| Your banner could be here!
Find out how!
|Reader's login | Writer's login|
Word count 1134 words
By RdotTornello © 2014
The Village idiot Press
A fog of space debris, accumulated over a millennium, encased the planet. Entry was tricky and dangerous at best, even for armored craft. That was all well and good since no one of any consequence ever went there willingly. The home of humanity was now a back water, and worse, it was populated by those who would not give up on the idea of earth as it once was. The rule of law, a basis for all that came after, was still the foundational political principals by which they lived and died. It was this hard headedness that drove the rulers of the solar system into mental knots. The last law that passed, allowing androids with total sentient abilities full citizenship was a step too far. It would be ending soon enough.
“You dare to make these things citizens and equals and bring one into my court? I should have you thrown from an airlock in deep space.” The Sultan viewed the expression on the ambassador from Earth. The ambassador, old, his eyes and face showed the strain of years of diplomacy, stood erect waiting for the death decree. “But as I am a man of dignity and an observer of MY laws, I will not harm you as you have diplomatic immunity. However as you have noticed I am preparing the invasion fleet. I will end yours and all the apostates on that miserable planet you call home. You will have time to consider your fate. Logistical supplies and armaments take time to arrive and the order of battle coordinated. Your planet is a garbage heap but it does offer you some protection that must be overcome. Why do I tell you all this? Because I want you to observe and report back to your people what you have seen so that they might stave off the invasion and come to their senses, and follow MY rule of law!”
“Now show the android in.” And to the assembled court he ordered, “Everyone out. Leave me alone with this THING.”
Into the empty throne room the S7 Humanoid stood facing her executioner. The Sultan, a being whose ignorance was only usurped by his arrogance and sexual appetite, was taken off guard by her beauty. This he never expected. “You have a name, thing?” He had to regain mental control.
She looked straight into his eyes. “Your majesty, I am called by many names. Thing is not one of them. I go by the name of Sean Chaide.” She knew it was a daring move. Her goal was to save or put off for as long as possible any invasion of her home. She had volunteered.
The Sultan declared, “After this meeting you will be terminated. You are aware of that. You are not to be allowed to live. You are not human.”
“I am sentient, I can procreate…”
“You are dangerous. But before I carry out the task of ridding your home of the fools and apostates who created you, I would like to display the tools by which I will make this happen.”
“If you mean your war machine, I have heard much of it. Yes please do. I am intrigued, not so much of the how but why you feel you must do this.”
“I am gathering the forces from all over the system. This will be a holy war against the infidel, Earth…” He hesitated not knowing why and then said, “I think a better execution is forcing you to witness the planet's destruction before I terminate you. Yes that is a fitting punishment.”
“As you wish.” She was calm and seemingly unmoved by his threats.
He was confused by her demeanor. Normally those subject to death would be at his feet begging for life. She on the other hand seemed not to care. “You are rather calm,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do? I knew this was a possibility. I volunteered to meet you. I, we supposed that I might be able to understand your motives and…”
“Change my mind.” He laughed. “Fools, you are all fools.”
“Maybe so but aren’t we all based from the same stock. Isn’t Earth the home, the springboard from which all this arose?”
“Once it could be said so, but now? Now your planet is an orbiting ruin. The one thing that protects you is the garbage surrounding your planet as armor. And the fact, that until your creation, I was willing to ignore your pitiful orb. But you and those like you are an abomination that must be destroyed.”
“Why are you so fearful of us? We are not warlike, though we will defend ourselves to the death. You must be aware of that?”
“What pitiful resistance can you muster again my armada?”
She didn’t answer.
“You see, I will prevail.” He looked at her and stared. There was something about her he…
“Your majesty, might I offer a respite in this verbal sparring, and as a condemned prisoner ask for a last meal?”
“I said I would keep you alive until after the destruction of your home.”
“Yes you did. Might I suggest that we put that aside for a bit?” She had moved closer to him. He knew she was unarmed. He stood his ground. Sean was exactly his height. She looked directly at him. “Let me suggest a little something else then. I know you’re one for the best foods and I, like yourself, suffer from the desire to have a taste of the best before I die.”
He smiled at the thought. “Go on.”
“What say you that we both choose a recipe, the best of whatever we may have had. You have the best chefs in the world. What say you that we choose, and present each other with that?”
No one had ever approached him with a challenge or contest such as this, and on her death bed no less. He had nothing to lose. He waited a few seconds, impulse was always his manner. “Yes, we will do that. What do you have in mind?”
“Oh no. You misunderstand. It will be a secret, a surprise. Mine will be for you and yours for me.”
He looked at her even more amazed. “What if your choice is beyond all I have ever consumed, what then?”
“If it is not, I will terminate myself right there and then. But if it is beyond anything you have ever had, I will tell you how it was made, where the ingredients originated, the proper wines to mix, and then we do it again. What say you to that?”
“I do not kid around with my life.”
Originally published in APHELION
This story has been viewed: 1505 times.
Did you enjoy this story? Show your appreciation by tipping the author!
We shamelessly accept handouts!Give generously to the United Wa - uh, we mean Quantum Muse. It keeps Mike off the streets from scaring small children and the Web Goddess from spray painting Town Hall - again.
Quantum Museletter! Be the first to know when new stories and artwork have arrived.
Subscribe to Quantum Museletter by filling out the following form.