Sons of Abraham: J-17's Trial

by JOSEPH RAY

  “Why is that?” Elsmere asked, no concern in his voice. “I’ve told you that common law does not apply out here, have I not?”

  “You have not,” Joseph replied, his gaze returning to the lord. “But it was assumed. However, I am forced to point out that this contract was written on Mesa. Mesa, as you know, does acknowledge common law. Thus, since the contract and the agreement were both created on Mesa, it must adhere to the laws of Mesa, not Parasus. By common law, human beings cannot be considered as property, nullifying your contract with the girls’ father. As I said, the girls will come with me to be returned to their home planet immediately.”

  Lord Elsmere nodded to Terrance. The tiny man reached into a pocket of his silk robe, activating the device that resided within it. With his heightened senses, Joseph could clearly hear the boots stomping up the stairwell behind him.

  “You mean to uphold your invalid contract?” the MA noted. “I would not advise such action. Using force against a military advisory would be unwise on your part. You would be stripped of your title, your properties forfeited, and I would have to escort you to Earth for an inquiry. Is this how you wish to proceed?”

  By that point, the guards had burst through the doorway, their weapons raised to Joseph’s back. The MA paid the threat little regard, his focus maintained upon the man giving the orders before him.

  “That would be true if you were able to tell anyone,” Elsmere stated confidently. “I’m afraid that the odds of your leaving this room alive are growing increasingly thin. Perhaps, you should reconsider your position?”

  Joseph smiled, causing the lord to grow uncomfortable. Cyber’s didn’t smile. They didn’t raise their voices, they didn’t become sad, and they certainly never smiled. Their circuitry prevented the human part of their brains from expressing any type of emotion.

  “Is the smile supposed to be a trick?” the lord asked the confidence wavering.

  “Oh no, no trick,” Joseph replied, the smile still on his face. “I do believe it is you, however, whom should reconsider their position. I’ve already transmitted your infraction back to my superiors.”

  Elsmere laughed, looking to each one of his men as he did. One by one, the men joined in their master’s laughter when he looked upon them. The smile upon Joseph’s face remained, untainted from the fake confidence of those who surrounded him.

  “You are bluffing,” Terrance snarled. “You would need a relay system to transmit a message to space. I dare say your head isn’t large enough to conceal such a device.”

  “Agreed,” Elsmere mocked. “Guards, take this THING from my site. Be certain you are outside the city when you dispose of it. The people would only see a man, not the pathetic machine that it is.”

  The guards stepped forward, each clutching the MA’s arm from each side. Joseph turned to each guard, making note of their hands upon him. He looked back to Terrance before returning his gaze to the lord.

  “You are correct, I cannot transmit from here,” he started.

  “Of course, you can’t,” Elsmere boasted. “You were amusing, but now that your cards are on the table, you begin to bore me. Guards, remove it.”

  The guards tightened their grips, attempting to pull the man back to the doorway. Their hands barely managed to pull back before a flash blurred before them, two hands smacking into the throats of each man in unison. The men dropped, pistols taken from their hands before their minds could understand what had just occurred. Their eyes opened to see one gun pointed between them, the other aimed directly at Lord Elsmere.

  “As I was saying,” Joseph continued. “I cannot transmit from here, but I was able to transmit to my ship when I returned to the platform. The message was relayed from my ship to each Gabriel Ring. I accepted my orders before returning here.”

  Elsmere glanced uneasily at the guards, his eyes urging for them to make a move. Both men understood what their master wanted, but neither was willing to risk their lives for such a pointless order. Legends spoke of the quickness of Cybers, but it was something that one had to witness before they were able to appreciate the blinding speed at which the men were able to move. At this point, both men were afraid to breathe too deeply, let alone move any of their trembling muscles.

  “My orders were to return the sisters to their families,” Joseph continued. “I am to do so using any means necessary. Would you like a description of what those means are, or will you send Terrance to retrieve my query?”

  Terrance glanced back to his master, his eyes pleading with the lord to agree to the request. His thin legs were beginning to turn under his robe, willing his body to exit the room before he was told. His eyes shifted back and forth between the two chess masters, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

  “No,” Elsmere stated. “I will see my death before I yield to a machine.”

  “I understand,” Joseph stated, his tone uninterested.

  Terrance dropped to the floor, his bladder voiding as shots rang throughout the room. His long nose cowered between his knees as he tried to make himself as small as his stiff frame would allow. He heard a thump before him, signifying that he no longer had a master to obey. Ira cried out, the only sound louder than Terrance’s whimpering once the gunfire ceased.

  “On your feet,” Joseph stated, stalking across the room.

  The soles of the heavy military boots stomped on the tiles, uncaring, which were to be walked on, and which were not. Terrance shuddered with the falling of each step, his whimpering growing in volume as the footfalls drew nearer. He nearly jumped out of his loose robe when the butt of one long barrel jabbed into his shoulder.

  “On your feet,” Joseph repeated.

  Terrance pulled his head from under his arms, his face stained with tears. The site of the barrel aimed at his left eye only emphasized the dire situation he found himself. His wrinkled hands trembled as he raised them above his head, his body twisting to put himself in a kneeling position before the armed MA. His nature would not allow for him to stand, his only option to lie his face to the floor, tears soaking the piss-stained tile beneath him. He hadn’t the pride to care that the tile wreaked of his own waste, the only thought bouncing in his mind was his own survival. If asked, he would not have been able to recite his mother’s name.

  “Please don’t kill me,” he begged, his voice cracking as he sobbed. “I didn’t see anything, I swear it. I’ll never tell anyone what you did. I’ll swear that I found them dead.”

  “You’ll swear nothing,” Elsmere groaned.

  Terrance’s head shot up, relieved to see his master alive and well. In his distress, the tiny man failed to notice that a large chunk of red glass had crashed to the floor, not the lifeless body of his master. He chanced a peek to his left, seeing that both guards were seated, their hands still raised in surrender.

  “Fetch the girls,” Elsmere groaned, his hands rubbing his throbbing ears.

  “See that they’re dressed,” Joseph ordered, his eyes scanning the room. “I won’t take them to their father wearing those bikinis. Be quick about it, or the next shot I take will meet its mark.”

  Terrance scurried from the room, not needing to be told again. Joseph looked to Ira, motioning for her to follow. She glanced down at her attire, realizing what she needed to do. A beaming smile formed upon her face as she hurried across the room, following the little man from the site. Several minutes passed in silence, the three men remaining seated as they waited for the return of the young girls. As they waited, Joseph slowly circled the room.

  As the group waited, more footfalls echoed from the open doorway. One by one, more guards entered the room, their weapons drawn and aimed at the unwelcomed visitor. Joseph moved his aim from the two unarmed guards on the floor to the newcomers, his eyes locked in the reflective scanning mode. Two of the newcomers had calm heartbeats, veterans whom wouldn’t fire unless ordered to do so. The third, however, was a reason for concern. The MA couldn’t tell if it was the journey up six flights of stairs that str
essed his circulatory system, or if the man was pondering whether or not to take down the armed MA before him.

  “Tell them to holster their weapons,” Joseph stated to Elsmere, his eyes never leaving the guns that were trained upon him.

  “Do it,” Elsmere ordered, a hint of concern in his voice.

  The two veterans did not hesitate to lower their weapons, an obvious sign that this was not the first time they’d witnessed such an event. The third, however, needed Joseph to aim the weapon directly at him before he followed the order.

  “It won’t matter you know?” Elsmere stammered.

  Joseph did not budge. The sound of tiny, heeled shoes drawing nearer behind him informing him that the moment was drawing to its potentially ugly end.

  “I’ll have all four of them back before the week is through,” he continued, shifting in his broken seat. “I’ll send hunters for them as soon as you leave. They’ll bring the girls, and their father before me. I’ll make him watch as I fuck all four of them, one by one, right before him. Perhaps I’ll have them all at the same time, their father screaming and begging for me to stop. I’ll take the youngest, whatever her name is, and have her mount me on the floor a foot away. He’ll smell his daughter as I steal her innocence from her. All the while, you’ll be back on Earth, helpless to do anything until you are given the order. After I’m done, I’ll sell them off to the next smuggler. They’ll be split up and auctioned for pitiful bids, spending the rest of their lives pleasuring men in the whorehouses of the outer systems. Your common laws won’t mean a damn thing to them anymore. Tell me, Cyber, how does that make you FEEL?”

  The tiny footfalls had stopped. The MA needn’t turn around to know that all three of the girls were crying, horrifying, revolting worries freezing them in time. Elsmere smiled at Joseph, searching for any sign of an emotional response from the Cyber. Even Terrance stood with his mouth hanging open, purely disgusted at the horrid tale told before him. Slowly, Joseph turned his head and focused upon the confident lord.

  “I FEEL you are resisting arrest,” he replied calmly.

  The gun in the Cyber’s right hand raised. Elsmere’s eyes opened wide in horror. A single shot rang out. This time, the aim was not to intimidate. The light-haired head exploded upon impact, the fragmenting bullet splintering the skull and brain matter before depositing the heap on the back of the seat. The body, its face removed from the head, fell limp upon the seat. No one blinked, no one screamed, and no one felt a single ounce of loss upon the man’s departure from the world.

  MA Joseph lowered the weapons and walked to the exit. The three sisters lowered their heads, avoiding the mess before them as they chased after their savior. One guard stood, following the group down the stairs and out the domed capital building. The group remained silent as the transport was driven by the trailing guard to the platform, the Hermes craft waiting patiently for its pilot.

  “Don’t forget this,” the guard said, reaching into his coat and returning with the MA’s firearm.

  Joseph held both of the guard’s pistols in one hand, taking his own from the hand before him and returning it to its home. He returned the favor, handing the two long barreled guns back to the waiting guard.

  “Hell will come for you MA Joseph,” the guard continued. “I don’t mean to say that God will condemn you. I mean to say that the King will know what transpired here, and he won’t care that you were in the right. A war will follow you home.”

  Joseph looked to the guard, understanding that the man only meant to warn him, not to threaten him. The Cyber knew very little of the new King, but he knew enough to understand that the guard may have spoken the truth.

  “I’ll heed your warning,” he replied. “I would appreciate if you would tell your king something for me, though if you don’t mind.”

  The guard’s face squinted, become puzzled at the words offered to him.

  “Of course,” he muttered.

  Joseph leaned in close, his eyes becoming darker the closer he drew to the trembling man. The guard wanted nothing more than to take a step back, to break his stare upon the lifeless, machine eyes that bore through him.

  “Tell your King that I shall be watching,” Joseph started. “If anything happens to these girls, if anyone even hints that foul action will be taken upon them, I will return to this planet with others like me. We will burn this place to the ground, and Parasus will become the new Atlantis. Do I make myself abundantly clear?”

  The guard swallowed hard, his balance threatening to fall backward as the Cyber continued to lean towards the shorter man.

  “Crystal clear,” he replied. “Have a safe journey, sir.”

  The eyes returned to their normal form, the MA backed away from the guard. The Cyber turned, his arms opening wide to reach the young girls who waited impatiently for their savior to take them home. The odd grouping made for the small ship as the guard watched, his mind pleading that his King would take no action upon the girls before him.

  2 CHAPTER two

  Two brown eyes, seasoned beyond their years, watched the I.I.U. Agent makes his way across the port. The Den was no place for a lawman, a lesson that many had learned far too late in their lives. The law seldom found its way to Mesa, leaving the locals to create their own form of justice. Despite observing Earth’s common law, this place was an eye for an eye, giving back whatever you took. The Agent seemed to know his way around the port, making certain to move forward and avoid making eye contact with too many of the curious eyes that fell upon him. Not three years prior, the watchful brown eyes saw two young lawmen not make it half as far as this one before disappearing amongst the many dark shadows that covered the fronts of the dwellings. No, this agent seemed to have his wits about him, leaving one to ponder why he was there to begin with.

  “We got incoming boss,” AJ said into the small device embedded in his arms cuff.

  He waited for a minute, his brown eyes never losing the wandering Agent that had now crossed the side street, heading in a direction that AJ wished he wasn’t. They were in enough trouble already without the law from Earth sticking its noses into things.

  “How many?” a woman’s voice asked over the arm cuff.

  “Just one,” he replied, his voice low and rough. “Agent, by the looks of em. He’ll be on your nine real soon. Take a quick peek, can’t miss em.”

  The com went silent for several seconds before it filled with static. The man watched the Agent disappear into the mouth of the housing cave, taking it as his cue to head back from his perch. He knew that the boss could handle herself, but he wasn’t sure if things would get out of hand once others caught on that an Agent had just landed on Mesa.

  “You can stand down AJ,” the woman finally replied. “This one is an old friend.”

  “Copy that,” AJ replied, already halfway to the meeting spot.

  Captain Zena Benson finished waving to the approaching Agent before she closed the curtain to the second-floor window and returned to her gracious host. Yomiel Koranth was a pleasant man, as pleasant as one could be having lived on Mesa one’s entire life. He was taller than she, standing around six foot or six one. His hair was black, curly, with the slightest hint of gray beginning to seep through. His eyes were exceptionally large, the brown iris and black pupils engulfing the whites of the eyes. He was dark in the skin, needing a shave, and horribly thin. The man had little to speak of when it came to wealth, but he gladly shared what luxuries he could with his two guests.

  “You’re going to need another cup of coffee,” she stated to her host. “There’s an Agent heading this way.”

  “An agent?” Yomiel cried, springing to his feet. “We should be running then. Surely the man is here to arrest me and take my daughter back to that monster.”

  Captain Benson laughed, stalking across the room and placing a gentle hand upon the man’s bony shoulder. With a little force, she guided the frightened man back to his wooden seat. His eyes were wide, frozen in terror at the thought of an Ag
ent coming to his front door. He looked to the stairway, more than once, before looking back to his guest.

  “Not this Agent,” she assured him. “I promise this one will talk and talk long before he ever thinks to act. I’d say you got lucky this time.”

  “Lucky?” the man cried. “My eldest daughter is bruised and has barely woke since you returned, my other three still in the possession of that mad man, and you say I am lucky? I may not have come from your life Zena, but I scarcely say this is luck.”

  “Zeh-nah,” she corrected him. “Short ‘e’ sound. Just sit tight my friend. We’ll get this worked out shortly.”

  As if on cue, a knock on the front door filled the halls of the stone structure. Yomiel glanced nervously to the stairs, a perfect line to see the front door. Zena wasted no time, quickly descending the stairs to the first floor. Her left hand twisted the wooden handle, unlatching the door. Her right hand went to her back, reaching for a little encouragement from the handle of her pistol.

  “Agent Calloway,” she started. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Nathan Calloway barely acknowledged the greeting, shoving the door the rest of the way open and allowing himself into the home. Like many of the other dwellings, the building was a simple beige stone with dark wood trim and doorway. It spoke to a simpler time, back before metal and plastic took over the world. Beautiful tapestries were hung on the wall, likely to have been handmade by the owner’s ancestors throughout the previous generations. All of the furniture was wooden, the same dark color as the doors and trim. A fireplace across the main room lit the first floor but did nothing to light the stairwell.

  “Where are they?” Nathan asked, not bothering to turn to the woman.

  “Where is who?” Zena asked, stepping in close behind him.

  Calloway twirled around, his pistol aimed directly at Captain Benson’s face. He fixed on the light blue eyes that stared back at him, noting how they looked to his and not to the barrel of the gun. Her short hair was dark red, a swirling and tumbling mess upon her that curled around her face. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but the Agent knew not to underestimate her physical capabilities. She looked skinny under the brown leather vest and thermal long sleeved shirt, but he knew there lie a ton of muscle memory beneath the clothes, training that could snap his arm before he could get the first shot off.