Anthony DeCosmo - Fusion

The two alien children shrugged off his grip, stepped away, and glared; the suggestion of a common bond disgusted them.

“No. Our patterns are unique.”

“We see existence differently. We have different philosophies.”

“Witness the armies assaulting your planet. The differences are plain to see.”

Trevor shook his head, “The similarities are plain to see. Weapons and tactics; organizational structures. But you have to see past how you look and act. Our DNA may be different but only by the smallest degree. It all comes from an original source.”

The Witiko said, “Pointless speculation. Guesses. Myths. Do not look to him for answers.”

“No. I do not know. But I know that you won’t find those answers at each other’s throats. For the love of God, see this before it is too late! See the trap you have fallen into! See that the enemy is not each other!”

“There is no trap,” The Hivvan corrected. “Only a challenge of our construction. Everything is of our design.”

“A trap! A trap you built for yourselves set by Voggoth! Look at the your so-called challenge. See how you created it. See how well you isolated and contained each race! Eight battles for survival, perfectly crafted so that no one theater would depend on another!”

“Perfectly created,” the Centurian agreed. “Sterile environments allowing each race to be judged independently, so that one result would not depend on another. Until this contamination.”

Trevor cried, “Perfectly created so as to ensure there would be no winner!”

“Liar!”

“Eight different Earths built to ensure eight failures!”

“Quiet!”

“The strongest will survive!”

Trevor roared, “The Red Hands fell but who grew stronger? Voggoth!”

“You cannot understand!”

“Your reasoning is flawed!”

“It is not so simple!”

“Open your eyes! See! How old is Voggoth? How old?”

Trevor grabbed the Duass by both shoulders and nearly shook the child. The boy could not answer. Instead, a voice from across the circle-the voice of Alenna-replied, “He predates all of our races. He may predate the creation of the universes themselves.”

Trevor pulled away from the Duass and leaned over into the eyes of the Hivvan.

“And where does Voggoth live? What animals come from his environment?”

The Hivvan staggered and stumbled, “He comes from the place between the universes. He-he has followers of physical form, animals and organized alike. They worship his greatness. They participate in the challenge with a token force on his behalf.”

Trevor swung about and took two big steps to the Witiko. He grabbed the child’s hands.

“And where did they come from? If he has evolved beyond the physical universe why does he have followers who take physical form? Why are they not put to this same test? Why do they have nothing to lose? Why? Why!”

“They are not life,” came the answer. “They are immortal, like Voggoth.”

Trevor growled, “They are dead. They are his puppets. He cannot evolve and give birth, but through them he extends his armies. He extends his power. He broke your precious rules and brought his forces across time and put them here, in the field, to face what remains of my people. But you say nothing, because he will wipe my people out and that will be one less enemy for you to face; one less participant in this ‘challenge’. But when he finishes here-then it will be your worlds, one by one, that he will overwhelm.”

The Centurian risked Trevor’s wrath as he suggested, “Voggoth’s actions may be the direct result of the contamination here. It is a counter balance to-”

Trevor jumped to the alien, forcing him into silence.

“He has created and unleashed a massive army of war machines. Machines grown from materials of the physical universe-stand-ins to do his dirty work and far more than a token force. How does it serve the challenge if it is Voggoth-and not your armies-that destroy my people? How is that a judge of mankind’s strength?”

“Your defeat is imminent,” the Geryon said in a shaky voice that suggested his own lack of surety. “It was decided in the beginning to sterilize those who lose.”

“That’s not what Voggoth wants! He does not want the losers to be destroyed. If he did, then why didn’t the rules of your challenge allow each race to use their most advanced technologies? Why have you used your collective powers to suppress my people’s nuclear weapons? Why didn’t one of the attacking species use their knowledge to splinter my world with an asteroid or fry my people with mass carnage? Your armies on my world-they all have these weapons at home, don’t they? But they can’t use them!”

The Hivvan tried to explain, “It is a matter of balance.”

Trevor yelled again, “Fools! Voggoth does not want us all destroyed, he wants us beaten and weakened. He wants the survivors for himself!”

The assembled children exchanged a series of glances.

Trevor told them, “Yes, I know what happened to the Feranites. You spoke of sterilizing them, but when the time came of their defeat Voggoth had another suggestion, didn’t he? It sounded oh-so-merciful to you then. But it is what he has planned for all of you.”

“No.”

Trevor remembered The Order at its basic level: “On my Earth, his token force used implants to consume and control living human bodies, warping them into his slaves. Making them into lifeless creatures bent to his rule. Voggoth has not been a silent, passive observer or a token participant. He has been manipulating and guiding this entire war, on all the Earths.”

“You are incorrect.”

“That would contradict what I was promised.”

“You were promised?”

Stone recalled, “It was Voggoth who orchestrated my abduction to another Earth in an attempt to engineer the downfall of my species on this planet and, at the same time, to try and finish off the Chaktaw on their Earth. He gave the humans from Sirius access to the Nyx’s abilities to steal me away.”

He thought of Nina and that first year. He told them, “And it was Voggoth who, in the very beginning, tried to sabotage the survival of humanity by implanting one of my followers and using her to betray me. This was an attempt to lure my race’s survivors to an early and fast transition to The Order’s ranks. How did that serve the challenge? How did that prove or disprove mankind’s worthiness in comparison to other races? It did not. It only attempted to hurry humanity’s ultimate conversion to one of Voggoth’s legions.”

“This suggestion is outrageous.”

“Outrageous?” Trevor nearly cried out. “What has been outrageous has been your complicity in the breaking of these rules! I am certain that some of you standing here know exactly what Voggoth is doing on my Earth, but you don’t protest because he has whispered in your ear that he wants you to win the challenge. He wants you to be the last race standing. And he hasn’t said that to only one of you. He’s probably said it to all of you!”

“Voggoth’s interaction on each of the subject worlds has been limited.”

Trevor continued, “And I’ll bet he told it to the Feranites, too. By the time they were double-crossed, it was too late for them. None of you listened then, because with the Feranites gone, you were one step closer to victory.”

“The human does not know this to be true.”

But Trevor did know it to be true. He recalled the words Anita Nehru had shared from her tomb deep within Red Rock. The final piece; the last truth. The ultimate truth. What she had discovered in that lair of horrors. The answer to the Fermi paradox.

“I ask again-how old is Voggoth? How old are the universes? Why are they so empty?”