“Yes,” Jeff sobbed and pressed his father’s head against his chest. He breathed in his father’s familiar smell. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this voice, which he knew so well. This couldn’t be a hologram. This wasn’t a deception. This was Frank Austin. Flesh and blood.
“I’m so sorry,” his father said.
Jeff wiped the tears from his eyes. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Dad. Nothing at all.”
“Oh yes there is. I didn’t know, I didn’t want it.”
“What do you mean?”
A stray tear ran down his father’s cheek. “I’m so sorry you’re dead, too. I’m so sorry you’re also in hell.”
Jeff’s felt his stomach cramp. “I’m not… you’re not…” He swallowed. “We’re not in hell.”
“It’s hard to come to terms with,” his father said, his voice thick with tears. “The sooner you realize you’re dead and in hell, the sooner you’ll accept it.”
“No, Dad. I’m not dead. And nor are you.”
Frank Austin shook his head. “I saw it, Jeff. I felt it. The Quagma bomb on Deneb-6. I felt the heat consuming my body. I could feel my soul leaving my body. I was hovering over the inferno together with all the other souls that died. Together we flew into the red tunnel and together we were born again here. To suffer eternal damnation in hell.”
Jeff shook his head. His mind was racing. How the hell had his dad come from Deneb-6 to this ship? How could he explain this to him? That he wasn’t in hell but inside an alien spaceship that had somehow captured him.
“Dad, do you trust me?”
“Of course, son,” Frank said without the slightest hesitation.
“I’m not in hell. You’re not in hell. We are inside a huge spaceship.” His father looked at him incredulously. Jeff pointed to his shipmates who were lined up behind him. “These are the crew members of the bomber Charon. Our ship was damaged. We had to abandon it and were picked up by a huge alien ship. And we ended up in this hell, which…”
Frank began to sob again. “Oh, Jeff. It’s different for everyone. Everyone arrives in hell in a different way. It seems so unreal. When it’s fast, you barely even notice you’ve died. Probably your ship was destroyed and you all came here together.”
Jeff shook his head. “Our ship was destroyed,” he said softly but firmly. “But we weren’t killed.”
“No, Jeff. I know how it is. The spirit looks for a way out. It takes time until you accept the inevitable. You’re dead and your soul is in hell. And here we will be punished together for all eternity for our sins.”
Jeff closed his eyes. He felt a painful throbbing behind his temples. None of this could be true! How the hell had his father ended up on this alien ship? He began to wonder if he was losing his mind. Or had he lost it already? Could his father be speaking the truth? Had their ship been shot down in the attack on Acheron-4? Had everything that had happened been an illusion, a hallucination, which his mind had used to alleviate his descent into hell?
He opened his eyes again and looked at Frank. The kind, blue eyes. The smile lines around his eyes.
No! His father wasn’t a sinner. If there was one man in the universe who deserved salvation and paradise, it was his father. He had always put others before himself: his family, his friends, his work colleagues. And he had been one of the few people who still attended church regularly.
No, Jeff didn’t know what game was being played here. But he was not dead, and this place certainly was a kind of hell, but not hell itself.
“Do you trust me?” Jeff asked again.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“Then come with me and let me prove to you that this is not hell!” Jeff was sobbing now himself.
“Oh, Jeff. That won’t be possible.”
“Why not?”
His father turned his gaze to the right, where the pyres were standing. “They won’t allow it,” he said quietly. “And they’re right. I deserve to suffer.”
“No!” Jeff began to cry in earnest now. “I will not accept it. I—”
A hand grabbed his arm and jerked him aside. Jeff landed face-first on the rock and hit his head hard. He put a hand up to his forehead and felt blood running through his fingers. Castle helped him get up.
He saw the man who had dragged him away pulling his father to the nearest stake. The three women had already been tied to the other wooden stakes. They were all staring blankly into the distance as if they had surrendered to their fate. Several men holding burning torches stood ready and waiting in front of the pyres.
Rage welled up in Jeff. Without conscious thought, he ran after his father’s torturer, pulled his pistol from his holster, aimed, and fired. He hit the burly man in the back. A woman standing on the other side was suddenly covered in blood and bits of brown tissue. Jeff rushed forward and grabbed Frank’s arm before the falling man pushed him down with him. The other men cried out in anger. One of them grabbed Jeff by the arm and he struggled to free himself from his grasp. A woman tried to grab his father. Jeff shot her down. He felt as if someone had switched him onto autopilot. All that mattered now was saving his father’s life.
Another man stood in his way. He was holding a heavy club and swinging it over his head, ready to strike. There was a shot, and the man’s skull exploded above the nose. Green had hit him in the back of the head.
“Jeff, you can’t do that!” Frank gasped, but ran with him.
“Trust me!” Jeff screamed. “I’m going to get us out of here.”
More shots were fired, and several men and women fell to the ground. Others weren’t deterred, and stormed toward them. There were too many of them.
“Run!” Shorty screamed, as he fired another shot.
“Fuck this,” Green cursed, running toward the exit, which was just a few hundred feet away.
The attackers were close on their heels, but with their bare feet, they couldn’t run as fast across the rocky terrain as Jeff and his shipmates in their boots. Only Frank screamed in pain. Jeff pulled him on, regardless. Better for him to have injured feet than to die.
They reached the stairs. Green and Castle ran ahead. Mac cursed the whole time.
“No, Jeff!” his father screamed. “Don’t go any further. We’re not allowed there.”
“Trust me,” Jeff said, pulling Frank along behind him despite his father’s increased resistance. They almost both fell. The first attackers had reached the steps but stopped in front of them. They, too, seemed afraid of doing something forbidden—whoever it might be that had forbidden them.
The others had reached the door and were waiting.
“We’re not allowed in,” his father screamed again. “It’s not allowed.” He put his arms around Jeff’s chest so tightly, he could hardly breathe.
“Help me!” Jeff hissed.
Mac grabbed Frank Austin by the arms and pulled him away. Jeff was able to free himself and grabbed his legs.
“It’s going to be OK. You’ll see!”
“No!” His father howled as if in fear of his own life. “He’ll punish us.”
Finally, they reached the plateau. Mac dragged Jeff’s father through the door and into a lobby, which—like the one through they had entered the cavity—was covered in hieroglyphs and drawings.
“Who will punish us, damn it?” Jeff gasped.
“HE will!” his father screamed. “HE will punish us.”
Suddenly Jeff’s hands, which were still clutching at his father’s ankles, were burning. The pain made him cry out. He let go and staggered back.