by Brad Carr
Rose began to cry, “What are you going to do to me now?”
“I can kill you now if you wish,” Angus said.
“Or…you can cooperate Rose,” Brakion optioned. “If you tell me who the spy is in the Tyra District, I will let you live for your crimes against the forts.”
Sobbing she asked, “And if I don’t?”
“I will feed you to my war pigs. One piece at a time.”
“Rebecca Yu was the spy.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“Yes, she was. She helped me kill two guards and help Kansas escape.”
“Wow!” Brakion gave a small sarcastic clap with his hands. “That is original!” he laughed. “Then who killed Kansas?”
“What? Kansas is dead?”
“Don’t seem so surprised Rose, we already know you did it.”
“No! I did not!”
Angus sighed, “I’ve heard some real whoppers of lies before, but that one was a stretch. I could care less who killed this Kansas Sparks guy. Good riddance I say. But someone planted those weapons on Rebecca. I studied the crime scene photos. When Rebecca took me to the firing range on the first day I arrived, she was left handed. Her first two fingers on her right hand were non functioning prosthetics. I find it hard to believe she put a perfect beam, almost dead center, to any of those guard’s heads. Then you have to factor the angle in which Rebecca was shot. Not to mention, the careless mistake of leaving Rebecca’s holster in the locker under the desk. Why would she take that off, and just carry a laser?”
“She was shot straight on, leaning on the Kansas’ cell door. This was planned to look like she was the culprit,” Brakion added. “So what’s it going to be Rose? Life on Prison Island? Or a war pig dinner?”
Rose confessed, “It was Loft. Loft is the spy.”
“Are you kidding me?” Angus questioned.
“He didn’t kill those guards or that woman. That was Kansas.”
“Thank you Rose. For the crimes against the fort, I will sentence you to life on Prison Island.” Taking out a syringe full of a clear liquid, he handed it to Angus. “For the crime of attempted murder of Mona Transmith, and the murder of Edward Silas, I sentence you to an easy death.”
“What? You can’t do that! You said you would let me live. It’s against your laws. I demand a trial.”
Brakion replied, “As an Alpha General, you are correct. However, as the Knight of the Chosen, I deny your plea for life.”
Angus held the syringe in his hand, looked at it, “She deserves torture, Brakion.”
“Angus, it won’t bring anyone back. Once you go down this road, it’s hard to come back. I know from experience. It only dirtied my soul. I fight against the urge to inflict unnecessary pain on my enemies. I must try to be better than them.” Putting his right hand on Angus’ shoulder, he continued, “Don’t change too much Angus. You’re a good man. After today, you are going to be a man that upholds our laws. The Genesis District needs more law enforcement, now that chaos has consumed it. You are good at detective work Angus, that is your true calling. I already sent a letter of recommendation.”
Handing the syringe back to Brakion he said, “Then I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m going back to my room. It’s best that I don’t know the next course of action. I didn’t see anything, or hear anything.”
“You have my respect Angus. I will visit with you later.”
Angus nodded, leaving the hospital room. Walking with a slight limp, adjusting to his prosthetic leg; he winced with every step from the gunshot wounds he sustained. Grabbing onto the hallway railing, he was able to balance himself better.
“Nice ass!” Reeves yelled.
“What? Oh shit, it’s you Reeves.”
Running up to Angus he tied the back of the hospital gown. “Listen man, you’re not supposed to show off all the goods,” Reeves laughed.
Grinning, Angus put his left arm around Reeves’ shoulder. Reeves held tight to his waist to steady him. Towering differences in height were obvious.
“Help me back to my room. And no jokes on the way. It hurts too much to laugh.”
“Okay buddy,” Reeves confirmed. Then, going back on his word he stated, “Okay, so a rooster walks into a bar….”
***
General Loft’s office was a simple room. A tablet sat on a gray metal desk, and a small table with four aluminum chairs was situated in the corner. Military photos of soldiers filled the walls around a Capital Kingdom flag. Loft remained seated at the table, in his uniform. Brakion, now back in his military attire, sat down across from him.
“Rose Papier is dead. Heart attack apparently,” Brakion stated while giving a cup of hibiscus tea to Loft. “Oh, I almost forgot something.” Reaching into his pocket, he carefully placed a pill on the surface. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Legacy.”
“Legacy? What is this AG Vol?”
“I know you’re affiliated with the Meeshu Disciples. I would have never guessed you were the Spymaster.”
Sliding his chair back from the table, Loft denied,”I have nothing to do with them. You have the wrong information.”
“Loft, we have been working together for nearly twenty years. I know when you’re lying to me.”
Glaring nervously at the table, avoiding eye contact with Brakion, he asked,“What is the pill for?”
“You have two options Loft. I can arrest you. Then you will have to answer to the people of this district for treason. Or, you can go to your grave with your name intact. The district will mourn you. Your name will be kept in the history books as one of the best generals in the Capital Kingdom, and rightfully so. Descendants of your last name will feel the honor of being related to you. After all, you and I have given our entire lives to the Capital Kingdom. But you allowed Rebecca to be murdered by our biggest enemy. You helped them escape. It backfired on you.”
Standing up Loft pounded his fists on the table, “I was under orders from the Goddess. You would have done the same Brakion.”
“I know you believe that, “ Brakion calmly confirmed. “How long have you been a part of the Meeshu Disciples?”
“As soon as King Lucian took power,” Loft stepped a few steps away. “You would have done the same Brakion. I did what my goddess commands. Just like you would if faced with a deity.”
“Dammit Loft, these traitors are responsible for the deaths of billions of people.”
“Those people are long gone, Brakion. This is the new generation. Aren’t you tired of it Brakion? I’m tired of war. Wouldn’t it be better to have peace for once?”
“At what cost?” Brakion asked getting up from his chair. “To be slaves? For some angel to control our every action? Our own soldiers were murdered. We were already on the path of peace without this Meeshu religion. We have kept an arrangement with the Scarlet Republic for decades. There hasn’t been a war in a long time. We were on the right track. And now it’s all fucked.”
“We have to purge, to start over again.”
“Are you insane, Loft? There are less than a million people on the Earth, as far as we know. We’re just on the precipice of repopulation, the Meeshu Disciples almost destroyed humanity under the guise of the Exodus Coalition. And for what purpose?”
“They are our gods, Brakion, whether you like it or not.”
“Bullshit! That is bullshit and you know it!” Brakion pointed his finger at Loft. “When, in all of human history, has religion kept peace? This is why the Capital Kingdom had prospered over the last few decades! We put our trust in science, a logical god! We began cleaning up the mess that the Exodus Coalition left our ancestors in! Now you want to revert back to nonsense? What now? Are we going to start persecuting homosexuals? Genital mutilations? Covering up child abuse? Are we going to give percentage of our income to some fucking prophet, instead of investing in the prosperity of our people?”
“We are human Brakion. We will make those same mistakes you mentioned without
help from Meeshu. They are our creators. We must have faith! She will take care of us.”
“Faith is just another word for getting fucked in the ass without permission.”
“Listen,” Loft calmly remarked, trying to defuse their argument. “I didn’t want Rebecca to die. That girl, was a good person. She had a good soul.”
“It doesn’t matter Loft. She’s dead. I know she is one with the Earth now. And I truly believe she will live again in some way. But you watched as her life was cut short. Rebecca would have been a leader someday. A good leader, and you helped ruin that.”
Loft stepped back to the table, picking up his cup of tea, and the white pill. Putting the pill in his mouth, he chased it down with the warm tea. Withdrawing to his desk seat, he leaned back.
“I didn’t want her to die,” Loft reminded Brakion. “Promise me, you won’t tell anyone about this.”
“We were friends once Loft. I haven’t forgotten how many times we’ve saved each other’s life. I will grant you this. But only because of the devastation it would inflict upon the morale of our district.”
“Thank you,” Loft said resting his hands behind his head. “If you don’t mind, I would like to be alone now. Please tell my grandchildren that I lived my life for the Capital Kingdom.”
“I will Loft. And in most ways, you did. I will miss you my friend,” Brakion sorrowfully stated.
Brakion closed the door behind him. He stood outside Loft’s office for a brief moment. Reflecting on the losses, he needed time to mourn, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He placed his hands over his face, rubbed tears from his eyes, and clutched his hair. Brakion breathed deeply, attempting to swallow.
He pictured Rebecca’s young face, and her positive smile. Rebecca was driven, but also kind to all who knew her. She always had concerns for all, and legitimately wanted to assist them all.
Brakion reflected on memories of drinking scotch at the taverns with Loft, when they were younger men. He knew Loft’s children and grandchildren on a personal basis. Outside of work, they thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. Now, it was hard not to look back at those times without feeling betrayed. Brakion departed, to take a walk near the coastline, to clear his head, and weep privately.
Loft’s eyes began to droop. Feeling exhausted, he slumped down into his chair. Breathing became difficult. Death emulated sleep.
***
Mona, Leah, and Brakion stepped onto the recently named “Loft Docks,” overlooking the ocean. Brakion stood in the middle of Mona and Leah, holding both of their hands. All three wore civilian gray jumpsuits. They were lacking any type of stitching or patches.
A young man with light blue coveralls ran up to Brakion out of breath. “AG Vol, your bags will be loaded as soon as your transport ship gets here. Is there anything else you required of me sir?”
“I’m not the Alpha General anymore son. Argiss is the AG now. Is Bantam sedated? He despises boat rides.”
“Yessir, your war pig is caged and sleeping comfortably.”
Brakion thanked him. The young man bowed in respect, then wandered away. Looking down to Leah, she gazed up to him. “You’ll love Phantom Island Leah. It’s full of animals,” Brakion confirmed. “Lots of them in fact, but most of all, you’ll love the home. We have plenty of space for you to explore.”
“It was your home before you were a king, right?”
“Yes, a long time ago.”
Mona stood on the tips of her toes, and pecked him on the lips. “A new life, you won’t regret leaving will you? I am not forcing you.”
“I know you aren’t. I’m ready for a new adventure, with the both of you.”
EPILOGUE
A statue reaching four meters tall, stands in the Capital Square of the Tyra District. The broad shouldered image of white marble, with chin held high, ascends his gaze to the North. Donned in battle armor, Brakion Vol is stepping his right boot on a pile of skulls.
A young woman of twenty-six years of age, approaches, carrying a dozen melina lotuses in her right hand. She wore tight leather slacks, brown patterned boa cobra skin boots, a long sleeved creme colored shirt, with two buttons unhinged. A laser holster was strapped down her thigh. The woman swipes her blonde curls away from her eyes, while bending over to place the flowers near the pedestal of Brakion’s statue. On the face of the pedestal, it read:
DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF
BRAKION VOL
THE WARRIOR KING
ALPHA GENERAL OF THE TYRA DISTRICT
OCTOBER 19, 3967 - NOVEMBER 23, 4050
“Leah?”
“Yes, Gabriella?”
“It is time. Mei is waiting for you outside the gates. You both need to depart the district before nightfall. Fraser Vol will not keep the ship docked forever.”
***
“Angus, got a new case for you,” an obese man ordered, sitting behind a faded mahogany desk. The room was dreary, with smoke stained, dingy yellow walls. The aroma of tobacco and bourbon filled Angus’ nostrils while standing before him.
“What do you have Captain?”
Angus hadn’t changed much over the last twenty years. He kept his head neatly shaved, and his skin didn’t develop any major wrinkles since his time in the Tyra District. His stomach may have gotten softer, but he was still spry, and intimidating in appearance to those who were not associated with him.
“Murder scene, one of those ritual killings again. It’s the parent’s body of course, and another child missing from the home.”
“Address?”
“145 Moosehead Lane, Albert Burough.”
“I’m on my way.”
***
Two young female fishermen, sat on the edge of a rotting dock. The bobber on their lines floated slowly away from them. Crevices and cracks formed on the surfaces of the gray planks, overlooking the water. The pylons were covered in mold, caused from years of moisture below. Thick fog hung upon the murky waters below them. Stringy clumps of pale green moss drooped down from the darkened trees near the water edges. The sky was abundant with gray clouds, which was typical weather on Phantom Island.
“So you mean to tell me, that you caught a catfish last week that was one hundred and thirty-six kilograms?”
“Yes.”
“In this pond?”
“Yes, no lie, I swear.”
“Nah, I don’t believe you.”
“Penny, I’m telling you I did.”
“Did you take a picture of it?”
“No.”
“Now I know you’re lying. Just like you did when you told me you were the love child of King Lucian.”
“I was. That’s what my mother always said.”
“Your Mom was loose, Carmine. The whole town knows that. She was always known as the town slut,” Penny stated insultingly.
“Hold on! When did this turn into a conversation about my family? All I said is that I caught this big ass catfish. I sold it at the market, ask anyone.”
“Alright, alright, fine, I guess I have to believe you.”
“Wait, you hear that?”
“Sounds like hoof prints.”
A young man with a dirty face marched next to a war piglet, on the cobblestone road. Wearing a sleeveless alligator skin frock exposing his strong arms, a rope belt tied around his waist, and bare feet; the man held a crude spear in his right hand. His dark bronzed skin created a stark contrast to his icy blue eyes. The man’s medium brown hair was disheveled and dirty, like he had been traveling on the road for at least a few weeks.
The war piglet had jet black hair, standing tall up to the man’s shoulder. Small tusks protruded from its mouth. Four rabbit carcasses were tied together, hanging off the war piglet’s back.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
Carmine’s heart fluttered, she was physically attracted to the man who was probably ten years younger than she. “Yes honey? What can I help you with?” she asked in a smoky voice.
“Do you know where the nearest town is? I h
aven’t been to this side of Phantom Island in a long while.”
“There’s a town about half a kilometer away, just keep going west,” Penny responded.
“Thanks.”
“Wait!” Carmine stood up, jogging over to him. She grasped his forearm. The man returned the favor, in the Capital Kingdom sign of greeting. “My name is Carmine. What is yours?”
“Boston Vol.”
“You look like a young Brakion Vol. Quite handsome. Were you related?”
“Sort of.”
“Mind if I walk with you to town?”
“Be my guest.”
“What is your war pig’s name?”
“This is Bantam Junior. I call him Baja. He seems to like that name more.”
