Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero (20 page)

“The stories you are describing irritate me, so I don’t tend to care for them,” Jonathan said. He was growing impatient at not being able to see the alien’s point.

“Curious,” Heyer said. “Why irritating?”

Jonathan found it difficult to answer. He was finding it incredulous that Heyer was wasting their time with a pedantic rant about human society.

“I don’t know. They always have,” he replied, “but I don’t understand. So, man is obsessed with outrageous hero fantasies. Why the hell are you telling me this?”

“What I’m getting at, Jonathan, is that you are one of the few examples that would give those stories a point. You need to know what it takes to slay monsters, defeat a villain more powerful than yourself? Your culture has been researching it for you since the dawn of human storytelling. You just happen to be one of the few who haven’t indulged in it. I think if you really go looking for what it takes to slay monsters, you’ll find your world is full of information that can help you. After all, inter-dimensional dissemination of human culture is part of what has led to the Ferox targeting Earth in the first place,” Heyer said.

“What do you mean we were targeted?” Jonathan asked.

Heyer paused. He looked annoyed with himself.

“I apologize, Jonathan. It was a poor choice of words. That, unfortunately, isn’t information I can trust you with yet. Still, I’m sure you can imagine, tales of heroics will draw those who wish to measure it.”

Heyer checked his watch.

“It’s near time I leave you,” Heyer said.

He stood from the bench and started to walk toward the center of the open field in the park. Alarmed, Jonathan rose to follow him.

“Wait! That’s it? That isn’t a plan! It’s not even a start!” he said, his fear and anger beginning to swell up as his one life line was leaving him.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I’ll see you again before September. We can talk more then.”

“Wait!” Jonathan said. “Please, one more thing.”

Heyer looked back at him, waiting.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was happening a week ago? Why did you wait?” Jonathan asked. “I could have planned something; I didn’t have to go down there blind.”

Heyer nodded. He seemed to have expected this question earlier.

“It was not my design. Please have no doubts of that. I had worked diligently to arrange events to our advantage, only to have time and circumstances align against me in the weeks leading to tonight. I was unable to return until now, even this was difficult to manage,” Heyer said. “For what it is worth, I think you have seen the consequences of inaction tonight. If you are to become what we need you to be, it’s good that you understand what is at stake.”

Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that.

He wanted to argue that it was reckless bullshit, but he grew quiet when the little girl’s pink coat, her dead eyes, screamed through his memories. He could never allow himself to sit scared on a couch.

“I am sorry, Jonathan.” Heyer said. “You may not have chosen this, but, like me, it has chosen you. Just try to remember, fearing it will not save you from it.”

Anger, panic, and guilt; Jonathan was a storm of emotions that made it hard to speak. He knew he didn’t want the man to leave but didn’t know how to stop him from going.

“I’m going to stop this! You can’t just trap me!” he yelled in defiance. Heyer’s eyes looked sympathetic.

“I hope so, Jonathan, but there is no stopping this, not without casualties. If somehow, you find a way to freedom,” Heyer said, “please show me the way out.”

Heyer smiled thoughtfully then.

“You know, Jonathan, it’s funny, but you do have me wondering. What was it you said? ‘
I’m not some badass
.’ Begs the question doesn’t it? What if you were? Why would that make the difference?”

He was gone then, suddenly missing from existence, just an empty patch of grass where his feet had been.

No flash of light, no portal, no noise, no beam from the sky. He’d simply checked his watch one more time and disappeared. It was as though Jonathan had blinked and upon opening his eyelids the tall blond bastard was just gone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DATE | TIME | LOCATION:
UNKNOWN

WHEN
Heyer blinked into existence, the environment seemed to press in on him from all around. The sky was always red on the Ferox’s surrogate home world. Not the pleasant red of an earthly sunset, but a dense red that made his eyes feel as though he were swimming through a punch bowl. The only contrast against the blood sky was the black smoke rising off the planet’s floor.

He supposed he was late at this point. Malkier, his older brother, would understand. It didn’t make sense to get impatient about these things; they weren’t easy to calculate after all, and at least Heyer was making the journey to him instead of the other way around.

He was surrounded by the perplexing maze of rock-like structures typical of the planet’s crust. The formations would’ve confounded an earthly geologist. Every monolith that rose into the sky resembled obsidian, and Heyer could see his reflection now in the smooth glassy walls of the black corridor around him.

He stepped forward, leaving boot prints in the black sand that had collected on the ground, making his way toward the incline where his brother awaited him. As he turned a corner, Malkier came into view on the rise above him, and he saw his brother take note of his approach.

Malkier unfolded his massive Ferox arms from his chest. Such posture was body language for showing defensiveness on the human planet, and Malkier was aware of that. The two brothers spent so much time amongst their adopted species that they had embraced the mannerisms of their alien hosts. It was a politeness to observe these little details to make one another comfortable when they met.

In truth, Heyer’s body and earthly clothing were truly alien against the backdrop where he now walked. The Ferox wore no clothing, and as such, Malkier almost seemed naked to him. His brother’s muscled frame towered over his human form. The deadly black skin of Malkier’s exterior was complete; no color, just the glistening dark grey skin and overlaying webs of black tar. The only exception was a ragged white scar that ran down the side of his brother’s cheek and neck. Heyer hated that scar.

The Ferox knew instinctively what Malkier’s skin meant. It was the sign of an aged warrior who had sired many children, a leader of their tribes. His brother had taken the body of one of the few Ferox alphas, so that his ability to lead the Ferox would not be questioned.

“Hello, Brother,” Heyer said as he reached the cliff top.

Malkier nodded.

“You’ve been missed,” Malkier said.

Heyer returned his nod.

“I trust you’ve reviewed my reports,” Malkier said, straight to business.

“Yes,” Heyer replied, “they indicate that we should continue on our original path.”

Malkier nodded.

“So you’ve had no new challenges maintaining our arrangement on your end?” Malkier asked. “Operations as usual?”

“Yes, the inactive districts have been reinforced. I trust you delayed access to the gates I specified?” Heyer asked.

“The delay you requested was initiated; the Ferox did not respond well to this, but now that the districts are reinforced, it seems like this is no longer necessary,” Malkier stated.

Heyer nodded.

He had to be careful in his diplomacy. He’d hoped to delay attacks on Jonathan’s behalf, and had vaguely explained to his brother that he was having trouble reinforcing Jonathan’s gate. It was a failed ruse, as a Ferox had still made its entry ahead of schedule. It was a miracle the kid had survived. Still, the delay had bought Jonathan the time he now had to prepare.

“Have you reconsidered any of the other measures?” Malkier asked.

Heyer sighed heavily.

“My answer has not changed. Earth has already involuntarily been forced to deal with problems it is not responsible for, they should make no additional sacrifices,” Heyer said.

Heyer could see his brother didn’t respect his answer. He worried that he’d made a misstep.

“Heyer, do not forget your position; if you were not family, if Earth was not your home, I would sacrifice the entire planet. I have no love for the humans you prize so dearly. They’ll exterminate themselves eventually, might as well do something useful with their existence,” Malkier said.

Heyer cautioned himself. After all, when Malkier had come to him with his intentions to exploit Earth, it was only after months of arguments and arrangements that their precarious balance had been found. Heyer had, of course slipped in some clauses to their agreement that provided Earth some fail safes, but he didn’t doubt that his brother had done the same on behalf of the Ferox. Regardless, it could all be for nothing if Malkier lost his temper and decided to betray their arrangement entirely. Heyer feared the day that his brother’s love of the Ferox surpassed his love of family.

“Please accept my apology. What I meant to say is, I still believe it is important that the beings making this sacrifice for their species be allowed to keep their memories. More importantly, we may face participation complications if we handicap either side involved in the engagements. My ability to keep the humans involved is a thin smoke screen after all. I prefer not to lie to them, I am sure that you too know the repercussions should you be exposed in a lie by the Ferox.”

“Yes, well, what the Ferox don’t know is genuinely for their own good,” Malkier replied. “The value of what you choose to tell the humans is subjective at best.”

“I can’t deprive them of their defeats, Brother, as such; I feel it is only fair that they at least be allowed to remember their victories. It would weigh too heavily on my already burdened conscience to deny them this,” Heyer said.

They both stood looking at each other, Malkier a foot taller than his brother in his Ferox body. They would’ve appeared odd to either of the species they hid amongst. Heyer was too graceful, too statuesque for a human; while Malkier was too calm, too thoughtful for a Ferox. When it became clear they were at a stalemate Heyer spoke.

“So we agree to continue per the original arrangement,” Heyer said. “Access to the gates will resume.”

“For now,” said Malkier. “As we may have eventual use for those memories, I’ll not demand you ignore your burdened conscience.”

Heyer nodded, and turned to leave. Halfway down the slope he looked back to wave at his brother as a sign of farewell, regardless of their argument, but Malkier was gone. He had already returned to his tribe; likely eager to reinstate full access to the gates, for which he would be praised.

It was a good sign, at least, that Malkier trusted him enough not to make sure he’d departed. He wasn’t suspicious that Heyer might be off to anywhere other than his adopted home planet, diligently on his way to making the necessary arrangements that would keep their schemes up and running. Sure enough, Heyer would return to earth soon. First though, there were things he needed to see here with his own eyes, suspicions that needed resolution.

It was better that Malkier didn’t know, as Heyer’s intentions weren’t betrayal. They were a wariness of his brother’s objectivity. Heyer had to see for himself if Malkier’s reports of his adopted Ferox were what they seemed. His brother loved the Ferox too much, and that love could easily alter the information he sent to Heyer under the guise of unbiased observations.

He had no specific reason not to believe his brother, just a rising suspicion. Heyer knew that if it meant saving human lives, he would rationalize every omission he might decide to leave from his own reports. In fact, he’d already made such omissions. With this in mind, he made his way toward one of the Ferox population zones.

He could not delay. Travel between the realms left earth to its own devices longer than Heyer preferred. The split second he experienced traveling here, could mean a week had passed back home. A week or a month could be disastrous if the universe turned against him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FRIDAY | JULY 01, 2005 | 8:30 AM

JONATHAN
stared up at his ceiling from his bed. Sleep had been impossible and it was early in the morning now.

Sometime during the night he’d fought through panic over his approaching future. It wasn’t gone now, but carefully maneuvered to the side of his mind and held there by sheer force of will.

He’d wondered, now that he found he was unable to sleep, about those two moments when he seemed to be forced back into the waking world. How he’d had such a strong sense that he wasn’t meant to wake. He’d wondered if that feeling was because he’d briefly been dead, brought back from the brink twice now by the damn alien who’d caused him to die in the first place.

You may not have chosen this but it has chosen you. Fearing it will not save you from it
.

Heyer’s words repeated over and over in his head. At first he hated the bastard for saying it. Where did the alien get off talking to him about fear? He wasn’t the ‘expendable’ part of this relationship after all, was he? No, he’d made that clear, yet somewhere around three in the morning Jonathan had thought about his options more. He had to accept the truth of it. There was no denying the words. Sitting in his room scared for three months being angry at an alien was only going to get him killed. Going about life as if nothing had changed would do the same.