The Fires Of Hell

by Craig Robertson

  “But I can. You see, in testing my patience, you run a far greater risk than you can know. The price, Jon. What will you lose?”

  “Myself.”

  “Really? I was certain you were going to offer that overgrown dog asleep on your ship.”

  “Would that have been enough?”

  “Not by the length of the universe. He’s so insignificant it boggles the mind.”

  “Figured as much.”

  “But, really, Jon. You offer yourself? What kind of prisoner would you be if I knew you could defeat me at any time? It would be like a sheep laying claim to a panther.”

  “Me without the membrane generator.”

  “Or the magic cube?”

  “No vortex either.”

  “That’s a very tempting offer. But, as you might guess, I’m short on trust and long on crafting an unbreakable pact. Let me read your offer back to you. If I help you …”

  I raised a finger. “Successfully help me. If we don’t win, I don’t owe.”

  “Clever boy, yet again. Fine, if I aid you in your quest to kill the current Adamant emperor and we succeed, you will surrender yourself to me for all eternity after removing your force field generator and abandoning your vortex?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Do not test me, human,” he thundered. “A flippant remark like that might be your last. State your offer without generalities.”

  “If we kill Bestiormax and escape, I will give you me, me minus a shield generator or a cube. I will do so within a year after we assassinate the emperor. There are matters I must attend to before I return here with my payment.”

  “Done.”

  I knew at once it was.

  “You know how badly I want you, Jon?”

  “So badly you let me slip in that year-long delay.”

  “I was being superficial before, Jon, but I must say, you are the clever one.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, what is your plan? I swoop in and vaporize the emperor?”

  “Really? You think I’d come up with a simple plan like that?”

  “No, honestly, I’d hoped for more.”

  “The operation involves you leaving this nurturing globular cluster. I don’t want to overtax you. How long can you remain, you know, viable when you’re not here?”

  “Information, Jon.”

  “No, I need to know to plan the timing.”

  “A month, maybe. The longer I’m away, the weaker I get. But, to prevent you tricking me into dissipating, at some point I must break and leave, no matter what the level of progress might be.”

  “I will …”

  “I know, transport me both directions. I’ve heard that one before. My trust has never run that deep, nor shall it.”

  “So, if you bail on me, the deal is off.”

  “Jon, we have already struck the deal. It cannot be unilaterally altered.”

  “But you hadn’t stated all your conditions.”

  “Imagine if you will, me, however you picture me. Now add me patting myself on the chest. I’m saying evil incarnate.”

  “Which I knew coming into this.”

  “Which concerns me all that much more. When a clever boy like you overlooks details in a contract, I wonder what I’m missing.

  “Excellent. If I have given you pause, so much the better.”

  “Be snug now, my friend. Remember the mine-for-eternity clause. I will get my suffering back with interest.”

  As cold as the grave, I responded. “I’m kind of counting on it. Climb aboard.”

  ELEVEN

  “Monitor, I have an incoming ship requesting to dock,” said the transport tech as he stared intently at his screen.

  Monitor Benfinitas paced over to look. “Are they scheduled to arrive?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then refuse their approach. Inform the Dark Guard of their attempt, and fire on them if they continue in this direction. No unauthorized vessels may approach Excess of Nothing under any circumstances. Not with all the threats His Imperial Lord faces.”

  “I think this might constitute an exception, sir.”

  Benfinitas slapped the back of technician Malorate’s head soundly. “What part of no exceptions do you not understand?”

  “The ones concerning His Imperial Lord’s family. You know how touchy his is about them,” replied Malorate, rubbing his wounded pelt.

  “What are you blathering about? What family?”

  “It is Wedge Leader Garustfulous himself who is hailing us.”

  “That’s preposterous. Garustfulous is dead.”

  “Beg pardon, sir, he’s MIA, not on the dead scroll.”

  Benfinitas shoved Malorate’s chest with his flank. “Move over. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “This is Monitor Benfinitas of the Excess of Nothing. Identify yourself.”

  “I did, worm bait. Allow us to dock or I shall suck out what little brains you possess through your eye socket.”

  “You claim to be His Imperial Lord’s cousin. Can you prove it?”

  “Yes. It complicated, so you’ll need to listen carefully and take notes. You look at me. You realize who I am. You allow me to dock. Any questions?”

  “Pl … please submit a current bioscan.”

  A second later, Garustfulous said flatly, “Done.”

  “This does appear in order,” said Benfinitas mostly to himself.

  “I feel so much better knowing I am me. Now unshield a dock.”

  “A-99-A-35, sir. I’ll inform His Imperial Lord of your arrival,” responded Benfinitas.

  “Understood. Oh, and Monitor Benfinitas?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you feel you have some place you may safely hide, I suggest you go there now.”

  Benfinitas did not acknowledge that last remark. He did feel the boring eyes of all the monitor-hub personnel searing his back, however.

  “Wedgelet Lolirp, I need to use the restroom. You’re in command while I’m away.”

  “Sir.”

  **********

  A small detail of honor guard flanked the hatch as it opened. Garustfulous strode past them like they were invisible. He held a blaster to Jon Ryan’s back, marching the prisoner in front of himself. Behind Garustfulous followed Group Captain Harhoff. He carried a small suitcase. The trio proceeded without asking for directions, and the detail fell in behind them, trying to keep up the quick pace. The officer of the watch started to greet Garustfulous, but refrained at the last moment. He correctly surmised the look on Garustfulous’s face was brooding and uninviting.

  When the three travelers arrived at the doors to the imperial section, they were confronted and stopped by five Midriacks. The fact that the five were stationed outside the private residence attested to the heightened security instituted since Jon’s last visit.

  “State your business,” hissed the lead Midriack. He held his staff up between Garustfulous and himself.

  Garustfulous swept a glance of the guard from toe to head. “None. I have no business with my cousin. Step aside.”

  The guard thumped Garustfulous in the chest to halt his attempt to brush past.

  “How dare you. Your entire clan will suffer for this affront,” snapped Garustfulous.

  “Protocols have evolved since your vacation began. You will submit to bioscan, and I will smell your fur.”

  “I just had one.”

  “And you will have another or die where you stand.”

  “Oh, very well. But be quick about it. My friend and I are anxious to present this prisoner to my cousin.”

  “Then, unfortunately, your friend and you will suffer a grievous disappointment. Neither this unauthorized officer nor this unwashed scum will pass my pod while one still lives.”

  “That is not your decision to make, hollow bones. I am kin. I will do as I see fit.”

  The guard said nothing by way of response.

  A medtech approached Garustfulous gingerly and performed the
scan. “He is who he says he is,” the man said nervously.

  “And who is is that?” asked the guard.

  “Garustfulous.”

  The guard leaned in and pressed his nose against Garustfulous’s cheek. “Yes, I concur. And no fear. I’m impressed, cousin of my master.”

  “Then you’ll allow my friend and prisoner to pass without my killing you and your pets. For as surely as I have no fear of you, I will take no orders from you.”

  “Then we will have a bloody fight here in the passage, shan’t we?” said the guard powering up his staff. The other four flashed theirs to life.

  “I would ask you a question first,” said Garustfulous to the lead. “Would you prefer to lose one of your kinsman in battle or four of them?”

  “I don’t do riddles,” was his terse response.

  “Answer the question.”

  “One, of course.”

  “Of these four sad excuses for warriors, which do you secretly dislike the most? Hmm? Which would you rather see die in pain, prevented from achieving your notion of perfection in the afterlife?”

  “None. I have no preferences. They are all kin.”

  Garustfulous leaned in under the guard’s hood and pressed his lips to his ear. “Come, friend, I’m offering you a choice. Surely there is one you trust the least, one you fear the most. Whisper his name to me. You will thank yourself in an instant.” Garustfulous stepped back to where he was before.

  Garustfulous turned to the four guards. “Which of you goes by the name of Garttelass?”

  The furthest figure raised his staff a centimeter. Then his chest exploded silently. His purple blood shot out in an expanding donut shape until it struck something hard. A wall, a face, or the lead guards cowl.

  The guard who’d spoken the name Garttelass bowed deeply and stepped aside to allow the three guests inside.

  The trio entered as if nothing grotesque and inexplicable had just happened. Garustfulous went directly to his cousin’s personal suites. There, the Midriack on duty made no attempt to block his advance. The door opened automatically, and he led the party in.

  Bestiormax walked quickly toward his beloved cousin. “Garut, when we thought you were dead, it saddened our heart.” He extended his paw holding the ring of office so Garustfulous might kiss it.”

  “No thanks,” Garustfulous said pushing the paw down. “I’ve already eaten.”

  The emperor looked at his kinsman with unbridled horror. Then, he broke out laughing. “You were always getting it over on me, weren’t you, you old hound? You’ve never changed.”

  “Oh, if you only knew the millionth of it.”

  Upon hearing that, Bestiormax had a puzzled look on his face, but he let it pass. “Come, sit. We have food and drink a’plenty. Bitches at our beck and call. Life, my cousin, is good here.”

  “Thank you, old friend,” he responded.

  All three sat, though Jon made it a point to do so awkwardly, as he was acting the part of prisoner. The emperor sat at the head of the low table. His Midriack guards fanned out to have a clear line of sight on each guest.

  “So, who is this officer you bring that we do not know?” asked Bestiormax.

  “This is my partner in crime Group Captain Harhoff. He currently serves aboard Rush to Glory.” Garustfulous took a big swallow of the ale he’d been poured. “Ah, that’s something I’ve not experienced in much too long.”

  The ever more puzzled emperor asked, “What, had such fine ale?”

  “No. Eaten or drunk anything. Odd feeling, but not altogether unpleasant.”

  “My,” said Bestiormax as he had no idea what else to say. “Well there’s an endless supply. Help yourself. You too, Group Captain. Any friend of our cousin’s is a friend of this court.”

  “Oh, he’s not my friend. I said he was my partner in crime. No, I could never be this one’s friend. He’s a visionary you see. He believes in causes larger than himself. He’s willing to sacrifice mightily to achieve a noble goal. He’s not piss-worthy in my book.”

  “Whatever crime is he partners in with you. Oh my, did that come out sounding sober?”

  Garustfulous smiled wickedly. “A minor one of no long-term consequence, I promise you.”

  “Ah. I’m certain that’s a good thing.”

  “You mean we,” corrected Garustfulous.

  “We? We what?”

  “You said I’m certain. You likely meant we’re certain.”

  “Yes. How odd a slip. Ah well, it’s no doubt your company that reminds m … us of simpler times.”

  Garustfulous belched.

  “And this hideous appearing prisoner, who might he be?”

  “Well, he might be Elvis or the Easter Bunny, but he’s not. This,” he poked Jon’s shoulder, “is the fly in your royal ointment, the pus in your pimple. This is the criminal Jon Ryan.”

  Three Midriack lunged toward Jon, and two moved to cover the emperor. For his part, Bestiormax nearly crawled over his guards to distance himself from Jon. Neither Jon nor Garustfulous as much as flinched. The guards stopped short of impaling the prisoner. His Imperial Lord cautiously returned to his seat, his eyes never leaving the prisoner.

  “How can you be certain we are safe? This criminal is resourceful and cruel,” asked Bestiormax

  “He’s not actively involved in this dog and pony show. He's just window dressing.”

  “We say, cousin, your disappearance seems to have affected your nerves in a negative manner. We hardly know you.”

  The three Midriack closest to the guests ignited their staffs.

  “Oh, you know me, Bestiormax. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword.”

  “Kill them!” screamed Bestiormax like a little girl. “Kill them all.”

  None of the guards moved. They were frozen as if statues in park during winter. Bestiormax shot his eyes wildly around the room. The functionaries and other guest were equally still.

  “What’s … what’s the meaning of this?” howled Bestiormax in a panic.

  “As I suggested, cousin, it means Death has come, Hell a’following, with a sword to take your head.”

  “Th … this joke has gone much too far. Cease now, and all will be forgiven.”

  “If by a joke you mean your pitiful reign and meaningless empire, then I agree with you. As to forgiveness, well, that’s not my thing. I’m more the opposite, the reaper of souls, so to speak.” He nodded to Harhoff, who had been tasked with the actual assassination.

  The group captain moved quickly toward his soon-to-be late emperor.

  “No,” screamed Bestiormax. “We forbi—”

  Presumably, the once ruler of all he surveyed was going to say forbid it, but that would never be known. Harhoff produced a large, angry-looking dagger from his waist and roughly sawed Bestiormax’s neck in half. He picked up the bleeding head and dropped it in the suitcase he’d brought precisely for that purpose.

  “I hate to eat and run, but I really think it’s best we be moving on,” said evil incarnate to the decapitated body of the emperor. “No hard feelings, eh?”

  The embodiment of evil received no reply, obviously.

  With the room still full of motionless figures, the three travelers walked casually out of the private suites, out the massive doors of the imperial sector, and back to the stolen shuttle that had ferried them from Blessing. Harhoff had his proof that the reign of the Imperial Lord Emperor Bestiormax-Jacktus-Swillyforth-Anp was over, as was the rule of his house. Jon had fulfilled his promise and owned the knowledge that the accursed empire of the Adamant had started to fall. Evil? Well evil had his man, who happened to be a robot.

  TWELVE

  Because we were sick bastards, Harhoff and I were really looking forward to the moment. To savor it most securely, we decided to insist it happen while we were still aboard Stingray, drifting in the middle of the ga
lactic void. The evil voice, the one that said I should call him Ralph, was still in possession of Garustfulous. Before we returned to his home and to the source of his power, we wanted to see Garustfulous’s response when he was released. To do so on his own turf risked giving Ralph an unfair advantage. Better safe than sorry.

  “Okay, Ralph, release him,” I said, almost giggling.

  “Where is it you fancy I should wait?” he replied. “Shall I float disembodied in the air like a ghost?”

  “Couldn’t care less,” I responded. “Just get out of his body so … so I can determine that he’s unharmed.”

  “Yes, we don’t want any negative consequence to befall our friend,” said Harhoff. I believe those were his first words to Ralph. For some reason, he was intimidated by the malevolent beast.

  “This is not my first rodeo, boys,” replied Ralph. “This worthless wretch, who by the way is no one’s friend, will be fine. May we return to my home now?”

  “As neither of us wrote this into the contract, I’m going to have to insist you obey the captain of this vessel,” I said, not knowing if those were wise words or not.

  “Oh, very well. You know you’re a pair of juvenile delinquents, don’t you?”

  Garustfulous collapsed to the deck like a wet towel.

  From all around us, we heard, “There, are you happy?”

  “That’s a rather open-ended question, but no. I hope to be one day, so thanks for your concern,” I spouted back.

  “Look, he’s moving,” yelped Harhoff as he pointed to the floor.

  “Oh, my head,” moaned Garustfulous. “Did anybody get the ID on the bus that hit me?”

  “He’s fine, just a total wuss,” said the dispersed Ralph.

  “Who’s a wuss?” whined Garustfulous.

  “You, ya big wuss,” I said as I grabbed his arm to help him to a chair. “Do you want a glass of water?”

  “No thank you. I seem to be nauseated and confused.” He shook himself like a wet dogs. Then he looked around the room. “How did I get here? The last thing I recall was having diner in my quarters. Now I’m seated here, and this officer is smiling at me like I’m a sideshow freak. Sir, who are you?”

  “Group Captain Harhoff.”