Silence, Blinkypoet [phonics story books .txt] 📗

did." He sighed. "I don't care of which you convict me. It matters not. Repentance is due, in blood if possible. Either way, my life is forfeit."
Merril snorted. "I'm trying to save your ass and the asses of every other of your kind who comes down here. Is that all you have to say?"
He returned her sad smile. "Blood for blood. Both your people and my Commander understand at least that much." He paused. "If you could do one thing for me? Send a copy of the recording of these proceedings and my death to my Commander, please."
Green eyes narrowed and she locked gazes with him. A feeling like electric shock shivered through him. She was a priest. Of what Power, he could not name, but a priest none-the-less. A slow, sad smiled curved her wrinkled lips. "I will do so, priest. This small Court is now adjourned. Your execution will probably be tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Merril. Could you walk me to my cell please?"
She nodded and glared at the rest to silence their protests. "I will walk with you." She cut him free from the chair, but left the ropes about his wrists and the short hobbling rope at his ankles. One hand lifted him to his feet- she was stronger than she looked. This desert life had hardened her instead of sandblasting her down. He walked slowly under her direction in silence. The clunk! thunk! of the cell doorlocks were loud in the underground corridor. Stepping in, he paced forward three steps and turned, folding himself into a kneeling position on the floor facing the thick metal door.
"I will stand vigil for you, priest." Merril said from the doorway. "And may whatever Power you swear by have mercy on your eternal soul." Her voice was tired, but he knew it was not simple fatigue that plagued her.
"Thank you, priest," he whispered and began to hum as she closed the door. Oddly she didn't lock it. He knew he could overpower her if he wished to escape. She might be strong, but strength was not everything. Smiling sadly, he dismissed that thought and began to sing softly. His murmured song circled the room but went no further than the seated figure just outside the door. Sleep took him quickly.
Waking as the sun washed at the outer walls of the dessert compound, he waited. He was not impatient for there was no time here. Just the slight pause between in breath and out breath. The door boomed as someone knocked on the other side, startling him momentarily.
"Come," he called after a few moments.
Merril pushed the door open and set a small tray before him. A single glass of water and a small vial of some kind lay on it. She picked up the glass and held it for him to drink. Finishing it quickly, but savoring each sip of clear water, he nodded when he was done. Slightly wrinkled hands picked up the vial and uncapped it, spilling out a drop of scented oil that exploded in his nostrils onto her finger. She touched it to his forehead. Then, to his utter shock, she stripped his shirt off with three quick slashes of a laser knife and touched the sage-scented oil to his heart. Without a word, she half-helped, half-lifted him to his feet. She led him into the main compound street and he smiled bitterly at the crowds gathered there. Every single body in the compound would be here today. And he was certain that there were others who would relish this, recorded and replayed for them countless times.
Two men and one woman stood in the center of the street. One Space Pilot and two Allied Groundtroopers in full dress uniform and heavily armed. Merril led him to the far wall and pulled a scrap of cloth from her pocket. She offered it to him, almost ridiculously courteous. The portable recorder winked at him from her shoulder. She was fulfilling her promise.
"Blindfold?"
"No."
"Very well." She walked to the three where they stood in the hot sun. He did not hear what she said, but the three saluted her and one held out a pulse-gun, grip first. Thumbing the safety off, she turned to him. "The small Court of this compound has found Brin Jerrico guilty of war-crimes committed during the Moonbase Embargo War. He is not guilty of the murder of Janessa Tercoin. He is to be executed, none the less." She paused as the crowd yelled and screamed in unholy joy. "Silence!" Her voice bounced off the high white and gray walls that glowed iridescent in the desert sun.
They were silent.
"Justice will be done by my hand," she called, turned, and fired. In that instant, he knew. She was an Avatar and had known what he meant to do the minute he’d been brought to her attention. Mentally, he smiled. She would use this as a lesson for the rest of the compound. Avatars made lessons of everything. The split-second agony of the pulse-gun clawed through him but was strangely distant. His world went white.
Survival was not always winning.

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Publication Date: 08-27-2009

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