Sons of Abraham: Terminate (15 page)

              “Ladies and Gentlemen of Pinnacle,” Queen Reanna Devin shouted.  “Thank you for humbling us with your presence on this fine morning.  As you well know, the men before you were found guilty of slaving, a crime punishable by death.”

              The crowd booed at the mentioning of the crime.

              “The stranger you see before you is Agent Nathan Calloway, from the Interplanetary Investigative Unit on Earth, and acting Military Advisor for Common Law.”

              A small percentage of the crowd clapped.

              “I have asked Agent Calloway to witness our execution, to show that we will never bow to the foulness that plagues our sister worlds.  We do not enjoy what we have been forced to do, but the laws of the home world of the condemned have left us little choice but to take justice into our own hands.  Take a moment and look at the foul creatures before you.”

              The crowd hissed and booed as they stared down the men in the clear chambers.  Nathan turned as well, noting the thick, metallic boxes that lined the top and bottom of the chambers.  There were only three, leaving the prisoners to share their murder boxes with one another.  At that moment, Nathan realized that the crowd was looking to him as well, still hissing and booing.  He doubted his placement was a mishap, though he backed up several paces, leaving a clear view for the crowd.  He focused on the eyes of the people in the front row, breathing a sigh of relief that their gaze hadn’t followed him.

              “Sons of Mesa,” Reanna continued, turning to the prisoners.  “Under the watchful eyes of our Lord, our people, and our Overseers, you have been known to attempt the forceful taking of our people, your intentions to turn our citizens into slaves to be sold on the markets of your foul world.  Do you have any proof to state otherwise?”

              The men in the boxes began to shout, but the thickness of the clear panels did not allow for sound to penetrate.  Somehow, Nathan knew the question was a weak formality, someone’s sick joke against the wicked.   To the Agent’s surprise, the Queen turned her dark eyes towards him.  Her eyes were thickly lined with black makeup, her dress as dark with tiny sequins that sparkled in the morning sun.  Her brow furrowed as she looked down upon him.

              “Agent Calloway,” she shouted.  “You are a man of the Common Law.  A bond shared amongst the many planets that mankind calls home.  At this time, I will allow for you to speak on their behalf, and towards the behalf of the Common Law.”

              Nathan nearly dropped a load in his pants as he realized how unprepared he was to make a formal speech.  His face mirrored the expression of the Queen, a sarcastic symbol of gratitude towards her offering.  He turned slowly, trying to stall as his mind searched for the correct words.

              “People of Eden,” he shouted.  “I apologize for being a lawman, and not a public speaker.  I’ve shared an audience with Queen Reanna Devin and pled the case for Common Law to be acknowledged.  Your Queen, however, has shown me the error in Common Law, which would send these slavers back to Mesa for trial.”

              The crowd hissed at the mentioning of returning the slavers to their home.  Nathan waited for them to settle before continuing.

              “However, as your Queen as pointed out, there are too many witnesses to their crime to require a trial, under the law of Eden.  As an I.I.U. Agent, I am bound by the laws on which the crime is committed, first and foremost.  Therefore, I have no choice but to allow for this execution to take place.”

              The crowd cheered, forcing the front policemen to turn and quiet the people.  Nathan raised a hand and waited for silence.

              “However, I must speak on behalf of MY people.  In a sense, all of our people.  There was a time, on the home world to all people, in which the condemned were inflicted with justice with no form of trial.  Over the years, the people cried out for mercy, for the opportunity to prove their innocence.  The centuries passed, showing more and more countries that adopted the formal trial, placing the accused before the mercy of a trusted court.  In some countries, the guilt or innocence of the accused was determined by a jury, consisting of their own peers.  This system was adopted in multiple countries, and stood for centuries as the cornerstone of the Criminal Justice System.”

              Nathan half-turned, looking back and forth from the condemned, to the Queen, and to the crowd.

              “I will not attempt to state that these men are innocent. The Overseers having documented videos of the crimes and showed them to me yesterday.  I do not speak towards their innocence, but rather to your system.  What if there were more at stake than the lives of these men?  What if there was a hand that moved them to action?  With no formal investigation having taken place, we will NEVER know the truth behind their actions.  What if this cowardly attack is merely the tip of the iceberg?  What if grander schemes have been planned for your people and your world?  While the actions of these men are unforgivable, the truth could be found through a formal investigation.”

              “We demand justice!” a woman screamed from the crowd.

              “I understand that,” Nathan replied.  “I do not mean to save these men from their punishment, only a stay of the execution to allow for a……”

              “He held a gun to my daughter’s head,” a man in the front shouted. 

              A pit formed in Nathan’s stomach.  His senses dulled as he watched the faces of the crowd, their gaping mouths melting together in a sea of anger.  The realization slapped him that he would never sway these people.  They thought with their hearts, not with their minds.  He turned to the Queen, nodded, and took several steps away from the clear chambers.

              “Very well,” Queen Reanna shouted.  “The Agent has conceded to the execution.  Under the laws of our people, I condemn these men to death.  May God have mercy upon your souls, for you shall find none here today.”

              Commander Bastiian Dayne stepped down from the shaded awning, pulling a square device from his belt.  The shield closed over his helmet as his fingers punched a command into the tablet.  A high whirl filled the air around the chambers, tiny lines of sparks snapping from the metallic boxes above and below the clear chambers. 

              The seven men looked to one another, uncertain of what was to come.  Nathan tried to look away, but his eyes were locked in horror as he noted a thin stream of blood running down the nearest prisoner’s mouth.  One by one, each of the condemned shared the same symptom.  The streams of blood ran from their noses at first, then their ears.  Two of the six screamed in pain as their eyes began to bleed, dropping to their knees and throwing their hands against their skulls.  Nathan managed to close his eyes.

              The dock offered a variety of boats from which to choose.  The beams of each appeared to be a metallic alloy though Bearden knew them to be a composite resin.  Each board had a grain pattern to it, giving the appearance of wood though silver and gray in color.  The boats were a marvel of technology, perfectly streamed lines and contours round out each vessel, some as tall as the Divinity Tower, leaving the Sargent to ponder how such a ship could stay afloat.

              The larger boats were lined with windows, their framework barely visible as the transitional plastic still remained dark, even in the setting sun.  Lights began to turn on throughout the scene, offering a soft glow upon the surface of the clear water.

              People strolled in rows as far as the makeshift couple could see.  The archway of the city wall opened to a gently sloping hill, and a path that led down to the docks, with several storefronts on either side.  Silver poles lined the walkway, each casting an amber glow through tinted plastic.  Janys’ hand clenched onto Rolland’s wrist as they strolled down the gentle hill.

              “It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed, her eyes aglow in the amber light.  “No wonder they draw so many tourists.”

              Bearden wanted to add to her remark, but he was focused on not hitting the back of her butt with the luggage swinging from his right hand.  They stopped at several of the stores, attempting to determine which sold tickets to the boats.  At this point, they’d rather lose the last of their money than risk being caught sneaking onto a ship.

              “You fine young folks needing a ride?” a dark-skinned man with a large beard asked from a kiosk in front of the last storefront.

              Janys looked to the Sargent, their eyes locking for a moment as they held a silent discussion.  The smile on her thin lips was all the encouragement Bearden needed to ignore his doubts.

              “Yeah,” he started, setting the luggage in front of his feet.  “Though we’re a little short on metal right now, so go easy on us.”

              The man laughed, the white in his hair and beard glowing in the amber lights as his head moved up and down.  He wore a straw hat, far too small for his head, with a blue button-up shirt that was covered in little orange trees.  They couldn’t see through the wooden divider to see if the man was wearing any shoes.

              “I understand just fine,” the man sang.  “Besides, you two are newlyweds, right?  Can’t let the man take all your creds in one swoop.  Gotta leave some aside to spoil the lovely lady.”

              Janys smiled, her embarrassment obvious, even in the dim lighting.  Bearden tried not to frown, knowing a good salesman when he saw one.  Still, it was difficult to argue with the man in the straw hat. 

              “Now, I won’t try to sway you to those big ass ships over there that look like they should be in space, rather than on the ocean,” he started, his white teeth gleaming.  “You want something smaller, a little more romantic.  I just need to know where you’re heading?”

              “The spaceport,” Bearden remarked without hesitation. 

              “Yeah, the spaceport,” Janys piled on.  “My Dad got us tickets for some nebula cruise, but we have to get there first.”

              “Oh, then you just want quick transport, none of this lazy water stuff.  I got just the thing.  If you’re quick, you can catch the boat.  Leaves in about ten minutes.”

              “How much?” Bearden asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket, feeling far too few bars. 

              “Twenty bars,” the man replied.

              “Twenty?” Janys cried out.

              “Oh, you misunderstand,” he continued.  “It’s a day’s trip to the Spaceport.  That includes your room and your meals.  However, five extra will get you some beef tonight.  Can’t help but notice you two looking very famished.”

              Bearden gladly dropped the bars on the table, leaving an extra ten on the counter.

              “John and Jane Smith,” Bearden informed him, leaning in close.  “And no I.D. check.”

              The man nodded, punching at the panel that was framed inside the counter.  Two long tickets slid out from the slot, which the man tore off and handed to the Sargent. 

              “There you go Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” he said with a beaming smile.  “And best of luck to you both.  It’s the third dock, that little blue ship next to the first big one.”

              Bearden turned, eyeing the target.  He guessed they had seven minutes and a long ways to walk before they reached the forty-foot tall sea vessel.

              “We’ll never make it,” Janys cried, trying a little too hard to sound upset.

              “Don’t you go worrying you’re pretty red-head,” the man told her.  “That ticket just transferred to the ship, so the Captain knows to wait.”

              Janys leaned over the counter and quickly pecked the man’s cheek.  The man nodded, watching the couple disappear amongst the crowd.

              “Geez, at least, I only LOOKED at other women,” Bearden muttered, shifting the weight of the luggage.

              Janys smacked his shoulder as they walked down the hill, careful to swing out to the right of a still crowd, placing the group between themselves and the port authority.  The two dark men wore white, short-sleeved dress shirts, with black pants and hats, gazing out into the crowds with rifles sweeping the ground.  Both men were horribly underweight, their skin pulled taunt against their bones, gazing disapprovingly at people who talked a little too loudly.

              “Shit!” Janys hissed.

              She darted in front of the Sargent, grabbed his hair exposed under his hat, and drew him in close.  Before he could protest, her lips were locked onto his.  His eyes peeked out the corner, catching sight of the driver they’d stolen the vehicle from earlier.  He was led up the hill by three men, all wearing suits that were all too familiar to him.  He kept his gaze on the group, though his lips released, finding hers once more.  The Corporal’s lips were thin but wide and strong, hungrily grasping onto his as they avoided the gaze of the patrol.  Her hand pushed up against the back of his hat, tilting the brim over his face as they embraced.

              Unable to see the crowd, Rolland closed his eyes, attempting to enjoy the artificial kiss.  Her fingers dug into the back of his hair as she pressed against him, leading him to wrap his arms around her tiny waist and draw her in.  He counted to ten, then pulled away.