The Lost Stories: A Series of CoSmic Adventures

Lost Eternity

My name is James Kollins, and I am captain of the galactic warship DeVille. This morning I received a top-priority message from Earth ordering me to take my ship to Eden and destroy its one and only colony. The Planopsychologists had rated Eden high in the Grumbles-Against-Earth category, which meant that if a rebellion was not imminent, it was at least somewhat possible.

Many of our technological secrets, some related to the Board of Terrestrial Defense and Offense, were in the heads and computers of these settlers. If the Other Side were to get their hands on those secrets, their technology would rival ours and then there'd be no end to this war. That was justification enough for me to cut my vacation short and jump to Eden. But I couldn't cut short the vacations of my crew; better captains than I have thrown away their lives in futile attempts to force their crew back to work before their shore leave was up.

Not that it mattered, as I took the DeVille to Eden and made short work of the fifteen hundred or so settlers, destroying their colony in the better half of an hour. Not bad, considering I was not only flying solo but also trying to follow my favorite holodrama, Captain Courageous and the Women Who Love Him. The colonists took a few shots at my ship—repairing the damage they caused made me miss the last ten minutes of this week's Captain Courageous, for which trouble I wish damnation on their souls.

Though certain I had killed them all, orders are orders, so I proceeded to scan the planet centimeter-by-measly-centimeter. In an unexplored section on the east side of the planet, I picked up strange energy readings.

Landing my ship some two kilometers from the readings, I trekked by foot until I came to their origin—a huge, green and blue (with dashes of red here and there) yellow bush.

The bush emitted high frequencies of Gamma Bamma radiation, from which I deduced that it was recently hit by a sub-photonic laser—which could also explain why I saw nothing out of the ordinary (as far as bushes go) using only my eyes.

Being the personification of bravery I am reputed to be, and in defiance of the radiation that would scare away lesser men, I strode up to the bush and fearlessly touched it. As soon as I made contact, I heard a voice in my head. I pulled my hand away quickly and cut it off before the storm of words could overwhelm me.

After regaining my wits, I touched it again—but slower this time.

The same voice spoke to me. It hardly made any sense and I had to labor to understand, but by slow degrees I was able to begin making sense of the downpour of words.

To sum it up, the voice said it was called Lord and that, if I left the garden and then the planet, and promised that no other human being would set foot on its world ever again, it would grant me eternal life.

Which was great, except it wouldn't let go of me: both my hands were now touching the bush, and try as I might, I couldn't wrench them free.

“Before leave, about self, tell me,” I finally made out.

Poor lonely guy, I thought, and started to recount my trials and tribulations through this life, my joys and my failures. I began with my childhood, and worked up from there, sometimes having to repeat myself twice or even three times before Lord could get things straight. I didn't mind; I figured it was good practice for writing my memoirs.

When I was finally finished, Lord said, “Interesting is this. Cannot give eternal life, though.”

I was stupefied. I'm as modest as you'd like, but I know who I am, and nothing in all my recounting served to put me in a bad light.

“Lord!” I said, heating up. “We had a deal. I'll leave this planet, and I'll do my damnedest to make sure you're left alone. So explain to me why you won't keep your end of the bargain!”

There was a momentary pause before Lord replied, “My hands are tied. You warship the DeVille!”