Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set

by Craig Martelle

  It is from this group (and there were a great many Rangers who fell into the second string) that we find our Magistrates. Grainger, Jael, Chi, and Buster were grunts, saved by a werewolf (who happened to be a Ranger), and then moved into the Ranger ranks. As for which Ranger? We’ll keep you guessing for now. Michael and the Just In Time readers are keeping me on my toes in regards to canon. We don’t want anything to conflict with what we know from the KGU. I spent a couple hours on just a few sentences in order to get them right.

  This book is the first time this group will have worked as a team since they were transformed into Rangers and then Magistrates.

  So I went right to the top. Natalie Grey came up with a crossover piece so Barnabas could make an appearance, talk to the Magistrates, and make some magic happen. I am so happy to have that addition to this book. Thank you, and thanks to Michael, who gave it a read and two thumbs up.

  I needed some DNA terminology, and from the UK, I found this site extremely helpful - http://aboutforensics.co.uk/dna-analysis/.

  Once my dentist, Dr. Tyler Ingersoll, found out that I was writing this series, he offered the bit about genetic dental issues that I worked into the plot. I think it made for a great conclusion to the clone sub-plot while allowing me to discuss some other legal elements. I have to research a great deal with this series. I was able to wing a lot of stuff in the post-apocalyptic series, but I can’t do that here.

  What if someone was cloned? Can you exist without a birth certificate? Of course you can, but can you do anything more than just exist? What will the law allow? Interesting hypotheticals, to say the least, so I put my twist and stamp on them and then moved to the main event.

  Murder!

  Recruits and Rookies - rank is Losta

  Patrol officers, the uniforms - Petro

  Patrol leaders, older, still in uniform – Hardco

  Detectives, Investigators (different uniform) – Stigo

  Specialists (bomb techs, forensics, etc.) - Specialist

  Investigation leaders (no uniform, but formal dress, like a suit) – Supra

  Police leadership (senior nonuniform ranks) - Guvna

  I had an awful lot of help from people regarding names. Here’s what I used and who I have to thank.

  Tommy Donbavand – Parkilo Prime, populated by a sentient plant species and Nat Ferider.

  Micky Cocker supplied a nice list of names, of which I picked - Y'eaton, Zaria,

  Sc'allid, Harpeth, Opheramin, Collum Gate, and Jurdenia.

  I hope everyone enjoyed this story. It was fun to write in a way that I found most relaxing. James Caplan, Micky Cocker, and Kelly O’Donnell keep me on the straight and narrow with in-process reads and ideas, language smoothing, continuity, and overall readability. They are an amazing bunch who help make me and my stories better.

  No one goes on this journey alone. If it weren’t for being surrounded by great people and the incredible readers who keep picking up my books, none of these stories would be possible.

  Peace, fellow humans.

  Please join my Newsletter (www.craigmartelle.com – please, please, please sign up!), or you can follow me on Facebook since you’ll get the same opportunity to pick up the books for only 99 cents on that first day they are published.

  If you liked this story, you might like some of my other books. You can join my mailing list by dropping by my website www.craigmartelle.com or if you have any comments, shoot me a note at craig@craigmartelle.com. I am always happy to hear from people who’ve read my work. I try to answer every email I receive.

  If you liked the story, please write a short review for me on Amazon. I greatly appreciate any kind words; even one or two sentences go a long way. The number of reviews an ebook receives greatly improves how well an ebook does on Amazon.

  Amazon – www.amazon.com/author/craigmartelle

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  My web page – www.craigmartelle.com

  That’s it—break’s over, back to writing the next book. Peace, fellow humans.

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  September 12, 2018 (a very special day to me)

  P(re).S. – Thank you to our Beta Readers, JIT Team, Editing Team, and the Operations and Art folks who helped create this book. It is a P.S. that is so important, it goes first.

  Are you reading this? Then I have a SPECIAL thank for to you. I turn fifty-one today. A bit of an accomplishment, and a sign I can’t deceive myself any longer about the truth.

  I am on the ‘other side’ of youth.

  I’m in the maturing stage of life. It’s time for me to put on that hat of wisdom and see into the future, providing insightful stories which cause readers to read and reread the book for nuggets which will illuminate the cosmos and bring peace and harmony to alien inter-species relationships throughout the galaxy.

  Or, you know, I can write more stories where we blow shit up, and hope the alien inter-species issue is solved by someone in the future.

  I think I like that option more…

  Imagination BECAME reality

  I remember reading an article where scientist (of that time) admit to reading science-fiction and watching Star Trek and it made their minds explode with ideas. The concepts they believed were cool in their youth drove them to their work paths in the future, and still excited them in their day-to-day activities as they actually created the theories and working prototypes to bring what had only been imagination to fruition.

  I have to admit I (one day) hope to create some cool piece of technology in a story which becomes a reality in the future.

  I’m ready for the future of learning (very small rant from a fifty-one-year old – I’m becoming a curmudgeon I think… Just ignore this )

  It is no great stretch to say that most adults who worry about education around the world believe we can do better. Now, “better” might require parents to get involved, which (if we have one-parent families trying to place food on the table) might require help from the community, etc., etc.

  Or, you know, we the general populace of science-fiction readers might decide to band together and cobble together the technology and research of today and build an infrastructure of classes, training, testing, and laws (yes, we would have to change the laws, I think. At least in a lot of the states in the US. I can’t speak to the laws in other countries.)

  I bet we HAVE the core technology infrastructure right now to create the virtual school of tomorrow. I can imagine a way we get there from here, and it will have to deal with so much political crap it’s crazy. For example, 2016 instructional spending (which is not total spending, just the instructional aspect) was $4,077 in Arizona and $15,746 in New York.

  Scratching my chin (and being a bit cynical), I imagine New York might have some explaining to do on that high of a spend. My (admittedly very fast WIKI lookup) suggests that New York is 37 out of 50 in educational attainment (% High School Attainment levels)

  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_U.S._states_by_educational_attainment )

  I tend to be a “follow the money” sort of fellow. I believe New York probably suffers from challenges which Arizona does not.

  So, how can we dream up a system which supports BOTH of these great states? We have free teaching already (just go online and check out videos from well-known universities.)

  Often, it is not the teachers who are lacking, but the infrastructure (both material and immaterial) which is hampering both teachers and the operations group.

  Or hell, they suck! (Which is a possibility.)

  I suspect that in my lifetime we will have a completely new paradigm of teaching and I’d love it to be from Science-Fiction fans that made it happen. For an extensive discussion of one such system, check out Crescendo of Fire, (click here) the second book in LMBPN’s Braintrust series by Marc Stiegler, and Let the Bits Run Free, also by Marc Stiegler, an educational short story which
will be on LMBPN’s Ear Crush Podcast Friday September 21st. (http://lmbpn.com/earcrush/).

  There, I’ve added the necessary societal thoughts into the book, woven in delicately between the first page and the last.

  So, anyone ready to go blow shit up and take out the bad guys?

  Because I’m fifty-one, not dead.

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Your Life is Forfeit

  Judge, Jury, & Executioner Book 4

  Chapter One

  “Look who the cat dragged in!” Red laughed as he finished another set using the bench press, turning the massive pile of weight over to Lindy. “What happened to your hair?”

  “Don’t listen to him. Stretch, and let’s get you started,” Rivka told Jay, who was participating in her first post-Pod-doc visit to the gym.

  Jay motioned for the Magistrate to join her in the corner for a private conversation. The two women huddled together, and Jay looked over her shoulder before whispering, “He’s right. After the treatment, my hair’s curly and I can’t do anything with it.”

  Rivka shrugged. “My eyes weren’t always this color. The Pod-doc changes us.”

  “But…” Jay protested. She pulled the collar of her shirt down to reveal a single black hair the length of her hand growing out of the middle of her chest. She wrapped it around a finger and yanked it out, tossing it aside. Almost instantly it reappeared, and within seconds it had grown back to its previous length. “I don’t like that, and I don’t feel right. I don’t feel stronger or more invincible or anything like you guys seem to.”

  “After our workout, we’ll get some answers. Maybe your nanocytes need to settle in. Give them a vigorous shake-up, and you may be amazed.”

  “What about this?” Jay pointed at the hair dangling from her shirt.

  “I don’t know what to tell you about that. I can’t tell you it’s not weird.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “There are a lot of things in life that we don’t want but get to cope with anyway. Maybe the nanos determined you needed it for some reason. Tiny alien rappelling lessons?”

  Jay rolled her eyes as Rivka clapped her on the shoulder.

  “Come on, we’ve got a lot of reps to do before we can call it a day.”

  Lindy grunted with effort as she tried to keep up with Red. He beamed with pride after each completed rep and glanced at the stack repeatedly. “A new record!” he declared when Lindy finished and the plates thumped into the rack.

  She stood and stretched. “Felt good, but that’s it. Unless I get my skeleton upgraded to titanium, I’m not sure my body can handle any more. I can feel my bones straining. How screwed up is that?”

  Red laughed softly before giving her a sweaty hug. “I feel it, too. Maybe we’ve hit the limit of enhanced human endurance. Look at that stack!” The modified weight rack registered upward of a metric ton, and they were lifting all of it. “We don’t know until we go beyond.”

  Rivka pushed Red aside and straddled the bench. She put her feet up and pushed the stack upward, easing it back into place after five reps. “I see what you mean.” She cut the weight to a single plate—a mere two hundred pounds—and pointed for Jay to take her place.

  The young woman with the curly black hair looked skeptical as she laid back, braced herself and strained against the bar. The muscles in her arms bulged and tightened, but the stack didn’t move.

  “That’s weird. She should be able to push that on her worst day,” Red remarked, pursing his lips and watching intently as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Lindy crossed her arms and clicked her tongue.

  “Enough weights,” Rivka directed, not wanting Jay to be embarrassed or further skylined as incapable. The young woman looked worried as Rivka pulled her upright. “Time for some gentle sparring.”

  She looked slyly at Red. The two contenders always ended up in the ring last. Rivka was smaller, but a heavyweight in ability. She trained hard with Grainger every chance she got. Being a Magistrate was dangerous enough without going at it half-assed.

  “I’ll get to you,” she told him. “Come on, Jay. Let’s work on some counter-moves. Try to punch me in the head.”

  Rivka raised her hands and bobbed lightly on the balls of her feet. The impact came before anyone saw the movement. Rivka’s head snapped back, and she found herself falling. She landed flat on her back and Jay rushed forward to kneel beside her, worry creasing her brow. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened.”

  Red reached down and yanked Rivka to her feet. “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “I saw nothing,” Rivka mumbled. “How’d you do that?”

  “Maybe we should try the bag?” Lindy suggested, hoping to avoid being Jay’s next victim.

  Jayita sat on the mat and hugged her knees. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered.

  “For what?” Rivka asked. Jay mumbled unintelligibly.

  Ankh? We could use your expertise in the Magistrate’s gym. Jay’s nanocytes are doing weird things, Rivka requested, using their internal comm system.

  Interesting. I worked on the programming because we can’t have her all bulky like the rest of you. I’ll be right there, the Crenellian replied.

  Rivka shook her head at the reply. “Ankh is coming. He said we’re bulky, and he couldn’t allow Jay to be like us, whatever that means. In the meantime, how about we do a little speed check?”

  “I like being bulky.” Red flexed a massive bicep.

  “I’m not sure I like being called bulky, but there are advantages in our line of work.” Lindy smiled at Red.

  “Our line of work,” Red emphasized, swelling with joy at having found his soulmate. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “My big, bad bodyguard,” Rivka cooed, flexing her bicep. “Am I bulky?”

  Red looked away, and Lindy shrugged.

  “You have been saved from our fate, it appears. Come and take a shot at the bag. I think you’re going to find a skill that none of us have.”

  Jay reluctantly stood and faced off against the bag. She slapped it a few times.

  “Not like that!” Rivka stood behind the bag, took hold, and braced herself. “Hit it like you’re fighting for your life. Practice how you play, as the saying goes.”

  Jay bounced on her feet and punched—wildly, but blindingly fast. The only sign that she’d swung was the sound of her hand hitting the bag. Dents appeared where she’d struck. With each impact, Rivka grunted from the shock.

  “Try to kick it,” Red suggested.

  Jay bent at the waist as she executed a side-kick, sending Rivka off her feet to land in a heap. The bag swung freely as the Magistrate laid on the floor. Jay hopped and kicked it again. No one saw her foot as the bag careened off the ceiling. She tried to catch it when it flew back toward her, hitting Jay in the chest and knocking her to the floor opposite Rivka.

  “Let me see if I understand this. You can strike at light speed but get knocked over by a feather?”

  “We’ll work on that,” Ankh said.

  “How long have you been standing there?” Red asked, surprised that the Crenellian had snuck up on him.

  “Does that matter?” Ankh asked, looking up with his usual blank stare. Red shook his head and was first to look away. “I’ve programmed the nanos for maximum speed at the cost of strength. Jay will not have your density; her muscles are optimized for something more in line with her personality. Speed will save her life, not strength.”

  “I would like to think that her mind will save her life rather than any physical enhancements,” Rivka offered.

  “I’d like to think that you won’t put me in harm’s way.” Jay stood as tall as she was able, towering over the Crenellian but shorter than the other three. “Or Ankh.”

  Red and Lindy waited for Rivka to answer. “Or that,” she muttered with little confidence.

  Jay started to laugh. “So, I’m okay?”

  “You are more than okay, Jayita,” Ankh stated.
“You are faster than what they used to call vampiric speed. You will also be able to take a bullet without dying, although it’ll be painful and take a long time to heal. When your adrenaline pumps, you should be able to see a bullet in flight and step out of its way. You won’t be able to dodge a laser or most energy beams, unfortunately.”

  “She’ll only be able to dodge some of the energy beams, but all bullets? Where has this been all my life?” Red wondered.

  Ankh stared at the big man. Red found himself looking away yet again. Lindy caught his chin and pulled his face toward hers.

  He smiled and shrugged. “He can probably kill us with his brain, so let’s not push it.”

  Tod Mackestray was a Blokite. His squarish head topped his broad shoulders, giving the impression of a blockhouse on top of a small mountain. As wide as he was tall, he moved in a graceless waddle. Keen eyes on the front and sides of his head missed nothing and helped his focused mind assimilate information. That was critical in running his budding empire.

  The only thing Tod sold was influence, from blackmail, threats, and protection rackets to simple leverage. The Blokite moved people into key positions and just as quickly moved them out. He thought of it like chess.

  His bodyguards knew it was a dangerous business. At least once a week, the leveraged would try to strike back, but they were amateurs in the ways of the universe. He had yet to break into the highest ranks of power, but that time was coming.