Chapter 30 #2
Morlock reaches into one of the seams, pulls out a few things, and steps into the ship. I clutch Erik’s arm, concerned, but it’s beginning to pass. Except we’re here, and I don’t know where my children are.
“Where are our babies?” I ask. “You said they’d be banished with us.”
“Yes, I will retrieve them soon enough,” Morlock rumbles as he works on the ship. “They’re being well cared for at the hospital. I’ll make sure you have enough supplies to care for them until you get wherever you’re going.”
“Midgard,” Sigurd says. “That’s where we’re from.”
“One of them, yes. More than one planet out there with that name,” Morlock says.
“The one where Fenrir walked amongst us,” Ivar says. “We have his mark.”
“Yes, one of the Midgards where one of the Fenrirs lived. Still doesn’t narrow it down enough, but that doesn’t matter. This ship will get you wherever you wish to go once I make repairs,” Morlock says.
My mates exchange glances. Erik steps forward, still holding onto me. “What do you mean… one of?” he asks.
“One of my people’s cosmic mistakes, but that was a long time ago,” Morlock shrugs. “Nothing I can do about it now. Way too late for that.”
“You’re saying that Midgard is a mistake? That we are mistakes?” Sigurd snarls, his muscles flexing against his restraints.
“You are what you are,” Morlock sighs. “But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change anything.”
“If we weren’t wearing these shackles…” Ivar mutters, then Morlock aims his palm at us and all of our restraints clatter to the ground.
“Now what? Are you going to turn into wolves? Try to tear me apart before I can repair your ship? I heard your messages. You’re as desperate to get home as I am to get rid of you,” Morlock says.
“I’m peaceful, as is my planet, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fight.
I could rip the skeletons out of your bodies before you could even howl. ”
“I’ve seen your kind fight,” Sigurd grits out, taking a step forward. “You’re no match for us.”
“Wait, brother,” Erik says, putting a hand on Sigurd’s arm. “I want to hear what he has to say. He’s helping us. There’s no need to get aggressive.”
“I was born aggressive,” Sigurd snarls.
“Yes, Fenrir’s DNA is strong in you,” Morlock says. “Strong in your son, too. Would be a shame for him to grow up without knowing his father.”
“He has three fathers,” Ivar says. “He’ll be a king one day.”
“Doesn’t change who made him. The boy is Sigurd’s offspring,” Morlock says, then he gestures to Ivar. “Tove is yours.” He then motions to Erik. “Revna is yours.”
“You can tell that?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“Yes, the genetic markers are clear,” Morlock says.
“Okay, back to what you were about to tell us about Fenrir,” Erik says. “We don’t care who fathered the children. They belong to all of us.”
Morlock continues working on the ship, pulling things out of his pocket dimensions. After several minutes, he walks to the doors of the ship and folds his arms across his chest.
“I’m from the first civilization to travel the stars,” Morlock says.
“My people were scholars and scientists… eventually. After we solved the problems on our world and started exploring other planets, we were disappointed by what we found. We expected to find others like us, but instead we found infants who had barely discovered fire. It was heartbreaking, finding out we were essentially alone in the universe.”
“And then what?” Erik asks.
“We debated our options. For centuries. By that point, we’d discovered immortality, but it was only given to a select few.
Age is just a number when you can manipulate the cells in your body.
That’s why I’m still around, after all these years.
I was part of the cloning trials, and immortality was required to perfect it,” Morlock rumbles.
“Eventually, we agreed to take the best from our world. Clone them. Modify their DNA. Send them to other worlds, so their influence could help shape the future of those civilizations.”
“Clones?” Ivar’s eyes widen. “Cloning… it doesn’t work. The genetic structure breaks down. Even the Intergalactic Alliance hasn’t mastered it.”
“You misunderstand the scale of what I’m saying. My civilization was much further along than the Intergalactic Alliance is now,” Morlock says. “They’re still learning to play God. We figured out how to actually do it. But it didn’t work out the way we hoped. We should have never meddled.”
“You’re saying that when Fenrir walked on Midgard… when Thor and Odin slayed the giants. They were… were just clones?” Erik asks, some astonishment in his voice.
“Doesn’t mean they weren’t real,” Morlock says.
“They were as real as you are. But gods, they were not. They just appeared that way to those who had never seen that level of technology. We hoped they would breed. That they would share the gifts encoded in their DNA, and it would be passed down through the generations to jumpstart civilizations. Our history, inventions, technology, and even our entertainment. It was supposed to help civilizations prosper. Unfortunately, most of them didn’t.
Most just destroyed each other once they were powerful enough. ”
“Or a plague does it,” Sigurd snarls. “That’s what happened to our world.”
“Perhaps if you’d spent more time learning than raiding, you would have never feared a plague,” Morlock chides.
“We provided everything that was needed, technology coded in the DNA of those we sent. But now the cycle is just repeating itself. One day, in the far future, another civilization will probably make the same mistakes we made. It’s why I chose to find somewhere peaceful to live, as did many from my world. ”
“Everyone?” Ivar asks. “What happened to your world?”
“Our civilization collapsed, but that’s a story we don’t have time for,” Morlock sighs.
“And time passes faster than you realize when you never fear the day it will run out. We were benefactors, or so we thought. Now history is just repeating itself, and not necessarily in a good way. Or maybe it’ll go differently this time.
Regardless, it doesn’t matter, that’s for the rest of the universe to figure out. Not me.”
“Were there clones of you sent to other worlds as well?” Erik asks curiously.
“There were,” Morlock admits dryly. “Most of the universe calls them demons.”
“Your courtroom didn’t look much different from what people on Earth said hell would be like,” I say, trying to process everything. “That’s where the demons supposedly lived.”
“That’s what we’ve become,” Morlock explains, his metal tongue grinding against his teeth.
“My descendants have joined with the Fraz’melkians to form the Intergalactic Alliance.
Now they’re on the same tortured path their ancestors once walked.
Only a matter of time before they realize it, I suppose. ”
“The universe is a lot different now. Most worlds discovered fire long ago,” Erik argues.
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t care what happens out there. I only care about my peaceful life here. Which is why you need to go. I don’t want wolves and humans disturbing the peace on Mallow. You’ve already done enough,” Morlock says.
I look down at the ground. It’s a lot to take in.
Cosmic Influence. The will of the gods. It’s just enhanced technology inside our DNA.
Morlock’s civilization practically seeded the entire universe.
I can tell I’m not the only one struggling with it.
My mates look like their entire lives have been upended.
“We’ll leave,” I say. “Once the ship is repaired and you return our children.”
“The ship is already repaired,” Morlock says. “I’ll retrieve your offspring.”
Morlock seals the pocket dimensions and uses his palm to open a door. I want to rush through it because my children could be on the other side, but I don’t. I just hold onto Erik and wait.
I don’t care how the universe was made, seeded, or screwed up. I just want my children back. Morlock can have this planet. We’re leaving and we’re never coming back.
But not without our babies.