Chronicles of Jonathan Tibbs 1: The Never Hero (55 page)

“It would seem, we have found a way to trust each other,” Heyer said.

Jonathan nodded.

“Guess it doesn’t matter much really. I don’t want to fight blindly, but I will if you believe it’s for the best,” Jonathan said.

“Jonathan,” Heyer started, “I will never fall under the illusion, that your enslavement wasn’t morally reprehensible. The only comfort I have is that the alternatives were far worse, but I have spared you of other enslavements. I have not demanded that you believe in what you must do, only that you do it. I’ve not demanded you choose to participate. I have taken the burden and freedom of that decision from you. I’ve not demanded you trust me, as I have given you little foundation to support that trust. If you wish to know the truth of things, I will give you this truth. Please consider that there is no way to ever un-know what I might tell you. Consider whether or not you really want to carry this weight into your next confrontation.”

“Given the option, I’d prefer to know what my actions mean,” Jonathan said. “I’ve been considering the weight of it for months.”

Heyer nodded.

“It’s undoubtedly the same decision I would make,” Heyer said.

They fell into silence. Having this wall between them for so many months, neither was sure how to start breaking it down.

“Where do we begin, Jonathan?”

“The Ferox…” Jonathan said. “Why? Why show up on earth, start killing innocent civilians? Why kill children? It seems so blatantly evil, senseless. What do they want?”

Heyer looked at Jonathan for a minute, thinking deeply. He looked like he was about to speak, but then changed his mind and asked a question instead.

“Jonathan, can I ask you something?” Heyer asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“What do you want the answer to be? If there was an ideal reason for the Ferox, one that would make you resolved to continue fighting them, what would it be?” he asked.

Jonathan shook his head. It was hard to think of a reason one would hope for.

“I guess…” Jonathan hesitated, “this will sound strange as I don’t believe in demons, but if you told me they came from hell, and that all they wanted was to torture and murder the innocent. That I was fighting the Devil’s minions. That would be the easiest answer.”

Heyer looked at the floor and nodded.

“Wouldn’t that be so uncomplicated,” he replied.

“It’s not so much that it’s uncomplicated, just that it’s fair. Be evil, be killed,” Jonathan said. “Justice.”

“I don’t need to tell you that ‘fair’ does not have much to do with real life,” Heyer replied.

Given his circumstances, Jonathan found the statement amusing.

“Go ahead, Heyer,” he said, “complicate things.”

The alien nodded.

“They aren’t killing indiscriminately, Jonathan. They can’t see the difference between a child and an adult any more than you can discriminate between the ages of the Ferox. If you doubt this, understand that the green creature you killed the other night, formidable as it may have seemed, was a child. The coloring, the unformed body type, the tail, the uncontrolled rage it was struggling with,” Heyer said. “For better context, you killed the equivalent of a teenage boy.”

Jonathan let that sink in for a bit. He didn’t doubt the explanation. Frogs lost their tale as they made the transition to their adult form, and the Ferox’s ears had seemed prepubescent.

“The first Ferox, he called himself Sickens the Fever,” Jonathan said. “That name, it seems to embrace suffering.”

Heyer’s face changed into a grim half smile.

“Names do not translate well. They bring with them a cultural baggage that the simple explanation of their root meaning cannot contain. Take your own name. ‘Jonathan’ means Jehovah’s gift in Hebrew. How do you think that would sound to an alien unfamiliar with your planets beliefs? What if that species came from a culture that didn’t have religion as your world knows it? The machinery that allows the translation fails to capture such subtleties. Further complicating the issue, the translator only has access to the vocabulary in your head. What does the name Jonathan really say about you? I’d imagine nothing. Names have just become a noise that you associate with yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Jonathan said, “the teenager, the green Ferox, he called me
Brings the Rain
. Why did he give me one of their names?”

“I’d be guessing,” Heyer said, “but likely it was an expression of respect. Perhaps it found you quite formidable. Perhaps it wanted you to see that it valued you.”

“Valued?” Jonathan asked.

Heyer waved it off.

“We’ll get to that,” he said, “the point is, they choose what their name means as much as you do.”

Jonathan sighed. Even if it was interesting, this wasn’t important.

“Why pile the bodies?” Jonathan asked. “Sickens the Fever seemed to relish killing us.”

“It’s more instinctual than it is evil. But, that isn’t the real reason it did so the night you fought. The easiest answer to that question is because that was what the Ferox was instructed to do.”

“Instructed?” Jonathan asked.

“It is only looking for one human. It will continue to kill whatever it sees until that human is drawn out by the atrocity,” Heyer replied and stared at Jonathan until he made the connection.

“They come here for me,” Jonathan said.

“In a manner of speaking,” Heyer said, “yes.”

Heyer hadn’t lied; this was getting more complicated with every explanation. Jonathan couldn’t see how this made sense. Why would the Ferox come for him? What did the alien mean ‘in a manner of speaking?’

“Jonathan, I’ll try to give you some context, something a human can relate to.”

“Okay,” Jonathan said.

“Imagine that tomorrow the governments of your world locked away every female on the planet. All men on earth are told that mating is no longer allowed. All mating privileges, all access to sex at all, is only on government permission. What do you think the response of the men of earth would be?”

Jonathan thought to reply with a shrug, but as he considered the implications they became ugly in his head rapidly. There was no good ending to that story.

“I’d imagine the most violent rebellion in human history,” Jonathan replied.

Heyer nodded.

“Well, in this analogy, you, Jonathan, would be the government requirement. Well, to be more accurate, killing you, is the key to unlocking their females,” Heyer said.

“How is that possible?” Jonathan asked desperately.

“You, of course, aren’t guilty of literally keeping the male Ferox from their females. Still, to the Ferox you are what stands between them and their species extinction, their ability to bare children,” Heyer explained.

Jonathan still didn’t understand, but was starting to make connections in his head. The way the Ferox had desperately tried to keep fighting even after it was doomed. He knew now what it reached for. Jonathan wasn’t only taking its life; he was taking their future. They saw him as the key to unlocking the salvation of their species. He sat down on the weight bench and rested his forehead into the palms of his hands. Somehow, he was the ultimate evil to them. His threat to the Ferox, ‘I am the end of your species;’ could it have been exactly what they already believed?

“Go on, please explain.”

“The Ferox have always been a highly formidable species Jonathan. The planet they reside on now, is not their origin planet, it is not unlike the hell you wished they came from. That said, it is an immensely larger planet than Earth. They’ve evolved there, becoming intelligent and dangerous predators.

“Originally the Ferox shared their surrogate planet with two other species of similar intellect and lethality. They had reached a balance with these other species and co-existed in a natural equilibrium.”

“Unfortunately, the Ferox have evolved to require combat as part of their reproductive cycles. For the male of the species to become capable of impregnating the female of their species, they must engage in combat with an enemy species of paralleled combat ability. Likewise, for the female to achieve fertility, she must be presented with evidence of this combat from the male,” Heyer said. “It’s more complicated than this simple explanation, but it is enough for now.”

Jonathan, listening intently, interrupted. He’d taken enough evolutionary theory to know that what he was being told sounded highly unlikely.

“That doesn’t sound possible Heyer. I can’t imagine what type of evolutionary pressures would have had to be in place to create such a temperamental reproductive system,” he said.

Heyer nodded, seeming pleased that Jonathan was keeping up.

“Unfortunately, that is correct, Jonathan,” he replied. “Their evolution wasn’t strictly natural. Their current reproductive problems are due to the intervention of another species. Artificial selection, not unlike what humans have done to the wolves of this planet.”

Jonathan knew what Heyer was referencing. Though difficult to imagine, all breeds of dog came from the original genetic stock of wolves. Human intervention had formed the breeds to its wishes.

“Now, imagine similar manipulation in the evolutionary process of the Ferox, this time on a rapid scale with intervention coming from a technologically advanced civilization bent on creating a weapon. Genetic modification of the Ferox is performed. The resultant breed grows stronger with every generation because the only members of the species that are able to reproduce are those that are capable of seeking out, engaging, and inevitably killing a creature of similar lethality.”

Jonathan stopped to think about the implications of what he was being told. This explained why the Ferox seemed so unstoppable: bullet proof skin, metal inner skeleton, seemingly impossible strength, innate combat aptitude, but worst of all, a non-negotiable motivator for violence.

Things just do what they can,
Jonathan’s father’s words echoed in his thoughts.

The creature resulting from what Heyer described couldn’t bother entertaining a moral argument about murder. There would be no conversation Jonathan could ever have with a Ferox that would convince it that violence wasn’t the answer. For them, violence was in fact the only answer. What was worse, it wasn’t even the Ferox’s fault, their biology required it of them.

“Why earth?” Jonathan asked. “Why target them to earth?”

Heyer looked to the floor again, placing his fingers over his eyelids. Jonathan worried. The alien was about to tell him this was not so simple again.

“Perhaps it is fortunate for the time being, that it is not so simple a matter as earth being targeted,” Heyer said.

“Perhaps it is fortunate?” Jonathan asked.

“If earth was simply under attack by a conqueror, this would be a diplomatic problem,” Heyer said. “Earth would have no choice but to surrender, as a full onslaught of these creatures would cripple your way of life in a matter of days and your planet would be easily invaded afterwards. No, this is a unique circumstance, and conquering earth is not the immediate goal, at least not yet.

“You see...” Heyer delayed, and the pause worried Jonathan. “It was my species. They played god. My species turned the Ferox into the incarnation you now know.”

“Your species made them into weapons?” Jonathan asked.

“Yes, but before you get upset, please try to understand the history,” Heyer said. “My species is almost entirely extinct.”

Until now, Jonathan had imagined Heyer came from some planet out amongst the stars, filled with enlightened beings, sending themselves out to help aide less civilized species. It was like a child making up a story to explain something he didn’t understand, and forgetting he’d made it up.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said.

Heyer waved him off as if to indicate that this was not an emotional confession, just a piece of the puzzle Jonathan would need to understand.

“I’ve only ever met one member of my species,” Heyer said, “my older brother, Malkier.

“Jonathan, I’ve been alive for thousands of years. My earlier formative years I spent with my brother, traveling the stars and dimensions that we had knowledge of from the libraries of information that our species left behind. The only impression I have of my species comes from my brother and historical records.

“I could speak volumes about those times, but what is relevant to our current situation is this,” Heyer began. “We eventually each chose a species to settle with, live among. We took on bodies that allowed us to blend in with that species and became a part of those worlds. I chose earth because Malkier said that the people here were the most like the people I had never known, our own species. Malkier, who had been alive to see the self-destructive traits of our species end in our inevitable extinction, was loathe of living among a race with similar characteristics,” Heyer explained. “He chose to live amongst the Ferox.”

Heyer saw the look on Jonathan’s face.

“I can tell, you can’t imagine what would lead him to make this decision. What you have to understand is that Malkier’s choice is one of virtue. Or at least it started as such. He felt a responsibility to the Ferox to restore their biology to what it was before our species corrupted them. Though it may seem hard to believe, the Ferox possess a trait very inhuman that my brother prizes above any other,” Heyer said.