The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption (32 page)

A flash of anger washed over me.
She
was the one who’d succeeded in the mission.
I
should’ve been
the one to die … Or maybe we could’ve merged, so that
both
of us could live. Damn these paradoxes! I suddenly understood why
Zygfed considered unauthorized temporal leaping a very serious
crime.

But she—I—didn’t deserve the death penalty.
No one does. I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned my gaze once
again to the stars.

* * *

M81 Galaxy—present day

Benedict’s planet-ship loomed enormous on our
viewscreens. My reflections on my future self’s demise had rapidly
been superseded by my ongoing worry about my comrades. Yes,
Agriarctos had located the “Death Star” in M81. But, were my
friends still alive on board, or would I find myself following them
to Level Three as soon as I handed over my Ergal and its package to
Benedict? With the planet-ship’s impenetrable shields blocking our
scanners, I had no way of finding out from space.

The Nautilus was welcomed with open hangar
doors and we landed without obstructions—no surprise. After all, we
still hadn’t made our “delivery”. We stepped off our ship in the
vessel’s hangar and found ourselves—alone. I stood dazed, expecting
any minute to be greeted with a hostile welcome and a guided trip
back to my cell. But, Agriarctos motioned for me to follow him with
an urgent “Come on!”

Scans, scans, scans. Steps, steps, steps.
Minutes had passed, and no one had joined us, or attacked us.
Agriarctos had led me once again to the giant chamber with the
three domes. The spheres I had witnessed on my first visit were
still missing. I suppressed a shiver. The cavernous room seemed
empty and cold.

“Give me your Ergal!” barked the Ursan.

“What?”

“Your Ergal,” he repeated.

Robotically, I reached into my pocket and
pulled out the instrument, handing it to my erstwhile partner.
“Here …”

Agriarctos activated some settings for a few
moments, and then I heard the Ergal vibrate once again. An
ant-sized sphere M-fanned next to the Ergal and started to float
away towards the enormous open vault of the chamber above our
heads. As it soared, it grew larger and larger and was soon the
size of a beach ball, its internal lights flickering brightly in
shades of white and yellow, bathing us in a comforting warmth.

“Well done,” a familiar voice behind us
cheered.

Benedict. I didn’t turn to face him. “My
friends?”

“I have kept my end of our agreement as
well,” he responded. “They are unharmed.”

Relieved, I did an about-face and pointed a
finger up at the new sphere. “What is that?”

“Not ‘what’, my dear,” he said gently,
“’who’. My mother.”

I suddenly felt myself shaking, and I didn’t
know why. I just wanted to get out of here, to go home. Not to
Malibu, but to Maryland, to see Andi, and Billy, and Bobby, and
Kris, and Blair, and Connie, and George—and John, especially John.
Again.

The tears came and I didn’t bother to try to
stop them. It was only Spud’s arm around my shoulders that helped
me ease my sobbing. Spud! Matshi! Eikhus! Sarion! Setsei and
Suthsi! Pallas and his mates! All around me, reaching out to me, in
the living room with the crackling fire in Benedict’s country
cottage. All alive!

First, hugs and laughter. And then, “Nephil
Stratum?”

Suthsi spoke first. “I released her with my
Geryon.”

“She insists on helping Benedict,” Setsei
said sadly. “She is convinced it’s the right thing to do …”

“They’re going to try going to … the other
side,” Suthsi whispered, trembling.

“To another brane,” Spud corrected. “Another
dimension. With Nephil Stratum’s assistance, Benedict might be able
to channel enough energy from SN1993J, one of M81’s largest suns,
to succeed in transporting himself and his mother this time, if not
this entire ship.”

My eyes met Spud’s. “Is that what John did?
Channel energy from a sun to cross into another brane?”

Spud nodded. “It’s certainly possible his
Somalderis was a Syneph, too. Anamorphed as a ram, a fleece.
Helping your brother draw energy from the Sun closest to his portal
so he could make a crossing. Or …” He stopped and looked down at
his feet.

“You might discover the answers if you joined
us on our journey,” a gentle voice said from the door. We turned
and saw Nephil Stratum ease into the room.

“Or, I might find … nothing on the other
side,” I said, my voice cracking. I shook my head and snorted,
“Come on, Nephil Stratum. You’re acting as if it’s even my choice.
Benedict’s going to decide our fate now.”

“You always have a choice,” Benedict
announced as he strode into the room.

“You mean if we don’t make the, uh, trip with
you, you’re just going to let us go?” I said bitterly. “Just like
that?” I snapped my fingers. “Aren’t you supposed to be a
villain?”

Matshi interjected. “He wants to kill His
Highness. That makes him one.”

“I want to,” Benedict agreed, “but obviously
I can’t. At least not now. And not for the reasons you might
think,” he added to Matshi.

“So, instead he’s going to run,” Eikhus
posited.

Benedict smiled for a moment. “So, ‘I’m going
to run in such a way that I may win it.’”

“What’s ‘it’?” I asked, curious.

“’It’ is 1 Corinthians 9:24–27. Sort of.”
Spud’s eyes met Benedict’s. “‘Do you not know that in a race all
the runners run, but only one gets the prize?’”

Benedict laughed. “Escott, I have a few
regrets in my life, and one of them is that I can’t take you with
me.” To my shock, he reached out a hand to my partner.

To my even greater shock, Spud took his hand
and shook it.

* * *

With Benedict’s acquiescence, Nephil Stratum
Ergaled us back to the Nautilus in the hangar.

None of the group except for me was willing
to talk to her. As my cohorts entered the ship, I took a moment to
step away and pull her aside. My hands felt safe nestled in her
tufts, and I felt more than a twinge of sadness at the thought that
I probably would never see her again.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked, with a
hint of desperation.

“Yes,” she responded softly. “It has to be
done.”

Trying to keep my voice steady, I ventured,
“Well, then, I know it’s just me dreaming, but … if you make it …
and if you find John …” My voice cracked again. “Please tell him to
come home …”

I felt her tufts tenderly squeeze my hands,
just as Matshi stuck his head out of the Nautilus’ fuselage and
yelled, “Rush, remember your name!”

Nodding, I pulled my arms away and said,
“Well, thank you for the, uh, ka’vyr.”

“There is an old proverb, from one of your
Terran countries, China, I believe,” Nephil Stratum said. “Without
experiencing a thing, one can not gain knowledge from it. Have a
safe journey—and wish me the same.”

I stood still, struggling with mixed
feelings. Finally, after Nephil Stratum had almost reached the
hangar door, I shouted, “You, too!” and, without looking back,
Ergaled into our ship.

* * *

En route to Zyga—present day

I was relieved that Eikhus was back at the
helm of the Nautilus for our return to Zyga. I was drained and
exhausted, and not eager to battle the winds of space again at nav
controls. Assuming we’d arrive safely, we’d have a lot of
‘splaining to do, and I needed to use the voyage gather my
strength—and my wits. Meanwhile, unable to truly believe that
Benedict would simply set us free after our capture, Matshi and the
Megarans had spent the last few minutes scanning the ship for
potential booby traps.

The Nautilus seemed clear, even after Setsei
did a Geryon scan. With little fanfare, we launched through the
opening hangar door and departed post-haste from HDWhocares.

Spud seemed unusually quiet, sitting in one
corner of the bridge, his head buried in a scanning holo.

I ambled over. “What’re you looking for?” I
asked casually.

“I am not certain,” he replied. “Some type of
a disturbance.”

After a few more moments, he straightened
quickly, exclaiming, “There. There it is!”

We mega’ed the holo so we all could see what
Spud had observed.

“A portal!” Eikhus cried, shooting a spray of
mist at the center of the display, “Only twelve thousand kilometers
from HD5927!”

“No, not that.” Spud pointed at the lower end
of the screen. “Down here, approaching us. See this flux?”

It was barely visible, but definitely
there—and coming at us very, very fast. “Fusion Torpedo!” shouted
Matshi. “Eikhus, evasive!”

Eikhus immediately amped the nav and pitched
our ship violently to one side and on a new course, speeding away
from the missile as fast as possible. Unfortunately, his efforts
were unproductive, as the bomb seemed to duplicate our every move,
all the while nearing closer and closer. My cohorts’ suspicions
were right. Benedict was not going to let us get away alive!

“Shields!” Matshi ordered, as he pulled up
the Nautilus’ weapons console and started running his fingers over
the holo.

Setsei continued to monitor the torpedo’s
progress. “Three thousand kilometers to impact.”

Matshi shouted, “Firing torpedoes with
track!” We heard the grinding sound of the Nautilus’ weapons
launching mechanism under our feet.

“Missed,” Spud said without visible
emotion.

“Two thousand kilometers to impact,” Suthsi
advised tremulously. “Try again?”

“Wide scatter blast, now!” Matshi fired
another round of homing torpedoes.

“Benedict’s ship!” I pointed at the center of
the scanning holo. “It’s almost at the portal!”

“Missed again,” Spud declared to Matshi’s
frustration.

“One thousand kilometers to impact,” Setsei
chimed in once more.

“Better hope our shields hold,” Sarion didn’t
joke.

“Don’t hold your breath.” Matshi shot off
another sequence of lasers and torpedoes—in vain.

“Eight hundred kilometers, seven hundred
kilometers …,” Suthsi continued to count softly.

Desperate to avoid listening to the countdown
to our looming demise, I watched as Benedict’s craft stopped at the
edge of the portal. A thin cloud smoothly seeped out of the planet
and soon blanketed the entire sphere. The Somalderis, Nephil
Stratum!

Our holo showed that, within seconds, her
color transformed from its downy white to a luminescent golden
yellow as she channeled solar energy and cosmic rays to Benedict’s
planet-ship for the voyage.

“Three hundred kilometers, two hundred
kilometers to impact …,” Suthsi intoned.

“Prepare for impact,” Matshi yelled.

We took our Catascope 101 APPs (Avoidance
Preparation Procedures) and implemented them immediately. There was
little chance we could survive a fusion bomb, but—

The flash of light was blinding and our ship
rocked violently. All our screens went blank for a few moments.
Fortunately, the shock waves from the bomb must have dissipated in
the vacuum of space before impacting our ship, and the rocking
eased quickly, under Eikhus’ expert nav control. We were all, to
our immense relief, alive and uninjured. But when the screen
displays flickered on again, we saw that Benedict’s planet-ship had
disappeared! The starfield we’d been viewing was now deserted—with
no sign of Nephil Stratum, HD5924, or of the portal, anymore.

“What happened?” I asked, shaken.

Eikhus shook his head. “I don’t have a clue
…”

Matshi was subdued. “
We
should be the
ones who … vanished.”

“Detritus near the portal?” pressed Spud
anxiously. Remnants from Benedict’s ship might give us an
indication of their fate.

“I’m checking,” Eikhus responded, his fingers
moving from holo to holo. In a few minutes, he shook his head.
“Nothing.”

“Did they transition … or explode?” Suthsi
asked quietly.

Eikhus sighed as he continued to search his
holos. “I don’t know,” the Kharybdian responded. “One way or
another, they’re gone.”

* * *

Setsei had finished a Geryon sweep of our
ship, and, to our relief, found no significant external or internal
damage. Eikhus followed with a scan of our perimeter, and
identified scattered fragments of the detonated fusion bomb—the
bomb that should’ve scattered
us
into fragments. Further
checks on our vessel, however, showed we didn’t even have a tiny
scratch.

“Hello!”

We all turned to look at Spud, who was
diligently focused on his holo screen.

“There is a comm module among the local bomb
debris,” he explained. “I shall tractor it in.”

“Could be a trap,” Matshi warned, pulling out
his stun gun. “Guns at the ready,” he commanded in true Zygint
form.

As we Ergaled our stun guns and aimed them at
the expected M-fan site of the comm module, Spud scanned the small
silver sphere and then Ergaled it on board and up to the bridge.
The module was a bit larger than standard Zygan models, about the
size of a Terran watermelon, and was covered with lettering that
resembled the writing we had seen on the comm equipment on
Benedict’s ship. From M82 or 81?

Setsei cautiously approached it, his Geryon
ready, and ran a Geryon scan as we held our breaths. The Ytran
finally nodded, and said with little confidence, “Activate.”

Our fingers on our triggers, we watched the
module emit a low-pitched buzz and then a holo, which rapidly
coalesced into the shape of a hulky, furry Ursan.

“Agriarctos!” I cried. “Where are you?”

The Ursan looked around and smiled. “That’s
classified. Glad to see you all made it.”

“We almost didn’t,” I chided.

Spud snorted. “
You
fixed the bomb so
it would explode just before it hit us.”