by Jake Bible
“Would you like me to do the honors, sire?” Webley asked. “Or would you prefer to be the first master in several centuries to activate this technology?”
“No, no, you do it,” Alexis said as he stumbled closer and peered directly into the lens of the camera. “Can’t risk my soul being stolen by this contraption.”
Again, Webley kept his thoughts to himself. He nodded to one of the techs and the young man began flicking switches on the stack of equipment while Webley set about turning on the camera. A slight hum and buzz could be heard as the camera warmed up then the screen on top of the equipment came to life, showing an image of Master Alexis standing there in all his drunken glory.
The master nodded and waved at the camera, amused by the immediate response on screen.
“Just like the video communications I used to speak to my daughter when she was in quarantine,” Alexis said. “Not so special really.”
Webley smiled weakly and nodded then diplomatically said, “Yes, but the image this camera catches will be beamed to hundreds of screens set up in atriums and parlors on every deck of Station Aelon. A far cry from the closed circuit connection of the communication system.”
“Same thing,” Alexis responded dismissively. “As long as the passengers get to witness the traitor’s execution then I am pleased.”
“They will, sire,” Webley said. “The only issue is there will be no sound. My deepest, deepest apologies, but the circuitry refused to behave and we found too many shorts in the wires to make it work.”
“No worries on that,” Alexis said. “As long as the people can see what happens, that is all that matters.”
“Again, sire, they will,” Webley nodded. “Where shall I set up the camera? Will it be in the main courtyard of Castle Quent?”
“No, no, no,” Alexis grinned. “That is where all the executions have been held. No, this location will be special.” He clapped his hands loudly and one of the techs squeaked with surprise. “Follow me, gentlemen. I’ll show you myself!”
* * *
The lowdecker’s mass of red hair was matted and flat against his skull as he was led towards the airlock. He kept his head down and refused to look at the nobility that had assembled in the passageway to see him die. It wasn’t until he was directly in front of the airlock door did he look up.
“Hello, Lucas,” Alexis said as the guards kept Langley just out of kicking range. “I have been looking forward to this day.”
“As have I,” Langley replied. “They are already writing songs about me. This will give the bards a fitting end to my saga.”
“Well, far be it for me to deny artists their muse,” Alexis responded. “I believe this execution will be legend for centuries to come. Shall I explain how it will go?”
“Your highness?” Stolt asked, stepping forward. “It would be more practical, and prudent, if you stood to the side and let the grand executioner take over from here.”
“Today I am the grand executioner, cousin,” Alexis stated. “Does anyone present have an issue with that?”
“Sire, please,” Stolt said. “I am not arguing with you, but I believe your weeks of grief have left you without full use of your faculties. Again, I am not arguing or trying to insult you, sire.”
“Stop sucking my ass, Stolt,” Alexis said, his sour breath nearly too powerful for the steward to bear. “I’m not going to eject you into space for trying to give me advice. I’m not my grandfather.”
“I did not mean to imply you were, your highness,” Stolt bowed. “I shall step aside and let you commence with the justice. I have been informed that the camera is operational and we are now being seen by every man, woman, and child on the station.”
“Are we?” Alexis asked as he turned to find the camera tucked to the side. He frowned and looked about the passageway. “Where is Wombley?”
“Webley, sire?” Stolt asked.
“Who?”
“Webley, the lead technician? Is that who you are asking for?”
“Right. That guy,” Alexis said.
“I’m here, your majesty,” Webley said as he pushed past the rows of nobility that blocked him. “How can I be of assistance?”
“Will the camera see what happens inside the airlock?” Alexis asked.
“No, sire, not until we wheel it forward.”
“Then do so now!” Alexis ordered. “Because now this man dies!”
Guards opened the airlock and Langley got a good, hard look at his fate. For the first time since being held captive, he actively fought against his bonds and tried to dig his feet in as he was dragged forward.
“You are an animal, Alexis!” Langley yelled as he saw the heavy chains attached to large, metal weights. In the center of the airlock was a thick post, bolted directly into the floor. “What did I do to you to deserve such cruelty?”
“You pissed me off,” Alexis stated. “Then my family died. I look at this as an exorcism of all the evil in this station. Once you are gone then all will return to normal and Station Aelon will be at peace once again.”
“You are a mad fool if you believe that,” Langley hissed as his back was forced up against the post so that he was facing the passageway. Heavy chains were strapped about his torso so that he could not budge a single inch.
“No, Langley, just a sad, tired monarch,” Alexis admitted. “I hope this act will be enough to let me rest once again.”
Langley started to argue, but a guard punched him in the mouth, sending the last couple of teeth he had left clattering to the floor. Alexis did not protest at the man’s treatment, in fact he seemed to revel in it.
The nobility in attendance shifted nervously as they watched the guards attach the chains around Langley’s forearms and calves. Alexis glanced over his shoulder to see what reception the rebel leader’s treatment was getting and was disappointed by the preponderance of frowns.
“Cheer up, you lot!” Alexis yelled. “This is a celebration!”
Forced smiles bloomed like mold on week old bread and Alexis shook his head in frustration.
“Never can please the nobility,” Alexis muttered to himself. “Father was right. There’s no use trying.”
Finished securing Langley to the post, and the chains with weights to his arms and legs, the guards exited the airlock and closed and sealed the door. The porthole into the airlock wasn’t large enough for the crowd to see in so they all turned their attention to the boxy screen set up just to the side. Alexis, however, moved forward and peered through the porthole, his eyes locking with Langley’s one last time.
“Your highness?” Webley said from behind him. “I need to place the camera now.”
“Of course, Wombley,” Alexis said. “My apologies.”
There were barely contained gasps at the monarch’s apology to a commoner, but all quickly shut up when Alexis turned towards the crowd. He bowed to all then placed his attention squarely on the screen while his hand was squarely on the airlock release lever.
“All set, Wombley?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, sire,” Webley replied. “The subject is in focus and the camera is broadcasting. It is all in your hands now.”
“Isn’t it always,” Alexis said under his breath. He looked at the assemblage and started to speak, but decided against a long speech and just slammed the lever down.
A claxon rang out as the opposite side of the airlock began to slide open onto one of the station’s few access tunnels that led outside of the atmospheric shield. Although no sound came through the airlock door, Alexis imagined he could hear the roar of the wind as the air escaped around the condemned man and was sucked out into space.
Langley’s mouth opened in an unheard scream as the weights attached to the chains were lifted into the air, pulled by the vacuum of open space. The man’s arms were yanked backwards and legs lifted at unnatural angles while his torso stayed securely in place. Langley’s extremities started to bend further until it looked like he was a child’s toy that had met some ir
responsible demise.
The crowd gasped as Langley’s right arm began to tear away from his body. The blood was instantly whisked away by the vacuum, but there was still plenty of gore as muscles started to rip and tendons popped from the brute force. Langley’s left arm joined the first, then his right leg followed by his left leg.
A few of the noblewomen, and more noblemen than would admit later, gagged and tore their eyes away from the screen, the horror too much for them. Alexis watched in fascination as one by one, Langley’s limbs ripped off of him and flew through the tunnel and out into the cold of space, forever fated to float through the System.
Alexis reached out and shoved the airlock lever back into its original position. The claxon stopped and Langley’s body sagged, held against the post only by the many chains.
“Open it,” Alexis ordered and the guards moved forward and swung wide the airlock door.
Blood dripped from Langley’s stumps as Alexis stepped inside the airlock and right up to the tortured man’s face.
“Can you hear me, traitor?” Alexis snarled. “Show me you can hear the voice of the man that has beaten you.”
“You...can...never...beat...me,” Langley whispered. “I...will...die...your...equal. History...will prove...that.”
“You flatter yourself and inflate your importance,” Alexis sneered. “History is written by the victors, not the scum like you.”
“You...assume...you...are the...victor,” Langley said, still managing a smirk.
“Finish it,” Alexis ordered as he turned abruptly and left the airlock. “Move it. Now!”
The guards dragged in one last chain and weight and affixed it around Langley’s neck. Alexis stopped outside the door and once more placed his hand on the lever. Once the guards had exited and the door was closed, he wasted no time in slamming the lever down for the last time.
No gasps, no gags, no sounds from the crowd; they stood stunned as the chain crushed Langley’s neck and sent his head flying out of the airlock. Alexis watched the flow of blood from Langley’s headless torso slow then stop altogether. When the last drop was gone, Alexis closed the airlock and walked to the porthole.
“Take it away,” he ordered and Webley did not hesitate as he removed the camera from the airlock door.
The nobility waited in silence as the master stared through the small circle of glass at what was left of his enemy.
“Your highness?” Stolt asked, finally approaching the monarch. “Shall I have the invited guests proceed to the great hall for the banquet?”
“Yes,” was all Alexis said.
Stolt did not press the issue and turned to motion for everyone to leave. None of the nobility hesitated and soon the passageway was clear except for Alexis who stood stock still at the airlock porthole.
Seconds, minutes, an hour went by without the master moving a muscle.
“Father?”
“Mmmmm?” Alexis replied as Esther walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Father, everyone is wondering where you are,” Esther said as she moved next to the man and took her own firsthand look at the bloodless torso still held to the post. “Cousin Stolt has grown worried and some of the stewards are beginning to wonder if you haven’t lost your mind.”
“Are they?” Alexis asked, tearing his attention from the airlock so he could focus on his oldest child. He looked at her face and his heart nearly broke as he saw so much of his beloved wife looking back at him. “I will assure them later that I may have lost almost everything in my life, but my mind cannot be counted within that tally.”
He frowned at Esther and looked about the passageway.
“Where’s Alexis?”
“In our quarters. With three nurses,” Esther stated. “And two physicians as you ordered he shall always be.”
“Good,” Alexis said. “That is good.”
The man stretched and cracked his neck then rolled his shoulders and smiled down on the young woman who was his daughter.
“Escort me to the banquet?” he asked.
“But of course, Father.” Esther nodded. “That is why I came to fetch you. This is a time when you need family.”
“And Helios knows we are short on that, we Teirmonts,” Alexis laughed hollowly.
“Family is not measured in numbers, Father, but counted in the love felt,” Esther responded. “As long as there is you and me and little Alexis then there will always be a Teirmont family.”
“And my sister,” Alexis said. “Where was your aunt this evening? She did not attend the execution.”
“She said she has had her fill of blood for a lifetime,” Esther said. “I don’t blame her.”
“Neither do I,” Alexis nodded. “Unfortunately, as master, there will be so much more blood in my future. There always is.”
“Does there have to be, Father?” Esther asked. “Can this not end things?”
“No,” Alexis said. “There are those that will always rise up against the crown. Not just in Station Aelon, but from the other stations. And the primes…”
Alexis and Esther walked silently the rest of the way to the banquet hall, trailed and watched over by royal guards the entire way. The added security disturbed Esther, but she kept that fact to herself. She knew, despite her wishful thinking, that the lower decks were not at rest. Even with Moses Diggory in charge, the lowdeckers would never forget the execution of one so beloved as Lucas Langley.
There was a huge cheer when the two royals entered the great hall, but Esther could feel the hollowness of it. Broad smiles didn’t meet wide eyes, the clapping was wooden and automatic, the cries of “Huzzah!” rehearsed and forced. Esther wondered if her father might have made more enemies by killing just one.
“Thank you!” Alexis yelled as he raised his hands to quiet those assembled for the feast. “I thank each and every one of you for your loyalty and support!”
The hall quieted down and the nobles and gentry took their seats, all eyes on the master.
“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said. “The execution of the traitor does not mean the conflict is over. There is much that must be done to repair the damage, both physically and spiritually, perpetrated by Langley and his rebellion. Many joined him that did not wish to, but were forced to believe in his campaign. I will be listening to pleas of mercy and I promise to be fair.”
There were some nods, but many grumbles as well. Esther could see the distrust in the nobles’ eyes, but she could also see the bloodlust that still thirsted for “justice.”
“The council will confer and decide the next meeting of stewards and meeting of passengers,” Alexis said.
Someone coughed an expletive and Alexis frowned as he searched the hall for the offender.
“Did you think I would abandon the passengers?” Alexis asked. “All people of Station Aelon deserve a voice. I refuse to listen when that voice comes in the form of heavy blades, but I will listen when presented as reason instead of treason.”
The hall laughed at the slight joke.
“Men are men and not animals,” Alexis said. “Treating a man like a shaow or grendt is not how we as the royalty or nobility should rule. We give men a voice and they will give us their hearts.”
“What about women?” a high voice asked from the back of the hall.
There were some audible gasps and angry rumbling instantly.
“Ha, yes, women need a voice as well,” Alexis said. “But perhaps that voice is best left inside the family quarters? A woman’s voice should be what children hear, what a husband hears, yet not what a meeting hears.”
The men of the hall cheered at that proclamation, as did many women, but some held back. Esther was one that held back and she gave a sharp, reproachful look towards her father.
Then she caught sight of her aunt standing by one of the hall entrances. Their eyes met and Esther could see the sadness held there. Melinda turned abruptly and stalked away fro
m the hall, leaving Esther alone to ponder the real meaning of her father’s words.
“But enough of this tedious business!” Alexis called out. “Eat! Drink! Enjoy the night for the traitor is finally dead!”
That time the cheers and “Huzzahs!” were genuine and the entire hall got down to the business of celebrating. Alexis looked at his daughter and the twinkle of triumph in his eye that had been so present during his speech faded away quickly. Esther raised an eyebrow, but Alexis only shook his head as he sat down to the huge plate of food that was set before him, having to be carried by two servants.
A much more modest plate was set before Esther and she thanked the young man that brought it to her before taking her own seat. She picked at the food, pretending to eat with the same joy and abandon as the rest of the hall, but she mainly pushed the portions around. As the night continued, she laughed at the right jokes, blushed at the right compliments, acted offended at the right drunken insults, and ignored the ones that should have been ignored.
Yet, as the evening moved from night and into early morning, Esther couldn’t help notice that her father kept glancing over at her. And as he drank more and more gelberry wine, it was obvious that something distressed him deeply. Esther knew it wasn’t the usual pain of loss that had possessed him since her mother’s and siblings’ deaths, but something else. Something new…
“Over the next few days I will be announcing some changes to Station Aelon,” Alexis said.
Esther had to wonder what those changes would be and how they affected her. A pit in her stomach opened as she considered the possibilities.
* * *
“I am master and the decision has been made,” Alexis said as he drank his tea.
Two days had passed since the feast and he had been busy writing a speech that would let the people of Station Aelon know exactly what changes were to be made. Unfortunately for Esther, she would not be on the station to hear the speech as her father had just informed her.
