Chapter -43-
The Revenge of James McCloud
'Out of this Dimension…'
James McCloud stood up from a comfortable chair behind a beautiful antique mahogany desk with chestnut highlights. He came from around his desk and extended a paw to an approaching mouse. In a warm tone, James greeted the man. "Desslar Coba. By the goddess, Lylat, look at you. You barely look fifty, do you even age?!"
Desslar took James' paw and shook it firmly. "Admiral…" He was quick to notice James wearing dark sunglasses.
James laugh and relinquished the handshake to give Desslar a masculine hug. "Admiral, huh? Being the only two Cornerians in this entire dimension, you have some leeway with formality, you know. Didn't you retire from the military?"
"I, uh … I did. Some time ago. Private sector … Vice President of a security firm. That position led to an advisory role for the leadership's transportation service, which I've been doing for the past five years. I advise on escort details, on the science of reconnaissance ahead of heading into any area with attached leadership … and, to be honest, I love this job. Probably too much. I'll likely work until I'm too old to get out of bed."
"You see the leadership often?" James stepped back from the hug.
"Yes. Probably not as often as you … I mean, you know, since your position requires you to report to them. But, yeah, they know who I am – they know I helped you design a template for their first military a few generations back."
James nodded with a smile. "Yeah … to think, when we first arrived, these people had no military. Can you imagine becoming a space-faring race with no concept of violence? They were completely unprepared to protect themselves from the dangers of the universe. You and I? We made a damned good team when we arrived all those years ago."
"If you think about it, you and I arrived just in time to save these people. It's almost hard to believe they had no way to protect themselves from those damned bugs. But they learned quickly."
James chuckled softly, smiling at the fond memories from several decades ago. "I'm just glad their language was fairly easy to learn."
Desslar feigned a smile. "Speaking of language, it's really good to hear Cornerian again. Been too long since I've heard it."
"So, what brings you here?"
"On to business. I'm here because, as you know, I have an unhealthy habit…"
With a chuckle, James clasped Desslar's shoulders, then gave the man's biceps a firm pat before retiring to the chair behind his desk. "Have a seat, Dess. I know all about your hobby, son. You like to monitor transmission bursts that come from a subspace relay over in Lylat."
"Right, a subspace relay near the gateway here, where the fabric of spacetime is thin. Or, well, something like that."
James nodded firmly. "As I understand it, data bursts come through the event horizon in a compressed format. You figured out how to get that information uncompressed and decrypted with computer technology here."
"Well, uh, yes … you remembered…"
"Remembered?!" James laughed. "That's the understatement of the century." He turned to a carafe of a caramel-colored liquid and poured two glass tumblers. McCloud swiveled back to Desslar and placed one glass in front of the mouse. "Sit down and have yourself a drink, son. It's been … what? Six years since I last saw you? How is your wife?"
"Riechuler is doing well. Um, time is, uh, actually, uh, of the essence on this one, and it took cutting through a lot of tape to talk to you, being as that you're so high up in the military. But, yeah, about my habit, Admiral, sir…"
"It's not a habit, it's a hobby. And I respect it, Dess. I know it's been years since we last saw one another, but … c'mon, we're the only two Cornerians in an entire dimension that's completely unlike anything back home. We're brothers, here. Always have been."
"I … I appreciate hearing that, to be honest."
James reached up and used a single finger to adjust his sunshades. "You told me about my son's approach to Venom, back during the Lylat Wars. You warned me about when the Aparoids injured John Pepper. You brought me news of the Anglars…"
"And I was the bearer of bad news almost seven years ago…"
"Well, yeah, but still … you're family, Dess. I know there's a lot of bullshit red tape just to talk to me, but I can make it so we can meet at my home if you ever need to talk. I can arrange it so you can reach me more easily. I know this race doesn't have personal communicators like we used back in Lylat, nor do they have the infrastructure to make personal communication, but they emit quantum-spectrum brainwaves, so they can communicate with one another from anywhere. It makes the need for communicators unnecessary for their kind."
"Sir…"
"Please, Dess! You're making things awkward! You and I will always be on a first name basis. Especially in the privacy of my office."
"All right, noted. Look…" Desslar took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "I'm sorry, I was a lot less socially awkward in my youth. I don't know what happened. War, I guess."
"Okay, I'm sorry, Dess. I'm used to social politics; I know you said time was of the essence. Go ahead, Dess. But, just remember, you and I will always be on a first name basis."
"All right, noted," Desslar repeated. "Okay, so, Jim, listen, it's Andross. He's back. He's alive."
James dropped into his seat and reached for his gentleman's brandy. He intended to take a sip but drank the entire tumbler down. He exhaled and leaned back in his chair. "Andross…"
"I picked up, of all things, a data packet from a new Great Fox ship back home. However, it's not the one you bought all those years ago…"
"Right. As I recall, you said the original Great Fox was flown into the Aparoid home world and used to destroy the planet's mechanical core somehow…"
"Right. Um, yeah. That was … a long time ago. You remember that stuff really well."
James turned his chair back to the carafe and poured himself three-fingers full. "Dess, I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone."
"I'm listening, Jim."
"When you told me about Fox going after Andross … when you told me about the Aparoids, and when you told me about the Anglars … I took the tarp off my old M-Scouter Arwing and had it modified. I went to Lylat…"
"Wait, you figured out how to get home?!" Desslar abruptly lowered his voice. "Sorry, Jim, it's just…"
"I never told you because I quickly learned that I couldn't stay. You see, there's something about this dimension that has had a profound impact on our genome and, in fact, our very molecules."
"But you went home…?"
"Briefly each time, but yes. And, believe me, I had the military's top scientists try to understand how it all works. How my body has changed since arriving in this dimension. I underwent a mountain of scientific studies so they could try and figure out how to fix the issue. The bottom line? We can't go home, Dess, or we'll die. I barely survived a few hours in our home dimension."
Desslar grimaced. "I … had no idea."
"Yeah. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to get your hopes up. I'm sorry. But, yes, the reason I remember every briefing you gave me is because I made use of that information by going home to help Fox. I learned just how dangerous it is to push myself into staying for more than a few hours…"
"How so?"
"When I went back to our dimension during the Aparoid invasion, I planned to attack the Aparoid Queen after hearing from you that John Pepper was injured, and that their kind was trying to transform people into computer-enslaved worker drones. But halfway into my fight with the Aparoid Queen, I had to bail and return here, because my body couldn't handle staying in that dimension for an extended amount of time."
"You tried fighting her alone?"
"I did, and I was doing well against her at first. But she knew something was wrong. She could tell by scanning me, and as I retreated, the bitch told me that she was going to use my likeness to trick my son to his death, but there was nothing I could do about it. My body was going into shock. By the time I made it back to this dimension, I was on my deathbed. It took their best scientists to perform extensive genome coding repair … I probably should have died. I was lucky."
"I … had no idea."
James folded his hands. "You remember when I laughed hysterically and hugged you after you told me that you learned how Fox survived his battle with the Aparoid Queen?"
"Yes. It was awkward at first, but that's just my social anxieties that came with my old age."
"Desslar, what happened to you during your time as a POW?"
"Let's … not talk about that. I'd rather talk about literally anything else."
James nodded. "All right. I can respect that. Well, back to me hugging you, back when you told me that Fox destroyed that psychotic cyber-Krazoan bitch. Anyway, that's the reason I hugged you when you told me that he and his team survived. I was worried she would trick him with my likeness. I was worried that she was going to kill him."
"I see, now. That makes sense. I originally thought, 'man, James, you need more faith in your son's abilities.' I didn't know she mocked you, and said she planned to trick your boy after scanning you." Desslar cleared his throat, and added, "So, back to that time sensitive issue…"
"Right, right. I got so caught up in, well, catching up with you. Sorry. So, Andross is still alive, huh? Good god, that man must be a centenarian by now. My grandson won't have any trouble killing him for what he did to my son."
Desslar took a sip of the caramel-colored liquid courage. He held the glass between his palms, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
"What's on your mind, Dess. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Not a ghost, no. I, uh … I have good news and bad news."
"Bad news first."
"Right, uh, so … Andross sent two broadcasts from Venom. My monitoring equipment managed to record both. One broadcast was public – he announced his return to save Venom from a Krazoan woman named Anezka Vacek. And the other broadcast, well, uh … Andross appears to be working with your grandson."
James replied with a sour face. "Oh. Hmm. That's … you're right, Dess, that is bad news, all right. Good goddess, what would Star see in that psychopath?"
"Oh, right, that reminds me … your grandson changed his name to Marcus. I traced back old subspace data packets my computer had recorded. It took a little digging, but I learned that there was a Cornerian news article from about a year ago … an interview … claiming that he hated his given name and wanted to honor his maternal grandfather, Marcus of Cerinia … never heard of Cerinia, but it's apparently where your daughter-in-law is from."
"I remember you saying she was said to have blue fur … you're telling me it's not a dye-job; she's an alien?"
"Yeah. She's from a planet called Cerinia. Andross is said to have doomed the system, leaving her as the last survivor of her race, but there are all these scientific studies from when she first arrived in Lylat … because as it turns out, her race is genetically compatible with our race. Anyhow, yeah, where was I?"
"Marcus McCloud is working with Andross." James made a sour face at the mere thought of his grandson working with his wife's murderer. He sighed softly, took a sip from his tumbler, and said, "I'll have to see if I can find some way to reach out to Marcus and talk some sense into him. I don't know how I'd pull that off, but I'll see what I can do to try and find a way."
"Things are actually a lot more complicated than that. There's a lot of information I have sorted through on this most recent transmission packet."
"Go on, Dess."
"Jim, I have some good news and I have really good news. But first, you should know about the second transmission Andross sent from Venom … yes, he's working with Marcus McCloud, but … he didn't hire the boy's team as mercenaries. It's the other way around."
"How do you mean?"
"I've decrypted part of the private broadcast file so far, but what I learned from it is that Andross seems to be working for Marcus."
James blinked. He took another sip from his refreshed glass. "Okay, wasn't expecting that."
"Yeah. They're united in preparing for a fight against, get this, The Locusts."
James' eyes widened. "The Locusts?"
"Apparently, the four-or-so million that you and I fought with the help of our new friends … well, it's believed that those Locusts came through to this dimension the same way you and I came here … but accident. But two thousand years earlier. And their population had swelled to about four million at the time they attacked this system. But back home? There are more."
"You know, I just remembered something I hadn't thought about in decades. A Cornerian intel briefing…"
Desslar tilted his head.
"Andross, when he got to Venom, he apparently learned about 'an ancient race of aliens that devour entire races of people.' He was obsessed, and claimed Corneria had to enter into a peace treaty with Venom in order to prepare Lylat fight the approaching alien invaders together. This was before the Lylat Wars, but after he became Venom's leader. John and I figured Andross was just crazy, trying to undo his banishment, but … you're saying The Locusts you and I fought, together, when we first arrived here … they came from our dimension first?"
"Yes. A handful of them arrived here two thousand years ago, when they last attacked Lylat and were repelled by … some ancient aliens."
"The Krazoa," said James with a firm nod."
"Okay, if you say so. Anyway, the Locusts apparently just returned to Lylat. Your grandson figured out how to talk to them, and he managed to talk them into some sort of détente, but it's not expected to last very long."
"All right, so is that the good news?"
"No, uh, sorry I got sidetracked with our conversation. The good news is…" Desslar took another sip from the brandy. He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "Fox and his team are alive."
James clapped his paws together and laughed. "Alive?! I thought they were killed by Andross seven years ago?"
"Yeah. Andross was testing some sort of device that was originally thought to be a gravity bomb, but it was actually a catapult capable of piercing the multi-verse. Apparently the device sends a group to an adjacent universe. But it's a mirror universe within their dimension. Fox's team managed to figure out how to return home, which … apparently … Andross was counting on, so he could figure out how to 'aim' the catapult device with the trajectory data recorded by Fox's ship upon its return. Andross' plan was to use a chain of these devices to send the Locusts to a specific universe in the home dimension, which would trap the Locusts for a while, because it's a dead universe, theorized by Andross to be where their kind already devoured everything, including one another, and there's nothing left there."
"God, that ape is insane."
"Yeah. But it worked, Fox and company came back. Everyone survived. Um. I know my last time talking to you was about seven years ago, when I learned that Peppy Hare died…"
"Yeah. And, come to think of it, Dess, I never returned the favor. You said you came to offer your condolences that day. But I seem to remember that you once met him by chance. So, you knew him too…"
"Not as well as you, Jim. Anyhow, there's one more bit of good news. Marcus McCloud has a son … very young. So … you're now a great-grandfather. Congratulations. The boy's name is James McCloud."
James sat back in his seat with a gleaming smile. "James McCloud. Now, there's a name I can respect. A masculine name. Rugged."
Desslar chuckled. He finished his brandy, set the tumbler down on a desk coaster, and leaned back in his chair. "Jim, Andross is back to his old tricks, near as I can tell. I don't know how involved Marcus is in Andross' plot, but … what I can tell so far is that Andross is taking over Venom again, and trying to rally them against the Locusts. Are you going back to Lylat to help? If so, take me with you."
"Dess, my last visit, during the Anglar occupation, was pretty hard on me. I could only stay for one battle. It was about as difficult as when I went to confront the Aparoid Queen, I didn't even stay as long that time. My point is, that was, what, twenty-five years ago, give or take? I can't do that anymore. I'm too old. My body can't handle it."
Desslar frowned.
"But, look Dess, I'll find a way to get word to my grandson, and warn him about what kind of person Andross is."
"We can't send transmissions through. The flow is from their dimension into ours. I've tried sending data back across the gateway for three decades. That's why I was surprised, a moment ago, when you said you went there."
"There's a way, trust me. But it's dangerous. And now, I can't even do that … it would kill us, Desslar."
"How are you going to get word to them?"
"I … suppose the truth is … I can't. Like you said, data only carries in the direction of the interstellar current, so to speak."
"We need to warn them. We need to send them data on how we destroyed the Locusts, so they can fight for their lives."
James grew silent.
After a moment, Dess said, "What's on your mind, Jim?"
James lowered his sunshades. His eyes glowed with an ethereal purple hue.
Desslar's eyes widened. "What the … hell?"
"Why do you think I wear them everywhere?"
Desslar blinked several times, staring at McCloud's glowing purple eyes. "What … the hell is wrong with your eyes?"
"Yeah. Uh … bottom line? It's low-level radiation. It glows because of the way it's filtered through basal tears, and that's what creates this glow."
"Oh. You, uh … you emit radiation?"
"Yeah. I do. It's very low-level radiation, and it's safe. I was possessed by a spirit of aliens called the Krazoa after I escaped Andross and crash-landed on the purple planet with no name."
"Oh, right. There are two dinosaur planets in Lylat … Fortuna, where they're feral and the Monarch Dodora lives … and the purple one you mentioned. It's called Sauria, now. Actually, your son charted it with Peppy."
James laughed. "I should've guessed. Well, when I took on the Krazoa spirit, his energy caused my eyes to glow with a radiation reaction that's similar to how a reactor can make its coolant water glow blue. But, yeah, through basal tears and eyeball fluid, it looks purple. And that's why I always wear my sunglasses, so no one would see my eyes."
"So, to recap … you're … possessed by an ancient alien … from a long-forgotten race from, uh, Lylat in antiquity?"
James lifted his paws defensively in playful regard. "Okay, okay … I admit, it sounds silly when I hear it said back to me, but … yes. I am. Have been since I escaped Venom. I set down on … you called it Sauria, right? Anyway, I saw a giant stone palace and my sensors couldn't penetrate it due to an enormous energy output coming from the building. I landed, covered my fighter in palm fronds, headed into the building, and kept an eye on the skies until I was convinced that I escaped from Venom's forces. I became acquainted with the Krazoa while I was there. During that week, I lived on whatever I could find … giant black beetles that the locals used as currency, oh, and I cooked some white and blue mushrooms over campfires … which … I've never told anyone this, but … those mushrooms? Yeah … freakishly … they were able to unroot and hop away. It was freaky. Then I discovered where small animals were holed up, and lived on fire-cooked meat. Anyway, it was rough."
"Damn, James, that does sound rough."
"I did all right. I'm here, aren't I? Heh. Anyway, once I discovered the Krazoa spirits, and once I was possessed by one, I tried to take it up to the top of the ancient palace to deposit it into a portal of some sort, but when I got up there, the portal was closed. The spirit made some sort of telepathic contact with me at that point, and that's when I learned about its past. The Krazoa were extremely peaceful, but also extremely advanced. Their technology was so advanced, it felt like magic compared to our tech. They had teleportation abilities and … so much more. I learned that the spirit I picked up … it was a warrior tasked with repelling the Locusts over two thousand years ago. We had a lot in common, including the fact we both lost a spouse long before we should have. Years later, while I was already here, and after I used his help in defeating the Locusts in this dimension, the Krazoan spirit allowed me to talk to my wife, because he had some sort of connection to the spirit realm. It was decades ago, when Fox and his wife communed with them on Sauria, from that palace I mentioned. It was 'Sauria,' right?"
"Yes. It's where the lizards of Venom apparently came from. At least according to some of the data packets I've downloaded from the Cornerian subspace internet. They now have a free encyclopedia that is paid for by donations, and I've downloaded a lot from that, when users in the area of that subspace relay requested info packets. It's not up to me what I get to download, sometimes. But over the years, I've downloaded quite a lot of interesting stuff that people searched for from nearby that node. Anyway, the lizards left Sauria a long time ago, and settled on Venom."
"I don't think they all left, because I saw some upstanding lizard men who walked and talked, same as Venom lizards, but they seemed disinterested in me once their group leader, an epic brute of a woman, decided I wasn't a threat to her. Anyhow, back on topic. So earlier, I told you I would come up with a plan to reach out to someone in Lylat…"
"Yeah? You get an idea, Jim?"
"Actually, now that I've finally removed the shades for someone for the first time in … forever … I can be honest. It's not me; the Krazoa spirit has an idea."
Desslar blinked. "So, even without a physical brain to make connections of physical neurons, it has its own ideas, which are independent of your own ideas?"
"Yeah. That's the gist of it."
Desslar rubbed his jaw in thought. "Okay, I'm going to need more brandy for this."
James took both empty tumblers, turned around, filled them with four fingers worth of liquor, handed one to Desslar, a took a sip from his own.
"Okay, so what's your, uh, spirit pal's grand idea?"
"To go home to Lylat."
Desslar brought his free paw up and covered his face. "Really?"
"Hear me out, Dess. This Krazoa has seen more than both of our lifetimes, combined. His kind defeated the Locusts apparently more than once. The ancient Krazoa repelled them, and the anatomically modern Krazoa repelled them before leaving Lylat and settling on a distant planet in another system. Now, combine that knowledge with the fact that you and I made a career, in this dimension defeating a small group of them that threatened to devour our new alien hosts, just a year after you arrived and joined me in this hell-hole dimension."
"Uh, Jim, the group we destroyed, here in 'hell-hole' dimension … that wasn't what I'd call a small group. They were four million strong. However, just to be clear, I learned that the group back home? Yeah, they number in the billions."
James frowned. "Damn. That's … a lot of bugs."
"Yeah. It is. So the plan is for your spirit to leave you, after all this time, and go home, huh?"
"Apparently, without weighted mass, it will have a decent chance of traversing the gateway back home … the one I used to travel back to Lylat … which, for the record, was a manner of travel that the Krazoa spirit knew about. I wasn't clever enough to figure it out on my own, you know? Moving on, the spirit carries all my knowledge, memories, and experiences, combined with its own from when it was physically alive, over two thousand years ago. It also carries a large, networked knowledge of Krazoa-kind."
"You mean … knowledge of how to fight the Locusts successfully."
"Exactly. That knowledge has to get home to Lylat, where it will be used to help defeat the Locusts there. After all these years, it's ready to part ways with me. Who am I to hold it hostage?"
"You're taking it in stride."
"How do you mean, Dess?"
"If you've really been … uh … cojoined with a sentient energy that possesses a wealth of knowledge and intellect, then for it to just … leave you all of a sudden … it'll feel like a rejection. Like being broadsided by a wife that, out of the blue, says she wants a divorce. You'll blame yourself, you'll be lonely, you'll be angry, you'll mourn the relationship and go through all the levels of mourning involved in loss, because they'll be gone from you, you know?"
James frowned. "Maybe I'm just agreeing with this plan up front because I see their logic in it?"
"I mean, yeah, maybe."
"You're a smart cookie, Dess. But I see the spirit's perspective on this. The Locusts had an enormous impact on their kind. This spirit wants nothing more than to see the Locust threat end once and for all. I can feel his frustration…"
"Frustration? From what? And … did you just call me a cookie?"
James replied with a slight smirk but remained on topic. "Apparently, this particular Krazoan felt the smartest way to handle them was to wipe them out, but he was overruled by others of his kind, who felt it was best not to deviate from their peaceful way of living, so, instead, Krazoa-kind repelled the Locusts instead of destroying the threat once and for all. My Krazoa Spirit? He argued with a court of his peers for the genocide of the Locust race, but he was overruled. He was frustrated that his kind spared such an invasive parasite species, capable of endangering or destroying other alien lives around the cosmos."
"Oh, so he wants to go back to Lylat to wage war, and he knows you can't survive there. This … uh … spirit wants to finish the Locusts for good, is that basically the gist?"
"Exactly."
"Are you going to send him to your grandson?"
James shook his head. "No. You remember how I told you a few minutes ago that this Krazoa spirit has access to the networked memories and collective consciousness of his kind?"
"Yeah? What about it?"
"Well, Dess, back around the time that Fox and Peppy charted Sauria, my spirit pal had 'friends' he knew in his lifetime … friends that Andross tried to use to heal himself when he was on the brink of death. Those Krazoa spirits rejected Andross because he wasn't pure of heart, and he did some experimenting. Andross found a way to force Krazoa spirits into a war mongering general of the lizard people I mentioned … and the way my spirit is remembering the networked thoughts of his kind … Andross tried to corrupt a group of spirits and weaponize them. My spirit heard you when you said Andross is back. He is ready to finish what he started against the Locusts; I'm getting the feeling that my spirit wants to return to Lylat to fight the Locusts, but he has an ulterior motive: he wants to somehow … well … torture Andross."
"How would a spirit torture Andross? Haunt him?"
"No, I … I am pretty sure the spirit means to possess Andross. Unwillingly."
Dess stared at James in silence.
"The way I understand it, when Krazoa spirits are networked together, they experience each other's memories. So my Krazoa spirit wants vengeance on Andross and vengeance on the Locusts who only survived because the Krazoa people spared the Locusts, allowing the creatures to destroy entire civilizations. My spirit feels that with great ability comes great, well, responsibility. He believes the end of his kind was a celestial sort of karma for not taking on the responsibility of stopping the Locusts long ago."
Dess took a drink from his brandy while processing what he had just been told. He set the tumbler down on its coaster, cleared his throat, and quietly said, "That got … really … really dark. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea of you being possessed for all these years."
James brought his glass to his lips, snapped his head back, shot-gunning the entire contents of his drink, set the glass down with a soft sigh, and then he stood up and walked around his desk, behind Desslar's chair.
Desslar turned around, watching Jim. "What … are you about to do, Jim? You've got this very business look on your face."
"I'm releasing him. He's … apparently ready."
"Right now?"
"I … I think so. I feel like I'm about to throw up or something. Stay back, Dess."
Desslar pursed his lips, keeping his distance.
James dropped to all fours with a painful grunt, then rose up onto one knee. He opened his arms wide, closed his eyes, opened his muzzle a bit, and tensed up.
An enormous being of immense light emerged from James McCloud.
Desslar Coba's eyes widened. "Holy shit…"
Lengthy tendrils of light followed the head-shaped spirit from James' body, floating about like locks of hair, almost. The spirit continued to move away from James, taking up the entire center of the room. It rotated about, until it was facing McCloud.
James dropped back to his paws, panting hoarsely. After a moment to compose himself, he slowly tried to get back to his feet.
Desslar hurried over to James' side, taking him beneath the right arm. "I got you, Jim."
"Thanks, Dess…" James sounded winded.
"Okay," Desslar replied. A weak smile tugged at the mouse's muzzle before adding, "I definitely believe you, now."
James replied with a dry chuckle, allowing his friend to help him up the rest of the way. "Didn't before, huh?"
"I didn't know what the hell to think, Jim."
James reached up and wiped the glistening sheen of sweat that beaded up on the fur of his forehead. "By the goddess Lylat, my back and my hip feel like I've been kicked down a flight of steps."
"My apologies," replied the spirit. Its voice was dual-toned in the most haunting way … a warm tenor voice with a layer of whisper-speak overtop, as if speaking in two voices at the same time. "I have concealed your aging body pains for so long that this is the first time you've ever experienced them. It will become tolerable in time, once you get used to knowing the pain is there."
James grimaced. "You made it so I couldn't feel pain?"
"Yes," the spirit replied.
"Concise," Desslar mused. "Well, that was nice of him. I could use that on days that it rains."
James put part of his weight against Desslar's shoulder. "You've come out of your shell in the last few minutes, huh, Dess?"
"I just witnessed you being vulnerable for the first time, Jim. I've always been nervous around you … ever since we met. You were a shining beacon of charisma and machismo. This is the first time I've seen you show some vulnerability. It's easier to be the real me now that I get to see the real you."
James used a free paw to rub his face. "You psychoanalyzed yourself that quickly?"
"I did it a long time ago. I've always felt kind of silly in your presence. Berated myself a bit. Ladies fawn over you, have since I've met you. You've always felt like a tower of a man, standing beside me. Not because you're taller than me, but because you're smarter than me, more of a jock than me, more of a nerd than me … I never felt like I could compete. But now I see it was just … the entire knowledge of a long-lost culture taking up space in your skull."
James laughed in a husky tone, still trying to recover from being a bit winded. "Jeeze Laweeze, Dess, after all these years, why didn't you just say something? We've known each other … how long? Forty years? Longer? I mean … you're the one who is married, here."
"I mean … yeah, when you put it like that. But I've always felt small in the same room as you. Until now."
"Heh, why, because I'm half the man I used to be?"
"No, Jim, it's because I finally got to see you vulnerable. Normal. Real. You stumbled like a real man." Desslar looked back to the spirit. "You really want to haunt Andross?"
The large glowing face replied calmly in that haunting voice. "I wish to show him the error of his ways. His faults. He lacks empathy, so I will drown him in empathy."
Desslar brought a paw to his mouth. "Oh…!"
James looked up, still slouched on Desslar's arm. "Oh?"
Desslar replied with a firm nod. "Yeah, as in … oh, damn. What I would give to see the look on Andross' stupid face." The mouse cut his gaze back to the floating incorporeal floating head. "Okay, so uh, how do we get you back to Lylat?"
The spirit turned its eyeless gaze to James. "Fetch your sunglasses, James McCloud. We will require the use of your rank, a ship, and a trans-dimensional portal to beam me into the gateway through the umbra between dimensions. It functions similar to the umbra that connects the multi-verse, and I can navigate it to return home."
Desslar rubbed his face. "How can you home in on Lylat in a different dimension?"
"I am quantum entangled to my race through the memory network we share. I will use that entanglement as a beacon to make my way home."
James exhaled. "All right. Let's get started. So, you need my body for a bit longer?"
"Indeed, I do."
James nodded. "You have my permission."
"And you have my gratitude, James McCloud. I will find a way to send a message to your son." When the Krazoa spoke, the whisper-like layer of his tone came a split second before the vocalized layer, making the spirit sound otherworldly in the most haunting way.
"Thank you, my friend." James approached the spirit, arms outstretched. "All right, let's get this show on the road."
The spirit replied, "As you wish, James McCloud."
X
X
Twelve hours later…
James McCloud placed his paws against the bulkhead of an enormous ship. It creaked softly, shifting and moving, like a Cornerian Whale beneath the brine, but many times larger.
He gazed out into the dark void from a large square window, followed by a soft exhale. He could see his reflection in the glossy surface. He peered over the top of his sunshades. His eyes glowed with a soft purple hue, as they had for several decades.
"Admiral?"
James pushed back from the window, reached up and adjusted his sunglasses with his thumb, and turned to the voice of the approaching crewman. James smiled, seeing it was one of the aliens he came to know for a rather long time. "Maylin, what can I do for you?"
Even after multiple decades living amongst these aliens, there was really no way to describe Maylin's race, except to say they were sleek and muscular like a dolphin, yet somehow canid like a Cornerian war dog, but … fluffier. Overly fluffy. To the point it was difficult to take them seriously at times, especially during combat in the past, when James and Desslar Coba helped to rapidly transform their culture to fight against the Locust invaders.
Maylin cleared his throat.
James frowned, being pulled from his reverie. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to zone out. Lack of sleep, you know? That, and I'm getting old."
"What brings us out here, brother?" asked the alien man. "That's … the correct word of your people's tongue, isn't it?"
James replied with a firm nod. "It is. Although, technically, we would be brother-in-law. I married your sister, so, in my dimension, on my home world, the legal term would be an 'in-law.' Brothers by the law of marriage, but not by birth. I'm honestly surprised you still consider me to be your brother after all these decades."
"You have been through so much, James. But that? That was so, so very long ago."
James exhaled with a shake of his head. "Still, sometimes I feel like I killed your sister, Maylin."
"You know I don't hold any of that against you, right?"
James turned back to the window. "Your sister would still be alive if I'd never come to this dimension."
"And my race would be dead if you never came to this dimension. And we wouldn't have brokered peace with the aquatics. And our militaries wouldn't have merged…"
"Yeah, but I could have stayed lonely, and she would still be alive."
"James, it isn't your fault she died in labor. It isn't your fault the kit didn't survive. That was … years ago. What has you thinking of that, now?"
"I … I don't know. I've been thinking about the past. It comes with age."
"It's a shame your race only lives such a short lifespan."
"To be honest, I did the math not too long ago … and in my dimension, I'd be in my mid-to-late eighties by now." James cleared his throat. He'd found this alien race to be one of the most empathetic, the most kind, and the most peaceful species ever. It took hard work to teach them the ways of military, strategy, war, and how to protect themselves. Again, James cleared his throat, and then he asked, "What can I do for you, Maylin?"
"What are we doing out here?"
"Oh, right. Sorry. You already asked that. Well, to be honest, I'm sending a message home to my people. I've learned that they are about to engage the Locusts. Your people are long-lived … two hundred revolutions is a long, long life. And your kind adapted very well to fight off the four million Locusts that had been in this dimension for, roughly, the past two millennia. But I've learned that my people will soon be fighting several billion Locusts. And they have no experience with such an enemy. So, I'm sending a message back home that will give my people a fighting chance."
"What … will the message say?"
"It's knowledge on how to fight the Locusts; how to beat them. Everything I know and more."
"Does the leadership know you're using a ship to send your message, or did you tell them you're checking out some sort of abnormality seen on long range sensors?"
James grinned brightly. "You remember when I made that excuse before going home for a few hours, huh?"
"You came back nearly dead. After losing my sister, I was scared to lose a brother, too."
James clasped the man's shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze, and said, "I simply asked for a ship. This one was the closest to the gateway, so I came here to plant my flag and carry out sending my message. I guess rank has its privileges, because there was no demand for an explanation."
"The device you asked to have assembled … it's in the hanger. Built to your specifications, exactly. It's operational. What does it do?"
James feigned a grin. He really didn't want to lose the Krazoa Spirit, but he focused on trying to be empathetic like his alien hosts, and was willing to go along with it. "It sends the message, Maylin."
"You sound … unhappy."
"What do you know about quantium theory, Maylin?"
"Nothing what-so-ever."
"All right, well, suffice to say, that the only way I can send this message through the gateway is to send a figurative … yet … also very literal piece of myself. And this will be…" James thought back to how Desslar worded it the night before. "…It will leave me feeling very … vulnerable."
"Ah. You want privacy on the hanger."
"Yes, please."
"Say no more. I'm headed to the bridge to report to my shift. I'll be monitoring your vitals while I'm there. You'll have your privacy. We're closing on the destination you provided to the skipper."
"Thanks, brother." James smiled in a tired way. He hadn't slept at all since before meeting up with Desslar Coba, and now his body was exhausted. But there had been no time to sleep. He could sleep later, once the Krazoa spirit was safely back in Lylat. James saluted to Maylin, the overly fluffy dolphin dog creature, whose sister he had briefly married … and he headed for a nearby lift.
The elevator ride was uneventful, giving him a moment to ponder what life would be like once he lost the Krazoa spirit for good.
The lift doors opened with a shuk-shuk sound.
James stepped out onto the hanger.
A large circular device was erected in the middle of the otherwise empty hanger.
James walked out to the large portal-like device, took a deep breath, and said, "Now what?"
The Krazoa spirit in his body replied with an ethereal voice. "Stand on the platform in the halo ring. I will do the rest…"
"God, this part hurts. All right … here we go. And when you see that son of a bitch, you give him hell."
"I will remember you fondly, always, James McCloud. Thank you for sharing half of your life with me … friend."
X
X
Meanwhile,
In the Lylat System,
Shrey-Lek, Venom… EditpointKit
"Cacique Doctor Andross of house Bowman, sagamore of clan Oikonny, sachem of the Oikonny Tribe." Andross' voice bellowed with resonance and power. He remained stoic in front of a large metallic door.
Garrick cut his gaze to Andross and said, "If the computer analyzes your genetic imprint, why does it also need your voice print?"
"Because, Mr. Garrick, I programmed the database to open for a voice of confident … authority. If there is anything less detected in the voice, the computer will not open the door; it will assume I am under duress, at which point it will scan for elevated vitals in the room and target them as potential kidnappers, or leaders of a coup seeking power."
"Clever … you trusted no one, did you?"
"First rule of power: Everyone wants your power for themselves. Anyone not seeking power must be satisfied with the current power, or they are simply not … shall we say … politically sparked."
The door grunted with a soft hiss. Hydraulic cylinders, inside the walls, grunted from age. The door opened by lifting upward into the wall, revealing a smaller doorway behind it. Those doors opened with a soft grunt and squeak due to age and decades of disuse.
"What were the titles you used in your name?"
"An old word for chieftain, my doctorate title, an honorary for my clan, and the old word for chieftain in the original language of my tribe, from back before it joined into a nation of other tribes, most of which use the other term for chieftain. Cacique and sachem both hold the same position of power, but one is still used in my tribe because it's the original word, while the other is used by most of the other tribes that signed a treaty with my tribe several centuries ago."
"I … think I follow."
"You only ever need to remember to address me as doctor. I worked hard to earn that one, while my people prefer leadership by bloodline and patriarchal beliefs."
"Understood, Doctor. Based on your tone, it sounds as though you dislike the concept of patriarchy."
"I loathe it." Andross stepped into his old central office. He looked around the large office with walnut highlights and cherry wood floor paneling. The right wall was covered in monitors, which, despite dust-repellant coatings, had started to collect a coating over the years.
"You see men and women as equal?"
"No. I see women as superior. The average woman, on average, is superior to the average man."
"Care to explain? I'm curious."
Andross approached his desk, came around behind it, and sat down in a large chair meant to hold his hulking frame for hours at a time. He placed his hands on the ends of the armrests for the chair. "If you wish, I will elucidate. A woman is capable of anything and everything. To be frank, a woman can do anything a man can do, while nursing a baby in high heels, and will likely complain less than a man if she's doing all those things while nursing a head cold."
Garrick blinked. "I … see."
"There's a reason why the highest being of antiquity was the goddess, Lylat. Women create, men destroy. Not all women and men follow those guidelines, but, on average, women are superior emotionally, intellectually, verbally, and their senses are heightened, giving them a superior edge over the very men whose privilege it is to protect her from both stone and arrow. But did the protector do that in antiquity? Not often enough. Instead, misogyny led to men stoning women for acting in ways the men could not understand. Without women, often labeled 'witches' by the ignorant, science would not have progressed to the point where it overtook old mythologies and superstitions of yore. Men credit themselves, but they are typically inferior, and their frail egos keep them from having the grace to submit to a woman's higher intellect. Women, being smart enough to survive in a man's world, would either choose to being silent or lead from the shadows. After all, leadership is not much different from parenting … your people have basic needs and require rules and guidelines for their safety. Who better to provide that then a natural mother?"
Garrick blinked again, staring at Andross in silence.
"Moving on. We have much work to do." Andross touched a switch on his desk, cleverly disguised as a set of drink coasters, whose base resembled a bookend.
A few seconds later, the monitors came to life, a hologram appeared above his desk, and a voice came from a speaker somewhere nearby. "Doctor?! Doctor Andross?" it asked.
"I'm here, Herbert. I've missed you, my friend."
"It is nice to be missed. Also, let it be known that one of my mobile android units went offline near the town of Cryton on the planet of Papetoon. Its proton battery packs discharged fully on the date of…"
"I'm well aware. Star Fox stole it and took it to their base. It's how my clone determined to attack Cryton Papetoon. That was over thirty years ago. The unit is no longer on Papetoon."
"Correct, Doctor. It was powered up on Venom several months ago by a man named Kyong Adler, who is in current possession of the unit. However, he has changed the root code, baring me access from my own android unit."
"Understood. Continue."
"Continuing with bootup process. All operational imperatives for Shrey-Lek Capitol Control Center are in the process of coming online. Stand by." Herbert paused and paced the desk as his way of showing a loading status bar. He stopped his pacing. "Capitol Command Center is fully operational. For a list of damages to the structure, say 'damage report.'"
"That won't be necessary."
"Stand by. Connecting to AI server. Connecting … connecting…" The hologram's eyes shifted a bit, seemingly looking at Andross, instead of looking through him. Herbert turned his holographic body to fully face Andross, smiled softly, and asked, "My God, Andy, it's been years. I thought I'd outlived you, old friend. You had me worried."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Well, you've certainly outlived me, and by quite a number of years … so I believe it. Alright, so, who is your associate, Doctor?"
"Herbert, this is Garrick."
Garrick nodded.
"Not very talkative, is he?" Herbert said to Andross with a slight grin tugging at his holographic snout. "Well, hello, Garrick. I'm Herb Dengar."
Andross kept his gaze on Herbert and said, "Garrick and his coterie will be assembling a new government on Venom. A democratic-designed Federal Republic, with multiple branches made up of multiple parties, with representatives voted upon by the people in general elections. Each sector will cast ballots using an electoral point system, so that ultra-high populations of one sector cannot bring about government for entire continents of medium population sizes. Each sector will have localized governments, which are kept honest between the voters and the Federal government, while the Federal government will refrain from a hands-on approach for the people, except to keep them safe in matters of the state and in foreign affairs outside of Venom."
"Fascinating, Doctor. And what will your roll be in this?"
"Advisor. Nothing more. I do not wish to have a leadership role."
"At this time, you mean?"
"I doubt I will ever wish to lead again. I failed the people of Venom once already, when I allowed myself to be defeated by a group of teenagers and a middle-aged nobody."
"I'm sure the man and his teenagers are far from nobodies, Doctor, or the man and his group of kids would not have defeated you."
"The teenagers are insignificant children that have since grown up and retired to become simple parents. The middle-aged nobody went on to become a military general, but at the time he defeated me, he was little more than a hobby cartographer at best. If anything, it proved to me that I have no busines leading an empire. I was meant to be a scientist, and I allowed myself to be drawn from my true calling. That won't happen again."
Garrick grimaced but said nothing.
Andross continued speaking. "However, until control of Venom is taken from a current power, known as Anezka Vacek, I will be acting leadership and commander in chief of its military. Upon defeat of that current power, general elections will be organized for a first Prime Minister or President, depending on how Mr. Garrick wishes to define himself. After an established period of time, elections and campaigns will be used to determine the leadership of Venom, by people born on Venom, who are of Venom heritage. Should I not survive this war, you will assume command of all the networked government-controlled computers on Venom that you are able to take, and ensure that Mr. Garrick and his coterie become the founding fathers that this planet needs. Are we clear?"
"Perfectly clear, Andy. I will put things into motion. Shall I use your original display preferences?"
"Yes, please do." As soon as Andross spoke, the wall of monitors, now on his left side, displayed cities around the planet, and showed imagery from several satellites.
Andross glanced to each monitor. "Screen three and six: there is no longer an Area 3 or an Area 6 defense perimeter to display. It's just … empty space. Find Anezka by performing a genetic scan of Venom. Cross references with Krazoan DNA to find her and give me two angles on her place of residence on screen three and six. I want eyes on her as quickly as possible. Also, once I transfer power to the new government run by Garrick and his team, I want to transfer codes to our defense array to the new leadership, so that they can use it in creating a planetary security agency, who will take over in monitoring this world."
"As you wish, Doctor. I'm quite pleased you're giving power to the people."
"A Federal Republic was your idea, Herbert. I'm just … passing it on to Garrick and his party of … Federalists." He glanced at Garrick with a slight smile.
Dengar snapped his fingers, but the audio came from a nearby speaker. "Right! That was shortly before I died. I remember that, now."
Andross rubbed his chin in thought. "I'll have to look into upgrading your system with hard-light emitters, so that when you speak or snap your fingers, it comes from you, not … actually, I could probably work with new technology to put you into a body cloned from your own DNA, with a partial positronic brain."
"I remember the aches and pains of old age, Andy. I'll skip all that. Thanks, but no thanks."
"All right, Herbert. But consider it. Being alive means tasting food, feeling pleasure, feeling joy … I recently met a recently created AI, and I'm interested in implementing some newer technologies to upgrade you. We could design the positronic lobe to give you control over how strongly you feel physical sensations if you wish."
Herbert nodded. "We will discuss it soon, then. But … let me ask you this: you're still organic, doctor … do you feel joy?"
"No."
"You'd be happier in my shoes, Andy."
"Perhaps. In time. After all, I created your systems, your interface, your AI program, and everything you have become to fine-tune the technology before I reach old age, but … for now, the genetic treatments have worked. All right, we will talk later, then. For now, help me to find me this Krazoan woman. It's time to take the battle to her."
"You have no soldiers, Andy. Maybe I'm missing something, here. What manner of war are you waging against her and her people?"
Andross smirked. He'd waited days to make the pun, and he was finally presented with the opportunity to be funny. "Guerilla warfare."
Herbert stared at Andross in silence.
Garrick whispered, "You … didn't … just."
"I did," said Andross, secretly proud of himself, despite both Herbert and Garrick seeming unimpressed. Andross kept his gaze on the hologram, addressing Herbert. "Meanwhile, I wish to make a broadcast to the people of Venom. We will need a high bandwidth upload to every form of communication around Venom … televised, holo-recorded, multiple-frequency radio wave, and by means of social media, until everyone is receiving my message. How long before you can complete that task?"
"While performing your first task, simultaneously, I estimate it will take less than twelve minutes, Andy. Possibly faster than ten. Stand by while I put things into motion for you."
Garrick asked, "You're planning to take over Venom from the Krazoan woman simply by speaking to Venom?"
"Of course." Andross folded his hands on his desk and stared at Garrick. "I made preparations well in advance … decades ago … to be able to reach Venom from this building with ease."
"You expect to just … be able to take over at will by speaking to the people, though?"
"To a degree, yes. Everyone has accused me of not being able to fully relinquish my power and ability to take over at will. They were right. You thought the same thing, didn't you?"
Garrick nodded. "I'm surprised you told your computer that you don't want the role anymore."
"That's because I don't. This will be the last time I speak to Venom as its leader. I look forward to a smooth transition of power to you and your people after this battle is finished."
"You really think this will work?"
"Without people, Anezka Vacek commands nothing. One cannot rule people without influence over said people. Never forget that. You can own land, tax free on Venom. You can own weapons for a price. But without influence, you have no leadership, and to have influence, you must have earned the respect of your people."
"How do you think your return will affect Venom?"
"To start, my return will cause an economic boom. There will be a spike in trading, in futures, in various stocks; people will expect a return to a stable economy, which I provided in the past. The military leadership will side with me, and their soldiers will fall in line. I will announce that I was in a distant star system, but when I learned of Venom's strife, I returned to protect the planet from false leadership. I will rally Venom as a united planet. And, then, I will explain to the masses that I only returned to save the planet from invaders, but will be handing control to the people of Venom. I will explain that I am stepping down to act as a government advisor. My role will be advisory only, and I will craft my exit speech to ensure that the economy remains stable during my transition of power to you. Is that … satisfactory?"
"Surprisingly so. I just … didn't expect working with you to be quite so … easy."
Andross shook his head. "Nothing about any of this will be remotely 'easy.' Do you have any children, Mr. Garrick?"
"I have fathered three sons, all of whom are grown. Nineteen, twenty, and twenty-two. My first son was born when I was just a teenager, but I learned to love fatherhood. Why do you ask?"
"Excellent. Like fathering your three children, leading your people back to a path of prosperity will be the most … difficult yet rewarding thing you've ever done in your life. As a founding father of governance, you will one day have schools named for you, and statues will be created in your likeness to honor you. You will have your face on currency one day. You will be celebrated, especially if you do well. Just remember, you are not a celebrity."
"Not a … celebrity? How do you mean?"
"If you peacock about like a celebrity, such behavior will tarnish your hard work. You will not be taken seriously by your constituents, you will have less political clout among your peers. You will not have the political capital to buy favor, in order to pass your agendas into legislation, and that makes you a less effective leader to your people."
"I understand. Do you have any suggestions?"
"Only to learn from your mistakes, as I had failed to do. Always remember that your preferred method of governing will require consent of the people who are governed. And if you make a misstep, if you fail, if you … do poorly … you will be remembered as a villain. You will be reviled, and your family will be loathed. Your name will be a curse to your progeny. If you lose yourself and if you do not work with opposing political parties on occasion, you will fail your people, not just your voters. While many Venomians remember my leadership fondly because I worked to bring the globe out of huts and into heated homes with reliable plumbing, my name became an insult slung by children on playgrounds. Do not follow my example in any way. Be good to your people. Be … better than I was. Serve at the pleasure of your voter base, but also serve all your people by becoming an expert at compromise. If you do this, the governing body will serve at the pleasure of your leadership during your time in office. Also, please, consider term limits for political positions, including your own."
Garrick studied Andross' face for a moment. In a reverent tone, he said, "You've changed."
"I have, yes. But far too late. Another thing you should understand about a Federal Republic … this form of government will last a few centuries at best, and then it will change, whether by evolution of the governing body, because of the needs of the people, or because of a revolution to overthrow a governing body that grew corrupt. Take political history classes in night school and come to understand the historically respected governments of Lylat that have been documented throughout this system's history. You will learn that the concept of democracy will stand the test of time, but there are no democracy-based governments that have lasted forever, because there is no such thing as an immortal government. But a Federal Republic democracy is what this planet needs at this time."
"I understand, Doctor. Now what happens?"
"You follow me to the broadcasting studio." Andross stood up and came from around his desk. He headed for the door at the far end of the office. "With me, Mr. Garrick."
The two men walked out into the hallway.
Andross stopped in his tracks and held a hand out, stopping Garrick.
"What is it?" asked the lizard in a low tone. "Armed insurgents?"
Andross squinted, causing his bionic optical implants to zoom in. He scanned the area. "An energy signature, not an insurgent."
"Meaning?"
Andross walked to an intersection in the hallway and looked around again. "It's an energy signature I have not seen in many years."
"Is … erm … with all due respect, doctor, but is it possible you're imagining it?"
"No, Mr. Garrick. I did not imagine it – the optical implants I created for myself … they recorded the energy signature. I just replayed the sighting; it was not a glitch."
A glowing entity emerged from the hallway wall up ahead, a few meters past the intersection.
Andross pointed forward. "Look. There."
Garrick's eyes widened.
A glowing face came from the return air register in the wall, but its presence didn't disturb the dust buildup on the slats of the vent. The large face continued out into the middle of the hall, with long glowing tendrils of light behind it.
"Are those … tentacles?" asked Garrick in a soft tone.
"It's how they attach to a host's mind, body, and central nervous system."
Garrick furrowed his brows, causing slight creases in his scaled forehead. "What is it?"
"The architect of your forefathers. The architect of all Lylat's ancestry if we're being pedantic about history."
"Wait, are you saying it's one of those … Krazoa … spirit creatures?"
"Indeed."
The glowing face turned, albeit slowly, until it was facing the two men. Its glowing face contorted as if eyeing Andross.
"Doctor, it's looking at you, but it doesn't have pupils … but it seems to be looking at you."
"Quite so, Mr. Garrick. Do not move." Andross cleared his throat and announced himself to the Krazoan spirit. "State your intentions, spirit."
"James … McCloud," said the spirit in an eerie dual-layered voice. One layer was melodic in the tenor range. The other vocal layer was an ethereal whisper that was, somehow, louder than the tonal vocalization.
Andross blinked. "Excuse me? Are you looking for him? If so, that vulpine is dead."
"No," said the spirit in a firm manner. "For all your intellect, you know nothing," the Krazoa exclaimed. Then, without further warning, it crossed the space between them, and slammed into Andross' body with such force that his hulking five-hundred-pound form lurched into the air.
Garrick backed up to the wall, eyes wide. He watched as the two-hundred-twenty-seven-kilogram man was launched upward, near the ceiling.
Andross struck a simplistic chandelier, which hung from the ceiling along with its matching mates repeating roughly every one hundred feet throughout the hallway. The one he hit came crashing to the ground. It wasn't decorative or opulent like the ones on the ceiling back in his office. Instead, it was a simple light fixture.
Andross' body glowed as if bursting at the seams with a powerful and unearthly illumination. His body radiated light that was so bright, Garrick couldn't even tell that a light fixture had gone dark.
Andross descended slow and calm until he met the elegantly tiled granite flooring, on all fours, panting from exertion.
"Doctor?" asked Garrick in a nervous voice.
Andross looked up, meeting Garrick's gaze. His bionic implants glowed. His eye sockets glistened with basal tears, also glowing. The unholy anathema of mixed glowing red and purple created a dark, eerie, unworldly effect.
Garrick gasped. "By the gods of old…"
Andross spoke with the voice of the Krazoa spirit. "We were never gods. We were creators. We did not wish to be seen as gods, nor did we wish to be prayed to by your kind."
"Are you … Krazoan?"
"I am Krazoan," said the spirit through Andross' mouth. "I will allow this man to continue in his efforts to aid your world. His intentions are pure. But know that I have chosen to inflict strict punishment upon him, by holding him accountable for his past actions."
"With … with all due respect," said Garrick, his voice shaky, but growing in stability as he continued to speak. "…Doctor Andross has demonstrated, at least to me, his desire to atone for the sins of his past."
"He is incapable of truly knowing accountability. I have chosen to show him the error of his ways in a manner he has never before experienced: I am breaking down neural pathways and rebuilding connections in his mind. It will take some time, but he will experience emotion … empathy … and he will come to know every travesty and trespass he has inflicted upon every soul he touched in his life. This is my gift to him – a tortured existence. I allow him to live because his intentions to aid Venom is pure and noble. It will take time for him to undergo the changes to his mind, but if you are to defeat Anezka Vacek, you will require my assistance, and if you wish to hold off the Locusts, Lylat will need my knowledge combined with his plan to isolate them. For now, I return him unto you, but he will be in your care, and I will be watching from within."
Garrick remained silent, unable to think of anything to say.
Andross dropped to the floor, panting heavily, barely conscious.
