Return of the Ancient Gods Read online

  ALSO BY CRAIG A. ROBERTSON

  BOOKS IN THE RYANVERSE:

  THE GALAXY ON FIRE SERIES:

  EMBERS, BOOK 1

  FLAMES, BOOK 2

  FIRESTORM, BOOK 3

  FIRES OF HELL, BOOK 4

  DRAGON FIRE, BOOK 5

  ASHES, BOOK 6

  THE FOREVER SERIES:

  THE FOREVER LIFE, BOOK 1

  THE FOREVER ENEMY, BOOK 2

  THE FOREVER FIGHT, BOOK 3

  THE FOREVER QUEST, BOOK 4

  THE FOREVER ALLIANCE, BOOK 5

  THE FOREVER PEACE, BOOK 6

  RISE OF ANCIENT GODS SERIES

  RETURN OF THE ANCIENT GODS, BOOK 1

  STAND-ALONE NOVELS:

  THE CORPORATE VIRUS (2016)

  TIME DIVING (2013)

  THE INNERgLOW EFFECT (2010)

  WRITE NOW! The Prisoner of NaNoWriMo (2009)

  ANON TIME (2009)

  Return of the Ancient Gods

  BOOK 1, RISE OF THE ANCIENT GODS SERIES

  by Craig Robertson

  To know absolute fear is to know the Ancient Gods.

  Imagine-It Publishing

  El Dorado Hills, CA

  Copyright 2018 Craig Robertson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission from the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9997742-6-7 (Print)

  978-0-9997742-5-0 (E-Book)

  Cover design by Jessica Bell

  https://www.jessicabelldesign.com/

  Editing and Formatting services by Polgarus Studio

  http://www.polgarusstudio.com

  DEDICATION

  To my perfect wife, Karen.

  A glossary of terms is provided at the end of the book

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

  GLOSSARY

  And Now A Word from Your Author

  PROLOGUE

  Grand Lord President Vlaporlock lazed on his throne late one warm afternoon and he reflected. He was happy, joyous in fact. No, he re-reflected, his bliss was beyond any normal state of exhilaration. He was rapturous. Yes. In fact, if he were only slightly happier, he might explode with happiness like his father's father had while lounging on that very throne so many years before. It took a crew days to clean his father's father up, but none complained. Every puddle they mopped from the floor was ecstatic. All the tiny specks scrubbed from the crown molding were positively giddy. To explode from overjoy was never considered a bad turn of luck.

  Vlaporlock ruled the Galactic Cleft and all that existed on either side of it. Times were, as they typically were, good. Trade flowed like mighty rivers, the weather was perfect, and the citizenry was both charming and contented. War or any form of strife was so removed from everyone's awareness that most people had difficulty properly defining those terms. Children, when asked what hard times were, responded that those were the rare occasions when they couldn't have a third dessert.

  The grand lord's head bobbed and lulled as he drifted off into his second nap of the morning. Finally it came to rest on the feather pillow placed just so to accommodate his worship's restful head.

  In his dream, young Vlaporlock romped in a field of long grass. He was chasing a girl, and then he realized he was being chased by her. It was Hollida, his second cousin. She was sweet and innocent in his dream, much like she was in real life. He ran faster to escape, but could not for all his gold understand why. If she caught him … that would be nice. His legs therefore sped up. He tried to slow himself down by the judicious angling of his winglets, but somehow that only caused him to go faster.

  He reached out to grab a passing fancy. Many fancies frolicking in a forest he flew through. There, he got a couple and they slowed him down. Vlaporlock spun around and around and came to a stop, dizzy but …

  A dark shadow rippled to his right. He turned quickly but saw nothing. The young lord was confused. Nothing dark and elusive ever entered his dreams. Ah well, he thought from the cliff top he stood on, let it go. No need to ruin a perfectly good dream in the midst of a perfectly good nap worrying about …

  There was a rumble behind him that made him jump to the cliff's edge. But when he looked, there was nothing. Hmm. There was something. He trotted over to inspect it. He brought along his winged puppy, but made certain Merriment stayed well behind him for safety's sake. Vlaporlock arrived at a harsh furrow cut into the soil. Rocks were cast aside. He picked one up. It was not fractured, it was sliced. The king was just about done with this nonsensical dream. Yes, both he and his dream self decided …

  A massive black scaly spine rose from the ground at Vlaporlock's feet. It crested at seven hands and disappeared back into the ground. Young Vlaporlock began to sweat and old Vlaporlock's heart raced. Both twisted to flee. Then the head of the nightmare beast leapt from below and swallowed the young ruler whole. It dove back from whence it came. The earth closed as if this imaginary event had never happened.

  Shortly after the designated time, the seal master unlocked the throne room doors. The door master stepped past him and swung first one and then the other massive door open. The Awakening Master led the small army of courtiers that followed her toward the throne to begin the process of gently rousing the grand lord. But the throne was empty. Awakening Master Salli stepped up to it and looked behind. Occasionally the rather clumsy king fell there when having a particularly vivid dream. But he was not found there either.

  Salli jumped to the side like her feet had springs, which they actually did. She shot a glance back to see if she had accidentally stepped into a happy puddle of this ruler as she had done with his father's father. She had to ultimately burn those shoes because they wouldn't stop laughing.

  But there was no joyous ooze. She called for a ladder and inspected the ceiling. No mirthful specks or spots.

  No one ever learned what became of Grand Lord President Vlaporlock. It became the only mystery know to the otherwise burden-free citizens of Jasperite.

  ONE

  There were three reasons I knew there was a God in Heaven. My wife, sunset walks along a beach, and pizza. Don't press me on the rank order, please. Two outta three wasn't too bad either. I was having pizza with Sapale. No beach on the planet was safe to walk along, but we were in a pretty forest. Kalvarg had nice ones. The beaches were nice too, what I'd seen of them. But relentlessly vicious sea sentients named vidalts prowled the waters off the beaches looking to pick off any careless land colonists. Avoiding a violent death kind of ruined a romantic getaway. But we were good.

  Over the better part of a century our lives had gone from dicey and potentially short to simply marvelous. Yeah, once we destroyed t
he evil empire that was the Adamant matters got better quickly. The overgrown dogs had reverted back to a pack-hunting species already. Minus their endless conquests and destruction, the galaxy flourished. The colony that Sapale, the wife-unit in my proof of God argument, and I founded was going gangbusters. What started as a beleaguered group of refugees was already a vibrant, blossoming society on Kalvarg. And many of the worlds destroyed by the Adamant were slowly getting back to normal. Sure, some were so altered that none of the original sentients existed. But at least their flora and fauna were rebounding.

  Being Jon Ryan was all good. Oh, and the occasion of our picnic? It was my two billionth one hundred and third birthday. No, Sapale didn't put that many candles on my cake. There'd be a drop in the planet’s oxygen level if she had. Whether or not that day was exactly April 16th on what had long ago been Earth was not actually clear. Absent any basis in fact, I claimed it empirically. I'd naturally married a much younger woman, human male pig that I was. Sapale was soon to celebrate her two billionth eighty-fifth anniversary of life. My wife, or brood's-mate as her species named females partaking in that venerable institution, was Kaljaxian, like most of the colonists on Kalvarg. Us android downloads amassed a lot of birthdays if we did our regularly scheduled maintenance. It was one of the plus sides of immortality. There were others, like not worrying about high cholesterol or when to get plastic surgery. But there was many a downside too. More on those later. I didn't want to be a gloomy Gus on my special day. Not before the presents anyway.

  And old Toño De Jesus was happy as a clam. He settled down on Vorpace after the Adamant were beaten. He did marry Jonnaha and the dude had twins with her. Those were heady times. But time, the changer of all, moved on as it continually did. Jonnaha passed around forty years ago. It devastated Toño, but he finally came to terms with her death. He had the kids to raise. Toño Jr. was a space rat like his adopted uncle Jon. Jonnaha Jr.—yeah, they did it different on Vorpace—was a scientist like her papa. Really gifted. He was so proud of the both of them, as well as his grandkids.

  We all reveled in the peace we had so earned. What did I do for a century that was the first in my life without war and conflict? I fished a lot. Freshwater, mind you. Again, saltwater fishing wasn't relaxing. Plus I tried it a few times and it wasn't sporting. Once our friends the seagoing wiqub noticed I was dangling a line, they herded tons of fish toward my location and even put some on my hook. That made it no fun at all.

  I also worked feverishly to have the Kaljaxians adopt the proudest gift of humankind's culture. I tried to teach them football. Their bodies were similar enough to ours to make it possible. The only major differences were they matured a little smaller than humans and they had four eyes. But sooner than later everyone decided the sport was too damn violent, so it didn't catch on. I wasn't sure I could ever forgive them for that, but I was willing to try. Instead I taught them baseball. That they embraced. They were pretty good at it too. Kalvarg's gravity was different than Earth's used to be, so exact comparisons were not possible. But they hit for average better than us, probably because they had the extra eyes. Darn cheaters.

  I'd always espoused that just when I thought things were going well, the bottom would drop out. I had to actually stop thinking like that. In one hundred years of constant improvement and joy, no bottom had formed to drop out through. I was stunned. Because I never lost my ADHD approach to life, I did still explore. I'd hop in my vortex and go somewhere on the pretense of needing to make sure societies were staying on track in their recoveries. While there I was known to explore local watering holes, naturally. That's probably why Sapale never came with me. She, for unclear reasons, did not like cheap rotgut served in filthy establishments. Go figure. More for me, right?

  One day I went to Azsuram. That planet would always hold a warm place in my heart—if I still had one, that is. It was a colony like the one on Kalvarg that Sapale and I populated with her people. We started that colony a few years after the mass exodus from the doomed planet Earth. Before Jupiter took it out we managed to cram billions of humans into cored-out asteroids and send them in search of a new home. Long before they arrived at Azsuram, Sapale hatched the plan to form a new, gentler Kaljaxian society there. It worked too. After the humans finally arrived, everyone integrated well, and it thrived greatly up until the mean dogs came and blew the place to bits.

  Fortunately small pockets of Kaljaxians and humans survived the Adamant onslaught on Azsuram and were rebounding well, if somewhat slowly. I landed in what was now called Sapale City, in honor of my mate. It was the site we first settled forever ago.

  “Jon,” exclaimed Dondtrb as he gave me a huge hug, “it's been too long, my friend.”

  He was Kaljaxian and he was a peach. He served on the Council of Elders that ran the government. He was also the contractor who'd rebuilt much of the power grid after the horrible war.

  “I know. So many planets, so little time.”

  “You’re twice a billion years old, you joker. How can time be short for one such as you?”

  “The galaxy's big.”

  He hugged me again. “Well you're here now. That's all that counts. Come, let me offer you some refreshments.”

  “If it’s all the same, why don't we walk and talk. I'd like to see how the place is coming along.”

  “Excellent idea. Where shall we go?”

  “Toward the central square.”

  “The central square it is. You want to see your statue again, don't you?” Dondtrb tried not to smile.

  “Can't get enough of it.”

  As we strolled he pointed out new construction as well as indicating where planned improvements were to be. In the century since the planet was ravaged, it had nearly healed. That was nice. It still pained me greatly that the total population was only ten percent of what it'd been before the Adamant struck. But with time the society would recover fully. That was more than could be said for many other, less fortunate planets. In an ironic twist of fate, the few remaining feral Adamant were now hunted for sport. Well, sport and maybe a little spite thrown in too. Kaljaxians were still alive who remembered the level of destruction inflicted. A few of the elderly humans actually fought in the final battles.

  “You know there's a council meeting tonight. You should come.”

  “You're kidding? Boy did I pick the wrong day to drop in.”

  “What's this?”

  “I need another stuffy waste-of-time meeting like I need rust.”

  “You'll just be sitting in the audience and watching. Sapale is the permanent council member, not you.”

  “Sure, I'll stay. But let's make it to Lake JJ and back before then, okay?”

  “You know I'm neither young nor an android?”

  “You look fine to me. I promise I won't dare you to any wagering.”

  “Done.” He held out a hand.

  The hike was nice. The ecosystem was restoring itself. I tested the lake waters and they were basically the same as they had been centuries before. Luckily few nukes had been used during the struggles on Azsuram.

  After a leisurely meal I went with Dondtrb to the council meeting. I initially sat in the far left back corner, but as soon as I was recognized I was forced by popular demand to sit front row center. You ever had speeches made about you? How about five? How embarrassing. The council then got down to the usual boring work. I mostly zoned out. Toward the end there was an appeal of a judicial ruling. That in and of itself wasn't unusual. If the courts decreed something, it stuck unless the loser appealed to the council. Reversals were rare, but it was a safety check Sapale had incorporated into the charter right from the start.

  The case was an eye-opener. A man named Paqualtif was convicted of murdering his brood's-mate, Konradue. He maintained through the entire investigation and trial he loved her and did not do it. No body was ever found.

  The head of the council was a fair-minded woman named Loquereta. She began the appeal hearing. “Master Paqualtif, you stood for trial
on the charge of murdering your brood's-mate. The court found you guilty of that heinous act and sentenced you to life in prison. State your appeal.”

  Clearly frightened and thoroughly broken, Paqualtif spoke quietly. “Nobody listens to me. I did not kill my brood’s-mate. I loved her. We have five young children. They loved her. I could never take their mother away from them. Who will raise them if I'm in jail? I beg of you to hear me. Where is her body? I need to know whatever became of her. I owe it to her to find the guilty party. I demand feltiph. How can she relax beyond the veil if it is denied?”

  Feltiph is best translated as point of honor in their language. It's a big deal in Kaljaxian culture. Many duels have been fought because someone felt feltiph was impugned.

  “I hear you,” Loquereta said evenly. “I hear your pain. I do not, however, hear remorse. Generally appeals to this council are for leniency. It is granted based on the perpetrator's expression of guilt and remorse. You offer none.”

  “How can I beg lenience for a crime I did not commit?” He was beginning to sound hysterical.

  “We are not a trial court. That phase of your case is complete.”

  “I know Davdiad is with me. He has sent a sign. Please allow me to plead my innocence.” He was wringing his hands so hard I half expected he'd squeeze blood from them.

  Another sorry jerk who offed his spouse. Only then does he see his god. The jerk even invokes him or her as witness to his …

  “I beg the great father of our planet Jon Ryan to hear my appeal. Davdiad has clearly sent him for that single purpose.”

  Oh crap. More near-divinity thrown my direction. I sure didn't feel appointed or anointed by Davdiad when I snuck off on this drinking trip that morning.