I stood alone to one side, about the only person there who wasn’t part of the conspiracy. Either that, or there were dozens of bystanders who joined in on impulse. I thought they would turn and finish me off, too. But they didn’t
Like robots running down, after the first flurry of blows and the blood, they slowed up, stood around, some looking at the body, some looking away. Then they moved out, some running but most walking. Until the Rotunda was almost empty.
Corbin lay on his back, half in the fountain, with the water dripping across his face and his open eyes. It washed away the blood that still seeped from the gashes and the water got pinker and pinker. I wanted to go and close his eyes, but I could not make my feet move.
They have killed him, killed the General. It was a mob murder, but Bruce and Long clearly started it. I testify to that.
So, why doesn’t somebody find them? No one can disappear without a trace. Not anymore. Not with the cybernet checking credits and reservations every time you turn around. So, let’s track them down! Bring them back! Punish them for conspiracy and murder!
Or doesn’t anyone care?
About the Author
Thomas T. Thomas is a writer with a career spanning forty years in book editing, technical writing, public relations, and popular fiction writing. Among his various careers, he has worked at a university press, a tradebook publisher, an engineering and construction company, a public utility, an oil refinery, a pharmaceutical company, and a supplier of biotechnology instruments and reagents. He published eight novels and collaborations in science fiction through Baen Books and is now working on more general and speculative fiction. When he’s not working and writing, he may be out riding his motorcycle, practicing karate, or wargaming with friends. Catch up with him at www.thomastthomas.com.
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