by Candace Sams
“You foolish, wonderful man,” Nova muttered under her breath. “No one will help you.”
The miners, merchants, and the rest of the crowd would stand by and watch him die. Just as they’d stood by and watched while her father, mother, and other several other brave miners had met their fates.
Indeed, her parents had been among the first and the last citizens to defend their small colony. After that initial example of power and control, the slugs owned them all. She sighed and felt deep pity for this stranger among them. Surely he was new to this world, or he wouldn’t have been so valiant. It was an unfortunate fact that the defender’s death would not only be excruciating, it would be degrading. Prometheus would see to that. He’d make the brave man an example.
“Come forward, human. Let me see you.”
The bold man in their midst did as the slug asked, and finally pushed his hood back. He stood before Prometheus, lifted his chin, and glared into the ugly alien’s black eyes.
Nova gasped at the audacity shown. But she felt her heart leap at the show of courage few had seen for a very long time.
“Ah, the new gem merchant,” the slug said.
The bold man slowly smiled, then spoke loudly. “While you seem to know me, I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Our acquaintance will be short-lived. Before another hour passes, your body will hang in the town square. Then, my comrades and I will quarter you and dine on your flesh tonight,” Prometheus promised.
“I don’t think so.”
Prometheus lurched forward. “And why is that, merchant?”
“Because you’ll have to kill me first. And I don’t intend to die today. And certainly not at the hands of an oversized snail.”
The slugs behind Prometheus growled in anger.
Nova instinctively winced, but she couldn’t leave. The man standing up to the slug leader deserved to be heard. He deserved to have his final hour witnessed and remembered.
Prometheus glanced over his shoulder at his companions. “Finally, a human that’s worthy of a warrior’s death.” He turned his head back toward the tall human before him and studied the man carefully. “I think there’s a better way to deal with you. Something that will make a lasting impression.” He motioned to one of his compatriots. “Codge … come forward. It would amuse me to watch this puny human fight before we kill him.”
“I hear and obey my leader.”
The slug known as Codge walked in front of Prometheus, hissed loudly at the rebel in their midst, and drew out a long sword from a sheath at his side.
Prometheus drew one of his own swords, from among several he carried, and tossed it to the human.
As on all worlds these days, swords of all kinds were ancient weapons Limaxians carried, along with more modern side arms. Their presence struck fear in the hearts of any adversaries. It was one thing to see someone cut down with a tekion phaser. That was quick, painless, and virtually bloodless. But it was quite another to see someone beheaded. There were few sights more hideous or fearful to a crowd that an enemy wished to keep subservient. And everyone who’d witnessed such an event never forgot it. Nova had seen it too often and knew firsthand.
“Let’s see what you’re made of, gem merchant. Let’s see if you can fight a Limaxian brawler with the same courage you boast. Fight well, and I’ll kill you quickly. Fight poorly, and you’ll die shrieking in agony.”
The brave man took a fighting stance, took off his cape, and tossed it aside.
Nova still couldn’t see the stranger’s face clearly. The retreating crowd was so dense that their retreat forced her to reverse with them. But the one feature she made out were the striking green eyes of the lone human facing Codge. They were as bright as new blades of grass or buds on a tree. And even from that distance, she could see the firm set of his strong jaw, and the long black hair that flowed straight down his broad back and shoulders.
She prayed that this courageous stranger would live. That he would somehow survive what was to come. “Please, don’t let him die,” she whispered.
The brave man lifted his sword, glared at Codge, and readied himself.
Prometheus sat on a nearby metal cargo box and raised his hand. “Take him, Codge.”
Codge growled, immediately faced the human before him, and brought his sword up.
The weapon the human fighter had been given was meant for a man twice his weight. But there was room on the hilt for two hands. He balanced himself but maintained a light stance, probably so he could move quickly.
Nova put one hand to her mouth as she watched the fight unfold.
Codge lunged at his quarry and swung high. The man she immediately dubbed Green Eyes instead of just the brave man ducked and moved to the slug’s left.
Codge faced Green Eyes again and thrust forward with his entire weight.
Nova saw Green Eyes parry the sword aside and strike low. The tip of his blade nicked Codge’s stomach. A gray blotch appeared on the fighting slug’s brown shirtfront just above his enormous buckle. There was an overwhelming stench of rotting meat, and Nova knew the human had scored a minor victory.
Codge looked down at his small wound and emitted a howl of anger. Just as she was sure Green Eyes intended, the alien lunged at him blindly several times. The human dodged or parried the blows away from his body.
Nova heard a murmur from the crowd, and someone shouted out a cry on behalf of the human defender. Other people rallied and called out encouraging words.
Finally!
This was what the people needed. Someone who could take them from the depths of despair, motivate them out of their hopeless state, and join them together again. Instead of acting selfishly, they began to speak with one voice and heart. More cries came, and she saw the human fighter continue his taunting game with the oversized, slimy savage.
As Codge repeatedly attempted to regain a position of power, Green Eyes removed each effort with one expert blow after another. Soon, Nova saw the huge slug begin to tire. He became clumsy, and his ill-timed strikes were further misdirected because of his uncontrolled anger.
“I thought you said you could fight,” Green Eyes taunted. “I’ve scraped things from the bottom of my boot with more class than you.”
Enraged by the insult, Codge bellowed and lunged uncontrollably.
Green Eyes knelt on one knee, letting the slug’s blade miss him by inches. And before the creature could recover and deliver one more strike, Green Eyes turned his blade sideways and cut deeply into the mucous-coated body. Gray blood gushed forth.
Green Eyes stood, backed away, and kept his sword up. But the fight was over. Codge was down on both knees, his sword lay on the ground, and his appendage-like hands gripped his ugly wound.
Prometheus slowly stood. He walked toward his fallen comrade and looked down. “Codge … get up and finish him.”
“I-I can’t, my leader. My wound prevents it.”
Prometheus snarled, withdrew another sword from a sheath on his back, and swung it once.
Everyone watched as the slug leader’s minion lost his head. It rolled in the dust of the street. Women near Nova screamed in horror; she wasn’t one of them. Green Eyes had surely sealed his fate in the most horrifying way. Prometheus would never kill him quickly now, not when the embarrassment of such a defeat had been witnessed. And not when the leader of the slugs had to slaughter one of his own cutthroats to reassert his position.
Prometheus circled the body of his comrade while glaring at the crowd. He slowly turned his attention back to the human who’d succeeded in rallying the people. He pointed the tip of his sword at Green Eyes. “You’ll pray for death, human. You’ll know the meaning of agony before this day is done.” He looked at the other slug present and issued a severe order. “Cell disrupter—on stun.”
Nova and the crowd quickly backed away once more. She stared at the helpless green-eyed warrior and sent a prayer for him to the Creator Goddess. Their hero turned to face the slug to which Prome
theus had spoken.
Green Eyes bravely charged the second slug, but not before that gray hulk pulled a side arm and fired. Nova flinched and physically lurched when the hero’s entire body convulsed. He’d received the full brunt of the electrocuting stunner. In an instant he lay quite still. There’d be worse done to him this night. Tears filled her eyes.
The courageous, green-eyed combatant would indeed wish himself dead, and very soon. She and everyone around her knew what would happen. They’d all seen it before. In this instance, however, the horror would be inflicted on someone who’d stood up for someone else. Just as her parents had.
Prometheus turned on the crowd with his cellular disrupter drawn. “No one leaves. No one.”
Nova watched as the slug leader and his assistant dragged the limp human fighter by the arms to two granite support columns located in front of one of the stores Like all the others on that block, the columns had been charred by similar activities as what would soon take place. The unconscious man was pulled into a standing position. His wrists were then strapped to the columns.
“Wait until he regains his wits. I want him awake,” the slug leader commanded.
Nova put her hands to her face when Prometheus grabbed the front of the green-eyed stranger’s shirt and pulled it off with one swift move. She still couldn’t see the human’s face because his head lolled forward. But his upper body was perfection. The muscle of his pectoral area, his biceps, and abdomen looked as though they’d been sculpted from metal. His tanned skin glowed in the light of the Delta Seven sun. And though the leader of the pirate slugs told the humans not to leave, they all still backed away. By now, there was quite a distance between the victim and the witnesses, as always. From her perspective, the helpless fighter appeared even smaller, though he still towered over men and women standing at the edge of the circle behind him.
Even if the brave man opened his eyes now she doubted she’d see their striking shade of green. That’s how far she and the crowd with her had moved away. She didn’t dare fight her way forward. There was nothing she could do now for the only brave soul among them.
“Bring me the diffuser,” Prometheus ordered his aide. “I want it set for a direct, non-spray stream. It will create the most impact against his bare flesh.”
The slug aide bowed and lumbered away to do as his leader bid.
Prometheus then put his hand on the back of the unconscious man’s head, grabbed a section of black hair, and pulled it so that his intended victim’s face was upward. “Wake up, human excrement. Wake up, I tell you!”
He slapped his captive, and Nova repeatedly shuddered when everyone else did. The fighter came awake and shook his head free from the big slug’s grasp. He struggled against the bonds holding him, but the ropes had been tied tight enough that bright red blood was now visible from his wrist wounds.
“You’re a coward,” the fighter cried out. “Your entire race is. That’s why the known universe will having nothing to do with your kind. Why don’t you untie me and fight like a warrior? Or are you afraid I’ll do to you what I did to Codge? Maybe if you lose, that other slug will take your head off, is that it? Is this the way you deal with defeat?” he ranted as he pulled at his bindings.
Nova swallowed hard and shook her head. The man was only making things harder on himself. He had no idea what was about to happen. But his loud questions—meant to encourage the crowd—infuriated Prometheus into action. She watched as the behemoth struck Green Eyes over and over. But the human stranger never cried out during the blows. With each strike to the face or body, she saw him lift his head and glare proudly at his torturer. She wished with all her heart she could see his countenance clearer, before he died. But she’d forever remember the baritone timbre of his voice. It rang out—clear, strong, and proud. He repeatedly defied the beast hitting him.
Finally, when Prometheus could withstand the taunts from his victim no longer, and his beating wouldn’t shut his captive’s mouth, the slug leader pulled out a dagger and dragged the edge of it across that beautiful torso. Blood gushed forth, and Nova’s eyes filled with tears again. She swiped at them with the sleeve of her robe and wanted to leave before watching any more. But she couldn’t. If she tried, and even managed, to get away from any pursuing slug minions, ten would be tortured in her place, just as an example to the rest.
“Someone stop him, please,” she whispered. But no one came forward. The crowd moaned in protest and many covered their faces. Mothers held children to them and tried to protect the youngest of them from seeing the hideous scene.
He lunged at the tied human before him and continued to strike him harder.
“Sir, the diffuser,” the slug aide said as he ran forward and tried to push the long, rod-like device into his leader’s hands.
Prometheus carelessly shoved his underling aside as he grabbed his final means of torture. He also grabbed up the diffuser’s attached canister, and put the butt end of the dispenser rod against his shoulder.
Before now, Nova had never stopped to wonder how or why the entire device looked so much like some ancient flamethrower. It was meant to do much the same thing with the chemicals stored in the containment canister.
She wished once again to be far away, not witnessing this horrifying event. She, like most of the women in the large crowd, cried out as Prometheus turned on the diffuser. The awful, telltale sound of a turbine starting always preceded the blast of fire plasma that followed. But she’d been running when she and the other dissenters had been hit. Only her head and back had been struck. The green-eyed stranger would take the full force of the plasma, right to his torso. He’d likely burn to death right before their very eyes. And though she’d been ordered to stay, just as everyone else, she could have looked away. Instead, pity for the man who was about to be burned stayed her fear. He deserved to be remembered. Up until he took his last breath.
As Prometheus wielded the long rod and the canister dispensing chemicals through it, she kept her eyes riveted on the courageous soul still tied and helpless in front of them all.
The stream of volcanic-like plasma shot out the end of the Prometheus’s barrel. It struck the tied figure directly in the upper torso and lit him on fire. And this time he did scream.
His agonizing cries were heard throughout the marketplace. And after the plasma hit his body and clung to it in red-hot globs, the stuff quickly went gray as it cooled. That was the worst part of what it did. The gooey substance would stay there resisting removal and searing flesh from bone. Surely he would die soon, but not before he felt every drop of the chemical seep through his skin. He had the sense to put his head down when he saw the blast coming. That meant he’d either heard of fire plasma or his act was simply one of instinct; Nova couldn’t tell which. But the small movement likely protected his eyes from any residual spattering. In the end, it wouldn’t matter if he got any into his eyes or throat. He’d die from the horrific burns, and more slowly because he hadn’t ingested the stuff.
She saw him writhe and pull at his ropes as he cried out in pain. Parts of the plasma went over his shoulders and were probably flung across his back. Some of the glowing and cooling gobs of chemical were even spattered down his arms and on his hands. It then caught his hair on fire. The long, once-lovely sheen of thick black locks began to smoke.
While it would have been better for him to take the plasma head-on, and stand totally still so he’d breathe it in and end his life quickly, how could anyone do so? She hadn’t been able to. The pain was too great; the instinct to shake if off was primal.
Some of the chemical landed on the rope binding him. He fell from his tied position and began rolling in the dust of the street, trying to be free of the substance burning his flesh. It now slid downward and began to burn away clothing. He clawed at the globules but it did no good. Nova remembered the pain, and felt hot tears fall down her cheeks. No one should have to die like this. No one.
Prometheus turned to the crowd.
Nova kept
her gaze lowered and pulled her hood more closely to her head. This was the part where they were all warned again. She’d seen and heard the speech so often.
“Let no one come near him. Anyone who does so will suffer the same fate.”
The slug leader slowly ambled away. But as he got near his aide, he loudly muttered, “Let him lie here so the people can see him. When curfew comes, take his body to the hole and dump it along with Codge’s.”
The aide bowed. “Yes, my leader.”
Nova wept harder now. The figure writhed helplessly, and everyone was inflicted with his screams, but there was nothing anyone could do. His brown pants and tall boots were melting right into his skin. He was so far away, but she felt closer to him at that moment than she’d ever felt to another living soul. Not just because she’d been exposed to the plasma herself, but because this brave man had been so abused and no one helped. That included her.
Once the crowd was finally allowed to leave, they did so in great masses. No one wanted to see more than they had.
She stealthily crept back to her little, hidden cave, sobbing with each step.
There was no hope left. The next transport crews, whether they were offloading supplies or picking up gems, would be severely restricted to the airfield outside of town. The population who’d witnessed the carnage wouldn’t be allowed to speak to anyone working aboard those shuttles. Prometheus wouldn’t allow witnesses to testify as to his brutality.
She knew what everyone else did, even if no one spoke it. They were, more than ever before, truly alone.
• • •
Marcos could no longer move. His pleas for help went unheard, and the plasma kept burning. He groveled in the dirt and scooped handfuls of dust over his flesh, in an attempt to stem the fire.
