The Forever Fight: The Forever Series Book 3

by Craig A. Robertson

  “Can they remain hidden from the Berrillians?” asked Heath.

  “Vortex isn't sure. He's been out of touch for a long time. When I press him, all he'll commit to is maybe.”

  “Can we contact the Deavoriath though the vortex?” asked Amanda. “Maybe I can persuade them to help?”

  “Funny you should mention that,” I replied. “That's our next stop. I sort of tricked Manly—the vortex manipulator—into taking me there.”

  “I'm coming too,” said Amanda. “Give me a few minutes to prepare, and we can leave.”

  “Amanda!” barked Heath. “You're not going on such a dangerous mission at this critical point in time.”

  The look she gave Heath was like skunk spray. “I do not believe I answer to you. If I choose to go, I will go.”

  “Ah,” I flurried my fingers in the air, “in case you both forgot, I'm in charge of who boards the cube, and I say neither of you go.” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “This may be a one-way trip. Toño and I are going because we have to. I've apparently been there, so someone there must like me. Toño's way more diplomatic than me and can maybe talk science with them.” I sniffed loudly. “I've said my goodbyes to Sapale and the family. That's how pessimistic I am about this one.”

  “Why?” asked Heath. “They didn't kill you the first time. Why would they now?”

  “They went to a lot of trouble to make sure I couldn't come back. When you walk back into the bear's cave, you're pressing your luck.”

  “I don't care. I'm coming. That's an order, General Ryan. I'm still your commander in chief, in case that inconvenience has slipped your mind.”

  She had me there. I was pretty much a free agent at that point, but technically, I was still in the Air Force. There was no such thing as an airplane or a sky to fly it in any longer, but the organization still existed. “Look, Mandy,” I pointed to her swollen belly, “I don't think it's medically safe to come. You're pretty far along, you know?”

  “I'm a medical doctor,” said Toño most unhelpfully. “I'll grab some obstetrical equipment from a sickbay. It should allow me to keep her and the baby safe.”

  “But,” I sort of whined, “it's kind of likely we'll all be killed and, at the very least, they'll keep the cube. If they do, we're stuck there.”

  “Jon,” Amanda said evenly, “if I stay, and you're right about the Berrillians, it wouldn't matter if I never came back. Dead is dead is dead, no matter how one gets there.”

  She had me on that count too. “Your funeral,” I said in resignation. “I'm leaving in ten minutes. If you two,” I indicated Toño and Amanda, “are at the dock then, you can come.”

  “If you guys don't return, I'm sure stuck watching one huge mass of shit hit the fan,” Heath said.

  “Hey,” I said, “think of it in the positive. You'll be in command of the fan. Lot of pressure there, grandson.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  The trip to Oowaoa was, like all others, instantaneous. More so than before, however, I got a sickening feeling in my gut once we arrived. It was show time. It was literally do or die time. I was nervous in more ways than I’d have thought it possible. The Deavoriath could just blow us away and be done with us. They could root for the Berrillians to blow us away. Worst of all, they could simply say no to helping us. That would constitute a verbal signature on our collective death sentences. From what I’d learned from the admittedly unreliable Manly, the Deavoriath were not a touchy-feely, welcoming bunch.

  Oh well. Luckily I had little time to fret. As soon as we landed, Wrath's hull opened into a door. Manly announced, “I've alerted the senior Forms of our arrival. They will meet you here shortly. They command that you remain in the immediate vicinity.”

  “Did I ask you to trumpet our arrival, Manly?” I questioned after the fact.

  “No, you did not. I took it upon myself as a matter of protocol.”

  I sort of figured he'd become more persnickety once he was back on home turf. I was right, not that there was much I could do about his behavior. Whoever invented him, who I was presumably about to meet, must have had a screw loose. Nice. Our futures depended on a whole bushel full of nuts.

  “Are you alright, dear?” Toño asked of Amanda, as he reached for her elbow.

  She pulled her arm away before he could touch her. She was clearly a bit green around the gills, but she was tough. “I'm fine. Please don't patronize me.” To his hurt look, she responded, “I know you mean well. Sorry. I'm fine.” She began rubbing her belly, as pregnant women do.

  I had no idea how long it would take for someone to arrive, so I led Amanda to a nearby stool and sat her down. The architecture seemed vaguely familiar with its smooth contours and fluid structures. A vision of a man with three legs suddenly popped into my mind. Yeah, the Deavoriath had three arms and three legs. They walked like a crippled spider a mean kid had just pulled five legs off of. Wow, how could I've forgotten that image? Swiss cheese was a bad thing to make a brain out of.

  “Do you suppose,” asked Toño, mostly to break the silence, “it'll take them long to arrive?”

  I studied the space around us. It had to be a hangar or similar landing site for the cubes. Wrath fit precisely on the pad. “I bet this landing area is centrally located so the pilots could land and get home quickly. It's not like the ships have powerful thrusters requiring an isolated landing spot.”

  A door closed loudly a few meters away. We had company. Three figures scampered toward us rapidly, but I sensed no urgency. I think these guys just moved quickly. Three legs, just like I remembered. I let my breath out when I confirmed nobody carried anything resembling a weapon. At least we weren't going to be shot on sight. Hopefully.

  The man in the lead was slightly younger than the one behind him. The third figure looked more gender-neutral. Possibly a female? I’d know soon enough.

  The trio stopped a couple arms’ lengths away. They folded and unfolded their hands nervously, which was kind of comical, what, with those six arms wriggling around like nervous elephant trunks. I started to say something when the lead man spoke. “I don't suppose you remember me, Captain Ryan. I'm Yibitriander.” He nodded to the older male. “This is Kymee. He would be described as our senior science maker.” He indicated the other figure, “And this is Lornot. She was a political leader, long ago.”

  I started to introduce my group, but Yibitriander held up a hang-on-a-second hand. “No need. Wrath has updated us on all that.” He stared into Doc's eyes. “Toño De Jesus, master science maker,” he nodded slightly, “and Amanda Walker,” he nodded to her, “leader of a significant number of humans flying large rocks toward the planet we call Hodor.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Amanda.

  “Hmm,” said Yibitriander somewhat mysteriously. “We'll see, won't we?” Back to me, he went on, “I'd like to welcome you and state that it is pleasant to see you again, but neither is the case. In scrubbing your memory, I knew I risked you not understanding how important it was for you to never return here. My oversight does not, however, free you of responsibility from your transgression.”

  That didn't sound encouraging. “Yibit…Yibtr…”

  He closed his eyes in frustration and said, “Last time, you elected to call me Yib.”

  Yes, I did. “Right, I remember that now. Yib, how've you been?”

  “Fine,” he said without emotion, “as I always am. Now, as I was saying…”

  Lornot spoke up. “Yibitriander, might it not be appropriate to invite our guests to our, um, quarters? Offer them refreshments or something?”

  God bless all politicians! She was asking him to lighten up in a diplomatic way.

  “They're not our guests. They arrived uninvited and of their own accord,” Yibitriander stated flatly.

  Kymee interrupted. “Yes, where are our manners? You'd think we haven’t entertained visitors in a million years.”

  Yibitriander shot him a because-we-haven't kind of glance, but then eased back. “Please follow us.
We will go to Kymee's space.”

  I noticed that drew a surprised expression from the senior science maker. These two were teasing each other at our expense. I guess that was better than having been killed already. The six of us walked in silence for a few minutes, Yibitriander in the lead. He stopped at a portal that appeared as anonymous as any other in the uniform expanse I'd witnessed. He raised an arm to direct us in.

  Kymee's place was a mess. I liked him immediately. In a world of sameness, he answered to his own call. Several seats—I couldn't really call them chairs—sprouted from the floor in a cluster. Yibitriander indicated that we should sit. Kymee left, returning almost instantly with roughly hewn mugs on a tray. We were each given one. He set down the tray and raised his mug to his nose. He smelled it like it was a snifter of rare cognac. “This,” he began, “is nufe. It is, or rather was, our favorite light refreshment. We drank it all the time.”

  “May I ask why you no longer do?” Amanda inquired.

  That brought a short chuckle from him. “Much has changed. After we secluded ourselves here long ago, we undertook a series of…um, alterations. Some were conscious, others were things that more or less fell by the wayside.” He smelled his mug again. “This was a habit that fell out of use.” He took a tentative sip and smiled. “Pity.”

  Amanda marveled at the contents of her cup. “This is ancient, yet you serve it to us? How very generous of you, Kymee.”

  “This?” he held his mug up. “No, I fabricated it just now.” He pointed back to the arch he'd entered by.

  “If,” she began to respond, “you can make it so easily, why…”

  “Kymee,” Yibitriander said with obvious frustration, “we are not here to discuss nufe, its storage, production, or consumption.”

  Kymee had a wounded look on his face. Lornot spoke up. “Please try your nufe. I assure you it is safe for your physiology. Amanda, I see that you are gestating. Nufe will have no ill effect on your fetus.”

  “Thanks,” Amanda said, as she flushed a deep shade of red. She took a sip. “It tastes like ripe strawberries, butterscotch, and a picnic on a warm summer afternoon. How's that possible?”

  “Nufe has a different taste for each who drink it,” said Kymee. “That taste changes with time, possibly even between sips.” He looked at his mug. “Marvelous stuff!”

  “We haven't had a baby on Oowaoa for much longer than I can remember,” Lornot remarked with sadness in her eyes.

  “I'm afraid I will have to play the role of villain,” said Yibitriander tersely, “yet again, and insist we confine our conversation to the very serious matter of their presence here. Need I remind anyone how fundamentally serious such an incursion is?”

  “You play the role of a grouch so well,” replied Kymee. “How could we deny you it?”

  “I'm not certain the term 'incursion' accurately characterizes the visit these humans have paid us. We should avoid judgmental labels, at least for the time being, don't you agree, Yibitriander?” Lornot said.

  I rather enjoyed watching Yib's buddies pin his ears back so properly. But he didn't seem to be phased. I decided to speak up before he reacted angrily. “I'm all for getting to the point, myself. You know, Yib, the longer I'm here, the more of my memory returns. I recall you were very kind to me on my last visit. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help. If it weren't for the command prerogatives you gave me, my mission would have failed any number of times.”

  “A questionable decision, in retrospect,” he replied. He seemed to want to be mad at us, but had to force himself into it. What was his angle?

  “But you did it, and I credit you with allowing me to save my species.”

  “Powerful praise,” said Kymee, looking sideways toward Yibitriander, “yet seemingly well deserved. It seems I was wrong to question your request to place those instruments in Jon Ryan. I'm proud of your superior insight.”

  Buttering him up? Good. Kymee had to be on our side, or at least open to hearing us out.

  “As a leader of the human colonists,” said Amanda with her official voice, “I, too, would like to thank you for your farsighted kindness, Yibitriander.”

  He looked back and forth from his friends to us, sizing up what he was up against. The SOB did it well. I think he was used to assessing situations and making quick decisions. He had to be a fighter pilot too.

  Amanda continued. “We are here to ask—no, to beg—for your assistance. I hope the Deavoriath will be as generous and gracious as they were before. We find ourselves in a more lethal position than before destruction of our home world.”

  “We've been briefed,” said Lornot, “by Wrath as to your recent struggles and challenges. I'm afraid, however, I must inform you of our position.”

  That sounded bad.

  “We intentionally separated ourselves from the outside world long ago. This you know. Our reasons were many, and I shall not try and list or justify them. Suffice it to say we did it because we felt we had to. We built an impenetrable wall around ourselves for the good of everyone concerned, your race included. In its infancy, the Deavoriath of old would quite likely have conquered Earth and ruled it ruthlessly.” She looked away when she was done speaking.

  “Or simply deleted it,” said a dour Kymee.

  “While we fully comprehend your dire predicament,” Lornot went on, “you must understand that our strong desire for solitude has not changed.” She straightened her back. “I, too, would do exactly what you are, my dear. As the leader of my race, I would do whatever I could to save it.”

  “But,” said Amanda quietly, “you're saying nicely that we're wasting our time.”

  “Yes,” said Yibitriander quickly. “We are. We'll not be able to help you.”

  Toño spoke for the first time. “I believe you mean to say you are unwilling to aid us, not that you are unable. Let us all be perfectly clear and honest.”

  The three Deavoriath looked at each other uncomfortably.

  “I believe his usage of the word unable is more correct, my good doctor” said Lornot. “Not to put too fine an edge on it, but you cannot possibly understand what we were or what we are very capable of being again.”

  “Say it, Lornot!” demanded Kymee. He looked at us. “We were monsters. We are monsters. And not the simple nightmare monsters of a child's dream. We were evil, rapacious, and unrepentant monsters. Those, my friends, are among the worst kind imaginable.” He sipped his drink and was promptly lost in thought.

  “I could never presume to know your pain,” Amanda said, “but you've been isolated for what, a million years? Two million? Surely in that time you have risen above your past deficiencies. You must have transcended your baser nature.”

  “We alone are in a position to determine that, young woman,” Yibitriander spoke coolly, detached. He was trying to paint a picture of conscious indifference. “We've explained what we could out of civility. That civility is presently—”

  “Silence.” Kymee did not rise, nor did his voice. But his word struck Yibitriander like a boulder from above. “I may not have lived that much longer than you, but I seem to have lived better. Do not disgrace your kind with harsh words and vapid threats. And do not, please, disgrace your father by being a boor. If there exists a single child of Oowaoa who has not become a better person over the ages, then we have failed as a species. I refuse to allow you to act in a superior or self-righteous manner to my guests. It's beneath me and I pray it's beneath you.”

  “I suggest you allow us,” Lornot said, “to discuss this matter amongst ourselves. It will likely not take long. I promise your words will be heard by all our people. It's the whole of us who must come to a consensus.”

  “Of course,” said Amanda. “That you'll even consider our request is more than we could've hoped for. Where would you have us wait?”

  “Here,” Kymee said, “will be fine. If you will excuse us.” Everyone stood. “We'll be nearby if there's anything you need. We're all connected mentally, so th
is shouldn't take long at all.”

  They filed out quietly.

  “What's your take, Mandy?” I asked once we were alone.

  She pointed to a wall and tugged at her ear. Ah, she worried the walls had ears. Clever gal!

  “I'm glad the Deavoriath have agreed to discuss our needs. I'm certain they will, in the end, do what is right for all concerned parties.”

  She rolled her shoulders as she spoke. She had no clue either. Everyone but tight-assed Yibitriander seemed sincere and caring. But that and a smile did nothing to stave off the Berrillian fleet. Without help, we were goners. It was that simple. I finished off my nufe. Man, it was great. Mine tasted like aged scotch, cotton candy, and a beautiful woman's lips. I meant Sapale's lips. Of course I did. One thing was for sure, if we did survive, I wanted to negotiate the distribution rights of nufe. I wanted to bathe in the stuff.

  Within ten minutes, our hosts returned. Stone faces all around. Very not good. The fact that it was Yibitriander who spoke for the Deavoriath was equally disheartening. “I'm afraid we will not be able to help you in any significant manner. I'm sorry. That is the consensus of the whole that is one. You are free to remain here as long as you choose, but you may also leave when it is convenient for you to do so.”

  Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out, he neglected to add.

  “You're free to keep Wrath. By our laws and customs, it rightfully belongs to the finder. Kymee has taken the liberty of updating several of his systems. Aside from that, we cannot help you.”

  “Will those upgrades,” Toño asked pointedly, “in any way make it more likely that we can defeat the Berrillian armada that approaches our homes?”

  Yibitriander shot a glance to Kymee. “No.”

  I was stunned. Speechless and stunned, two very unfamiliar conditions.

  “I thank you for your time,” said Amanda in a more controlled manner than I could have. “We will return to our people now, to prepare as best we can for the arrival of the Berrillians.” She stood with uncommon grace and nodded toward Toño and me.