Illegal King

by Mason Dakota

  “We were told the convention was about global long-term peace, but…” She trailed off. There was something of fear in her voice, a quivering between words.

  “Emperor Adam Rythe has titled the current meeting, The Outcast Problem,” Erikson said.

  “What?” Michael asked.

  Chamberlain grunted.

  I just tried to breathe.

  “Listen to this,” said Erikson. I heard some fidgeting around and then all of a sudden I could hear whatever Alison and Erikson were observing.

  “Gentlemen,” started Emperor Adam Rythe, “Thank you for traveling all this way to be here today. Your commitment is much appreciated.”

  “You’ve risked a lot bringing us here, Adam. Our securities advisers have all advised against this meeting—especially in this location. I am only here in hopes that this meeting proves quite profitable to us,” said another voice, an elderly woman’s voice.

  “Unless we’ve been gathered together so he can kill us,” said a man with a deep bass and a foreign accent.

  “I believe my reputation testifies that if I intended to kill you, then you would already be dead. I will allow you to assume the first option…and pray the second never comes to pass,” said Adam. I could imagine the smile upon his face.

  He continued, “No, I have brought you here to establish unity on a singular, global initiative. Your societies mimic my own in the segregation of Outcasts and Nobles with your unique variations of limitations and restrictions, though I will judge to say some of you have shown great strides of weakness in comparison to my own regulations. This chaotic species creates great frustrations as they resist submission and respond to our superiority with violent and destructive means. Our histories are marked by actions to maintain current species relations and enforce genetic superiority at the cost of future advancement of our own people. Chicago is a testimony to that truth. Administration focuses more on maintaining the Outcast population and problems than advancement. This has resulted in leadership changes, anarchists, terrorist attacks, and even the incident last night of Outcasts burning the headquarters for Noble law.”

  “Have you assembled us to ask for help controlling a few Outcasts, Adam?” asked a third voice in another foreign accent. Few people in the room chuckled and the speaker continued, “A city in this much turmoil on the fringes of your border would certainly cause much fear if the warlords to the north were ever to reunite. My intelligence network tells me a single Outcast in this city is responsible for much of your problems.”

  Adam will kill that man for such an insult.

  I knew it would be true.

  Another brief, heavy silence and then Adam Rythe said, “Rebellion has existed within your own borders long before rearing its ugly head in my own. My strict laws and regulations for Outcasts, laws which you failed to take my advice and establish for your own people, have stalled this day from coming. Yet this toxicity is spreading across the globe. The smaller nations once a part of our coalition have already fallen, and we are seeing a resurgence of Outcasts in global leadership—unseen since the days of the Abandoned War. I won’t deny the existence and troubles in my land to radical Outcasts. They’re Noble-killers who inspire others to follow their examples. Do not mistake my words, war has come to our doorsteps unless we act. Pockets of resistance have sprung up all across the globe, led by radicals and terrorists. As I speak, an Outcast by the name of Griffon Nightlock has engineered a lethal virus only infectious to our genetic code and intends to unleash his plague upon this city’s Noble population as we speak.”

  There was a gasp in the room and the elderly woman’s voice spoke in my ear, “That…must be impossible.”

  “I wish it were so, madam. Victims are turning up all across Chicago as we speak. My men are working diligently to eliminate this virus and those responsible.”

  “If this got out…it would destroy everything we have built. What are we to do about it?” asked the second man in his deep bass voice.

  This was what Adam wanted. He wanted these leaders afraid and submitting to his direction. I nearly trembled in fear of what I might hear next.

  “The time has come, my fellow leaders, to lead this world in a new direction, to advance this planet’s greatest good. The time has come for us to eliminate the Outcast species.”

  Someone gasped and asked, “You can’t be serious, Adam! The entire species?”

  “For years you have each ignored my leadings, but now the evidence speaks for itself. The fight for our survival as a species has begun. Uprisings will only continue to increase as long as we allow their existence. We cannot have global long-term peace when threats like this grow on a daily basis. What I suggest here today is the genocide of the Outcast species. We did it once on a small scale, many decades ago, with the tiny population of Illegals and it proved both effective and long-lasting. Now I propose we do it again on a much bigger scale. Hundreds of millions will die, but it will mean global peace. We have shared this world with the intentions of peace with them only to face assaults on our species long enough. The time has come to act. The time has come to be brave and willing to do what is necessary for peace. Will you join me in this crusade?”

  The noise cut out and I heard some ruffling noises before Alison said, “Did everyone hear that?”

  “He plans to start a war,” gasped Evelyn between breaths as she held me up.

  “No…this is about genocide,” whispered Michael.

  “And he’s using Griffon to justify it,” said Chamberlain.

  What did I do to be the cause of a war between species?

  Eighty-One

  Right then the pieces fitted together in my mind.

  Adam Rythe was a dangerous man, more cunning than I imagined. Thirty years ago he had ordered the genocide of the small population of Illegals and now he intended to do it again with Outcasts.

  He knew of the virus, had the cure already, and likely was the one who ordered its secret creation and allowed my father to spread it. As Noble led nations grew sick with the virus, he would hold the cure over their heads and use it to inspire submission to his desires for the genocide of my people.

  My father, meanwhile, consumed by rage, didn’t see how he played into Adam’s hand. Despite his skill and tact, he didn’t see how Adam wanted him to take the virus, wanted him to try to use it. He had led my father to this breaking point and the moment my father released that virus he would find Adam already had the cure ready for widespread treatment and the fuel he needed to convince a world that the time for Outcasts was over.

  I had been played right into the middle of their little game, more fuel for the fire for Adam’s crusade and a weak distraction for my father. If my father released that virus, it was no longer a matter of Nobles facing genocide, but my own people! Without the virus there would be opposition from Nobles against genocide, but with the virus out there and exposed, there wouldn’t be a single Noble unwilling to follow Adam’s directives.

  “Dear God,” I whispered as it all came crashing together in my mind. We were but pawns playing right into the hands of pieces far bigger than we.

  Suddenly alarms started ringing, both in our corridor and wherever my friends all were.

  “They’ve found us! Griffon, you need to hurry! Find your father and stop him before it’s too late,” said Chamberlain. I could tell he had pieced the mystery together at this point.

  “Faster,” I harshly whispered to Evelyn.

  “You’re welcome to switch,” grumbled Evelyn beneath my arm. “Any help would be appreciated.”

  Fear and adrenaline pumped through my veins and I hobbled off her, putting more and more painful pressure on my leg and hurrying forward in a half step, half hop manner. We stumbled down various vacant hallways and open spaces as fast as we could manage.

  We weren’t fast enough.

  Soldiers were heard behind us.

  “You’ve got a squad of four on your trail. Take the left! There’s another squad coming from yo
ur right,” shouted Michael.

  Following orders, we darted to the left. My lungs ached in agony. There was a hot burning sensation in my leg and a feeling of bone scraping bone inside my arm with each movement. Light sparkled in my vision like fireworks each time I saw a fluorescent bulb. Something twisted in my gut and it took using my free hand to brace myself against the wall to avoid falling over. I continued to press on as fast as I could manage. It took everything in me to keep going and to keep fighting.

  Stopping meant death.

  “Go thirty yards and then take the door on your right,” said Michael.

  I heard a scuffling through the ear bud followed by a series of loud bangs. “I can’t hold them off forever, Griffon. You must hurry,” said Chamberlain.

  I let Evelyn barge open the door, sparing myself extra pain. We entered some sort of newly operating electrical room where we cut between large machines.

  “They’re gaining on you!” Michael said over the line.

  I heard voices of a small army approaching behind us. It was getting closer.

  “They’re outside our doors now,” shrieked Alison.

  “There’s no way out,” panicked Erikson.

  “Hold on, Alison,” said Chamberlain. His voice was gritted and strained with effort. I imagined him holding his own door closed with his weight.

  “Michael, how close are we to the ventilation room?” Evelyn asked.

  “You’re almost there! Just keep going!” shouted Michael.

  “We’ve locked ourselves in but they’re shooting through the door,” said Alison.

  “They’re going to kill us!” screamed Erikson.

  “They’re hitting the door with a battering ram! I can’t hold this for long,” said Chamberlain.

  “How close are we?” I shouted. Everything was falling apart.

  “It’s right up ahead. Wait no, no, no!” shouted Michael.

  Suddenly four soldiers with blaster rifles flew around the corner with guns pointed right at us. We were trapped, the door right there before us.

  “Get on the ground! On the ground! Now!” shouted one of the soldiers. We stood there frozen. We had gotten so close. The door to the room my father intended to unleash his plague was to my left just a few yards away. I could never make it without being gunned down. Soldiers piled in behind us. We were surrounded. We had lost.

  I had failed.

  And the world was going to burn for my mistakes.

  I glanced upward to my right where a video camera sat on the wall. In my ear I heard soldiers finally break into the press observation room. Alison and Erikson screamed a combined sound so terrible it knotted my stomach. Chamberlain shouted his bride’s name with a wrath in his voice so deep I wondered if it caused the room to shake.

  That tore me up the most. They were here because of me, and now they would die because of me. I heard blaster fire in my ear bud.

  Game over, Griffon.

  “I need a miracle here guys,” I whispered to any who might be listening.

  “We will not ask you again! On the ground or we start firing!” shouted the soldier again. I looked at Evelyn and she looked at me. Her face was twisted in panic, unsure of what we had to do, and covered with an expression of disappointment over failing so close to the goal.

  But there was still a fire in her, deeper than any fear and disappointment could reach, one that compelled Evelyn to fight even if the fight was a hopeless one. I knew what she would do. She would make a move to get to the door, I would do the same, and we would die. With seconds left in our lives, crippled and beaten and dying, we would spend our last moments fighting.

  Then the lights went out.

  At the say time the fire alarm blared and the sprinkler system went off.

  God bless you Michael!

  Evelyn reacted faster than I did. She lunged in the dark and shoved me. Blaster rifles started firing. Red streaks flew through the air from every direction and I soared forward into the ventilation room door, catching small glimpses of soldiers and Evelyn fighting in light of each fired shot.

  Her electric asp crackled as she swung it through the air and struck battle armor. I heard her cry out with pain and fury as she fought an enemy who I couldn’t see. The soldiers mistakenly fired on each other in the dark. Blaster bolts tore through walls and ceilings and if they continued the floor might very well have collapsed.

  Shouts echoed through my ear bud. Soldiers smashed through the door Chamberlain barred. Chamberlain shouted in rage, Michael in panic. I knew they would go down and be captured or killed, ironically by those we were trying to save. The same was true for Alison and Erikson. And in that moment of hitting the door I knew I would have to leave Evelyn behind to save millions more.

  I didn’t want to leave her. I wanted to face this with her. I was too afraid to go on without her. But she was sacrificing herself right now, not for the Empire and its Nobles…but for me.

  For that, I loved her.

  And for that, I had to leave her.

  I pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind me. I locked it and turned and rested my back against it as I breathed deeply. Screams and fighting roared in my ear as all my friends were attacked. Not able to bear it, I ripped out my ear bud and threw it away.

  The blaster fire on the other side of the door remained. The longer they kept firing the longer Evelyn stayed alive. Or, at least that’s what I told myself.

  Despite the blaster fire, I heard two sets of voices echoing through the room. The assassin, Tempest Raven, and my father, the warlord.

  I was hurt. I had no clue the extent of my injuries. My right arm was broken. My left leg was useless and bleeding. My muscles moaned and screamed with each movement. And then there was the virus. Its effects on me were beyond description. I had maybe moments left of life.

  The odds were not in my favor.

  I will never leave this room.

  Only Death awaited me. Its victory was certain.

  Maybe there is still enough in me for a miracle, I thought as I looked at the blaster pistol in my left hand.

  Once again I am the only one left to save the day.

  I refused to lose. Losing meant my friends died for nothing. Losing meant a plague upon the Nobles. Losing meant a global genocidal war. Losing meant the annihilation of Outcasts. Losing would cost too much.

  You either stop this or the world’s blood is on your hands, Griffon.

  Yeah…no pressure there.

  Eighty-Two

  I hobbled into the room and kept my blaster pistol ready. My nerves were on edge. My heartbeat fluttered wildly. Sweat covered my clammy and scarred flesh. I feared the gun would slip out of my hand.

  I feared confronting my father.

  Will I actually be able to pull the trigger?

  I stumbled deeper in. The voices grew louder and more identifiable in conversation the closer I got. I crept to the edge of a corner and peeked around it at the space beyond.

  There they were, standing with their backs to me as they worked on some fifteen-foot-tall machine in the center of the room. It was made of some sort of combustion engine with a large clear cylinder containing swirling green liquid.

  It looks like a living creature!

  Connected to the large machine—or weapon I guess—were long silver tubes stretching out to different machines around the room. Wires crisscrossed all over the floor like a spider web. I’m no scientist, but I figured that the machine turned the liquid into a gas which would go down the pipes and out into the rest of the building to infect every Noble in the building. Thousands of Nobles were in the building—meaning thousands would leave to spread the virus to thousands more. The effects would be exponential and catastrophic.

  The most sobering sight was the timer on the device. It counted down. There were only four minutes left.

  Gee, I wonder what happens when the timer goes off.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to stop this.

  I leapt around the corner
and lifted my weapon to fire.

  As expected I wasn’t silent enough to get past anyone. Immediately, my adversaries spun around with their own guns. Raven held a semiautomatic pistol and Richard had his own blaster pistol. Nobody moved.

  “Griffon! My boy, you are resentful!” my father said. He lowered his weapon to his side. Raven did not.

  “It’s over Richard! The game is up! Turn the machine off,” I shouted.

  “I can’t do that, Griffon. The wheels are in motion. The timer has started and soon the virus will be released. You can’t stop this from happening. But you’re strong and smart. You’ve fought off the effects of the virus admirably, like a true Nightlock. I can cure you. Then we can overthrow Adam together. He’s the one responsible not only for the suffering of our people and the killing of the Illegals, but also the death of your mother. Put the gun down and we can create a new world in our own images—not his,” Richard said.

  “Don’t you see he’s playing you? You’re only doing what he wants you to do. He’s already got the cure ready! He’s going to use this as justification to start a genocidal war against the Outcasts!” I screamed.

  “War has always been inevitable between our people. Whether I turn this machine off or not makes no difference. He might have the cure, but he won’t be able to distribute it to everyone before it spreads. Millions will still die and it will give us a fighting chance! Don’t you see? If we stop this machine, he’ll still start a war another way one day in the future only we won’t get an advantage to our survival as we do now.”

  “Committing genocide out of fear of genocide is ludicrous! Its madness!”

  He shook his head. “We live in mad times. Adam Rythe wants war, and he will get it. All I’m doing now is striking first before they kill us. I’m giving our people a fighting chance. This is hope for them! You are choosing to neglect our people a fair shot at survival. Which is worse, the one who gives hope or the one who takes it away? You know I’m right in this, Griffon. You know that without this our people don’t stand a chance. This is a fight for the planet!”