JB remained on one knee, still surrounded by sparkles of light. Trevor saw his son taking deep, exhausted breaths.
“Jorgie-Jorgie, are you-are you okay?”
JB’s eyes appeared to be watching something; something Trevor could not see.
“Father, I see now. I understand. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I am- am becoming whole again-Father I’m very tired.”
JB placed a hand to his forehead.
Trevor took a step forward-and stopped.
They materialized from the glittering energy field like ghosts taking physical form. Trevor realized that the door through space and time his son had commandeered from Voggoth remained open. But open to where?
The light dimmed in the slightest but still surrounded the players on center stage. The sour stench of Voggoth’s earthly lair faded; the feeling of swirling energy calmed.
The newcomers gave JB-still exhausted; still kneeling-a glance before drifting into a circle around Trevor. Their hands-the hands of children-reached and touched his skin as if ensuring the reality of his existence.
He eyed each of the six one by one. A Hivvan, a Duass. A Witiko without a trace of silver cosmetic. A Centurian with big black eyes; a Geryon lacking the leather armor Trevor had seen his people wear on the parallel Earth.
Trevor saw a familiar face as the hands stopped reaching and the children retreated into a ring round him. He dropped to a knee and greeted the Chaktaw girl-Alenna-at eye level, with a smile.
She returned his smile as she asked, “Do you know who we are? Do you know what we are?”
Trevor sighed as he replied, “You are an advanced evolution of each of your races. Probably from some-from some original universe. Did you create the eight parallel universes?”
The Hivvan boy said, “The original universe is older than you can imagine. Its creation resulted in echoes of itself; empty echoes. Identical but lacking in sentient life.”
“Like rings in water after a pebble has been dropped in a puddle,” the Duass spoke through a short bill.
The Geryon added, “An infinite number of echoes. You are aware of only eight because we chose to create bridges between only those eight.”
“And in the original universe,” Trevor’s words felt heavy on his lips. Heavy with disappointment. “In it, eight races. But an empty Earth. Humanity sprung to life on Sirius. The rest-each of you-on your own home worlds. And you evolved there, for eons.”
“Yes,” the Centurian confirmed. “Our races are far older than you can comprehend.”
The others added their voices one after another.
“We grew beyond the physical.”
“Our minds evolved.”
“A synergy of matter and energy; the energy of our intellect.”
“Our technology advanced in ways you would be unable to grasp, but our beings advanced even further.”
Trevor held his hands aloft and cringed as he filled in many of the blanks for himself, wishing with each word he were wrong but knowing otherwise.
“So you accessed a universe for each race, seeding the planets to mimic what your universe was like in the beginning. Each universe identical in almost every way, except for one way. Mankind living on Sirius in each, except for one. In one you moved my people here, to this Earth. You did the same for each of the races in one of the universes. I don’t understand. Why?”
The Witiko sneered as if the reason should be obvious to any creature of intelligence, “To maintain identical conditions. To ensure equality in the test.”
“Test? So, what-Earth offered an environment suitable for each of the races. You erased any advantages of position or geography or weather or anything you couldn’t control, and found equal ground. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just to kill each other off.”
“You see, I told you he could not understand,” the Duass said.
“He is unable to grasp the complexities,” the Geryon admitted.
The Witiko grumbled a tirade, “There is no reason to share this information. His understanding is irrelevant. Contamination has occurred here, resulting in our reunification which was something to be avoided until the end of the challenge.”
Alenna spoke, “We must deal with the changing circumstances. The use of the parallel cosmos’ was intended to prevent such contamination. His actions here were a surprise. Our planning did not consider this possibility.”
“You screwed up.” Trevor voiced his accusation in a soft tone, but they reacted as if thunder had burst in their ears. Their eyes grew wide. Their children’s faces twisted into expressions of offense.
“You made a mistake,” Trevor repeated and found satisfaction in making them speechless. “Congratulations. It shows you’re human. Or, I guess, it shows you’re just people, just like me.”
“We are not just like you,” the Hivvan corrected. “Do not be deceived by our physical bodies.”
“Yes, yes,” Trevor waved a hand dismissing their pompous attitude. “You not only seeded the races on Earth, you seeded yourselves inside those races. You say you evolved beyond the physical? Well then, what-you split yourselves in two? You scrambled your physical beings-your genes-into the gene pool. And you waited. You waited for the combination to be put together again. That was the chain I was on, wasn’t it?”
Unlike the others, Alenna did not appear offended at Trevor’s rant. The faintest hint of a smile flickered on her Chaktaw lips as she nodded and answered, “Yes, Trevor Stone, we waited-and watched. And prepared.”
He glanced around at each of the young-looking ones and made eye contact as he continued, “You prepared. Because everything had to be equal. You recorded a collection of genetic memories so that a leader could fight on behalf of his entire people. You influenced everything so that when the war came each race would have the same starting point. A level playing field.”
The Witiko insisted, “It is the perfect design to test the worthiness of each race. To see which life pattern is strongest.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? Is it? Yes, of course,” Trevor lectured. “You are all so very evolved. You call it a challenge or a test. To you it is an experiment. A controlled experiment. Why don’t you call it what it is? Death. Misery. War. Destruction. You have no right to do this.”
The Centurian said, “On behalf of our races and in the interest of reaching our full potential, some sacrifices must be made for the greater good.”
The Hivvan added, “Unfortunate in many ways, yes, but necessary for the benefit of all.”
The Witiko said, “It is the obligation of those with the power and intelligence to-”
“To make decisions for the rest?” Trevor interrupted. “To force your will upon others? You are playing god.”
The Duass quickly pointed out, “From your limited perspective, we are gods.”
Trevor erupted, “You are no such thing! Don’t fool yourself. You did not create life. You copied it and placed it on this empty world not because you should, but because you could. This isn’t just about fighting, it’s about showing off. Which of you first breached the dimensional barriers? Which of you re-created each race’s environment and genetic codes in the primordial soup of one Earth after another? Which of you hit upon the idea of separating apart your physical body and slipping it into this re-creation of evolution? If you wanted a war, then you should have fought it among yourself instead of dragging billions more into your game.”
“Distasteful.”
“Devastating.”
“A war between our evolved selves could have torn the fabric of existence to pieces.”
Trevor snapped, “And it’s so much more fun to watch the barbarians fight it out. Tell me, do you place side wagers? Have you bet on the outcome?”
The Geryon took offense, “Ridiculous! This is no sport but a challenge of evolution.”
The Duass said, “Even the universes are of finite existence, they will eventually collapse, leaving nothing but the void. The void is eternal. Through this challenge of evolution we will determine which race is worthy to exist there.”
Trevor said, “The void is where Voggoth comes from.”
The Hivvan agreed, “Our life patterns are all different. It is critical that we understand which is superior. For this answer, we chose to look at our roots. What we once were.”
Trevor shut his eyes and shook his head.
“You’re just children, after all. Just children with questions about who you are, and why you are. What is your purpose? But you are children with the power to rip apart space and time.”
“Your metaphor is insulting and incorrect,” the Centurian noted. “But, yes, we search for the answers to existence by looking first at ourselves. We agreed that this challenge was the best way to discover which life pattern is superior. In doing so, we will be a step closer to achieving immortality.”
That caught Trevor’s attention. His eyes snapped open again. He glanced about the ring of children as if searching but not finding what he sought. His mouth hovered open for a moment as he tried to form the words to express his thoughts.
“Imm-immortality. You are all mortal…”
Alenna said as Trevor’s words faltered, “Each of our races exist less as what you would call individuals and more as collectives, a merging of our technology and our physical form to the point that our life span stretches for eons, but in the end we are still mortal. Like the universes themselves, one day we will end. There is only one who has broken free of such constraints and evolved to the point of immortality.”
The Duass spoke, “Only one not confined to the physical realm. One that has achieved evolution beyond the need for any physical presence.”
Trevor found the answer, “Voggoth.”
“He lives in the void between the universes. He is older than all of our races by a measure of time beyond even our ability to track,” Alenna explained.
“A superior form of existence.”
“A type of intelligent energy. An intellect surpassing any of ours.”
“Perfection.”
Trevor’s eyes narrowed. He felt the skin on the back his neck tingle as a shiver coursed through his spine.
“Yes. I see it now,” he whispered. “It’s all so very clear.”
The children eyed him suspiciously.
Trevor strolled slowly around the Hivvan and Duass representatives and walked outside of the ring, stooping to whisper in each child’s ear as he spoke.
“Voggoth-so completely different from you-so much older. So much-so much wiser. He has what you covet, doesn’t he? Immortality. You see that as superior, don’t you?”
“It is superior,” the Geryon insisted.
The Witiko clarified, “Even we succumb to death. Both our physical and mental selves have a finite existence, although we have come to view time much different than your limited perspective allows.”
Trevor snarled, “My limited perspective sees things clearer than you do.”
“Foolishness!”
“I don’t’ think so,” he circled. They listened.
Trevor stooped to the Duass’ ear.
“I can share the secrets if you are worthy. We must find who is superior.”
He strolled another step to Alenna.
“Is it you? Is your way correct?”
He stood, walked another pace, then stooped behind the Hivvan.
“You are such a marvelous race-not like the others-I think you are superior.”
The Hivvan snarled, “You mock us.”
“No,” Trevor corrected as he circled behind the Centurian. “I mock your foolishness. I can hear the whispers in your ear. Tell me, Hivvan, did Voggoth take you aside and tell you how different you are from the rest?”
The Hivvan shifted uneasily but did not answer.
“What about you, Witiko? Did Voggoth come to you one day and tell you how he admires your race, how you are far superior. Did he tell you how the other races are holding you back? Did he promise to share all the secrets if only you would cast aside the others?”
The Geryon insisted, “You have no frame of reference. You have never encountered beings as evolved as us.”
Trevor sneered, “You are not as evolved as you think. There is nothing standing here that I have not seen before. I’ve seen arrogance and pride. I’ve seen those who do because they can and not because they should. I’ve seen architects of destruction move people about as pawns. I’ve seen the so-called greater good be the good for a few. I’ve seen cold, calculating ‘logic’ translate into misery. I’ve seen it all before because while I may not know much about time, I know history. And I’m seeing it all over again.”
“Insolence.”
“A lack of perspective.”
“How dare you speak to us this way.”
“This is a far too complicated matter for your limited intellect.”
Trevor continued, “It is not complicated at all. You wish it to be so, so that you could hide behind the idea of gray areas and different perspectives and oh, the complexity of it all! But it is simple. It is war. It is war for pride’s sake. It is a war waged because of whispers in ears, because of promises of greatness, because you have come to know that despite how great you are, you are humbled in the face of the forces of nature, of the universe.”
Alenna peered at Trevor as if searching for clues on his face and said, “You speak in riddles. How are we-the greatest of all living things-humbled?”
“Because you don’t know all the answers. You have kidded yourself into thinking you created all the pieces for your little game, but you haven’t, have you?”
“Nonsense!” spat the Hivvan
“Really? Tell me why I command armies of canines?”
All of the children appeared ready to answer, but stopped. Their collective mouths shut.
“Yes, that’s what I thought. You don’t know, do you? Something in my genes. Something put there; another gift added into the chain you manipulated. Someone spiked your little concoction, didn’t they?”
“A part of evolution, nothing more,” the Witiko tried to sound sure but did not.
Trevor told them, “You put life on trial-nature-and that nature, that power of life defends itself through me. That is why on each Earth a helper species evolved. A defense mechanism, rooted in the truth that all of life sprouted from one organism.”
The Duass spat, “Nonsense.”
“Really? Tell me, on your home worlds in the original universe, did your people develop such an ability? I know Alenna’s father commands the Behemoths on the Chaktaw’s version of Earth. What is it the Witiko have on their side on their Earth? Or the Hivvans? But in your original universe- nothing. ”
Trevor thought of Nina and Armand and added, “Why is it that among my people there are those who have been waiting for this fight? Why are some destined to be champions?”
Alenna cocked her head as if trying to hear a distant, faint thought. “Are you suggesting that Voggoth did this?”
“The Chaktaw should refrain from feeding these fantasies!” came a shout from the young Witiko.
Trevor shook his head. “No. Not Voggoth. Something else. Something greater. The power of life itself. What some might call nature, others might think of as God, or the greater plan of the Universe. Forces beyond your comprehension. Beyond your control.”
“Speculation!”
“Ridiculous!”
“Foolishness!”
Trevor circled the ring of children again. They followed with their eyes.
“I don’t know the answers. I am content not to ask for all the answers. I was content to live my life. You took that from me. From all my people. You took it because you have been manipulated, used.”
“That is not true,” the Duass child said. “This undertaking is the result of our different races reaching the conclusion that evolution would be best served by determining which way of life is the strongest and that only the strongest would be worthy of Voggoth’s favor.”
The Geryon agreed, “Each of our races is different. Our environments vary greatly. Each, however, evolved into a higher life form. Through this conflict, the differences between our races will become clear and the strongest will survive.”
Stone concluded, “I’ve read about it time and again in the history books of my people. You are no different from my world’s Hitler or Genghis Khan, or Napoleon. You think you are superior; you think that if your race wins this challenge then you will impose your will on the others.”
The Centurian echoed, “That is the way of things. The strong survive.”
Trevor pleaded again, “No! You are doing this because you have been used! You look to Voggoth and somehow, for some reason, you see something that you think is better than what you are. And so he has used that against you. He has convinced you to fight one another with the victor promised the chance to learn what oh-so-mighty Voggoth knows of the universe. ”
“Voggoth is perfect! He is immortal. He is not confined to the physical universe!”
Trevor countered the Centurian’s claim in a shout, “He is not allowed in the physical universe! Look what happened when a child of life touched it! It was banished from this place in an instant! It has no real power, only the power you give to it!”
The children shook their heads, some violently.
“Listen to me! See! For the sake of life-see!”
Alenna threw her eyes to Trevor and asked, “What do you mean, for the sake of life?”
Trevor’s anger morphed into anguish. Sadness. Pity.
He strode slowly to Alenna, knelt, and touched a hand to her cheek.
“We-you-and I-all of us-we are the living. We are life. Voggoth is-Voggoth is death. He was never like us. He did not evolve into an immortal entity, he has always been that way. It’s his prison! He is the same now as he was at his creation. Static and dead. No evolution. No reproduction. No purpose. No challenge.”
The Duass meekly answered, “He is immortal. We can-we can become immortal, too.”
The Witiko insisted, “If only we can understand ourselves. If we can find out what makes us different-who is strongest and why.”
“Immortal,” Trevor explained, “is not better. It is our very mortality that makes us special and unique. It is our mortality that makes us strive to improve ourselves. It is what makes us want more for our children; for our next generation. Yes, you are evolved and great, but you stand on the shoulders of all of us who came first. All the steps in the process. All the stages of life. You owe it to those who came before you to cherish that life given to you. To champion life, and protect it.”
The Hivvan said, “Voggoth is a being of immense power. He can manipulate life itself.”
“Is that true? Can Voggoth do that? Or is it you letting him manipulate life. Power, is never taken, it is given. What has Voggoth been able to do without you? I suggest, nothing. He could not start this war, he could only make you start it. He cannot evolve you into beings as powerful as he, but if you let him he can change you; make you into warped, lifeless reflections of yourself. He has no life. He cannot create, he can only destroy. Because of that he envies you, to the point that he wants you destroyed.”
“Voggoth is supreme,” came the voice of the Geryon.
“No, Voggoth only has what you give him. He thrives on your arrogance and pride, on your vanity. He feeds you lies and manipulates you. He awes you with his age and makes you covet what he has even though he truly has nothing at all. He is evil. Evil itself, in every way. He enjoys inflicting suffering on the living out of his envy for that life. He is shallow and empty but projects an image of power. Yet it is all an illusion.”
The Centurian objected, “Evil? We are beyond such absolutes. There is no evil, only facts and science. Only truth that waits to be discovered.”
“You are wrong,” Trevor told them. “Evil exists, as surely as good does. I know, I have seen both.”
He glanced into Alenna’s eyes and held his hands low and palms out, still pleading.
“He has convinced you of your differences. Told you that your ‘life patterns’ are distinct. He has made you wonder if one of your ways is better than the other.”
The Witiko agreed, “Yes. To grow to our full potential we must discover why we are so different and which way is best. Throughout the universes even the most basic living creatures compete for survival. From civilizations to microbes, those entities that are superior eventually win such competition.”
The Duass added, “This challenge eliminates any variables giving each race the same point of origin in an identical environment. This challenge is structured perfectly.”
“No! Your entire premise is wrong!”
The children all spoke at once, creating a chorus of indistinguishable words that translated only as anger and contempt for such a brash suggestion from a puny being.
“You are wrong!” Trevor shouted above the chorus, silencing it. “He has convinced you that strength is to be found in war? War is easy! War is a mindless struggle that reduces us to our most basic, primitive instincts. You will find no answers in how we fight, only in why we fight. I fight for survival.”
The Centurian told Trevor, “It is not your fault. You simply cannot see the big picture. You cannot comprehend.”
“I do see the big picture. I see the truth that eludes you even now-even as it stares you in the face!”
The children grew silent yet again. Trevor burned red in frustration.
“You gave me the genetic memories of my race so that I could fight like humanity’s best soldiers and fly like mankind’s pilots and have the skills needed to rally a resistance.”
“Yes,” Alenna concurred. “It seemed a reasonable balance to the surprise and force of the initial onslaught.”
Trevor’s eyes burned into the little girl’s as he asked, “Why can I fly one of the Centurian shuttles then? Why did I understand the Witiko slave device? How come your father knew how to operate a Geryon battleship? I will wager that each recipient of the genetic memories can tell similar stories.”
The Hivvan tried to reason, “We believe the answer may lay in the manner in which the memories were collected.”
The Duass did the same, “It is possible that during their creation the memories were cross-contaminated.”
Trevor dismissed their excuses.
“No. There was no error of collection, only of time. The gift of memories you gave me contains memories from the Centurians and the Witiko because those memories come-they come from the same source.”
Eyes widened. Heads shook.
Alenna spoke in a confused tone, “What do you-what do you suggest? I do not see your meaning.”
Trevor’s fatherly voice explained, “We are not all different races but the same. We have the same genetic structure-all derived from the same basic materials, scattered around the universe.”
The Witiko refused to listen, “Your suggestion is preposterous. The differences in our life patterns is evident.”
The Geryon agreed, “Our social structures and technologies; our physical attributes all point to demonstratively different life forms. I suspect your suggestion to be a jest.”
Trevor forcefully reiterated, “If we are so different, how is it that one planet-Earth-can be perfect for all races? Because we are created from some original source in your original universe and even now that source-call it nature, call it the universe, call it God if you must-but whatever the source, it has built in protections for its children; protections against Voggoth. Protections like the canines for me; and the instincts of my people’s greatest warriors.”
Trevor put his hand first on the shoulder of the Duass, then on the shoulder of the Hivvan. He told them, “You say you evolved beyond merely the physical, then why can you not see beyond it? Because we look different you assume we must be different. Where is the evolved intellect in such short-sightedness? It serves only Voggoth’s interest for you to be so blind.”
The two alien children shrugged off his grip, stepped away, and glared; the suggestion of a common bond disgusted them.
“No. Our patterns are unique.”
“We see existence differently. We have different philosophies.”
“Witness the armies assaulting your planet. The differences are plain to see.”
Trevor shook his head, “The similarities are plain to see. Weapons and tactics; organizational structures. But you have to see past how you look and act. Our DNA may be different but only by the smallest degree. It all comes from an original source.”
The Witiko said, “Pointless speculation. Guesses. Myths. Do not look to him for answers.”
“No. I do not know. But I know that you won’t find those answers at each other’s throats. For the love of God, see this before it is too late! See the trap you have fallen into! See that the enemy is not each other!”
“There is no trap,” The Hivvan corrected. “Only a challenge of our construction. Everything is of our design.”
“A trap! A trap you built for yourselves set by Voggoth! Look at the your so-called challenge. See how you created it. See how well you isolated and contained each race! Eight battles for survival, perfectly crafted so that no one theater would depend on another!”
“Perfectly created,” the Centurian agreed. “Sterile environments allowing each race to be judged independently, so that one result would not depend on another. Until this contamination.”
Trevor cried, “Perfectly created so as to ensure there would be no winner!”
“Liar!”
“Eight different Earths built to ensure eight failures!”
“Quiet!”
“The strongest will survive!”
Trevor roared, “The Red Hands fell but who grew stronger? Voggoth!”
“You cannot understand!”
“Your reasoning is flawed!”
“It is not so simple!”
“Open your eyes! See! How old is Voggoth? How old?”
Trevor grabbed the Duass by both shoulders and nearly shook the child. The boy could not answer. Instead, a voice from across the circle-the voice of Alenna-replied, “He predates all of our races. He may predate the creation of the universes themselves.”
Trevor pulled away from the Duass and leaned over into the eyes of the Hivvan.
“And where does Voggoth live? What animals come from his environment?”
The Hivvan staggered and stumbled, “He comes from the place between the universes. He-he has followers of physical form, animals and organized alike. They worship his greatness. They participate in the challenge with a token force on his behalf.”
Trevor swung about and took two big steps to the Witiko. He grabbed the child’s hands.
“And where did they come from? If he has evolved beyond the physical universe why does he have followers who take physical form? Why are they not put to this same test? Why do they have nothing to lose? Why? Why!”
“They are not life,” came the answer. “They are immortal, like Voggoth.”
Trevor growled, “They are dead. They are his puppets. He cannot evolve and give birth, but through them he extends his armies. He extends his power. He broke your precious rules and brought his forces across time and put them here, in the field, to face what remains of my people. But you say nothing, because he will wipe my people out and that will be one less enemy for you to face; one less participant in this ‘challenge’. But when he finishes here-then it will be your worlds, one by one, that he will overwhelm.”
The Centurian risked Trevor’s wrath as he suggested, “Voggoth’s actions may be the direct result of the contamination here. It is a counter balance to-”
Trevor jumped to the alien, forcing him into silence.
“He has created and unleashed a massive army of war machines. Machines grown from materials of the physical universe-stand-ins to do his dirty work and far more than a token force. How does it serve the challenge if it is Voggoth-and not your armies-that destroy my people? How is that a judge of mankind’s strength?”
“Your defeat is imminent,” the Geryon said in a shaky voice that suggested his own lack of surety. “It was decided in the beginning to sterilize those who lose.”
“That’s not what Voggoth wants! He does not want the losers to be destroyed. If he did, then why didn’t the rules of your challenge allow each race to use their most advanced technologies? Why have you used your collective powers to suppress my people’s nuclear weapons? Why didn’t one of the attacking species use their knowledge to splinter my world with an asteroid or fry my people with mass carnage? Your armies on my world-they all have these weapons at home, don’t they? But they can’t use them!”
The Hivvan tried to explain, “It is a matter of balance.”
Trevor yelled again, “Fools! Voggoth does not want us all destroyed, he wants us beaten and weakened. He wants the survivors for himself!”
The assembled children exchanged a series of glances.
Trevor told them, “Yes, I know what happened to the Feranites. You spoke of sterilizing them, but when the time came of their defeat Voggoth had another suggestion, didn’t he? It sounded oh-so-merciful to you then. But it is what he has planned for all of you.”
“No.”
Trevor remembered The Order at its basic level: “On my Earth, his token force used implants to consume and control living human bodies, warping them into his slaves. Making them into lifeless creatures bent to his rule. Voggoth has not been a silent, passive observer or a token participant. He has been manipulating and guiding this entire war, on all the Earths.”
“You are incorrect.”
“That would contradict what I was promised.”
“You were promised?”
Stone recalled, “It was Voggoth who orchestrated my abduction to another Earth in an attempt to engineer the downfall of my species on this planet and, at the same time, to try and finish off the Chaktaw on their Earth. He gave the humans from Sirius access to the Nyx’s abilities to steal me away.”
He thought of Nina and that first year. He told them, “And it was Voggoth who, in the very beginning, tried to sabotage the survival of humanity by implanting one of my followers and using her to betray me. This was an attempt to lure my race’s survivors to an early and fast transition to The Order’s ranks. How did that serve the challenge? How did that prove or disprove mankind’s worthiness in comparison to other races? It did not. It only attempted to hurry humanity’s ultimate conversion to one of Voggoth’s legions.”
“This suggestion is outrageous.”
“Outrageous?” Trevor nearly cried out. “What has been outrageous has been your complicity in the breaking of these rules! I am certain that some of you standing here know exactly what Voggoth is doing on my Earth, but you don’t protest because he has whispered in your ear that he wants you to win the challenge. He wants you to be the last race standing. And he hasn’t said that to only one of you. He’s probably said it to all of you!”
“Voggoth’s interaction on each of the subject worlds has been limited.”
Trevor continued, “And I’ll bet he told it to the Feranites, too. By the time they were double-crossed, it was too late for them. None of you listened then, because with the Feranites gone, you were one step closer to victory.”
“The human does not know this to be true.”
But Trevor did know it to be true. He recalled the words Anita Nehru had shared from her tomb deep within Red Rock. The final piece; the last truth. The ultimate truth. What she had discovered in that lair of horrors. The answer to the Fermi paradox.
“I ask again-how old is Voggoth? How old are the universes? Why are they so empty?”
“Voggoth,” Alenna repeated the answer provided previously, “is older than the universes. He predates our existence by uncounted millennia. His consciousness existed long before the first sparks of our life. We are the first to come since. Despite our age, we are still young.”
They stared at Trevor. He told them, “No. You are not the first. You are only the most recent. The next-the next victims. Look at the minions of Voggoth-look at the Mutants and the Wraiths. See what waits for you. See what became of all life before you!”
Silence. No reply.
“The universes are empty because the arrogant fools of races long past fell for the same trick. I wonder what words he whispered in their ears that convinced them to hand over their souls? I suspect those words sounded very much like what you’ve heard. It is the only way he reproduces. The only way his power expands. And you-you evolved superior beings-you have taken the bait again. It is not good enough to be so strong and so smart. You have to be the strongest and the smartest. Along the way you have handed your lives over to the darkness.”
Still, no replies.
“It may be too late. Voggoth has grown too powerful. While he himself is not allowed in the physical universe, he has built an army that mimics organic life. It grows. It devours. It infects with parasites, taking over my people and multiplying. Combined with his soulless armies, he is on the march here. Look close and you will see that his ‘token’ force is massive and nearly unstoppable. He will wipe us out and you will stand by and let him do it because we will be one less participant in your challenge. Even now what remains of your forces on my Earth converge to join Voggoth’s army to strike the last blow on humanity. And when he has destroyed my people he will move on to the next Earth, his ranks expanded with some warped version of mankind, circumventing the gates you control by using the Nyx directly-a back door he will exploit against us all. And soon he will no longer need your help to destroy one another. Soon what little reach he has into your universes will be enough. Then, just as he seems ready to do here, he will take over your bodies and swallow your souls!”
“Enough!”
“There is no reason to discuss the matter with one who cannot understand!”
“Fantasies and stories to save his people, nothing more.”
“We are superior. We can see through these fabrications.”
“We must leave! We must take the human surrogate and complete the reunification. No more time should be wasted in senseless discussion.”
Alenna stepped forward.
“Our time here is over. We must consider the effects of this contamination.”
The Duass spoke, “The interaction between your son and Voggoth changed everything. The reunification of our physical bodies and greater essence was reserved only for the victorious race.”
Trevor mumbled, “It is still not too late for you all to be victorious. The strong survive together. Division only serves Voggoth.”
But Trevor had barely the strength to mumble, nothing more. All of it had poured from his body. Exhaustion overtook not only his person but his mind.
The row of children retreated. Alenna hovered for a moment longer. She found Trevor’s eyes, smiled in sympathy for his plight, then followed the rest as they faded into the white light.
The children of the races departed.
Trevor turned his attention to JB.
His son staggered to his feet, having regained some control. The glimmer of light surrounding the area began to contract, forming a ring around the boy.
“I have to leave now.”
Trevor stepped closer but was held at bay by a field of power, like electricity-but not quite-around his son.
The stuffed animal-Bunny-wrapped in a blanket-lay on the dead floor of the temple. Trevor stooped, grabbed hold of the plush toy, and cradled it in his arms. He knew his son would no longer need it.
Trevor said with deep regret, “I know.”
JB tilted his head, blinked, and gazed at his father with curiosity and awe.
“I’m sorry, Father, that things turned out this way. I’m sorry you did not have a normal son, or a normal life.”
Trevor half-smiled and told his child, “It would have been nice to-to watch you grow up. To see you play little league and go to school. To see you meet someone, and start your own family. You’re missing so much of what it means to be human. You’re missing so much of life.”
“That would have been nice. But we all have our roles to play. Our parts. No one knows that better than you, Father.”
The energy began to circle around Jorgie; a growing funnel. Sparks of wondrous colors flickered like a rainbow of camera flashes.
Trevor tried one last time, “You have to tell them, JB. Tell them what life means. Share with them what they have forgotten, what you experienced. Tell them about a mother’s love. Tell them about how hard it is just living; just finding our way.”
Trevor bowed his head under the weight of the world placed on his shoulders. After a moment he blinked his eyes fast to stave off the sad, and honestly told his son, “I’m going to miss you.”
“Father, you have done your best-you always did what you thought was right. I know-I know what it has done to you. It has made you wonder what you’re really capable of. You wonder if you’re a hero or a monster. Maybe the difference between the two is not as great as it may have once seemed. But you need to know-for all you did-for everything you had to do-you are forgiven.”
Trevor swallowed hard. His legs wobbled. The energy field sped faster and faster. JB’s face faded in the light. Trevor fell to a knee. The tears of a lifetime swept down his cheeks.
You are forgiven.
A wind born from the circle of power swept through the chamber.
The boy disappeared in the flood of light. That flood rose toward the ceiling and expanded. The energy pushed against Voggoth’s walls and those walls crumbled.
Trevor wiped a hand across his face and watched the beam push through the ceiling and erupt into the night sky. He clutched the stuffed animal as tight as Jorgie ever had.
Debris fell, first small shards followed by larger chunks. The chamber grew unstable.
Trevor retreated a step, then two, then turned and jogged away.
The light faded, leaving behind a collapsing, empty shell of a building.
The fall of the temple accelerated as Trevor stooped and pushed through the hole in the front door. As he jumped down the stairs, the side walls collapsed inward and the twisted spires shriveled and fell into the growing pile of ruin. The boil-like smaller buildings withered.
Trevor stopped a few yards from the collapsing temple and took stock of the battlefield. Things had changed drastically since he had entered the building.
Bodies-of monsters and men-coated the black plain, in some places piled high like small mountains. Patches of fire burned here and there, primarily from the remains of motorcycles and vehicles although he also saw some giant snail-shell totally engulfed in flames.
He did his best to avoid stepping on bodies, but found that difficult. Some of those bodies still twitched and moaned; not all of them belonging to humans, either. Even when he managed to avoid stepping on a corpse his boots still slipped on the tools of battle: shell casings by the thousands; bits of shrapnel; shriveled tentacles and broken spears.
A tremendous shudder caused the ground to quake. Trevor spun his head around and watched the last standing temple wall fall. Sparks of arcane power danced along the edges of the pile, but the temple of Voggoth existed no more.
He shot his eyes to the sky and thought he glimpsed a sparkle of energy that might be the remains of his boy traveling off into the heavens. But Trevor quickly realized that he did not see energy but, rather, a star. An honest-to-god star: the thick cloud cover dissipated. No lightning remained.
Boom.
He traced the source of the explosion to the northern end of the plain. There he saw a ring of iron-tanks and armored personnel carriers-tightening like a noose around a band of Voggoth’s monsters. Motorcycle cavalry circled the force like vultures waiting to dive in for easy pickings while squads of infantry-mainly Russian-filled the gaps between taking pot shots with rifles and tossing the occasional grenade. Above it all circled the Eurocopter adding its firepower to the mix.
Trevor allowed himself a sigh of relief. The ark-riding soldiers had turned the tide. Jorgie had fulfilled the time loop first begun eleven years ago and now complete. But in the end, what had he accomplished? A battle won. But the war lost.
Trevor’s sigh of relief morphed into a heavy pang in his heart. He had made the journey across the ocean, fought all the way from France to the Ural Mountains, banished Voggoth from Earth, and forced a confrontation with the powers of Armageddon. All that he could possibly have hoped for. Yet victory eluded his grasp.
A swarm of motorcycles worked around the bodies and drove to Trevor with a Renault Sherpa amidst the formation, squishing and crunching over the dead as it approached. The group halted as their headlights fell upon Trevor Stone.
Alexander bound from the vehicle with a smile from ear to ear. Armand jumped from his Ducati with an equally pleased expression.
“You did it, Trevor!” Alexander celebrated. “We have won the battle.”
Armand joined in, “It was you or JB who sent the Russians, yes?”
Trevor nodded his head, slowly.
“I could not believe it,” Alexander admitted. “I was ready to pull our forces away. We were being defeated. They just kept coming. And then the soldiers came. It made all the difference, Trevor. We won the day.”
The two stood there, beaming, with their chests heaving in and out with both excitement and exhaustion. Trevor, however, did not return their enthusiasm. He stood still, his head bowed.
Their smiles faded.
Alexander: “Where is your son?”
“He is gone.”
“I am sorry, Trevor,” Alexander consoled.
Armand, meanwhile, sensed more awry.
“Trevor, tell us, what happened? What did you accomplish?”
He raised his head.
“I accomplished nothing,” he told them. “They wouldn’t listen.”