Jack Strong and The Last Battle

by Heys Wolfenden

  “Nothing is,” chimed a voice from one corner of the galaxy.

  “Everything exists in the four dimensions,” purred another voice from a distant star cluster. “We are what was, what is and what we will eventually become. Perhaps it’s easier if I show you.”

  The boy’s ears were suddenly pierced with noise, a bright light arrowing out of the blackness like a shooting star. It stopped a few feet away from him and then coalesced into the figure of a man.

  “It’s you,” said the boy, noting the bleach blonde hair, tanned skin and deep blue eyes. He looked like a cross between a movie star and a surfer. “But you’re dead. I… I saw you die. There was a black hole and a battlefield in space and you were bleeding… golden blood.”

  “Yes, you’re right, I did die,” said the man. “But then I came to this place to rejoin my people.”

  “Your people?”

  “You already know who we are, you have done for months, years in fact.”

  “I… I have?”

  “Sure,” said the man, smiling broadly, teeth perfectly white. “You have our spaceship, the most advanced in the entire universe, the last one we ever made.”

  “Spaceship? What are you talking about? I don’t…”

  “I’m sorry, in the network it can be hard to hold onto things like consciousness, self. The black holes tug and pull at the synapses; it can be quite discombobulating, a true dichotomy. This will help.”

  The man placed two fingers onto the boy’s forehead. His skin tingled with electricity, then suddenly his head was awash with sensations, images, memories. He saw a huge silver pearl of a spaceship pick him up from a field, a green-skinned boy with carrot-like hair adrift in an asteroid belt, a boy covered with thick brown hair jumping up and down on a floating chair, two grey arms wrapped around him as he flew over a planet awash with volcanoes, then a brown-skinned girl diving off a mile-high waterfall onto a canopy of bouncing trees. Then there was a beautiful girl with flame red hair, fiery eyes and pink skin. Like a rose, he thought.

  He remembered then, he remembered a lot of things. The girl was calling out to him, her voice laced with anguish, tears. Jorge was next to her, his eyes like lava, his skin the consistency of pumice. He was laughing.

  Then suddenly he was in a tiny spaceship, speeding towards the bloodshot eye of a black hole. He felt himself being instantaneously pulled apart and squashed to the size of an atom. His ears exploded with white noise, his vision warped. All thoughts, all feelings ceased. His last thought was of Vyleria, his friends and of the struggle against the Scourge.

  “Now do you remember?” grinned the Brad Pitt lookalike.

  The boy nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jack… Jack Strong.”

  Chapter Fifteen: Old Friends, New Horizons

  “How long have I been out?” asked Jack, looking at the star-filled expanse. It glittered like a jewel.

  “A few days,” said the Brad Pitt impersonator.

  “Is that all?” said Jack. “I feel like I’ve been here a lifetime, or several. I’ve seen civilisations rise, fall, new planets take shape and form, millions of species evolve across millennia.”

  “That’s the black hole effect. It’s like watching history through a stop motion camera.”

  “So, all that actually happened?”

  “Yes,” said the man. “Once. A long time ago. When black holes suck in light and matter, they preserve the memory of what they have seen, what they have experienced. This way the universe is immortalised for all time in one big data bank; here, you can view the birth and death of countless stars and galaxies, nothing is unmade.”

  “So that’s it then, I’m stuck inside a singularity… I’m dead?”

  “Do you feel dead?”

  Jack shrugged. “I dunno. I feel… strange, like I’m here and yet not.”

  “That’s because you aren’t here, not completely. We are inside a black hole after all; your body and mind were destroyed, pulled cell by cell into the intergalactic ether.”

  “Then how am I here? Why aren’t I dead and in heaven or something?”

  The man smiled toothily. “Because your spirit escaped. Black holes are the most destructive force known to the universe and yet even they are miniscule in power compared to the soul. While it lives, so does your mind.”

  “So that’s it then, I can’t go back, I’m stuck here forever?”

  “That remains to be seen,” said another voice.

  Jack turned around and looked at a replica-image of a famous TV actress he had seen when he was younger, except that this version looked fresher, more refined; every pore of her skin seemed to glow.

  “What do you mean?” he asked. “How can I go back if my body is dead?”

  “Who said it was dead?”

  “He did.” Jack pointed at the Brad Pitt lookalike.

  “I said nothing of the sort,” said the faux actor. “I merely pointed out that your body had been discombobulated when it passed the Event Horizon.”

  “But you said it had been destroyed!”

  “And it has… from a certain point of view.”

  “What does that mean? Either your dead or you’re not.”

  “Yes, on Earth, in your part of the universe at least, but here things work differently; the laws of physics are not the same, they are more fluid.”

  “Which means?”

  “That your body was not destroyed as you understand it, rather it was separated, diffused.”

  “Diffused? Where?”

  “All around us,” said the woman, pointing at the shoals of stars. “It’s in the stars, moons and planets, it’s even in the water and air.”

  “In the air? But we’re in space!”

  The woman shook her head. “Not as you understand it. In this black hole, the space time continuum and all the material laws that go with it have no bearing.”

  “Then what is this?” said Jack, looking at the gossamer-like constellations that were gleaming all around him.

  “Like I was saying before,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike, “it’s a representation of what was, not what is. So yes, you can breathe ‘air’ in space here, though it’s not really air, and it’s not really space either.”

  “So how do I get my body back if it’s mixed up in all this?” he said, flicking at a lump of space dust.

  “With great difficulty,” said the woman, looking at him intently.

  “It depends on you,” said Brad Pitt.

  “Me? What have I got to do with it? You’re the ones in control here.”

  “Is that what you think?” said the woman, her hair waving from side to side as she laughed. “We’ve only dwelt here since the Scourge detonated their black hole bomb; our power and influence over this place, though growing, is still tenuous. No one truly rules here, in essence we are merely owner-occupiers. But this much is clear, for any soul to be reunited with their body they must really want it. We can do the rest, but without that desire it would be a futile gesture, a mouthful of water in a vast and inhospitable desert.”

  A face fluttered into Jack’s mind. He nodded, eyes fixed on the woman, on Brad Pitt. “I do, I want it. Desperately.”

  “Do you?” asked the woman, her white skintight spacesuit seeming to shimmer in the starlight.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because it’s been a long road for you Jack; fighting the Scourge, losing your parents.”

  “But…”

  “You’ve been in here for days already and this is the first time you’ve even been aware that anything was wrong, different; you aren’t yourself, you’re spent, exhausted. The toll of war has been great, too great perhaps. Maybe it’s for the best if you stay here… with us.”

  “How long for?”

  “Forever.”

  “I…”

  Jack looked at a huge turquoise island in the middle of the vacuum, its outer edges laced
with golden sand and purple anemones. These nebulae are beautiful, hypnotic. Here, I can do anything, go anywhere, just like I’ve always dreamt of doing; the possibilities are endless. Here, I am a God amongst the stars.

  And yet…

  “What about Vyleria, my parents, friends?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, where are they? Will they come here… in time?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said the woman. “They belong in the physical universe.”

  “Even my parents?”

  The Brad Pitt lookalike nodded. “Even departed souls have their own sanctum amongst the living.”

  “I…”

  “Yes?” asked the woman.

  “Could I see them?”

  “Who?”

  “My friends; before I decide, I mean. One last look; I have to know how they are.”

  “It’s highly irregular,” said the woman, eyes glittering like sapphires. “He should know instinctively.”

  “He’s been through a lot,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike. “More perhaps even than us. He deserves a second chance.”

  “We will need to get clearance from the others,” said the woman.

  “Agreed,” nodded the actor.

  “This may take some time.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Jack as they popped out of existence in bright bursts of light. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I can’t be seriously considering leaving Vyleria behind, can I? Thought Jack. He remembered then her bright red hair, her red eyes, her tightfitting red clothes and her pink skin like a dream, but he recalled also all the hurtful things she had said to him, all the cruel things she’d done. Part of him thought that it was because Jorge had tricked her, but he wasn’t so sure, he wasn’t sure of a lot of things.

  And what of the rest? His space family… Could he just leave them to rot in the mud and fight the war by themselves? This whole thing with the Scourge could have been sorted by now, Earth and the Asvari are probably victorious, triumphant, they don’t need me, they never did…

  Jack hovered in the vacuum. No stars shone, no nebulas lit the sky; the darkness was total, perpetual. Suddenly there was a great burst of light as heat and energy radiated the void like a tsunami. The foremost wave slammed into him and carried him hurtling through the cosmos. Light years disappeared in nano-seconds, traversed in the blink of an eye. Moments later the light wave released him from its grip, flinging him through space like spume on a stormy beach.

  Jack looked behind him. The whole universe was glowing, hotter even than the sun – an expanse of heat a thousand thousand light years across.

  “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

  Jack turned around. It was the woman again, her skintight uniform still shimmering despite the radiance behind her.

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Big Bang,” nodded Jack. “The event that created everything – galaxies, stars, planets… life; we wouldn’t be here without it.”

  “No, I guess not,” said the woman, face blank. “If you dial forward you may be able to witness the formation of the first star, then the first galaxies…. You could even sit and watch as an infant Earth cools down and the first amino acids begin to form.”

  “I was going to.”

  “But what about returning home, to your mission?”

  “I…” Jack looked at the glowing wall of light. Before he came here, he could barely even conceive of such a thing as the Big Bang, and yet here he was now a spectator to Genesis, with the universe at his fingertips. How could he leave now when there was so much more to see, so much more to experience?

  “The council have agreed to your request,” said the woman, jet black hair twinkling in the light of the first dawn.

  “They have?” said Jack, finally tearing his eyes from the glow. “When can I see my friends?”

  “Right now. If you wish. Unless you would rather stay here? It’s quite a sight, I know.”

  Jack looked out at the rapidly cooling ball of proto-matter. Some of the first atoms were already forming; electrons and protons were zipping about and colliding like steel balls on a pinball machine. It was wildly beautiful. Solid matter would form soon, perhaps even the first black holes.

  Black holes…

  It all came rushing back to him: Jorge, Lava man, the spaceship, Vyleria, her voice. So strong, and yet so desperate.

  “No. I have to see her. Now.”

  “Of course,” said the woman, a faint smile flickering across her face.

  The proto-universe disappeared in an instant, replaced by a huge black hole, golden streams of light cascading towards them.

  “Why isn’t the light being sucked in?” asked Jack. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  “Remember, we exist inside the black hole, not outside of it. Everything here works in reverse.”

  “And this is how I can see my friends, Vyleria?” asked Jack.

  She nodded, lips pursed. “This black hole like all the rest in the universe is linked to the mortal world and what goes on there. They act a little bit like telescopes, though they are far more powerful. If your friends are alive, you’ll see them.”

  “But how? I don’t understand.”

  The woman smiled. It was her last. “And that is why you cannot remain here. You are too young, star-child; you do not see like us, and you do not understand. The black holes facilitate this endeavor, but we take care of the rest.”

  The woman put her hands to Jack’s temples; her palms glowed like hot coals, radiating heat and knowledge. There was a bright flash of light and then the black hole disappeared.

  Suddenly he was on a spaceship, a planet, then a moon. He saw souls in anger, souls in pain. There was a growing darkness that was eating up the universe one planet, one galaxy at a time. The universe that he had seen expand and grow was dying, wilting like a daffodil in a late winter snow.

  “Can you send me back?” he demanded.

  “Yes, but…”

  “When?”

  “This has never been tried before; you could die trying. If we don’t find the right spot you could re-appear on the top of a mountain or else end-up adrift in space or down the mouth of a volcano.”

  “No, he has to go,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike, shimmering into existence. “No matter the risk.”

  “It’s his destiny,” chimed a bodiless voice. It seemed to come from a far-away gas giant.

  “And ours,” said another, an asteroid belt ringing with its voice.

  “He is the past.”

  “The present.”

  “And the future.”

  “But more than that,” said the Brad Pitt lookalike. “He needs to do it for his friends, for his community. We will all work together on this. Choose.”

  “Choose what?” asked Jack.

  “Who you wish to save?” said the woman. “There can only be one fissure in the fabric of space-time. After that…”

  “You’re on your own; we can’t interfere in the physical universe.”

  “I…”

  Jack saw five masks of pain before him, they couldn’t last much longer; their heart beats were slipping away. Death stalked them like a famine. But which one mattered the most to him?

  He picked the only one that made sense, the only one that would make a difference. A halo of golden light ballooned out of the vacuum before him. He stepped towards it. He felt his whole body stretch outwards at the speed of light, skin, bones and organs re-forming.

  Then he vanished.

  Chapter Sixteen: Putting the Band Back Together

  Jack flew like a comet, space warping all around him. It was like he was on an intergalactic waterslide or a roller coaster or both. Stars, nebulae and galaxies whizzed by alongside him, passing in a heartbeat. He dissected a small sun, plunging through its super-bright corona, then a glowing soup of Hydrogen and Helium, shooting out the other side in a brilliant burst of energy. Then a large planet came into view. What water there was huddled thinly aro
und the poles, huge sprawling deserts occupying the rest. He headed towards it, slowing now. A few wispy clouds came into view, then the skeletal remains of a mountain range. What looked like a bombed-out city appeared before him. A bright light shimmered in the distance, like one of the Great Lakes at sunrise. He made for it straight away, the light transforming mile by mile into a large arena, its rafters trembling with excitement, noise. Two figures cavorted on the blood-soaked sand, faces masked with anger, hate. A sword flashed through the hot stale air, the blade smeared with death. Flesh wilted before it, a bone cracked, an artery erupted. Game over. Then suddenly Jack was falling, falling, falling, the wormhole peeling away like a layer of discarded skin. Time slowed down, seconds seeming to last a lifetime. He closed his eyes and prepared for impact.

  Bullseye.

  The blade swished through the air, searing through tissue, bone. Blood gushed from the wound in a torrent. Grunt tried to rise, but couldn’t, the sword having gone straight through his sternum and into the sand. He groaned audibly, black liquid frothing at his mouth, sliding down his nose, mandibles. Dimly, he could hear the crowd, their frenzy rising to a crescendo, like a hive of killer bees. He groaned again as Xylem kicked him in the stomach, tearing the blade from his chest. Pain flared. The torrent raged anew.

  Grunt tried to look at the sun one last time, but a long sinuous shape obscured it, its edges dripping with gore.

  The sword plunged back down towards his head. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel one last shiver of pain. His heart thudded against his chest like a race car. He opened his eyes. The sword hung above his head like an eagle’s talons. Xylem’s arms were shaking, trembling. “Do it,” hissed Grunt, in between gouts of blood. “Misssery.”

  Still the blade hovered above his head, blood hissing from the fist-sized wound in his chest.

  “Thisss conflict has gone on long enough,” rasped Xylem. “The cccycle mussst end.” The sword cartwheeled through the air, like a piece of rubbish drifting on the wind.

  Grunt tried to get to his feet but couldn’t. Something was holding him back, dragging him down. Mortality… He realised. Death… He coughed up another gout of blood. The torrent was inexorable now, a constant tide. He felt weak, dizzy, his vision blurred, he could see two Xylems, not one, only the other was taller, stronger, with red eyes not yellow. His skin seemed to be on fire.