I chuckled. “Yeah, people like their families.” I was the only one who laughed. Maybe that was too psychopathic even for the cold killer I was playing. I always take things too far.
“Please! They didn’t do anything!” the tied-up Dallian begged. But that was the point, as Mazen had already expressed. This was supposed to be cruel and send a message.
“You should probably stop this,” Dip said.
We have to be careful here and focus on the mission. Acting right here and now is dangerous. We still didn’t have the full layout of where we were and didn’t know how many hostiles we might face.
“Do you not think you could do this?” Dip asked.
He was taunting me. Of course I thought I could do this, but that wasn’t the point. It was riskier, and I was part of a team. I was supposed to keep them in mind and not put the ultimate objective at risk, because billions of lives were on the line and blah blah blah.
I took another look at Diane. I could see her steeling herself for this: standing idly by while innocent people — including children — were gunned down. She also wanted to do the right thing, ultimately, which meant focusing on the objective and not saving a few people when that could put the whole mission at risk. For her, that meant letting a little bit of the humanity inside her die, humanity I never even had in the first place. Just another act that would inch her toward being me.
This was like that trolley problem Diane had talked about: Billions of lives against four. But unlike a contrived thought experiment, nothing was certain. I could be letting these four die for no reason — just so when we made our move, we’d be more prepared.
Eh. Nothing is ever perfect.
I walked over and tapped Mazen on the shoulder. “Hey, sorry, bud, but if you touch these people, I’m going to have to kill you.”
Mazen stared at me, more confusion than fear. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah, you probably thought that was a translator error, but no, I’m threatening to kill you. You’re threatening to hurt innocent people, so I’m threatening you. Culturally, that’s a pretty universal thing that happens. Maybe you’re not used to it because you’ve been in control so much, but yeah, right now I’m threatening your life because of your misdeeds. Understand?”
Mazen continued to stare at me, unsure of what to do. The two armed Dallians stared at me as well. The Dallian tied to the chair looked at me with confusion, as did his wife, clutching the kids. I took a quick glance at my partners, and while Diane had the wherewithal not to react, Wade and Sylvia looked a bit shocked at the sudden turn of events. I had made an awkward situation for everyone. I do that. I am just not good at being social.
The silence became uncomfortable as everyone just stared. But it was Mazen’s move. I had made that clear. Or so I thought. I am not used to working with others — just Diane, with whom I had pretty good nonverbal communication. As I concentrated on Mazen and the two armed Dallians, waiting for one of them to react, I was a bit surprised to hear a shot behind me, and it took me part of a second to process what was going on as one of the armed Dallians fell — Sylvia had started firing. That slight pause gave Mazen enough time to punch me in the face as I reached for my guns.
The world exploded in pain, the stupid Fazium in me once again working overtime. I fell, my hands clenched in agony, unable to grab my guns. Mazen had his, and it was pointed at me. And that’s it: the one mistake that ends it all. But I’ve been there a number of times, and once again, it was not my time, as Mazen was ripped by multiple shots from Diane’s direction.
I tried to fight through the pain to assess the situation. Mazen and the two armed Dallians were down, and we had a moment’s — but just a moment’s — respite. Sylvia was swearing at me. Wade had a gun in hand and was quietly watching the entrance to the room. Diane was over me, offering me a hand. This had just started, and it was already looking pretty grim. The idea that we could survive this pretty much rested on my ability to operate at full capacity.
I ignored Diane’s hand and instead concentrated on my own, using force of will to get the muscles in them to stop tensing in pain so they could operate again. I forced them under my coat to grab my guns, though I could barely feel them through the pain still radiating from where I had been struck in the face. Next, I moved my legs, having to almost remember how to operate them to get them under me and bring myself back to standing.
So now I was up on my legs, guns in hand. I was still in intense pain, but things were looking much better. There was shouting. Danger was coming. But I don’t like to wait for it to come to me. The first priority was that room with the communications equipment. Sylvia had calmed herself, no longer in a screaming tirade but quietly watching the door, along with Wade and Diane.
I stepped toward the door. “Follow my lead.” Or don’t. I had this. This was my element right here, and others would get in the way.
So I shot everybody.
I don’t know how to make this part sound interesting. I walked from room to room, guns in hand, and shot the “bad people.” They tried to shoot me first, but I’m much quicker. And, frankly, I just have a lot of experience walking around a building shooting everyone. It’s kind of my bread and butter. The only complication was the pain still surging through my body — not that I’d never worked through pain before — and that I had my “team” backing me up, which I think motivated me to charge ahead even quicker so they weren’t a factor. I move very quickly, and in the past I never cared if I accidentally shot someone I wasn’t supposed to. That part is still new for me.
“I think we’re clear,” Wade said as he came back into the communications room, where the rest of us were with guns drawn.
Sylvia snapped out of high alert mode to glare at me again. It was Wade, though, who got in my face. “You nearly got us all killed.” His voice was measured — clearly angry but restrained. “You do not spring surprises on us like that.”
I put my guns away and rubbed the spot where Mazen had punched me. It was still throbbing, but I could deal. “Let’s be clear: You’re tagging along with me, and I don’t owe you anything.”
Wade frowned. Sylvia looked ready to lay into me, but Diane spoke first. “Rico was just trying to help that family.”
“We have a whole galaxy full of people to worry about!” Sylvia yelled. “You mess up, we won’t even be able to count how many die.” She rubbed her head, gun still in hand. “You guys are the hired killers; why do you keep making us sound like the uncaring psychopaths?”
“We understand what’s at stake here,” Diane assured Sylvia and Wade. She looked at me. “And you’ll give us more warning before doing anything rash ... even if your intentions are good?”
“I will do my best,” I said. “I’m still learning about being part of a team.”
Sylvia sighed and went to one of the nearby terminals and started operating it. “This is such a stupid plan.”
“But we’ll do our best to implement it,” Wade stated. His eyes locked on me. “We’re putting a lot of trust in you.”
I nodded. I thought about saying they were right to put that trust in me, but lying is wrong. And they were right to be mad at me; I did act rashly and stupidly. It was my understanding, though, that that was just part of being a “good person.”
The Dallian family we saved cautiously entered the room, the mother covering the eyes of the children, as none of these rooms were very kid-safe, with all the guns and dead bodies lying around.
Diane put her gun down at her side and approached the family. “Are you okay?”
The adult male just nodded, still a bit stunned. The female managed a weak smile.
“What are your names?” Diane asked. Her tone was soothing and kind. That must have worked well for her when she was an assassin, though now she was trying to be genuine.
“Eldan.” He motioned to the female. “This is my wife, Rayina, and children, Koltn and Kasra.”
“You saved us,” Rayina said, still holding her kids tight.
“Who are you?”
“We’re working with the Galactic Alliance to keep Calipa from falling under Fathom control,” Diane explained. “You are all safe for the moment.”
“I’ve heard rumors the Angel of Death is working with you,” Eldan said. “Is he coming here?”
“He might already be here,” I answered, smiling. He looked confused, and then I realized he only saw me get dropped with one punch, not walk around the building shooting everyone.
Wade approached Eldan. “You work with the resistance to the Fathom on this planet?”
Eldan nodded. “I’ve tried. I’m just an engineer, though, not a revolutionary. They control almost everything here already, and while everyone knows they need to be stopped, we’re all too scared to try anything. They almost killed —” He looked at his family, and his voice fell away. He took a moment to recover and turned to Wade and then me. “Can the Fathom be stopped?”
“Fear is all they have,” I said. “We take that away, and they will fall. We could use your help, though, if you know others you can rally.”
“Rally to do what?” Eldan asked.
I smiled. “Just watch the news. You’ll know what to do next.”
CHAPTER 17
I tensed at a sudden movement toward me.
Sylvia glared at me. “I’m adjusting your suit.” She turned to Diane. “You’re his girlfriend. You make him look presentable.”
The four of us stood alone in a tram as it flew through the air toward our destination.
“I’m fine,” I told Sylvia, and then looked at Diane for confirmation. She gave me a slight smile and a thumbs-up.
Sylvia stepped back, beside Wade. “This is a stupid plan.”
Wade sighed. “As you’ve already said. But let’s make it work.” The tram descended to the earth and soon came to a stop in an underground station. We walked up another well-lit stairway until we exited into a field in the open air. There were many people there — mainly Dallians but also several humans — most of them moving toward what looked like a dense cluster of trees but on closer inspection was a building. Light shone through gaps in the trees that were actually windows, and at the base of the trees was an opening, which was the main entrance to the building.
Inside looked like a regular building with white walls. Just inside the door was a checkpoint where everyone entering was scanned for weapons. Armed security stood by — rough-looking Dallians. These were Baixas syndicate operatives. No police here. Only the guns of thugs controlled this place.
We passed through the scan without triggering any alarms, as we had ditched our weapons before coming here. This wouldn’t hinder me, but I wondered how the others would deal with starting out unarmed. I was counting on them, which felt odd. We stepped off to the side before entering the conference hall. “You all ready for this?” I asked.
“Are you?” Sylvia rejoined.
“You’re counting on these people, and they are counting on you,” Dip said. “You should give them some encouragement.”
I looked at Diane. I could tell she was nervous. She was a very brave woman used to combat, so I figured this was something other than fear. Maybe it was anxiety over the possibility of killing again. She wanted to get away from that, I believed, but so far had not been successful.
Wade and Sylvia looked a little nervous as well, but that seemed more attributable to a person they didn’t trust leading them into a dangerous situation unarmed. And unlike with Diane, I truly couldn’t care less whether they lived or died, beyond how useful they were to me. But for personal growth, I knew Diane thought I needed to learn to care about other people, too. This didn’t seem the time to make that much effort, but I decided to heed Dip’s advice.
“I know this isn’t the best plan you’ve ever heard,” I said, “but I truly believe it’s our best option. I’ll do my best here, and I need you all to back me up.”
Diane just smiled and nodded at me.
“I want to see this work,” Wade said.
“And if it fails, it won’t be because of our lack of effort,” Sylvia added. She did not like me, but I couldn’t fault her much for that.
“All right. Let’s do this.” I led the way into the conference hall. It looked like a regular conference hall, with no illusion of nature. There were hundreds of seats around a stage, nearly all of them filled. Baixas security guards walked the aisles. The four of us split up to cover different sections of the hall. I headed for a station near the stage.
On the stage was an older Dallian in what looked like their version of formalwear — at least it was more clothing than most of the other Dallians wore. I was pretty sure that was Taelor, the Fathom’s candidate. Next to him was a female Dallian. It was hard for me to judge a Dallian’s attractiveness, but she appeared to be the Fathom’s Messenger.
Taelor began to speak, his voice echoing throughout the hall. “It has been a trying time for Calipa, but we are nearly through it. Since the incident on Nar Valdum, the threat of instability and collapse has loomed over every planet in the Galactic Alliance. It is now time for fear to end. With my election and the support of the New Alliance, which is bringing all the planets back into one working community ...” I could hear some grumbling at the mention of the Fathom’s government, but Taelor ignored it. “... we can all thrive again, no longer uncertain about the future. That’s why this election is important. We need to speak with one clear voice about who holds the mantle of the Galactic Alliance and who are the pretenders attempting to hold us back.”
“There are no available seats up here,” said a Dallian, one of the armed Baixas thugs. He was backed by a second Dallian.
“I’m actually not here to sit and watch,” I told them. I then gave the signal to start. “Ping ‘em.”
While at the Baixas syndicate headquarters, we had rigged up a special sequence on their communications equipment. Now every Baixas goon was being hit with a high-pitched screech. They were now quite easy to spot, as they were currently bent over, clutching their ears — including the two guards in front of me. I grabbed a pistol from the one nearest me, shot him, and moved in close to the other, shooting him as well while grabbing a second pistol. I quickly charged forward, shooting two more doubled-over guards before jumping up on the stage. The four armed guards up there had started to recover and aim their weapons, but two quick shots from each of my two guns put them down. Now there was just me, Taelor, and the Messenger. I could hear more shooting and yelling, but I had to assume my team had also obtained weapons and were similarly handling the other threats. That’s what working with a team means — you sometimes just have to trust them and hope that trust doesn’t get you killed. A leap of faith, really, as anyone who has ever dealt with people before knows they’re all very fallible.
Taelor looked at me in terror. The Messenger seemed more annoyed. I ignored them for the moment and approached the podium and microphone. I could see some dead bodies in the aisles and Diane, Wade, and Sylvia spread out, scanning for any more enemies.
“Hello,” I said, my voice echoing through the conference hall. “My name is Rico. You might know me as the Angel of Death. You probably saw me shoot up a bunch of corrupt politicians on Nar Valdum.” I looked at the shaking Taelor and smiled. “But that’s not what I’m here for today.” I looked back at the audience and the cameras. “On the contrary, I am here to help this election go forward, but it’s not much of an election if there aren’t choices. So that is why I am announcing my candidacy for Calipa’s representative to the Codix Federation. My platform is simple: I am going to kill them all. There are thugs and killers who now roam the streets with impunity because they serve the Fathom. This ends today.” I emphasized the point by shooting an already dead Baixas thug who lay near me. “And I will especially kill the Fathom themselves. They hide away, murdering millions and demanding your allegiance, but I will find them and I will bring them justice in a most brutal fashion. But I need your support. So please vote for me, and we will see fear in
the eyes of those who deserve it.”
The people sat in stunned silence while they processed my words, but a few scattered claps started, which grew and grew until much of the auditorium was standing and applauding. I don’t give speeches a lot, so it was nice to have some positive feedback.
The Messenger scowled at me. No fear. Just anger. The Fathom controlled everyone with fear, so if I just poked a few holes in that, everything would collapse.
“You can’t run for office here!” she yelled over the applause. “You are a murderer and a psychopath.”
“Actually ...” You always need to emphasize that word. Especially when correcting a woman. “I checked the laws, and it’s very liberal here. They are free to write me in as a candidate, and I can serve if I win. And being a murderer and a psychopath doesn’t make me ineligible for office. In fact, that’s my platform. I’m a murderer and a psychopath aimed at you people.”
The Messenger ignored me and looked at Taelor, but he was still too frightened to move. So she turned to address the audience, who had quieted down enough to listen. “I cannot emphasize to you enough what a mistake it would be to support this man. He could get everyone killed. Everyone.” I could read my audience, and the fear was creeping back into them.
“Counterpoint,” I said. I then shot the Messenger three times in the chest. She had enough time to give me an expression of shock before collapsing dead to the floor.
“That looked excessive,” Dip chided me.
I’m new to campaigning. Hopefully they’ll give me some leeway. I turned to address the audience. “They need this planet. They need Calipa under their thumb. They’re scared of losing it, and they should be. Let’s continue to put fear in them. And then let’s crush them. Thank you. Please vote for the Angel of Death tomorrow.” I turned to Taelor, still standing exposed on the stage and looking like he was trying to will himself to be invisible. “You can have the mic back now. Continue your speech.”
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