by SK Benton
An orange jumpsuit-clad Leonard Johnson slowly stood up, his nervous system still not quite right after having suffered being violently disconnected from the Vrol hive mind. He looked around, barely managing to grow a sneer on his thin lips, and then spoke. "What I did was for the good of the human race. We have grown weak, and a weak species needs to be culled. I have no regrets and would gladly execute the same actions again, given the same circumstances."
The full chambers filled with murmurs as Judge Dickinson pounded her gavel on her desk. "Order! We will have order in this court! You may discuss Mr. Johnson's reply after these proceedings." She paused momentarily, and then said, "Your response is truly disconcerting, Mr. Johnson. You have wreaked havoc upon our worlds, and thanks to your manipulations over two million Azulian citizens lost their lives in New Sydney, aside from countless others throughout the system. In fact, we are increasing the body count on a daily basis, but your response makes no difference. As Azul has no death penalty, I cannot pronounce a tougher sentence than has already been decided. Leonard Johnson, you are hereby sentenced to life in prison, to be spent in solitary confinement, without comfort or contact from any other human being, neither directly nor indirectly, for the rest of your natural life. If you manage to convert into one of these so-called immortal, activated vampires, your sentence shall remain so - until the day you die. Such is the will of this court."
Nearly the entire chamber filled with cheers, people jumping out of their seats and hugging each other, while Judge Dickinson repeatedly beat her gavel onto the wooden desk at which she was seated.
Knowing she was fighting a losing battle, she finally commanded, "Court dismissed!"
Leonard Johnson was led away in shackles by abnormally large lycan soldiers from the Rhönen Dominion - soldiers that had decided to stay on the strange, new world, despite the fact they had to be registered with the government for merely being who they were.
Max, Jennie and all of their extended family walked down the expansive steps of the Nueva Argentina capitol building, as reporters rushed to the sidewalk, their electronic communication devices having been nullified while inside the structure. News was fast on Azul, and within moments the entire system rejoiced. Crowds partied in the streets, with parades already being planned.
"All's well that ends well, eh?" mused Max
"Son, you do realize that was a play by William Shakespeare, do you not?" asked Michael.
"Of course I do. I read it last week. And I'll bet he really did write it."
"That he did, son. That he did," said the Taxiarch, while gaining a broad smile.
"It's not over, you know. The inactive vamp politicians are ramping up to gain seats in the new elections," said Jennie.
"This whole anti-lycan thing is pissing me off. Hell, we saved the galaxy, and this is how we're repaid," added Bagatelle, walking arm-in-arm with Alicia, who was sporting a new engagement ring made of white gold.
"So girls, what are you going to do? Stay here, go to the Rhönen or go back to Hollywood?" Max asked Jessica and Pandy.
"I'm staying in the military," said Pandy. "I like the order about it. Plus. I managed to stay off that lycans list, so I'll be safe for a while."
"You'll make a fine officer," said Bagatelle.
"Sir, with all due respect, I'm resigning my commission. I really super appreciate what you did for me, but Gabriel and I have other plans," said Jessica.
"I would have figured as much, Jessica. In any case, it was an honor to serve with you. Please let us know if you change your mind."
"Oh thanks sir!"
"Ali, I don't see Kyle anywhere. Where's he going to live now?" asked Jennie.
"He'll be with us. His scores are high enough to get him into the junior military academy, and it's a boarding school so we'll have plenty of privacy too," she giggled, causing Bagatelle to get an awkward look and attempt to change the subject.
"Max, Jennie, what are you two going to do now? I am personally giving you leeway to go where you like with the Reagan," Bagatelle said to his sister and brother-in-law.
"Um, I need to go find something. I have this funny pull in my stomach, but it's not anywhere around here," said the beautiful Primulus female.
"Jen, wherever you want, we're going," said Max, as he gave his wife a light kiss.
"Mami, shall you be gone long?" asked Liliana, tugging on her mother's skirt - something the woman rarely wore.
"Sweetie, our trip will take about four months. But you'll be here with Tía and Tío."
"You mean Abuelito and Abuelita, Mami."
"No sweetie. You have to call them your tíos now. It's part of your new identity - Lili Gatto, from Schweiz."
"Oh yes, I understand. They look much too young to be grandparents anyway."
###
Len Johnson sat on the edge of his thin cot, staring at a blank wall. He had already been in his cell for an entire week, and had spent the majority of his time fantasizing about his eventual release. His mind had retreated into a world of contrived make-believe, where he convinced himself that his son was going to come to his rescue. Then he and Ryder would kill Max Gunnarsson and take a slip drive-enabled ship to Earth and start anew.
As he sat quietly, rocking his head back and forth, he had no idea what was standing over him.
An immensely beautiful, green-eyed Primulus stood over Johnson, wondering if the Angel of Death felt the same when looking down upon one who was soon to depart the world of the living. Invisible to the former dictator, or anyone else for that matter, she watched as the man merely stared at the wall. Per sentencing guidelines he was not allowed any contact with the outside world, nor even a window in his cell. He had no vid display, magazines, books nor a personal console. All he had, aside from his active fantasies, were the memories of what he used to possess and what he'd done.
Jennie wondered what went on in his mind: how someone who had done so much damage could appear to be so absolutely without remorse. Curious, she reached out and touched his temple, delving into the abyss of his psyche. She at least wanted to know what he was thinking before she handed down her final sentence.
Oh… my god. He is so evil. Even his mind feels icky.
Looking into his memories, she saw him at a cocktail party. It was an impromptu event, the occasion being the death of the President of the Republic, which he had engineered. The man even had the temerity to order his staff to create a large banner that said Happy President's Death Day.
Subconsciously inviting only those of his kind, the party was almost exclusively populated by pale, blonde people, all having sneering thin lips and not one trusting the other. Looking further, she saw when he hosted a massive dinner party in honor of his son, Ryder, immediately after the young lieutenant had wantonly murdered dozens of pilots and techs in Sol space. Jennie was revolted beyond comprehension, as she listed those who perished among her friends.
The man reveled in death and mayhem, but he had a solitary weakness. He truly loved only one thing in the entire universe - Ryder - and he still had no idea his son was dead. Jennie considered killing him right then and there, but found it nearly impossible to retain contact with his rancid mind. Steeling herself, she held on for a few moments more.
Len Johnson immediately sat up, a look of immense pleasure encompassing his pale face. His muscles went lax and his neck started to nod unnaturally while a scene flashed through his mind.
He was seated in a boat on a lazy river, fishing pole in hand. His son, Ryder, was by his side and had just caught an unusually large bass, reeling it in and gutting the creature with glee. They were together - father and son - passing their free time together as they would so often do on their new home - Earth. They enjoyed that spot on the Congaree River, in what used to be South Carolina, and he had even used convenient slave labor to build a nice vacation home on its banks.
Suddenly, and without warning, something large shot up out of the water. It was a screaming, evil Max Gunnarsson, his eyes aflame and fire shooting out
of his mouth. The interloper landed in the boat and started to stab Ryder to death with a large knife, carving away at his beloved, only child. Ryder screamed in agony, while Johnson remained frozen, unable to assist his son. He tried to reach his boy, but the more he reached out toward his son the further away he seemed.
Then everything went black.
Len Johnson was pushing his fishing boat out from their vacation home in South Carolina. His son Ryder jumped in first, laughing as he grabbed his fishing pole.
"Betcha I get the biggest one today, Dad," he said, as he put some bait on his hook.
They were together, and had succeeded in emigrating to Earth, their new dominion. It was a sunny afternoon, and the cool breeze soothed their skin…
"Ma'am, something's wrong with the prisoner," said a prison medical technician.
"What's wrong, Tech Warner?" asked the commanding officer.
"He just sits there, rocking his head back and forth for a few of minutes, wearing a smile. Then he suddenly starts to scream and thrash around. After a couple of minutes he goes back to rocking his head. It's been happening over and over again for the last two hours."
"Keep an eye on him. No one is to speak to him, nor go to his aid while he's conscious. Those are the rules."
###
Tommy and Janie Williams waited outside ornate, wrought iron gates that guarded the path to an attractive, white two-level building. Looking out at the grounds they saw vast, rolling green hills everywhere, with only a futbol field and some trees breaking up the seemingly endless horizon.
"She'd better hurry up. You don't wanna be late on the first day of school," said Janie.
"Oh, she'll get here on time. Remember she's a - Lili! You scared me!" exclaimed Tommy, as a pigtailed Liliana was suddenly standing next to him.
She had just arrived at her new school in a most unusual manner. In fact, in a way no one else her age was able to.
"Hi guys! Sorry I was almost late. Tía made me iron my uniform… by hand! Can you believe?"
"Oh yeah, Lili, we can believe," said Tommy, feeling no sympathy for his friend, being he also had to iron his own uniform, and would have to as long as he had one.
Boys wore blue knee-length shorts and a white, collared shirt, with the school crest on the pocket. Girls had a nearly identical uniform, but their shirt and shorts had a more feminine cut.
"Pretty impressive campus, eh?" mused Janie, as the trio walked down the path to their new school.
"Mm-hmm," hummed Liliana, who was also looking around and was very, very excited. "Oh, Tío and I rebuilt my treehouse. We can use it for our Lycan Brigade meetings," she whispered.
"Lili! Shhh. You shouldn't even mention that here on campus," Janie scolded quietly. "Here comes the headmistress. Now behave!"
"Welcome, Tommy, Janie and Lili. It is good to see you," said Professor Loretta Harrison, as the children walked up the stairs to the main building, getting slightly bustled by numerous other kids running past, already knowing their destinations.
"Good morning, Professor," said Liliana. "Might I ask how it is you identified us for such a nice greeting?"
Harrison smiled and looked out over the incoming throng of students, saying, "It's not often we receive foreign students."
"True, we are foreign students," said Janie.
"Yes, of course you are. You will have a special English and Castilian class just to make sure you are at the same linguistic level as your fellow students. After having completed that you shall be integrated into regular language classes. However, your math and science tests came back with excellent marks, so you shall go into all other regular classes straight away."
"Special Ed. Oh joy," Tommy said sarcastically. "Maybe they'll send a short bus for us every morning."
"Oh, but we are special," chirped Liliana, not understanding her friend's burlesque comment.
"Come, children. We have much to accomplish. Welcome to St. Mary's Academy."
###
Later that afternoon, Commander Jennifer Gunnarsson stood on the bridge of the ADF Ronal Reagan, punching coordinates into the hook drive computer as the ship floated in an asynchronous orbit over Buenos Aires. They were to travel across Orion's spiral Arm to a world where something very special awaited the remarkable woman. She scanned the crew - each one being of she and Max's choosing. Aside from some Rhönen and Tokyo lycans, Josh and Becky Mannheim were joining them on the ship on special assignment from the Military Scientific Research Complex. Also on the vessel was Marko, the formerly antagonistic lycan from Post-Apocalyptic Hollywood, now going by the name Mark Stanovich. After his inoculation and basic training he turned out to be excellent at his job, quickly rising to the position of security detail group leader.
Admiral Luigi Bagatelle was also on the Regan, performing a final inspection. His presence was critical - in both technical and celebratory manners, as it was to be Mankind's longest attempt at travel with the hook since its invention by Max Gunnarsson some two years prior.
Entering the bridge, Bagatelle watched with pride as everyone stood at attention, with Max bellowing, "Attention on deck! Officer on the bridge!"
"As you were."
"Sir, did the inspection pass muster?" asked Max.
"Looks good, Max. You've put together a fine crew."
"Well, I helped a bit," added Jennie, causing Bagatelle to turn and give her an inquisitive glare.
"Jennie, I received some intel that Johnson has had a psychotic breakdown. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Jennie seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then said, "Hmm, sorta, Admiral. I kinda paid him a visit last week."
"And just what did you do, little sister?" he demanded, an ominous tone lurking in the back of his throat.
"Oh, you're gonna love this one, G," said Max, rolling his eyes.
"Recursive memory loop, like a waking dream. He sees himself with his puke of a son. Everything's beautiful until Max pops up and kills Ryder. Then he forgets and it starts all over again. Kinda cool, if you ask me. It'll be like that for the rest of his life."
"What about food breaks?" asked Max, as he tried to stifle his laughter.
"They've already got him on an intravenous drip, as well as a catheter and a colostomy bag. He'll be bedridden and catatonic for the rest of his life. I checked up on him yesterday, just to make sure my cantus stuck," said Jennie.
Bagatelle ground his teeth and considered berating his sibling for a moment, but decided to let things be. Due to Constitutional restraints Johnson had the luxury of living, and whatever Jennie had done was certainly deserved.
At least she didn't kill him.
Looking around at the crew, Jennie said, "Ensign, I believe we're ready." She paused briefly, and turned to look at Max and Bagatelle. "We're just waiting for the Captain's orders. Oh, Admiral, the Commodore can take you to the Revolution," while nodding her head toward Gabriel.
Pandy Vendetta turned and looked at her new superior officer, giving Jennie a wink.
"Commander, I'm ready when you are."
"I defer to the Captain," said Jennie.
"And I defer to the Commander," responded Max.
Bagatelle walked over to the archangel and the two disappeared with a light pop. Moments later Gabriel was back on the bridge. Most everyone on the ship was aware of the special nature of their commanding officers, and gave Gabriel's departure and return little further thought.
"Jennie, you do realize you could use Socrates to easily find your ghanlo," said the archangel.
"I know… Commodore, but I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way."
"Old-fashioned? This is new technology, my dear, while Socrates has existed for eons."
"Well, old-fashioned for me," she said with a small grin. "By the way, where is Jessica?"
"She is in Hollywood, visiting with her friends."
Turning to face the forward view screen, Jennie put a copper-colored hand on Pandy's shoulder and continued," Ens
ign, execute the hook."
An enormous gash opened in the sky directly above the Juggernaut Class vessel. As massive, spear-like machinery pushed up and out of the ship's top and dipped into the rift, the Reagan disappeared from sight and sensors.
EPILOGUE
Montmartre, Paris, France - 1976
To any passerby, the two middle-aged women seated at the Café des Deux Moulins were perfectly ordinary. They watched the crowds of locals and tourists while they sipped their coffees, content as a light snow fluttered onto the classic berets they wore.
However, the two were anything but normal; a father and son were having a discussion of recent events, masked by clever disguises.
"Are you now satisfied? Mankind has been spared and shall one day reach biologic singularity, while bringing your children along in evolutionary harmony."
"Quite satisfied, Father. By the way, might I say your jacket is quite fetching? I do like that color."
"Oh shush. I enjoy this period. I find it quite relaxing, and like to pass my time painting pictures of the landscape. Paris is one of my favorite cities - The City of Lights - such an apt description. Speaking of identification, would you tell me something? When you decide to reconstitute your corporeal form, do you plan on keeping that wretched name, Draagh?"
"I am rather fond of it, Father. But a name is merely a name. Nothing more - nothing less. It is a way of identifying someone. You have had many. Which was your favorite?"