First Immortals

First up I would strongly suggest that if you haven't read the earlier chapters please do so before reading this one, it will explain a lot of things...

Now, enjoy. BB1212

*

It is going to make this journal much easier to read if I just write what happened next as if we were talking. What was actually happening was the Eriguons started projecting questions on the wall and Amy would project the answer we gave her.

"We are not able to communicate by thought," she replied, "we use our voices to make sound."

"What is voice, what is sound?"

There was a long discussion on this, but eventually the concepts were explained, and Amy asked the all-important question.

"Why are we here?"

"This is an intergalactic court," the Eriguons explained, "and your race is charged with using a prohibited weapon and attempted genocide. The punishment for these crimes is eradication."

"Of all of us here?" she asked. We were incredulous.

"No, of your planet."

This had just got extremely serious.

"I am Commander Scabbard," I said via Amy, "and I am the most senior person who survived our voyage to the planet we call YW4597."

"Then you will be responsible for the eradication of your people," they replied.

"But were we only acting in self-defence," I said, "they had captured us, and were using us as slaves."

"Taking the lower species as slaves is not a crime," they replied.

"They were killing us," I argued, "one at a time they would simulate sex with us and when we provided them with our, er, sperm we would die and they would cast our bodies off the planet."

"What? Explain," they demanded, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally I had their attention.

"Well to kill us they would use their tendrils to stimulate our sexual organs, milk us of our seed and those that did died. They knew that," I said, "it was simply murder."

"Killing of the lower species is not a crime," they said, "what did they do with the shells of the dead?"

I was thoroughly confused, it is hard to win a contest if you do not know what the rules are.

"They had given us these things in our shoes that kept us on their planet. They would take them from the dead and cast their bodies out into space."

"Are you accusing them of deliberately sending biological waste into the interplanetary zone?" they asked, and I was furious.

"It wasn't waste, it was the bodies of men who had been murdered." I said.

"We shall communicate," the Eriguons said, and for some time we waited.

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry when they put up their next message.

"The charge of attempted genocide is dismissed because their race has now been downgraded due to their repeated breaking of intergalactic law."

I didn't fully understand, but this was good news.

"But you still used a prohibited weapon, and the punishment for this is still eradication."

This was bad news.

"We did not use a prohibited weapon," one of the politicians said. I found out later it was Dixscon Rickson who at the time was the President of the World Council of Nations. I didn't know him because I had been completely isolated from Earth politics since the beginning of the voyage.

"We have records of the energy signatures," the Eriguons replied.

"They are not prohibited for us," Dixscon said, "because you have never told us these rules, or even that an intergalactic court exists."

"It has been broadcast to all planets in all places."

"Not in a way that we can understand. If you want people to comply with your rules you should confirm that they understand them."

Strangely enough this argument was successful. It seems that there was another race in existence that didn't communicate via direct thoughts, and a previous ruling had held the Eriguons responsible for some transgression because they hadn't confirmed that they knew what was expected of them.

The second and final charge was dismissed.

Dixscon and I were singled out for a final message from the Eriguons.

"You know now that energy weapons are banned. You must destroy every one of them in your realm immediately or face eradication."

"Wait," Dixscon said desperately, "we need time to do that."

"Immediately," they replied, "we will return and check."

Then I was suddenly transported back to where I had been before, which meant my solitary cell. I didn't get to catch up with the Mayflower crew, and I didn't get to discuss with Dixscon how we were going to get rid of every energy weapon on the planet. But that was OK, because they were finally going to let me out of the cell weren't they?

Weren't they?

I waited for two weeks before it occurred to me that maybe the game on Earth hadn't changed after all. If all of the Mayflower crew had been in custody before the Eriguons found us then we all would have been right back there afterwards as well. Dixscon could just pretend nothing happened, although explaining Thonlinson's sudden absence might be a bit difficult.

But then I checked myself. All Dixscon had to do was blame me for Thonlinson's death and he would be home. But was he really stupid enough to think he could just ignore the rulings of an intergalactic court? Surely he had seen what happened to Thonlinson when he tried to defy the powerful aliens?

But after two more weeks had passed and I realised I had to take action myself, but what action could I take? There was no response to shouting or talking, and I knew they just drugged me if I broke things. Then it occurred to me. What if I broke me?

It took me three attempts to break my own arm, I had no idea just how tough human bones are, but eventually I did it by wedging the arm behind the shelf while standing on the bed and then jumping off.

I've since got used to the healing by myself thing, but I have also worked out that the pain is never worth the injury, it is still bloody painful and a compound fracture of the upper arm was at the time the most painful thing that I had ever experienced.

I shouted for help, and none came. I suppose they weren't bothering with monitoring just one cell, and so I lay on the cell floor moaning quietly until I heard the food arrive.

"Help me please," I called in a voice croaky from lack of use, "my arm is broken."

There was a long pause and then the food delivery hatch shut again. I was banking on the people who were watching me being too low in the scheme of things to know about my ability to recover from injury, and fortunately it worked. About ten minutes later I heard a gruff male voice from the other side of the door.

"Have you really broken your arm?"

"Yes," I answered with relief.

"If you're lying you are going to regret it, because I will personally break both of your arms," the voice had turned menacing, and I believed he meant what he said.

"I really have," I said, "please help."

"Stay away from the door," the voice said and for the first time in seven months I saw my cell door open.

"Holy shit," the guard exclaimed when he saw the blood and my bone sticking out through skin, and he turned around. "You'd better come in."

The guard was a big man, about a head taller than me and half again in width across the shoulders. He looked dangerous and the shock gun he had pointed at me just added to the menacing effect. In contrast the medic that followed him into the cell was tiny. But I had seen tiny before, the really amazing thing was she was red. Not just red hair and red eyes, I was used to that, she also had red skin, and it was a very unnatural colour, like she had been given a dark red tattoo that covered her entire body. Contrasted with her white uniform it just looked wrong.

I was so astounded that I almost lost my chance to talk, and that was why I had gone to such an extreme in the first place. The red woman walked toward me with a contact syringe which was the first immunisation system that didn't pierce the skin, but it did require direct contact and I suddenly realised they were just going to knock me out.

"Wait," I said desperately, "please wait a second." She hesitated.

"What?" she asked. Her voice was quiet and wary.

"I've been in here for months and I don't know why, can you help me?"

"No," the guard interrupted, "give him the shot." The medic took a step closer.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

"Axle Swarsted," the guard said in a tone that told me he would rather be hurting me than talking, "the man who sabotaged the Survivor Four and killed twenty seven children."

"What?" I was incredulous. "No, I'm Josh Scabbard the final commander of the Mayflower."

"The Mayflower crew all died from some disease they brought back," the guard said roughly, "that doesn't hold water. Give him the shot." I was getting desperate.

"If that's what you've been told don't believe them," I said, "but I can prove that there is something about me that their story won't explain. My arm will heal within a few days and there will be nothing to show it was ever injured."

"What rubbish," the guard said, and the red medic held the contact syringe to my arm.

"If I'm right please talk to me about this..." I said as I started feeling drowsy.

"If you're right I'll come back and fuck you senseless," the woman said, and I heard the guard laugh cruelly.

"Yeah, right," he muttered, "like that's going to happen." My mind started spinning as the knockout drug worked.

"He does look a bit like Josh..." I heard the female voice say as I finally sank into unconsciousness.

I woke up on my bed with my arm in a moulded cast. There was virtually no pain and I wondered if that was because I had healed or because of the drugs they would have given me. But then I remembered the gamble I had taken, and I wondered if I would get their interest enough to be able to find out what was really going on outside my cell. It was pretty obvious that the powers had decided to let the Mayflower crew rot in jail rather than acknowledge our achievements, and this made me furious. But worse was the story they had made up about me to ensure that nobody got close enough to even talk to me.

I really hoped that I would get the chance to talk to my captors again, it was my only hope of getting out of the mess I had landed in.

My thoughts were spinning around randomly. In what was the prime age of digital surveillance they obviously did not have any cameras in my cell, but why? I decided it must have been so my captors wouldn't recognise me, and also so they wouldn't develop any empathy from the familiarity of watching my daily routine. But I couldn't be sure they hadn't put some in or turned them on to monitor my injury either. That was a pointless train of thought, I wouldn't find out until it was too late to take advantage of it.

My mind finally turned to the red girl, and her last comment to me. I had been seven months without any sexual contact, but that was my least concern at the moment. I was not sure what was wrong with her, she must have had some weird disease to colour her skin like that, but was it contagious? Would I find her attractive? Much of the sex I had had on the trip back from YW4597 was for medicinal purposes, and I had performed from a sense of duty rather than from passion. Maybe I could cure her and she would be grateful enough to help me get justice?

I swung my arm around a bit and decided to leave the cast on for a day, just to make sure. The cast had a vocal medilock on it, which meant that only trained medics, or other authorised personnel could open it. As far as I knew I was still other authorised personnel, and if that was the case then removing it wouldn't be an issue, but I decided to wait the extra day to allow the wound to heal more completely.

I pondered for the day, and when I heard my food arrive I didn't try to talk to them. I knew they would be checking my progress soon enough.

The next morning I woke up with the hazy feeling that told me I had been drugged again. I smiled, that meant they had seen my injury, and if it had healed as I expected it had, that was really going to confuse them. I put my finger on the cast release, said 'unlock' and pressed firmly. The cast split neatly in two and I looked at my arm. There was a dark red area where the skin had been broken, but it was now intact. The arm itself felt fine, and I guessed that the bone was fully healed, but I decided I should probably forgo exercise for the first day.

I have to admit I was incredibly relieved. I had seen Hugh's amazing recovery after a major trauma, and we had soon worked out that the three of us who had survived sex with a YW had changed radically as a part of that process, but I hadn't suffered such a major injury myself and there had been a nagging doubt in my mind that I might not heal as easily.

By mid-morning I had decided that I was going to exercise after all, and I began my daily routine. I was no longer content to sit and wait, I just had to be doing something.

"Stay away from the door," the male guard's voice commanded, breaking my concentration.

"Acknowledged," I replied and moved to the far side of my cell. A short time later the door opened and the same guard I had seen previously walked in, his shock gun ready. He looked at me for a moment.

"Where is your cast?" he asked suspiciously, and I just pointed at it lying on the floor. He walked a couple of steps to it, and obviously saw it wasn't damaged.

"How did you open it?" he asked gruffly.

"I was commander of the Mayflower on the return trip," I explained, "I am authorised."

"Makes sense," the red girl said as she walked into the cell. She looked at me for a long time and nodded to the guard.

"Still think you're Josh Scabbard?" the guard asked.

"I know it actually," I replied.

"I won't hesitate to use this," the guard said, waving his shock gun gently.

"I don't doubt it," I replied, my hands open to show I wasn't hiding some sort of weapon.

"OK," the guard said, his voice directed out of my cell, "come in."

A man walked into the room, looked carefully at me and then took a few steps closer. I stared at him for a moment before it fell into place.

"How are you Redline?" I asked, and he smiled.

"Is that really you Josh?" he asked, "You don't look like you have aged at all." I grinned. If they wanted to test that I was really Josh Scabbard then they had found the right person. Redline Speedway had joined the Australian Air Force with me. We had qualified on Stellers together and he had been my closest male friend until I had moved to the states to train for the Mayflower mission.

"Sure it's me," I said, and I grinned, "want me to prove it?"

"Yeah," he said, "Rocky." I smiled at the memory.

"Weekend transit leave in Rockhampton," I said, "Johnny Travers, you and me in the suite at the Mercure. The room service girl got excited about the fly boys and came back for some fun after she knocked off."

"Who went first?" he asked, and I laughed. It had been a big argument at the time and a very novel solution.

"All on the count of three," I said. It brought back some really hot memories. We had decided to do her at the same time, but it was hard to work out how we could. Eventually we had her lie on her side with her leg held up. Johnny aiming his cock at her lips, me aiming mine at her pussy and Redline aiming his at her asshole. At the count of three we all thrust together. Man, did she squirm at first, but damn didn't she just love it too.

"He's for real," Redline said, and he walked over to me. We hugged. I know, not very manly but sometimes you do need to hug your mates.

"So," the guard said, obviously relaxing a bit, "tell us your story."

It was only the second time that I had told the story of the Mayflower voyage, and even with a sympathetic audience it was clear that much of what we had seen and done was so totally outside of the normal that I would always have trouble convincing people that I wasn't making it up. If the guard and the red medic hadn't actually seen my self-healing abilities I am sure they would not have believed it, and even with their assurances Redline was dubious.

"Now," I finally said, "I have a couple of questions."

"Yeah?" Redline said.

"Has the government got rid of all the energy weapons?"

"The what?" Redline asked.

"You know, M2K's and M5k's, that sort of thing."

"Ah," the guard said, "the World Council of Nations said they were going to ban them, but there was this huge protest and they've gone quiet on that now."

"Damn," I said quietly, I hadn't gone past our return to Earth in my story, and now I had something even more unbelievable to tell them.

An hour later we had a plan.

"So," Redline said, "you guys will let me back in with Androger Spavl tomorrow so we can do an interview?" Apparently Androger was the king of the shock and expose type telecast, and he was always more than happy to take on the World Council of Nations. But he had never had a story that was this big. Redline knew him socially and he said he could make it happen. I believed it.

"Yes," Sunders replied. Sunders was the guard. I had no idea if that was his first or last name, he was just Sunders.

"You realise the trouble you both could get into?" Redline asked.

"Not Scarlet, just me," Sunders replied. "We haven't got around to reporting the injury yet, and now there is no evidence of one so we don't need to."

"I'm in it too," Scarlet said stubbornly.

The fact that Scarlet's name matched her body colour was the first clue I had that her red skin was not an illness, it was a fashion statement. Over the next few years I managed to have sex with a purple girl called Violet, an orange girl called Saffron, a green girl called Teale, a blue girl called Cyan and quite a few other colour shades as well. It was an interesting craze while it lasted.

"The less people involved the better," I suggested, and Scarlet just poked her tongue out at me. Not surprisingly it was scarlet. Saunders looked at his interface and frowned.

"Is that it then?" I asked, taking the hint.

"Yeah," Saunders said, "next shift is in soon."

"I really can't thank you all enough," I said, and damn did I mean it. As they turned to go Scarlet spoke up.

"One more thing," she said, "I'm staying in here." Saunders looked at her doubtfully.

"I can't let you out until my shift tomorrow," he said.

"There's not a lot of room for two to sleep on that bed," Redline added. The bastard still had the same sense of humour.

"We're not going to sleep," Scarlet said, "I have a promise to keep." If my cock had been any more interested it would have pushed Saunders and Redline out the door and slammed it behind them.

I faced Scarlet as the echo of the closing door faded and the footsteps outside did the same.

"You don't have to..." I started to say something chivalrous.

"I want to," Scarlet said, "the only question is do you?" Did I? You fucking bet I did.

"It's been a very long time," I said apologetically, "I may not be up to my usual standard."

"Josh," Scarlet said with a grin, "I'm sure we are going to do just fine," and she walked to me, put her arms around me and tilted her head up for a kiss.

I don't know for sure, but as I look back over the centuries I wonder if that time that I spent locked up saved sex for me. So much of the sex on the return voyage had been because it was some girl's turn, or because she was sick and that meant that the real passion, like the passion I had with Keisha, began to fade a bit. But I realised as I passionately kissed Scarlet that absence may make the heart grow fonder but in my case abstinence made the cock grow longer. Scarlet squeezed the evidence of this and she broke the kiss and looked at me. "Damn," she said, "I did some research on you Josh, and I expected big, but this thing is massive." I smiled.