The Forever Fight: The Forever Series Book 3

by Craig A. Robertson

  Her absent stare evaporated into a warm look at Heath. Amanda smiled, leaned over, and kissed him. She sat back against her pillow. “You know I'm, well, you know my sexual past? I'm…new to this.” She swung a finger between them. You're my first…you know…partner of the male persuasion.”

  “I'm honored.” He furrowed his brow. “I think. That's a good thing, isn't it?”

  “Cute, funny, and good in the sack. I landed myself a real triple-threat.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

  “This's all interesting bonding information, but there's something bothering you. What?”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. “Guess what lesbian lovers never have to worry about?”

  “I'm not touching that question with a ten-meter pole.”

  “Birth control. You know, protection.”

  “And that means…oh no…”

  She nodded vigorously. “Oh yes!”

  “Bu…but I… assumed you were on some kind of…precautionary, er, measure.”

  “Like I said, the matter never came up before. I guess I was just stupid, but now I'm just pregnant.”

  “Hence the apple juice.” She pointed to her glass. “So glad you finally noticed I haven't had any alcohol for the last two weeks.” Her eyes shot hot sparks at him.

  “Come to think of it…I think I'll change the subject. Good idea, right?”

  “Best I've heard come out of your mouth in a while.”

  “Wow.”

  “Wow, in what meaning of the exclamation, dearest?”

  “The old team is back in action.”

  “Huh?”

  “A Ryan impregnating a Geraty.”

  “Just for the record, I expected such a crass remark from the press, not from you.”

  Heath sat bolt upright and set down his glass. “Okay, serious as a heart attack, what are we going to do?” He held up a hang-on-a-second hand to halt a response. “I'm willing to do whatever it takes. We go public, we go public. I'll man up to whatever you need me to do.” He ground his teeth a moment. “You need me to talk with Piper, I'll talk with Piper.”

  “I hoped you'd say that.” She leaned back over and kissed him again. “Thanks. You're the best. Let me think about it a while.”

  “I love you.” There, he'd finally said it.

  “Okay, wasn't expecting that one, but again, thanks. It helps.” She saw his crest fall ever so slightly. “You're kidding, right? You need me to say it too or what? You think I don't love you with all my heart and all my soul?” She looked toward Heaven and declared, “Men!”

  “So how do you wish to proceed, Madam President?”

  “I have no freaking idea, Mr. Vice Presidential Father. Not one frickin' clue.”

  Amanda's phone went off. The mood was shattered to a distant memory. It was the high-pitched, uninterrupted squeal of the emergency alert. She snatched the phone off the night stand. “Walker here. What?” She put her hand to her forehead. “I'll be in my office in two minutes. Make sure everyone's there before me. Oh, and I'll let the VP know personally.” She reached over to set the phone down, but it dropped to the floor.

  “My God, what?” Heath asked, taking her hand.

  TEN

  “Yibitriander! My word, what brings you here physically?” Kymee stood to greet his ancient friend. They each held the other's right elbow with their right hand and bumped shoulders, as had always been the custom among the Deavoriath. “I don't think I've actually seen you here for millennia.”

  “It has been a while,” Yibitriander replied, “hasn't it?” He looked around the cluttered room, taking it in as if seeing it for the first time. “Not much has changed, either. Still a smelly mess.”

  Kymee scanned the space with a father's pride. “Yes, isn't it wonderful something of the before remains?”

  Yibitriander wasn't all that quick to respond. Eventually, the best he could concede was, “If it makes an old friend happy, then yes.”

  “So precise with your words. You've never stopped being a politician, have you?”

  Yibitriander bristled. “If you're going to hurl insults, I shan't come again for several more millennia.” He tried to look sternly at Kymee, but was forced to smile when his friend began chuckling. “I never could fool you, could I, old one?”

  “Never have and never will.” He tapped the side of his nose with a digit. “I doubt you'll even be able to trick me after I'm gone.”

  “Are you,” asked Yibitriander, “unwell, old amongst the ancient? The very concept of you being gone violates the laws of nature as I understand them.”

  “To all there is a dawn, a noon, and a sunset. So it is with me. So it is with all things.” He pointed generally into the air. “Where will we be when this universe thins out to cold nothingness?”

  After reflection, Yibitriander answered, “Perhaps in some other universe, if that place is so unfortunate.”

  “You are, as always, as glum as a month of rain. Please attempt to be more upbeat. Is that too much to ask?”

  Yibitriander looked to the floor. “The Deavoriath have much to answer for. I don't know if it'd be a positive if we were to survive the dissipation of yet another universe.”

  “Before I decide to throw my old bones into an exploding star, tell me what brings you here today? I can't take much more of your moaning and hand-wringing. You're like an old woman at a gravesite.”

  Yibitriander tried to look offended but couldn't be mad at Kymee. “Yes, as to my visit. It seems there has been some activity on one of the vortexes.”

  “What? That's as strange an occurrence as it is an unlikely one.”

  “Yet,” he lifted his palms, “it would seem to be the case.”

  “What makes you believe such a thing is possible?”

  “Do you remember that communication station near Forby, on the far side of Leckt?”

  The old man rubbed his chin. “Yes, it's the last one I built. Must have been almost a million years ago.”

  “At least,” said Yibitriander with a harrumph. “In any case, Milcowdon happened by it recently and heard a sound, so she entered the structure.”

  “What was that old hag doing near Forby?” He shrugged. “What would any of us be doing near Forby, for that matter? Hot, dry, unforgiving terrain fit only for demons.” He smiled wickedly. “Ah, that's what Milcowdon was doing there.” He winked at his friend. “Family reunion.”

  “You really are bad. We, the enlightened Deavoriath, don't think like that, speak like that, or even smile like that.”

  “Have you forgotten so much of that woman's shortcomings as a life form?”

  “No,” Yibitriander smiled back, “I have not, Father.” His grin lingered a satisfyingly long time. “In any case, she entered to find a communication request light pulsing. It had timed into an audible alarm, as it hadn't been answered in the prescribed time period.”

  “Who was it from?”

  “She couldn't say. She claims she is unfamiliar with the technology you installed, so she elected not to 'fiddle with it,' as she put it.”

  “I'll bet! She probably tried every trick she knew to open the channel. I'll wager she hammered it with her horns to try and find out the message.”

  “I have,” Yibitriander said stiffly, “no reason to doubt her statement.”

  “How did she decide it was a vortex calling?”

  “The panel the light flashed on was labeled as such.”

  “If it's the panel I'm thinking of, it would have said which specific vortex was hailing us.”

  “Yes. It was Wrath who called to us.”

  The old man was clearly shaken by that news. He sat down heavily, and his arms dropped limply to the sides. “No! Wrath? How could it be that ship, that very vortex?”

  “I know. I share your surprise.”

  “Surprise? You feel only surprise? I feel a gnawing terror in my gut. I feel a foreboding. I feel frightened. Surprise is too mild a word.”

  “He does have quite a legacy, doesn't he?” Yibitr
iander tried to sound dispassionate.

  “Indeed he does. Of all those damn vortexes, I'd have prayed hardest to never hear from him more than all others combined.”

  “Yet he calls.”

  “Where did you leave him? You said you scuttled him as far from the light as possible. And it has to have been two million years ago.” He wrinkled his brow. “Perhaps it is just a mechanical malfunction.” With no conviction, Kymee proclaimed, “Yes, that's it! He has suffered a mechanical failure. The signal is some system glitch, no more.”

  “If you really believed that, I doubt your face would be so pale.”

  “I did build him well; you're right there. But how? All the Forms are on Oowaoa. There's no one to possibly give Wrath life. No one.”

  Yibitriander rose to his toes and rested back. “There is one.”

  “Not the human you had me fit with control prerogatives!”

  “Yes, I refer to Jon Ryan.” Yibitriander scowled.

  “But surely that would be impossible. Why, the man would have to locate Wrath and learn he could pilot a vortex. Nothing so unlikely could have possibly occurred.”

  “And I placed Wrath in the center of one of the last pockets of Uhoor. I knew they would further discourage visitation. Yet, in spite of all those precautions, I fear just such a combination of impossibilities has happened.”

  Kymee rubbed his palm against his cheek. “What are the odds? That's amazing.” He punched at the air. “Then I say good for Jon Ryan! He can spend his eternity learning the nuances of the silly box.”

  “That silly box,” Yibitriander responded harshly, “as you call it, is responsible for more deaths than Tellusian worms. It single handedly destroyed both the Melquissian and Trellpot empires.”

  “I thought,” Kymee said in a low tone, “Wrath's Form accomplished those feats, not the vortex manipulator. You know as well as I do he can't act unless he's properly activated and enabled.”

  “His bloodlust is unbounded, and his grasp of morality is nonexistent. And you know as well as I that he can influence a Form into acting along any line that suits his designs. He's not a mindless machine.” Yibitriander fell into dour contemplation with a distraught look in his eyes.

  “I will go to the communication station and confirm if these are indeed the facts. When I return, if your concerns are validated, you can tell me what it is you'd like to do.”

  Yibitriander initially reacted as if he hadn't heard Kymee. Then he focused on his father. “Very well. That's a sound plan. Let me know as soon as you're back.”

  Kymee snickered. “How is it that I could be back and you not know of it? Yibitriander, this's now, not before. Plus, we're not bound to action whether Wrath is active or not. Our ways have changed. You waste a few ticks of your infinite time worrying as if the fate of anything is based on our intervention. We will allow whatever is to happen to progress along its own lines. The fate of whoever is involved is not ours to meddle with.”

  “I must know what chain of happenstance I have set in motion.”

  “To what end?” Kymee said with a challenge. “Would you try and intervene? Hmm? That is no longer our way.”

  “I know.”

  “Need I remind the Form of Wrath about the perils of action? You two cast the entire home galaxy of our one-time rivals, the Nujjenis, out of this universe. You recall what happened, don't you?”

  “As if it were yesterday,” Yibitriander said emotionlessly. “The annihilation of their galaxy, once it contacted foreign laws of physics, almost ripped open a channel to our universe. I very nearly destroyed two pocket universes.”

  “Since that time, we have withdrawn and developed our minds and our spirits, not our power and influence.” He shook his thin hair with a fast hand. “I wasn't too sanguine about your request to upgrade the human android, if you will recall. I did it out of loyalty to an old friend. But, did I not say at the time that it constituted a violation of our prime directive? It went against the principles we've strived to achieve, and have achieved, for generations.”

  “Yes,” he responded distantly, “you did. But I felt I owed him a debt, and that was the most logical manner to settle it.”

  “Not the one most in keeping with your past resolve. Back then, you'd have pulled every circuit and doodad out of Ryan and tossed them into the trash. You wouldn't have made him a Form, not back then.”

  He looked askance at the old man. “You know I've left all that behind me.”

  “Have you? Well, we can discuss that further after I return from my journey.” He scratched absently at his face. “I've not undertaken a journey in so long I can't recall when it was.” He smiled slightly. “I hope I recall how to do such a thing.”

  “You'll do fine,” said Yibitriander with a warm smile. “You've never failed in your entire life. Such a thing is unthinkable. It's probably impossible.”

  They tapped right shoulders, and Yibitriander departed. Why, he asked himself for the millionth time, had he decided it was a good idea to have Kymee put those control units in the android? It seemed, in retrospect, an unwise move.

  ELEVEN

  Lacking any superior plan, I committed myself full time to the business of helping create a viable society on Azsuram. There were more than enough adults and teenagers to fill our needs and perform work. There were also a slowly growing number of immigrants from Kaljax itself, so my input was, thankfully, no longer necessary. But Sapale had entrusted me to watch over the societal development of our world, so I felt my continued involvement in its infancy would make sense.

  I became the first and last non-Kaljaxian to serve on the Council of Elders. Mine was a permanent seat, I'll have you know. Yeah, politico for all my immortal life, whether I liked it or not. Sort of like a double enema and an ass kicking all rolled into one good time. I vowed to myself to make most of the meetings while Sapale was alive, but I left the possibility of a more emeritus status open for the long-term future.

  To keep the peace on the home front, I limited my vortex trips to Kaljax and back, and only when my brood's-mate felt there was a compelling need. Most of our trips were to ferry carefully screened Kaljaxians to Azsuram, but occasionally, social calls were added. Gradually, shipments of Kaljaxian supplies dwindled to naught, as Sapale's plan to make us independent came online. Once in a while, I took Toño to check in with Carlos or to attend a scientific conference. That usually drew some form of primal growl from the love of my life. If you took how much she wanted to be independent from Kaljax and multiplied it by one thousand, that's how much she wanted to avoid contact with my crazy species. Marshall's threats were always front and center in her mind, so in her mind, any contact meant more chance of harm.

  But I was a human and couldn't extinguish all my concerns as to how they were doing. I'd risked everything to make their worldship voyage possible, so I was naturally curious as to how it was progressing. Someday, I'd put my foot down and let the old ball-and-chain know I needed to make contact with my kin. That'd be just as soon as I worked up sufficient courage to do so. I figured that would be any decade now. Hey, sometimes a man had to do what a man had to do, but no one said there was a rush.

  I loved all my kids, grandkids, and great grandkids, sure. But, no way around it, JJ was the apple of my eye. I guess all the time we spent being the only dudes around helped make us special buddies. And no, Toño didn't count as one of the guys. He was as non-macho as they came, especially considering he was a Spaniard. He must have lost a gene or two somewhere along the line. Anyway, JJ shared my dislike of all things political. We took any excuse to head off on our own to explore, hunt, or just be alone together.

  JJ's brood's-mate, Challaria, seemed to understand this. She never tried to stop what Sapale called our goofing-off expeditions. Challaria called it our bonding time. I figured that meant not all the females of Kaljax were as tough as mine. I loved JJ's line. He always told Challaria we were going to find him a vortex so he and I could have races. That always drew a rolling of
all four eyes from her. She knew JJ with a personal vortex would be a disaster—like giving high explosives to a toddler.

  One night JJ and I were lying under the stars, a few days ride from the nearest outpost. We were doing some geological investigations, similar to the one that netted us the vortex. JJ announced, “Challaria will be giving birth in a couple weeks.”

  “Yeah, I heard that rumor too. Poor kid! Especially if she turns out to be a girl.” We both laughed pretty hard at that image. “That will make him, what, JJJ?” I rocked my reclined head side-to-side with each “J.”

  “J-cubed?”

  “Jon J-squared?”

  “J-math?”

  “J-changes-his-name-by-age-three-because-he's-so-embarrassed?”

  When JJ stopped giggling, he said confidently, “We'll figure his handle out eventually. But seriously, I wouldn't have it any other way. His grandfather is a great man and the best dad possible. He will honor that individual by carrying his name.”

  “Aw, shucks! That's so nice to hear. Thank you, son.”

  We were quiet a good long while, staring at the stars. I had to stop and say a word about the stars. Here I spoke from rather considerable experience. I grew up wanting to be a pilot. I was never too much into astronomy, but I made myself learn how to navigate by the stars in the night sky. I figured, if I had to ditch my ride in water, knowing how to find dry land would be a good thing. By age ten, I knew all the constellations in both the northern and southern skies.

  One of the first mind-altering visions I had when I flew Ark 1 was how absolutely unfamiliar the heavens were above distant solar systems. I never knew until then how anchoring the stars of home were. Every new system I'd visited since then has had the same effect on me.

  I actually had quite the fun time with Azsuram's night sky. As the person tied for the least need of sleep on the planet, I spent a lot of time looking up at night. I began seeing constellations naming them. Yeah, you got it. Put me in charge of anything and, stand back, I'm going to do it the Jon way! Above our main village, one could move their finger across the sky and draw the outlines of many iconic, historically relevant constellations. To the far north, there's Beer Bottle. Close to Beer Bottle was, naturally, Beer Bottle Opener. Duh! Then our tour continued south, where we found both the Bigger and Lesser Ta-Tas. Mostly in winter, one looked up straight overhead and saw Joe Montana, arm cocked back, ready to throw The Catch for all eternity. It was my favorite, by far. Additional interest could be found way to the south, where the sky was totally dominated by 1965 Shelby Cobra 427. Simply breathtaking. It was a must-see. Other, less recognizable configurations of stars included, in no particular order, Steve McQueen, First Girlfriend, Xbox, Golden Retriever, Smoked Baby Back Ribs, and another personal favorite, Nice Butt.