The Simpleton QUEST

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  He gently rocked her shoulder. Whispering, he said, “Haffan…wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  Haffan’s eyes immediately opened and she blinked several times in rapid succession. Her Pashier glow seemed to have improved some. Her face, small and heart-shaped, stayed immobile for several moments before she turned toward Cuddy.

  “You know where you are?” he asked.

  She nodded her head.

  “Bad dream?”

  Another nod.

  “You want to get up for a while?”

  Haffan, pushing forward onto her elbows, peered about the compartment. “Everyone is asleep?”

  Cuddy looked around and found Jackie’s berth empty, although the others were sound asleep in their bunks. He said, “Not everyone. Come on, you’re probably hungry.”

  As she pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the side, Cuddy noticed several prominent cuts on her feet. There were additional, though less severe, cuts on her legs. Again, he was reminded of what tough times she must have endured. Clearly, exposure to the elements was prominent among them. He’d talk to Bob about configuring the wellness chamber for her later on today.

  On the way to the kitchen, they found Jackie curled up on a couch in the main cabin. As they entered she didn’t look up from the book she was reading, continuing to twist ringlets of hair around her twirling finger.

  Haffan watched Jackie with interest, assessing her. She glanced at Cuddy then back at Jackie.

  She is mad at you.

  I know…but I’m not sure why.

  Still holding Cuddy’s hand, Haffan stared hard at Jackie. Only then did Jackie let her eyes roam over the top of the book. Suddenly, the book slammed shut while still in her grasp, making a loud clap sound.

  Jackie jumped. “Why did you do that?” Her forehead creased, she leveled an annoyed glare at the alien child.

  Haffan offered a perplexed, I have no idea what you’re talking about, expression.

  Up to that point, Cuddy hadn’t personally witnessed any TK abilities coming from the child. Watching both females stare intently at one another, he found the situation slightly funny.

  Haffan said, “Cuddy…will you ask her if she wants a grilled cheek sandwich? With bacon?”

  “I understood you just fine. And its cheese…not cheeks.”

  Haffan, pursing her lips, waited, then said, “You should eat. You may not have another chance for a while. Not with the coming attack.”

  Jackie and Cuddy glanced at each other, his alarmed face hardening. “What are you talking about? What attack?” he asked.

  Haffan shrugged a shoulder. “I saw it in my dream; was seeing it when you woke me up.”

  Jackie, putting down her book, moved closer. Kneeling down to Haffan’s level, she asked, “How do you know it was real? That it’s really going to happen? Maybe it was just a dream, sweetie.”

  “That’s a stupid question! I know the difference. There are dreams and there are glimpses…not the same thing.”

  Cuddy had heard the word used before—glimpse was a Pashier term for a particular kind of psychic experience.

  “Just like I knew you would come to row 694; shelf 55; item 12,453 in that warehouse. Why else would you think I was there?”

  Cuddy had only thought they were extremely lucky—finding the young alien in that exact place at that exact time. Now things were making better sense. He reappraised the young Pashier. She was smart. A lot smarter than any seven-year-old he’d ever come across.

  “So tell us about this attack…is it the Howsh?” Jackie asked.

  Haffan nodded. “I don’t know exactly what happens…only that it will happen…soon.”

  Cuddy noticed the AI-orb, quickly making its way through the cabin and headed for the bridge. “Can you stay with her for a while?” Cuddy asked Jackie, already turning to hurry after Bob.

  Cuddy reached the bridge in time to witness two Howsh spacecraft approaching on the viewscape display. How had they found them?

  In the near-total darkness outside, the decimated buildings within the Tripette City landscape were nearly impossible to discern. Then he saw a light coming from the warehouse next door—a single beacon of light shining into the darkness. Of course! Someone turning on the building’s power generator would naturally show up on Howsh sensors just as prominently as if a bonfire was lit, or a flare set off. Stupid!

  “How much time do we have?” Cuddy asked the orb.

  “No time…they are close, and charging weapons.”

  Chapter 16

  Cuddy watched as the two scout ships engaged their landing thrusters—the night’s darkness momentarily breached as the brightly-lit plumes revealed the enemy ships’ downward descent.

  The AI-orb managed to cut the Evermore’s power just prior to the scout ships’ arrival. With her energy signatures now masked, the Evermore would be as inconsequential to the Howsh as all the dilapidated buildings surrounding them. Cuddy hoped their attention would strictly be focused on the lit-up warehouse—probably wondering why the generators were powered on.

  “Amazing they can’t see us, sitting out in the open like this,” Cuddy said. He spoke in a hushed voice, not wanting to jinx their good fortune. Knowing, that come dawn in two hour’s time, their ship would stand out like a bright moon against a backdrop of inky black space.

  “Apparently, they cannot,” Bob agreed.

  “One thing’s for certain…we can’t stick around here, hoping our presence won’t be noticed eventually.”

  Jackie entered the bridge, with Haffan close behind. “What’s up?” she asked, peering out the portside window. Tucking a long lock of hair behind her ear, she exclaimed, “Crap…they’re like…right there! Don’t they see us?”

  Cuddy shook his head. “Bob’s got us pretty well hidden…at least from an energy signature standpoint.” Feeling a presence near him, Cuddy turned and found Haffan standing close by his side, her concentration also centered on the two scout ships outside.

  Is this part of the attack, Haffan…the one you had a glimpse of?

  Haffan, continuing to stare out the window, wobbled her head. Maybe…but in my glimpse there were three ships.

  The AI-orb, now on the move, apparently wasn’t averse to eavesdropping on other telepathic conversations.

  “Talk to me, Bob!” Cuddy said, shifting his attention back to the viewscape display, where nothing showed. Bob made an adjustment to the zoom-level settings and then, sure enough, another Howsh vessel came into view. “Warship…Marauder-Class.”

  Two small scout ships on the ground were one thing, but a powerful Marauder-Class warship was something else entirely. They were in big trouble. No way that advanced vessel hadn’t spotted them.

  Jackie, standing tall, faced him directly. Cuddy was surprised by the intensity of her stare. “I understand you want to live the Pashier way…the whole pacifist thing. But we have to put up a defense. We need to do something to save ourselves, Cuddy.” Her eyes settled on Haffan for a moment. “You do realize that it’s not just us anymore.”

  For weeks, Cuddy had somehow found a way to avoid killing any Howsh. Even now, he felt self-treachery for even considering the use of lethal alternatives.

  “Bob, wake up Brian. Bring him to the bridge…drag him here if you have to.”

  It would be far faster if you contacted him telepathically, he reminded himself. Cuddy never communicated with Brian that way—not something you’d want to do with someone you didn’t like. Perhaps due to the level of intimacy involved—allowing another person into your psyche. Okay, fine! Brian…wake up…you’re needed on the bridge. Hurry!

  About ready to send Bob, Brian staggered onto the bridge. “This better be important.” Yawning, he unconsciously scratched at his crotch.

  Cuddy said, “Three Howsh ships…two already on the ground. One, a whole lot bigger, is inbound.”

  Brian looked out the window, then at the viewscape display. “What do you want me to do?”

 
“Fend off that incoming Marauder to start.”

  Jackie, gesturing with a wave of her hand, said, “Send it to the other side of the galaxy…where it can’t return for a long, long, time.”

  “No problem, sweet cheeks…I can do that.” Brian stared at the icon representation of the Marauder on the display then closed his eyes for several seconds. When he opened them, making a casual hand gesture in the air almost identical to Jackie’s, he said, “That should do it. If there’s nothing else…I need my forty winks.”

  No one spoke. All eyes were locked on the viewscape display, watching as the Howsh Marauder warship continued to make steady progress toward them.

  “That’s impossible!” Brian shouted.

  “Try again,” Jackie urged. “Concentrate!”

  “Don’t tell me to concentrate…” Avoiding her intense glare, Brian stared at the viewscape through narrowed eyes. Using both hands this time, he made an abrupt shoving-motion into the air.

  If the consequences of the situation weren’t so dire, Cuddy would have reveled in Brian’s humiliation. But the apparent lack of some effect from his TK attempts was getting serious.

  “Bob, how is this possible?” Cuddy asked.

  Before Bob could answer, Jackie asked, “Is it Brian? Has he lost his…”

  “Bite me. My TK is just fine, Jackie!” Brian responded defensively.

  Bob, hovering higher in the air, rotated toward Brian. After a series of clicks and a few beeps, the AI-orb said, “Corresponding high-energy spikes indicate Brian is indeed correct. His TK is exactly as it should be. My presumption is that the Marauder ship has passive induction shielding. I suspect new experimental technology has been retrofitted onto the ship…perhaps developed specifically to fend-off the type of telekinesis Brian just attempted.

  “In other words, we’re up the creek,” Tony said. No one responded.

  Cuddy went through their options in his mind. Lifting-off was now out of the question—they’d be blown to kingdom come and back by the fast-approaching Marauder. Maybe attempt a speedy break along the surface then hightail it into space once they were outside the city?

  “Howsh!”

  Cuddy looked to the view outside to the pair of scout ships. Both craft had lowered their gangways and two teams of five armed Howsh raiders were double-timing it toward the Evermore. Nighttime had given way to dawn. If we can see them, then the raiders most assuredly can see us, he thought.

  “Move!” Cuddy yelled, bulldozing Tony out of the way. As he rushed to the forward console, he shouted out commands: “Bob…light up the propulsion system. Brian, do something about those approaching fur-balls.” No sooner had those words left Cuddy’s mouth, when plasma fire erupted from multiple directions outside.

  Cuddy took the nav controls in his left hand while initializing the lift thrusters with his right.

  “Shields are holding at ninety-three percent,” the AI-orb said.

  “Just small-arms fire. It’s the incoming Marauder I’m worried about,” Cuddy said, guessing it was about thirty seconds out.

  Suddenly, the Evermore was slammed ferociously on the side then struck again and again. Bridge lights indiscriminately flashed on and off and a claxon alarm began to screech somewhere above them.

  “Bastards! One of the scout ships has repositioned…they’re firing their big guns,” Kyle said.

  “Shields down to twenty percent,” Bob updated.

  Flashes of red filled the Evermore’s bridge. Ten feet off the ground, the big Emersion drive coughed once, twice, then died and they dropped back down to the surface like a load of bricks. The crash was enough to throw them all to the deck. Cuddy wrestled to his feet, tasting blood—he’d bitten his tongue. He looked for and found the viewscape display. The Howsh Marauder was almost upon them.

  Brian, attempting to stand, had a wide gash on his forehead. He staggered then fell limply back to the deck.

  Fortunately, it appeared Brian had some success with the Howsh raiders earlier, as half of them were now gone. Cuddy was fairly sure they were discovering what it was like to walk in space without a spacesuit.

  “Shields are completely down, Captain Perkins.”

  Cuddy felt something wrap around his leg. Haffan. She was hugging him—gazing up at him with panic in her eyes. Placing a comforting hand on her back, he looked around for Jackie, who suddenly appeared at his side. Her terrified expression was a close match to the young alien’s.

  Outside, the Howsh raiders were continuously firing their energy weapons. A magnificent flash, emitted from the second scout ship—was quickly followed by a plume of dirt and rock exploding mere feet in front of the Evermore. A miraculous, fortuitous, miss.

  “Look! The other scout ship has repositioned to also fire on us…we’re toast,” Kyle yelled.

  But Cuddy wasn’t listening to Kyle, or to the shrill claxon above them, or to Haffan’s relentless screaming. He was trying to concentrate; attempting to call up his TK power. With Brian down for the count—it was strictly up to Cuddy. That, or they would all be dead within seconds.

  The Howsh Marauder suddenly dropped down into view. Easily four or five times the size of the Evermore—the enormous craft began firing its big plasma cannons almost immediately. With each thunderous-concussive blast, the deck beneath them shook. But, strangely enough, it wasn’t the Evermore taking on fire….

  Chapter 17

  The Howsh Marauder spacecraft fired twice more, though at this point it was overkill. Both scout ships were already toast—eviscerated as angry flames roared, and black smoke billowed high into the air.

  None of the crew spoke; none daring to hope the attacking vessel would stop its definitive assault. But apparently it had. Cuddy tracked the progress of the Marauder, now moving away from the flames. Soon, clouds of dust rose as the Howsh vessel engaged its landing thrusters.

  “She’s landing,” Kyle said, stating the obvious. Fearful, no one commented.

  Within moments, a lift platform descended beneath one of the craft’s wings. Standing upon it, a lone figure came into view—partially obscured by all the flames and smoke.

  Whoever it was, Cuddy noticed, was tall, as the figure stepped off the platform. Hooded, wearing a long robe, in his right hand he walked with a staff nearly as lengthy as himself. Skirting the two smoldering ships, he eventually came to a stop directly in front of the Evermore.

  “It’s the grim reaper! Coming to take the rest of us…”

  Jackie slapped Tony’s shoulder. “That’s not a bit funny.”

  Bob rose then descended amid a chattering of beeps and clicks, obviously agitated.

  “Talk to me, Bob…who is that, since you obviously know?” Cuddy asked.

  “That is a dead Howsh,” the AI-orb replied. Not one to volunteer such dramatic or shocking opinions, Cuddy was somewhat surprised by Bob’s comment.

  Brian, at some point, had risen from the deck. Blood still trickled down one side of his face, oozing from the wound on his forehead. “Who the hell is that?” he asked.

  “That is Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph,” Bob informed them all. “Although it has long been speculated he died a number of years ago.”

  Cuddy was all too familiar with the once-supreme military commander of the Howsh. Not that many weeks ago, the AI-orb pretended to be the very same being—a ruse that enabled the Evermore to receive safe passage across space and, ultimately, to Primara. But from all news accounts, Calph was supposed to be long gone.

  “I read about him,” Brian said, with some admiration in his voice. “He’s the same dude who used to gut his misbehaving junior officers with the swipe of a claw. Gut them right where they stood and they never saw it coming. Then…at the height of his military career, he just vanished…same say he went into hiding. Had had enough of the Howsh Imperial High Counsel. But no one knows for sure. He’d be an old codger by now, I guess.”

  “Why is he here? Why would he destroy his own kind like that?” Jackie asked, staring up at Cuddy. “Wha
t do you think he wants?”

  Me.

  Cuddy looked down at Haffan—her arms still tightly wrapped around his upper leg.

  He’s come for me…I can feel it, Haffan conveyed telepathically.

  Cuddy, pulling her arms away from around his thigh, lowered down next to her. “No one’s going to let that happen.” He gave her arm a little squeeze and stood. “I’m going out there…see what he wants.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Kyle barked. “No way…that Gandalf-looking mother-fucker will shred you where you stand.”

  “If he wanted us dead, we’d already be dead,” Cuddy said. Glancing then at Brian, he added, “But if he does…do me a favor. Send him straight into orbit.”

  Brian smirked at that. “Gladly.”

  * * *

  Cuddy stepped off the gangway and made his way to the Evermore’s bow. The Howsh military leader, still standing where he was last viewed, stood tall, his staff held at his side. Several paces behind him now stood a rail-thin robot. Cuddy heard it communicating in low digitized-sounding tones to Calph.

  Cuddy and Calph’s eyes met—neither wavering from the other. Cuddy halted two paces in front of the hooded figure. Now, on seeing him close up, Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph was a beastie-looking creature. His long fur was gray and scraggly; much of it matted into tangled clumps. A foul musky odor wafted over to Cuddy. But what completely captivated him were the Calph’s eyes—so cold and penetrating. Perhaps this guy truly is the grim reaper, he mused.

  “My name is Cuddy Perkins…I’m the captain of the Evermore.

  Cuddy heard the robot speak again—it seemed as if it was passing along added information. The language was not that of the Howsh nor Pashier. “You can call me Calph. Now bring out the sprout.”