Tom knelt down beside Jessie. She was still breathing, but shallowly. He took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin.
He didn't understand it. One moment she hadn't been there and the next she was falling to the deck with a hole in her chest. Where had she come from? And why was she wearing saddle shoes and the tattered remains of a frilly pink dress?
Around him the fighting continued to rage. Heather, Spot IV, and the other commandos were still holding on, although two of the commandos had already gone down. The stuffed animals that had provided the momentary distraction continued to badger the Black Ship troopers, though their fabric arms and legs could do little against the enemy's black armor.
Tom dragged Jessie away from this fighting, over against the door. He tried to open the door but it was sealed and he didn't have Spot IV's gadget to open it. At least for the moment they were safe from the fighting.
He knelt down beside her, listening to her ragged breaths. "Come on," he said. "Wake up. You've got to wake up." She showed no reaction to this. "Jessie, please. You can't die. Not after all we've been through. Not after we finally got this chance to be together."
She still didn't wake up. Her skin turned paler, becoming a sickly gray. Tom took her hand, squeezing it with his. "Damn it, Jessie, you can't die! I love you!"
He bent down to kiss her on the lips. As he did, their bodies began to glow with a golden light. Her lips turned warm and he felt her begin to kiss him back. Her hands came to life, grabbing the back of his shirt. With her clinging to him, Tom rose to his feet. She pressed against him, refusing to let go.
When he finally had to come up for air, he saw that the hole in her chest had healed itself. The color returned to her skin, so that she looked completely healthy. "You're alive," he said.
"Thanks to you," she said. "You brought me back."
"I did?"
A cheer went up in the room. Tom turned to find the Black Ship warriors had disappeared. "What happened?" he asked.
"They just vanished," Spot IV said. "One minute they were there and the next they were gone."
"Unbelievable," Heather said.
In his arms, Jessie began to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"I finally get it."
"Get what?"
"Us. The Creators. All this time we thought we created everything by will or subconscious thoughts. But it wasn't like that at all."
"Then what was it?"
She kissed him again, only far shorter this time. "Love," she said.
#
Throughout his young life, Will had imagined fighting the epic duel between Tadd Iceslinger and the evil Warlord a thousand times. He and Tom had reenacted it with plastic swords, broomsticks, and wrapping paper tubes. Never had he thought he would really be fighting that duel.
Of course when he imagined himself fighting that duel, he also imagined himself winning it. Instead, he found himself driven back along the corridors of the Black Ship base, his hands aching from clinging to the sword. It was obvious that Spot I was much stronger and had practiced sword fighting for real. He easily deflected Will's feeble attempts to go on the offensive, quickly turning them to his advantage.
"You might as well give up," Spot I snarled. "You're inferior to me in every way. My creations will soon wipe yours out. Then I will remake this universe in my image."
Will knew Tadd Iceslinger would have a snappy comeback to that, but Will could hardly breathe at this point. He merely grunted in response as he continued backing down the corridor. A vague plan formed in his mind. If he could get Spot I back to the waste pool, then he might be able to push Spot I in and drown him. If he could last that long.
Spot I struck faster, attempting to batter down Will's defenses. Will managed to hang on, but just barely. Panting from the effort, Will decided to change tactics for a moment. He intentionally lowered his guard, leaving a brazen opening for Spot I. The Black Ship leader lunged forward to finish Will off. Will spun to the side and prepared to stab Spot I—
Only to find Spot I waiting for him. Spot I swung a blow that took Will by surprise, knocking the golden sword from his hand. Before the Black Ship leader could bring the blade around to finish him off, Will turned and ran. Spot I's maniacal laughter rang in his ears. "You can't run from me! We're a mile underwater!"
Will couldn't argue with this, but he continued running anyway. He found his way back to the waste pool by smell alone. The pool of murky water lit the room with an eerie green glow. Will searched the room for anything he might use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He did find a shipping container to hide behind.
He sat behind the container, listening to Spot I's footsteps approach. It wouldn't be long until the dog he had given life would arrive to take his. How had things come to this? If only he hadn't been so careless in that motel room. If he had taken better care of Spot I, they would have still been together and the Black Ships would never have threatened the Bloc.
The footsteps stopped in the doorway. "Come out, Will. You don't have to worry, it's not going to hurt. You can ask your friend about that." Spot I cackled again. "At least she went down fighting. She didn't run away and hide like you. She's more of a man than you ever will be."
Will steadied himself, knowing these insults were designed to draw him out. Not that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he had gone. He listened to Spot I walking along the edge of the pool, periodically jamming his sword into the water. Will wished he hadn't lost his sword, just so that he could go down with some kind of weapon in hand instead of unarmed.
To his surprise, the gold sword landed a foot away from him. "Go on and take it," Spot I said. "I don't want to make it too easily."
Will crawled over to pick up the sword. He emerged from his hiding place to find Spot I standing a few feet away with his silver blade poised to strike. "Why are you doing this?" Will said. "I didn't want to lose you."
"You didn't care. You left me and then replaced me."
"I could never replace you."
"You gave him my name! You gave him my job, my Power Collar. And you gave him things you never gave me."
"I gave him those things because he wasn't you. He was different. He was more careful and stable because of what happened to you." Will held out his arms. "Why don't you come back with me? We can end all of this. You and Spot II can patch things up. I know he wouldn't hold anything against you. He would understand."
"Never!" Spot I motioned Will forward. "Now, let us finish this."
Will stared at the sword. He threw it away. "No, I'm not going to fight you anymore. You want to kill me or torture me, just do it already. I can't kill you. I love you."
Will's body began to glow yellow. Spot I staggered back a step. "Liar!"
"I still love you. I'll always love you. Don't you understand that? I created you. In a way you're like my son. My first son. There's no way I could kill you." The glow surrounding Will's body turned brighter. Spot I shielded his eyes from this light and took another step back. "Take my hand. I can save you. We can fix this."
"No! You lie!" Spot I took another step back. His foot caught the edge of the pool. He fell into the waste pool. If not dressed in the heavy black armor he might have survived, but the black armor pulled him down into the pool. He disappeared beneath the surface, his sword still pointed at Will to keep him at bay until it too slipped under.
Will stood at the edge of the pool and began to cry as he had the day Spot I first disappeared from his life.
#
Nearly identical scenes played out on the port and starboard sections of the Cerberus. Both Spot II and Buster braced themselves for the arrival of Black Ship landing craft. The battle in space was nearly over with the Black Ships pounding the last operational Bloc spaceships. The Bulldog was one of the last remaining, valiantly fighting on against overwhelming odds.
Buster stared out the main viewer of the port section to watch his former flagship's last stand. His sons Max and Mack were aboard the ship; he tried not to think about if they were still alive or not. His daughter was on the planet's surface, out of contact even if Buster had working communications gear. And his wife was already gone, most likely dead by now. He supposed it was just as well that he wouldn't survive so that he wouldn't have to mourn their loss.
He dropped into the command chair of the port section, watching as explosions bloomed across the Bulldog. So much had been lost in such a short time. It seemed like only yesterday the only thing he had to worry about was interference from Muttlandia. In no time at all, the sprawling commonwealth that was the Bloc of Planetary States had been brought to its knees by this mysterious invader. Once they finished here, that invader would finish what they started on Cattatonia and then do the same to Muttlandia and Bulldogovia. Nothing would be left.
It was just as well he wouldn't be around to see it. That didn't mean he would give up without a fight. As the landing craft attached themselves to the port section, Buster touched the Power Collar at his neck. Until the Black Ships arrived, he had thought of the Power Collars as the most powerful items in the universe. Now he wasn't so sure. What he did know was that he would take a few of these bastards with him.
Part of the wall on the side of the bridge gave way to let the first Black Ship warriors in. Buster waited for the landing craft to disgorge all of its troops before he touched the collar. A blinding beam of red light erupted from the Power Collar. Buster opened his eyes to find half of the Black Ship warriors simply disappeared with the rest as little more than scrap.
Another landing craft attached itself with identical results. By the time the fourth one arrived, the Power Collar was running low on energy. The batteries Dr. Ruff had installed in the Power Collars utilized some obscure fuel, but even they could not last forever. Buster waited until this fourth group had assembled for its attack before he opened fire. Only half of the Black Ship warriors were killed this time. The rest charged forward.
Buster let out a battle cry and then ran to meet the enemy. Ancient instincts took over as he leapt towards the first of the Black Ship troopers, aiming his powerful jaws towards the enemy soldier's neck. There was only armor there, but Buster didn't care. He would go down fighting, just like his father had.
The Black Ship warriors surrounded him, two of them grabbing him from behind. They flung him to the deck. The rest aimed their rifles at him. "You will surrender," one said.
"Never!"
"Then you will be disabled for transport to the Commander." The Black Ship warriors took aim to fire—
And then disappeared. Buster gaped at the suddenly empty bridge in shock. One moment the Black Ship troopers had been there and the next they were gone. He uneasily got to his feet and then went to the front monitor.
They were gone. All of the Black Ships had simply vanished, leaving only the battered Bloc fleet. What had happened?
On the bridge of the starboard section, Spot II picked himself up to wonder the same thing. One moment Black Ship warriors had been ready to shoot him and the next they had disappeared into thin air. Not only the troopers, but the entire fleet as well.
"It's a miracle," he said. That seemed like the only appropriate word for it.
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