and they were not faceless devils.
To his side, Nina sat quietly making eye contact with no one, the type of diminutive behavior he would have expected from the Nina Forest back home during those months before they fell in love. A quiet, shy woman despite her talents for battle.
In this case, however, Major Forest had good reason to try and pass unnoticed. While Fromm needed Trevor and seemed to believe his story of alternate worlds and deceptions, Forest could claim no such excuse, no such ignorance. She was an original member of an invading army and remained alive only as a result of Fromm's benevolence.
Trevor brought her into the conversation nonetheless.
'You fought in a big battle, seven different armies, right?'
She answered with a nod.
'What armies? What races were there?'
At first she did not understand the question, or maybe she hoped he would just let it drop. Yet Fromm and Trevor both sat and waited for an answer.
'Well, I mean, there were the Duass and the Geryons and ourselves and the Chaktaw. I think, wait, yeah, the Centaurians were there and the Witiko,' she looked skyward as if maybe the answer flickered up there with the stars. 'Oh, yeah, and a bunch of Malebranches.'
While the slave translated for Fromm, Trevor tried to translate the races into names he knew. Of course the Duass equated to the Platypuses and he knew the Geryons. He also knew that Malebranches were what he thought of as Mutants, one of the long list of creatures from the realm of Voggoth. That left two he did not recognized.
'Centaurians? Witiko?'
Fromm spoke before the Major could answer. 'I remember we were without our Behemoths and on the run. We inflicted great casualties upon our enemies before withdrawing.'
'Who are the Centaurians and the Witiko?'
Fromm spoke to his translator who relayed, 'The Centaurians are disciplined but arrogant and easily confused, easily tricked. They have powerful weapons and aircraft, but they do not use their aircraft for fighting, only to watch. This is but one of their many weaknesses. Before we knew their name we called them the ‘Black Eyes’ for their eyes are big and black underneath their helmets.'
'Red uniforms with helmets? Guns that become more powerful as they charge?'
Fromm answered, 'Gold armor, slightly taller than you. Their aircraft use water for fuel.'
'Okay, so their colors are different but we called them Redcoats on our Earth. I have to remember even the invading armies are from different universes. Those hitting my Earth are from my universe; those attacking here are of this, well, reality or dimension or whatever. Point is, they are a lot alike, but still with some differences. Red armor invading my earth, gold invading yours. Still, armor and air ships. The civilizations must all be about the same level. That was probably planned, too. Anyway, who are the Witiko?'
For the first time during the conversation, Fromm looked directly at Major Forest who, for her part, looked to him as well. Trevor judged that by the way they glanced at one another-eyes a little wide, mouths a little open-the two shared an understanding of these Witiko that Trevor lacked.
'Well, who are they?'
'They are dangerous,' Nina said. 'They've got air power and solid infantry, and they can make animals fight for them. But more than that, they're clever. Trevor-my Trevor, that is-couldn't stand them and didn't trust them, even when we were supposed to be working together.'
Fromm spoke through his translator, 'They are little larger than you or I but their strength is not physical; they are sophisticated and cunning. Be weary of them.'
Trevor said, 'Okay then, that answers the question of who was at the big dance,' he stopped and corrected for the sake of the translation. 'I mean, fight. The only ones not there were the Hivvans and the Red Hands. That would make eight and we’ve got ourselves a complete set.'
'We have not faced the Hivvans much here,' Fromm explained. 'But I know they are strong in parts of the world. Their time will come. I do not know the other name.'
Trevor turned to Nina who also shrugged at the name 'Red Hands' so he described, 'Kind of primitive. They paint themselves red, usually a hand. Fight with bows and pointed sticks.'
Major Forest said, 'Sounds like the Feranites. The Order of Feran.'
Fromm nodded as he listened to the translation of Nina's answer. Trevor went on, 'So there you have it. Eight different Earths, eight different races. Well, actually, nine. So we're short an Earth. The only question is…where does Voggoth fit in?'
Fromm recognized that name. His face twisted.
'Voggoth and the nightmares that come from his place. Where ever that may be, it is no doubt dark and lifeless.'
Trevor considered Fromm’s observation. He also wondered about creatures like the Mutants and Wraiths and Roachbots. They were organized, they had technologies, yet he knew from the research done at Red Rock that those creatures-and many more-did not come from the same tree of life as the eight races on the eight Earths.
Trevor asked, 'Tell me something, on my world before the invasion began, thousands of my people disappeared. In the years since, they've been reappearing in areas we've liberated. We call it 'riding the ark'.'
Through his translator, Fromm answered, 'We experienced nothing like that.'
'Are you sure? We keep finding people stuck in this green stuff, sort of like a coffin but when we pull them out they're fine, they just don't remember what happened.'
Again, Fromm answered, 'That is a mystery unique to you.'
Trevor turned to Major Forest and asked, 'Do you know anything about that?'
'Sorry, no. I don't remember anything like that. One other thing, though, when you're talking about all these races that are fighting. Don't forget The Nyx.'
'The…the Nyx?' Trevor remembered the oily black entity from which Nina’s people had stole the dimension- crossing building. Apparently Fromm had not heard of the Nyx, either.
Trevor asked, 'How do they fit in? Do you know?'
Nina hesitated but stares from Trevor and Fromm forced her to speak.
'I don’t know, but my Trevor-the one from Sirius-I heard him joke about them. He called them something…I don’t know if it means anything…he called them the ‘umpires.’'
'The umpires?' Trevor did not so much ask a question as he did roll the idea around in his mind. Fromm remained quiet after listening to the translation.
'I think they are close to Voggoth. Maybe even under his control. I told you, Snowe set up everything to, well, to go and get you and he was in contact with Voggoth's agents.'
Trevor placed his hands over his ears and gave his head a good squeeze.
'I think I’ve stuffed too much in here. I’ve learned more than I ever bargained for.'
Fromm spoke slowly to his translator who said, 'Until the truth of the matter is revealed, we can only play our part inside the scheme. Perhaps a day will come when we can fight against the scheme itself.'
– The early evening sun hung low in a clear sky, sending sharp streaks of brilliant gold above the mountain tops, over Trevor's position, across open grassland, and slamming into the city by the shore like laser beams.
He hid among the remains of abandoned Chaktaw cliff dwellings near the crest of the last hill in a series of hills rippling away from the coastline like protective walls. Through binoculars, he eyed the city that sat along the crescent-shaped coastline.
At one time, that city had belonged to the Chaktaw, but now the Geryon Reich laid claim to the place. Trevor clearly saw the differences in architecture.
The original buildings resembled something like sandcastle towers built by the ocean including grand balconies, stylish archways, terracotta roofs, patios made of rock pavers, as well as statues and fountains decorating intersections. All the signs of a beachside resort, reminding him of his own summer house along the shores of southern New Jersey.
Jorgie liked to build sandcastles.
In contrast, the Geryons added a fifteen-foot tall perimeter wall made of black and gray steel and built in stretches with each section hinged to the next. Catwalks and guard towers with both spotlights and gun
