Tamer’s grandfather once told him that in ancient times, the sky only held stars and moons. Standing on an ocean-side cliff he couldn’t imagine the void of space without thousands of ships flittering between the planets in a dancing constellation of a thousand wanderers. He raised his arms towards the sky and tried to pick the lights out of the sky as he had when he was a child. This was the time for little joys. He couldn’t bear to look at his family during his last night.
Tamer walked down the cliff shedding clothing. He’d been advised not to dirty himself on pain of a thorough scouring, but any further points of suffering were moot to him and he wasn’t about to make it to daylight without feeling the sand against his skin.
Despite his want to savor, Tamer broke into a full run on the sand with all due greed for sensory input. He dove into the water too shallow, scraping his belly against the sand, and it was great. Tamer swam as hard as he could manage and a little voice in the back of his mind thought if you go far enough they can’t catch you and you can escape. It helped him go farther out than he’d ever gone.
His maddened hope became sudden terror when something bumped him in the dark water. Tamer stopped mid-stroke and looked around. He was softly rammed backwards and he grabbed onto his attacker to bring it up to the surface. It yielded easily; it was only a bubble-eyed seal. The creature melted Tamer’s heart and he let it go so it could “save” him as they had been taught to do.
Tamer waded back to shore and fell into the sand. They could come and wake him if they wanted him so bad.
***
“The last murder in the whole of our world was over fifty years ago,” said the Inspector-General of the planet. He was wearing a black cap with a wide crescent brim that cast a shadow over his face in the spotlight and helped hide the nervous sweat on his brow.
“Last night, as twilight descended upon the land, we received an emergency communication from our last deep-space exploration team who left the galaxy a decade ago to better map the known universe. As part of every deep-space mission, they left buoys behind to communicate with the rest of us down here, and so they have not remained in the dark.
“The emergency communication was a brief clip that showed a tremendous amount of violence towards the team. We have identified the assailants and their home planet.
“It is thus my duty to authorize our retaliation, and the law is clear: Blood for blood, life for life, death for death.”
The Inspector-General clapped his hands together in front of him and another spotlight appeared further down from the pedestal he was standing on. There was a naked man, skin raw from repeated cleanings and shivering in the cold air of the court.
“And so I speak today to the peoples of all nations to mourn one more death—we mourn the murder of an artisan by the Lord of Destruction. I hope only that his fury will find the aliens that harmed our explorers and give their kin the full measure of grief that they have given us.”
Police officers in gray stepped out from the shadows into the man’s spotlight and gave him tight black clothing that he put on slowly. The Inspector-General could hear the telescoping eyes of the thousand cameras in the room look at this man in gruesome detail as the murder ritual began.
“As for this last victim, the viciousness of that Dark King knew no bounds. He was found with several horrifying wounds, firstly with his chest collapsed and his torso gutted,”
A team of doctors lifted his shirt and he was laid down. With several quick machines they surgically scooped out several of his organs and replaced them with cybernetic ones. He would not need to eat nor concern himself with breathing. These machine parts would be much harder to break, and the doctors riveted plates of heavy armor across his ribcage before sewing him up.
“His back was also flayed,”
They flipped him over and cut along the spine. They brought a metal-worker to fit vertebral armor to his spine.
“And there were signs of a severe struggle, according to the bruises left all over the rest of his body.”
The doctors pounded several rivets directly into his flesh all along the man’s body.
“There was no doubt it was the Dark King, for who could not know his unmistakable greaves, his bladed gauntlets, his accursed breastplate and sharp pauldrons?”
The man was slowly fitted with pieces of armor that were punched into the plugs in his skin; the armor fit him better than any suit he’d ever worn. He was allowed to move freely as the machinery came to life and lights blinked. It was adjusting.
“But it was determined that it was ultimately strangulation that did the artisan in, as he came face to face with the Dark King, and the golden eyes of hate burned into the very soul of that poor man.”
He was handed a helmet, given a moment to look into the glowing ‘eyes’ of its optics, and put it on. The armor made a very loud click as it shut itself tight.
“Tamer Taungis, we hope your death was not in vein. We will search for your killer, but until we find him you may rest assured that your family and children will have no want of aid.
“And to the King of Killers: A thousand curses more upon you! May you never grace our land alive again!”
With that, the lights turned off and Tamer slipped out of the Assembly like a thief in the night. The ritual had ended, and he was now his own killer.
***
Hugh knew he should have stayed home but his conscience wouldn’t let him.
He was head operator for the mass driver. The technicians had all reported some synchronization irregularities in the morning and he normally would have investigated and wrapped it up before sundown, but the facility had been ordered to close warm for the night so they could watch the Assembly announcement.
Hugh left as soon as the broadcast was over that he could spare no time in fixing the error, so he zipped down to the control array and found himself face-to-face with a glaring adjustment error. Knew it, no problem, I can fix that. Hugh punched a few keys, dialed in a few knobs, and clapped when he got an all green. That done, he turned on his heel to leave the room when someone walked in.
The wallscreen in Hugh’s home was not always the best reproducer of details, certainly no replacement for the experience of being there. In the instance of the broadcast, however, it had failed completely to capture the full sight of the King of Killers. The armor was not black, but iridescent, and it caught its own lights beautifully that he looked like he was clad in an alloy made of rainbows.
In the back of Hugh’s mind he knew that this wasn’t a mythical figure, just a very determined man in very specific hardware. He knew that the man was reasonable, spoke the same language, and had friends just like Hugh did. Still, it wasn’t easy for him to stare down the planet’s official bogeyman without trembling a bit, so he did the first thing that came to mind.
“Hello?”
The King stood there for a few seconds before producing a terrible growl. Hugh shrunk back, and the King began looking around for something. He came upon a piece of paper and a pen, jotted something down, and handed it to Hugh.
Control panel?
Hugh pointed at the master control panel. The King nodded and with an open palm put in launch coordinates. He gestured for the piece of paper back and Hugh obliged.
Which way to the loading platform?
Hugh explained the way, but clarified that there were no pods currently loaded. The King nodded again and patted him on the back. Hugh was stunned as the King left the room.
The mass driver was a large electromagnetic cannon designed to shoot ships and satellites up into space. Hugh watched the loading platform camera turn on to warn against wandering personnel and turn off just as quickly with a beeping ‘override’ in the corner. The platform raised to meet the base of the cannon, and the entire facility hummed as the electromagnets began charging.
The King of Killers was gone in a screaming flash.