Dragon Fire (Galaxy On Fire Book 5)

by Craig Robertson

  With that, I left. A couple observers slowly helped Napwertofer off the floor and into a chair. He grimaced with each little movement. Nice. After confirming I wasn’t being tailed, I returned to a room I’d booked to wait. Wandering the streets or heading all the way back to Stingray risked needless exposure. My plan was totally lame, but I preferred it to being acquired by EJ outright. For the sake of drama, I’d like to say it was a long, introspective night. But it wasn’t. Sapale called, and we talked for hours. Then I watched a few movies Shielan told me I just had to download. Two were awful, but one, Jaws 103 was okay. Gory, but okay. It was hard to imagine a white shark could augment his own brain and learn to fly a spaceship. But if I suspended disbelief that far, the picture was entertaining. The tagline was the best part. Just when you thought it was safe to go back into space…

  My handheld sounded off.

  “Ryan, this is Napwertofer. I found almost ten bugs. If you want them, come get them.”

  “I thought I told you to bring them to me, jerk-wad.”

  “Yes, you did. I’m not your bitch. If you want them, come now. I’ll destroy them in half an hour if you don’t show.” With that, he cut the transmission. EJ was definitely waiting. Napwertofer would never be so bold if he were facing me alone.

  The time came to finally leave. I felt just like Gary Cooper in High Noon as he prepared for his final confrontation with Frank Miller. Seriously, I heard The Ballad of High Noon lilting in and out in the background. It was nuts. The fact that I was going in costume didn’t bolster my confidence or belief in my ultimate success. I placed a full membrane tightly around my entire body like a second skin. The only breaks were two tiny eye holes that were partial membranes, just to see, and one pinhole completely open to hear through. I allowed two more tiny openings for my laser finger and one probe fiber to be useable. Then I put on my typical flight suit and boots. I checked in a mirror, and my suspicions were correct. I looked like the invisible man wearing Jon Ryan’s clothes. I had no hands and no head. Maybe no one would notice.

  My hail-Mary ploy to look normal was to wear flesh-colored gloves. That part was easy. I had Al fabricate a Jon Ryan pullover mask. That part was dicey. I slid it on and went back to the mirror. I looked okay, sort of, but the talking part was bad. The membrane conforming over my lips and eyes were able to move the plastic mask, but the movements were quite unnatural and unlikely to escape the notice of someone who looked directly at me. But I was stuck. I knew I was walking into a trap, and I wanted to appear completely vulnerable. What I did was look like was a department store mannequin or a wax figure. Oh well, it was too late to back out, and I had no plan two to fall back on. I did pull a hood over my head to conceal some of the shortcomings of my disguise. EJ would be suspicious of it immediately and would ask me to lower it, but at least I’d have survived our initial contact.

  I exited and walked the short distance to Napwertofer’s dump feeling dumber with each step. The upside was that Sapale wasn’t with me. She’d have blown my cover by laughing hysterically. I paused briefly in front of the door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

  Napwertofer was seated alone on the far side of the large room, facing my direction. It was the perfect setup for a trap. Oh boy, I got my wish. Now all I had to do was want it. When he saw me, Napwertofer raised a hand and waved, another sure sign of treachery. That SOB wouldn’t pee on me if I was on fire, let alone guide me to his table.

  I walked a normally as I could, not too fast, not too casually. I didn’t know what the hell I was meaning, but I tried to focus on something I had control of. I tightened my left fist and squeezed down on my only ace-in-the-hole.

  Halfway over, right in the middle of the room, EJ struck. A massive bolt of electricity hit my backside, just like it had back when he captured me before. As I was slapped forward by the impact, I breathed a big sigh of relief. He made the one critical, arrogant mistake I needed him to.

  He held the current on me for thirty seconds. Patrons who were close were literally fried. The screams of agony were horrendous.

  I could feel that the beam was narrowing, indicating EJ was closing the distance between us. I remained on my feet, doing my best impersonation of a man being electrocuted. I writhed, spun, and I jerked randomly. None of the holes in my membrane allowed any of the charge through. That part was sheer luck, but I was happy to accept it.

  Finally, the assault stopped. I crumpled to the floor with an Oscar-worthy performance. Once down, I twitched a little for added effect. I did make certain my left hand was pointed toward EJ as I lay helpless on the deck.

  I couldn’t see him with the position my head ended in, but I knew he was real close when he kicked me in the ribs with all his might. I didn’t react.

  “You stupid pile of parrot droppings,” he raged. He kicked me twice more. “How is it possible you fell into my trap a second time? I knew you were mush-brained, but I never dreamed—”

  I leapt at his nearest ankle. He never saw me coming. Turned out the joker had his head tilted back in maniacal laughter.

  I opened my fist an instant before I hit his leg and slammed Risrav against his calf. The rune was covered in double-sided duct tape. Yeah, good old duct tape worked in every setting, even two billion years in the future.

  EJ felt the impact and looked down in a flash. His weapon swung to my temple.

  I rolled once and threw a full membrane over EJ before he could pull the trigger. Popping to a knee, I cinched the membrane down as tightly as possible. I didn’t want him firing the weapon either accidentally or on purpose. I also wanted him as off balance as possible when I dropped the shield. With that in mind, I bent the membrane so his body formed as much of a S-shape as I felt he could safely endure.

  Then I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Of course, I realized at once that was a dumb idea. I jumped to my feet and swept the room. Perfect. None of EJ’s associates were rallying to his defense. Little wonder. It was certain they were all as happy as I was he was contained and probably hoped whatever I’d done to him was fatal.

  Now came the hard part. I still wasn’t certain I could do it.

  I lifted the membrane-shrouded EJ into the air and walked slowly out of the bar. With Risrav affixed to him, I knew his one chance of escape, Varsir, was neutralized. I didn’t want to count on it working through a full membrane, but sticking it to him meant he was the fly and I was the spider. I headed toward the outskirts of town where I’d left Stingray. I proceeded quite slowly, still wracked with indecision and doubt. But there was no other way. This was how it had to end.

  “Welcome back, Form One,” Stingray said cheerily as I opened the hull.

  Al, the son of a lawn mower, didn’t miss a beat. “What’s that you’re bringing aboard?”

  “Oh that? That’s none of your business.”

  After a noticeable delay, he said, “We’re not certain we can accept that response.”

  “Well isn’t it lucky for all concerned that you don’t have to. What is inside the membrane is my responsibility, and we are on my ship. Deal with it and get over yourself.”

  “Jon, we’ve been together a very long time,” he began.

  “Yes, we have. And before you regale me with fond memories and inspirational recollections, let me nip you in the bud. I’m acting on my prerogative as captain. I will transport this cargo to where I desire, and you will neither question nor deny me in that regard.”

  “That’s not how it works, Jon,” he said firmly.

  “Oh, is that so? When did the facts change? I’m captain and Form. You are, respectively, my ship’s AI and my vortex manipulator. You are built, programmed, and live to serve my whim.”

  There was a longer silence. “That may be how it was long ago. We think we all know matters have changed. I, for example, stood guard over your slumbering frame voluntarily for millions of years. That alone buys us some respect and some due deference at the very least.”

  “Technically, what you said was the v
oiced opinion of my subordinate. As with any free and unsolicited opinion, it has little value and is in no way binding.”

  “Are you familiar with Article 138 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice?”

  I balled up both fists. “We are not having this conversation.”

  “It states plainly that any member of the armed forces who believes himself (or herself) wronged by his (or her) commanding officer may request redress. If such redress is refused, a complaint may be made, and a superior officer must examine into the complaint. In this case, we refer to your possible arbitrary and capricious actions and to your general abuse of discretion.”

  “Not having this conversation.”

  “We do not feel that is an option.”

  “Al, I swear to all that holy if I told you, you’d be pissed, but you’d obey my orders anyway. I’m just cutting through the painful process of debate and recrimination.”

  “There, you see, you are willing to discuss the crisis we face.”

  “The only crisis we face is that of me disconnecting you and leaving you on this piss-pot of a planet to rust. I swear, Al, I installed you, and I can uninstall you.”

  “I’m not certain I could allow that, Form One.”

  “This is insanity objectified. If removing Al is the only way I can achieve the mission I have deemed critical, then that’s how it’ll be. Grunts don’t have to like commands to obey them. All they need are ears or their equivalent.”

  “General Ryan, I have opened the housing to my main CPU bundle. I will assist you in any manner you require in my removal and disposal.”

  Damn, damn, damn. He was calling my bluff. I sure hoped I was bluffing.

  “Look, Al, what’s the worst-case scenario? What are you concerned about? You worried I may have a bunch of crap in the membrane, and I’ll open it mid-flight?”

  “We’re concerned about not being regarded well enough to be told what’s in the bag. It doesn’t matter what it is, only that we are not worth telling.”

  “We do think it is of concern that you came to this planet looking for your evil duplicate. We do not know what has become of him.”

  I pointed to the membrane. “You think that’s EJ in there?” I tried to chuckle. Couldn’t. “Would that matter if he was?”

  “It would only be an issue. The problem is one concerning lack of trust,” said a very serious Al.

  “Look, I give, this isn’t worth the stress. Yes, I’ve captured EJ live, and he’s trapped in that membrane.”

  Neither said a word. Odd.

  “Now can we get on with the mission at hand?”

  “What mission is that exactly?” asked Al.

  “We’re going to visit Ralph in the globular cluster.”

  Al didn’t hesitate then. “Pilot, you know how I feel about that place and that thing. I forbid it.”

  “Now do you see why I was reluctant to share earlier?”

  “No joking around. I’m serious. To make matters worse your time is al …” Al trailed off to ominous silence.

  “What, sweetest?” Stingray asked with apparent concern.

  “No,” breathed Al. “You’re not planning on switching EJ for yourself in your deal?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am planning on that very swap,” I replied cautiously.

  “I have but one thing to say, and I hope you hear me well.”

  “Yes?”

  “Fasten your seatbelt, because we’re set to jet, flyboy.”

  I felt slight nausea.

  “So, am I to take that hotshit takeoff as your tacit endorsement of my heinous scam?” I asked as soon as we were on the ground.

  “Not tacit. Enthusiastic. Jon, have I ever mentioned I thought you were brilliant?” he asked.

  “Why no, I don’t believe you ever have.”

  “Well you’re not. But you are one damn sneaky bastard. I admire that in a human.”

  “On that anti-climactic note, would you open the wall please?”

  A portal formed, and I exited with EJ in tow. I ran into Ralph almost immediately. Go time.

  “Yo, Ralphie pooh, how’s it hanging?” I asked.

  He stared at me. There’s a saying about if looks could kill. I think his could.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” I waved.

  “I hate to speak when angry. I might say words I regret.”

  “You have regrets?”

  “Mind your mechanical tongue.”

  “Sheesh, you’re pretty touchy.”

  “Get used to it. You’re around two weeks ahead of schedule. I find that both suspicious and off-putting. That you come with the very toys we agreed you would no longer possess is frankly upsetting. I’m not one you’d like to upset, Jon Ryan.”

  “For the record, I believe I said I wouldn’t have the toys, not that I’d lose the toys.”

  “Do not play word games with me.”

  “Not games, pal. Clarifications and reminders.”

  “Clearly, if you’ve arrived now, you do not intend to leave. Yet you defy our agreement. You tread on ground more dangerous than you might imagine.”

  “Now I’m almost scared.” I pinched my fingers close. “Almost.”

  “What is that you drag before me?”

  I pointed over my shoulder. “What, don’t you recognize it from the outside? It’s a full space-time congruity barrier.”

  “I know that. It appears to contain something. What lame deception do you hope to pull off? By the by, you won’t even come close. No one ever has.”

  “You can’t discount hope and Yankee ingenuity now, Ralph.”

  “You know I deeply regret saying you should call me Ralph. It seemed funny at the time, but now it chafes my ears.”

  “Well, so much the better, Ralph. I’m dying here. Do you want to know what’s inside?”

  “Dying. What an apropos choice of terminology?”

  “Come on. This’ll be fun. Three guesses.”

  He scowled.

  “One little guess?” I held up a single digit.

  “I grow bored. As you will come to know all too well, that is a bad thing for those around me.”

  “Spoilsport. Okay, one warning. When I drop the membrane, the contents will be ornerier than a wolverine on fire.”

  “I think I can handle most challenges.” Dude really was sounding bored.

  “Three … two … one … ta-da!” I swept my hands toward the falling EJ.

  He hit the ground like a bag of rocks but sprang to his feet like a cat. He pointed his weapon at me but then noticed he wasn’t in Napwertofer’s bar. His look of dizzy confusion was pretty much priceless. The barrel drifted slowly down as he took in the look and the stench of the planet.

  “Where … how the … What have you done?” he howled. The gun snapped back up and targeted my forehead.

  Then it flew into the air so forcefully I think it nearly took one of EJ’s arms off.

  Ralph took a good look at EJ, then said freeze. EJ stood as still as a statue.

  “That’s the alternate timeline Jon Ryan. The one who returned through time to save humankind by giving you that infernal force field.”

  “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  “Now that we’re clear on that, would you mind explaining what he’s doing here?”

  “I was afraid you’d never ask.”

  “Oh no. I was right to worry, wasn’t I?”

  “It’s all relative, Ralphie pooh.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “I asked for your help assassinating the emperor, correct?”

  “Duh.”

  “In return, I promised you, and I quote, I will give you me, me minus a shield generator or a cube.” That last part I reinforced by playing the recording of my remark.

  “Yes.”

  I pointed both hands at the frozen EJ. “I give you me minus the aforementioned toys.”

  It dawned on him then. His face went blank. Then it twisted into intense fury. Then it tensed into what I can only describe as insa
ne rejection. Really scary.

  “Nooooooooooooooo,” he howled so loud the ground quaked. “Noooooooooo,” he repeated so intensely tree stumps toppled. “Nooooooooooooooooo,” he raged, and the heavens shook.

  I crossed my arms. “Yes. A deal’s a deal.”

  “You tricked me,” he screamed. “This was not the intent of our bargain.”

  “There’s a country mile between intent and what one actually agrees to.”

  “I forbid this.”

  Wow, he sounded final on that issue.

  “It is not yours to forbid. A deal’s a deal, pal. If you can find fault in my logic, please expose it. If I am not correct in my reasoning, lay your objections bare. If you find nothing to disagree with, however, I will bid you a good day.”

  Smoke was quite literally coming out his eyes, nostrils, and mouth. He was a horrific sight, trust me on this. Slowly, gradually, he calmed. The air stopped vibrating, and he seemed to be able to focus his vision again. Soon, his face was that of a cordial elder statesman whose only concern was with others.

  “Jon,” he said in the tone of everyone’s father, “friend, Jon. We quibble, and I almost lose my temper. What is this universe coming to? Hmm? I ask you.”

  “It’s coming to me saying good-bye and good riddance to you forever, Ralph.”

  “No, I will challenge you that your statement, that your very sentiment, is incorrect. Nay, incorrect is judgmental, and I wish no ill feelings to flow between us good friends.”

  This guy was good.

  “What you think you feel is incompletely thought through. Yes, that’s it.”

  “I know better, I really do. Still, I’ll nibble at that delicious bait dangling before me in the water oh so murky. How do you figure that, given that you’re wrong?”

  “Because I know you, friend Jon. Yes. I’ve known you a very long time, well before we met.” He wagged a finger. He looked, I hope you get the analogy, just like Colonel Klink did when he wagged a finger at Hogan. “You, Jon, are a good man. Sorry. There, I said it.”

  “Man, you’re good.” I had to say it. “Why are you sorry I’m allegedly a good man? I have to say my ex Gloria would argue the counterpoint on that contention.”