The Ax
Chapter 43
XLIII
"Michael, I don't know if this is a good idea," Liz said, her voice echoing the seriousness of her concern. "He's evil… and I admit he deserves to die, but… murder?"
"It's not murder, Liz. It's self-defense. It's more than justifiable… It's necessary."
"I don't like it, Michael. Can't we just leave him there in his time… on his world? We don't have to ever go back."
"We can't live that way, Liz. He's a danger. He'll always be a danger. As long as he's alive, we'll never be safe… even on our own planet. Would you ever have thought that he could have almost exterminated our whole planet? And from a different timeline at that… one that technically may not even exist now?"
Liz shook her head.
"Well he did, Liz. And I have to defend the planet. I'm the king's defender… and the defender of the kingdom."
"Michael, that's Rath talking."
Michael shook his head. "It's me talking, Liz. I know who I am now. I'm okay with Rath. He's not evil… like Zwolinski. I don't mind that part of my life now. I'm whole… for the first time in my life."
"But you're still Michael."
Michael nodded. "Yeah. I'm still Michael. I just know who Michael is now… and I've reconciled with it. I like it, Liz. I like being me and not apologizing for it."
Liz stammered for something to say.
"Michael… I've known the sensitive side of you… the boy who painted beautiful portraits and pictures, the man who loves his family… who loves Maria… more than his own life. I've known the caring Michael… when you saved the lives of all those children… even the ones who weren't Antarian… even the ones who were just little… puffs of gas or… or… stringy, vine-like things… or Dragons, for God's sake! You risked your own life for Dragon children, and the Dragons were our sworn enemies then. And I've known the defender Michael, the man who would place his own life in danger or give his own life to defend his planet, his people. But this… I've never seen this side of you."
"Then look at it," Michael said, turning to face Liz, his eyes burning with an intenseness she had never seen before. "Look well at the fourth face, Liz… the face of wrath."
Liz's eyes met Michael's… and she stepped back reflexively. The sheer intenseness of his gaze scared her. For the first time since Liz could remember, no words seemed to come to her. She just stood there, her mouth open, a silent gasp caught in her throat.
"Michael," Liz managed to say at last, finding her voice again, "What if that timeline isn't even there now?"
"It is, Liz. You said yourself that anyone who chose not to return here would live out their normal lives there. Remember?"
Liz nodded. "But everyone chose to return."
"Everyone from our group. Not everyone, Liz."
"The Zwolinski who did this is in that timeline, Michael. In our timeline, as far as I know, Zwolinski is still green with flaming red eyes and hair and being held in a high security area somewhere near Roswell… in area 51 or somewhere."
"And still just as dangerous, Liz. He's proven it in every timeline we've ever met him in."
Liz didn't have an answer for that. She knew that Zwolinski was a danger. He had shown it time and again… often in the most unexpected ways. In the original timeline, he had dissected Liz in the white room. She had not forgotten this, either.
"Are you going to kill him in every timeline, Michael? There are no guarantees in life, you know."
Michael was silent for a moment as he thought about this. "I don't know, Liz. I'm just concerned with the one who did this to us right now. He's my only concern… not the green one. And I vaporized the one that cut you up. Remember? This one has to go, too."
Michael called for the portal then stepped through. Liz turned to Max, who had stood quietly by without saying a word until now.
"Max, he's using my portal…"
"You gave him permission, Liz, when he went to look for himself, remember? You never rescinded that permission."
"Well, I rescind it now!"
Max shook his head. "Don't do that, Liz. It would strand him on Earth. You know what would happen to him. Do you want that?"
Liz shook her head. "Is this what we've been reduced to, Max? Huh? Murderers! Do we have to be like him… you know, like Zwolinski? Aren't we better than that?"
"I don't know, Liz. Can you guarantee the safety of this planet… or bring back 30,283 dead Antarians… Antarians who have died from Zwolinski's virus so far… or the ones who haven't yet but will?"
"That's not fair, Max? There are no guarantees in life. Do we have to have guarantees? Every one of those people we lost left a hole in my soul! We just have to live the best we can."
"I think that's what Michael's doing, Liz. I think we should trust him."
Liz shook her head sadly. She had run out of anything to say.
**********
In a small office near Roswell, a smiling Zwolinski leaned back in his chair and relit a partially-smoked cigar.
"I don't know why I gave these up," he said to the colonel sitting in front of his desk. "Oh yeah… the doctors. Well, I feel like celebrating."
"You think the virus worked," the colonel asked.
"I'm sure of it, Kilpatrick. By now, we've cleaned out the whole nest. That's the way to get rid of rats. Kill 'em at the nest."
"I wish we could have been there to see their faces, Zwolinski."
Zwolinski laughed, but it was not a laugh that he would get to enjoy. A quick shimmer of light appeared behind the colonel, and suddenly, Michael stepped through and grabbed the colonel by the neck before he could turn around.
"You want to see my face? Then I'll show it to you," Michael said, gazing directly into the colonel's eyes as he turned the colonel's head toward his own face. Zwolinski saw it, too, the look in Michael's eyes, and he swallowed what was left of his cigar.
Choking and sputtering, Zwolinski dove for his gun, lying on a nearby table. Michael was quicker. A blast of power from his palm incinerated the gun and half of the table… and almost Zwolinski's hand with it, if Zwolinski had been a little quicker getting there.
Michael threw the colonel across the room, knocking him unconscious.
"What are you going to do," Zwolinski sputtered.
"I'm going to end this," Michael said. "I'm going to protect my planet… from you."
"What… what happened?"
"You know what happened."
Michael was over the desk and had Zwolinski in a headlock before Zwolinski could move.
"How many died? How many?" Zwolinski managed to sputter.
"You'd like to know, wouldn't you Zwolinski? Would it make you happy to know just how many people died? My people?"
"Aliens, Michael. Alien scum. Not people."
"Like me? Alien scum?"
"Like you."
"You're a sick man, Zwolinski."
"Kill me, Michael. It's what you came for, isn't it? Kill me! I don't care now! I've struck. You can't take that back. I've won. It's done. My legacy is complete."
"You failed, Zwolinski. Everyone didn't die. We have a cure."
"But a lot of you died, didn't they? Never mind, you don't have to tell me. Your face told me everything I need to know."
For a moment… a very long moment… Michael stood there with Zwolinski's head under his arm, thinking. Then he threw Zwolinski against the wall. Zwolinski was baffled. He was sure that Michael had come to kill him, and he had prepared himself for it.
"You're right, Zwolinski. Killing you won't change anything."
Zwolinski started to smile.
"I have to stop this at the source," Michael said. "Portal! Take me to the year 1940."
Zwolinski looked momentarily puzzled… "1940? I was in second grade…" Then it dawned on him… "He's going to kill me when I was a child!" Zwolinski turned suddenly pale. "Everything I've done… all my accomplishments… My legacy! will never happen! I'll never exist!"
**********
As the last bell rang, Dumas collected up his second grade books quickly. He had to walk about a mile and a half to get home. It was a bit chilly outside being February. But for February, it was actually not so bad. Dumas was in a hurry to get home. His older brother had promised to take him to the five and dime to spend the dollar his father had given him the day before for getting good grades the previous quarter. Jonathan was sixteen. He had just learned to drive recently and enjoyed shuttling Dumas –or anybody else- around in the family's Packard.
Normally, Dumas would stray from the route home to walk by the lake. It was a big lake, and Dumas always wondered what was on the other side. It was a mystery… the other side of the lake… It might as well have been the other side of the world. But today Dumas headed straight home. There were things that interested him even more than the mystery of the other side of the lake. Jonathan was taking him to the five and dime. Dumas loved the five and dime… especially the little rubber tractors. They had bins and bins of them in different sizes, nickel-sized and dime-sized. And they had lots of other kinds of toys… and candy… so much candy! Dumas could get a lot of candy with a dollar. He'd get some for Jonathan, too.
Dumas walked up the street to his yard and opened the little white swinging gate. He put his books on the ground and closed the gate back then picked the books back up and walked briskly toward the house. As he got closer, he heard something going on inside. It wasn't the normal sounds he would hear… it was more chaotic… like people running… things being overturned or thrown. Dumas dropped his books and ran up onto the porch. As quickly as he could, he let himself in.
"Mom? Are you here? Sally? Francis? Johnny?"
Dumas ran to Jonathan's room. No one was there. He ran to his sister's room.
"Sally? Are you in here?"
Dumas cracked the door carefully and peeked inside. Then he opened the door. The bed had been scorched… and there was a silver handprint on the torn pillow. The walls showed signs of scorching, too. Dumas ran to the living room. He stopped suddenly, dropping his books, as a man stepped into the doorway in front of him. The man's eyes glowed with intenseness, and he looked straight at Dumas. Dumas swallowed.
"Who… who are you?"
The figure in the door didn't answer. It lifted one hand, and the palm began to glow. Michael pulled his hand back and paused… for a moment… then he threw the ball of fire. Dumas saw it coming, but only for a split second. He couldn't have avoided it. He just stood there, his mouth open. The ball of fire shushed past Dumas' face. He felt the heat and an indescribable magnetic feeling as the ball whizzed past him and struck the wall.
Dumas turned to look where the ball of energy had hit the wall, and as he looked, his shadow on the wall began to quiver… then it slid slowly down the wall and came to rest flat on the floor.
"Whoa! That's never happened before!"
Dumas turned around quickly to face the new voice. It was his 16-year-old brother, Johnny, and he was standing beside the mysterious man.
"Space guy here killed your shadow, Dummy! That's… weird… but it's boss, man! Really boss!"
Dumas' sisters and mother stepped out of the closet, and his mother scooped him up in her arms.
"Who are you," Dumas asked again.
Michael shook his head. "Nobody really. Just someone from another planet who came to save you and catch some bad guys."
Dumas looked at the flat shadow lying on the floor. It was starting to disintegrate and disappear.
"What was that? It was an alien wasn't it? You're like an alien space ranger or something… like Buck Rogers!"
"Something like that," Michael said.
"Wow! A space ranger! A real space ranger! Here! Did you see it, Johnny?"
"Yeah, pipsqueak! I saw it! It was totally awesome! Totally boss!"
"A real space ranger! Did you see it, Mom? Did you see it, Sally? Francis?"
The girls nodded. "We saw it, Dum," Francis said.
"You should have been here a little earlier," Johnny said. "It was like Buck Rogers in here, Dummy! These shadow people were trying to kill us, and then Space Ranger here showed up and fried 'em all with his power balls! It was amazing! Really boss!"
"Do you have a name, Space Ranger," Dumas asked.
"It's Michael," Michael replied. "Just Michael."
"Thanks, Michael," Mrs. Zwolinski said. "I don't know how you knew. You showed up right when we needed you."
"Where's your husband," Michael asked.
Mrs. Zwolinski looked at the floor and bit her lip. "You're not going to hurt him… or take him back?"
"Take him…? What? No, I'm not going to hurt him… or take him anywhere."
"George! Come out," Mrs. Zwolinski said. "It's alright. He's one of the good ones. He's not here to take you back."
The door to the pantry opened, and a man stepped out. He had on a gray, baggy suit coat and gray, baggy suit pants, a tie, and a fedora hat. In the face, he looked a lot like Dumas.
"You aren't here to take me back? Why are you here then?"
"To save you… to save all of you… and hopefully, to change history."
Mister Zwolinski looked puzzled. "I guess I should say, 'thank you.'" He shook Michael's hand, and as he did, Michael got an unexpected flash. He saw a man… an alien… running from shape-shifters. He saw the fleeing alien turn himself into a squirrel and scurry up a tree, as the ones chasing him continued to run in the direction he had gone. He saw the alien with Mrs. Zwolinski… Then it dawned on Michael what it was that the shape-shifters wanted with Dumas' family. They wanted one of their own… one who had deserted their ranks… a runaway. That was a capital offense in some shape-shifter communities. It was all for one and one for all… or else… and the 'or else' wasn't pleasant.
"Are there more," Michael asked quietly.
"I don't think so," Zwolinski said. "These were the only ones that I know of. They were… my pod. We had a falling out… a disagreement over the value of human life."
"You tried to convince them that humans were more than they thought."
"Yeah. I met Marjorie." George looked at his wife. "They tried to bring me back. When I wanted to stay, they decided to kill her… and my family… and me if necessary. 'No' is not an answer they understand or accept."
"Well, I gave them an answer they can understand," Michael said. "You can live your life, Mr. Zwolinski. Raise your family… your kids. Take care of them." Michael looked at Dumas across the room with the rest of his family. He was still grinning from ear to ear. "Do they know? Have they… can they…?"
"Shape-shift? No. Not that I know of. They don't know. I'm just George Zwolinski, their dad, to them. We're just an all-American family. I'd like to keep it that way. They seem to have inherited more of their mother than of me, and I'm glad it happened like that. It will be easier for them."
"That's true," Michael agreed. "I can vouch for that."
"Personal experience?"
Michael nodded. "Go on, Mr. Zwolinski. Go to your family. Raise them right… to appreciate and value life… whatever planet it comes from. They need you."
Zwolinski smiled and shook Michael's hand again. Clearly, he had adapted thoroughly to the all-American way of life. Michael never would have known what he was if he hadn't touched him and got the flash that he did.
"Portal," Michael called. The portal appeared. Dumas ran up to Michael. "Can I shake your hand, too, Mister Space Ranger, Michael, sir?" Michael nodded, and Dumas shook his hand, smiling broadly.
"Thanks, Mister," Dumas said.
"Your welcome," Michael whispered, then he disappeared into the portal.
**********
Michael stepped back into the front room of Jim Valenti's ranch house to a waiting Liz and Max. Liz looked at him. There was no smile on her face.
"So did you take care of the problem?"
Michael nodded. Liz swallowed and turned away for a moment.
"It won't matter, Michael. Killing him wasn't the answer… not like that… in cold blood. It won't change anything. It just makes you a… a…" Liz couldn't say it.
"I know," Michael said. "I realized that killing him there in his office wasn't going to solve anything."
Liz turned to look at him. "What did you do?"
"If I was going to change anything, I had to intervene before he grew up and became what he was… when he was still seven years old…"
Liz looked at Michael and went white. When she could speak again, she stammered, "You killed a child?" Tears began to roll down her face.
"No, Liz. I didn't kill him. I killed the shape-shifters. His family lived. Now maybe he'll grow up to be a happy, well-adjusted person. I don't know, of course. We can only hope. Someone told me there are no guarantees in life."
Michael was prepared for Liz's disappointment in him. What he was not prepared for was for her to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him then start crying. Michael looked at Max, and Max shrugged. Michael patted Liz cautiously on the back, not knowing how to handle this turn of events.
Max walked across the room to where Michael stood and looked him in the face… then he smiled. "I think you're not the only person who learned who you are, Michael. These are trying times. We're all being tested. And we're all finding out who we are… in more ways than we realize."
tbc