Chapter 14: Preparing Death

I received a dark red dress and hood, just like Dawn’s, and someone handed me a little golden pin with the Justice Logo and the sword. Then I was sworn in as a Deputy Executioner, a member of the Justice Department, Corrections and Punishment Division. That was one title and career I certainly hadn’t dreamt about. After a two hour session under a cerebral uploader, cramming my head with laws and regulations, the Union Judge updated my CITI and said, “Don’t look at me like that. Even as a Klack I can see your frown. I promise you it’s going to be over soon and you will have done the Union a great service.”

The ever present Union Police officer handed me a holster with a blaster. “As a member of the Corrections and Punishment Division you’re authorized to carry up to Level VII weapons at all times. I suggest you don’t advertise your status.”

Dawn came in the room and said, “I’m terribly sorry for all this. I really never planned for it to turn out that way.” She too now carried a belt with a holster.

“I know. I can’t blame anyone but myself. Somehow I have a great talent for ending up in such situations.”

She sighed and said, “Put on your hood. We’re going to check the gallows and see the prisoners now.” She handed me an official PDD set to clipboard mode and said, “This part is easy. You don’t have to do much. Just check off the points on the list as we complete them and record everything I say and do.”

This time we went out the front door and the crowds went silent as they saw us, but then someone yelled, “Make ‘em twitch a few minutes. Those bastards sold my sister to the Togar.”

After we sat in the Police flier I asked, “Do you know why hanging is used?”

She nodded. “It’s one of the ten execution methods approved by the Union. Hanging is a truly ancient method of execution for pirates and is also used by the Navy to execute mutineers and traitors.”

She added, “Union member societies usually have their own methods and most are acceptable to the Justice Department. In some cases the delinquent may choose their form of execution. It really depends on the culture, the crime and the species of the delinquent. You could hang a Klack all day long without ill effect. There was one X101 execution where they simply turned him off. Hanging can be rough and I hope it will all go quickly.”

The gallows were a metal scaffold put up in a picturesque park. Like the rest of the city, it was deep below the ice, buried into the rocky core of the planet. Most of Corri-City was a network of tunnels with housing and businesses built into the tunnel walls, normally about seven hundred thousand beings lived and worked here, but the recent events and the news of the executions had swelled it to over a million, or so the Police Chief told me.

The town center was built in an artificial cave about a kilometer in diameter. Here the houses and buildings not hugging the cave walls looked like regular buildings elsewhere, with windows, doors, advertising signs and roofs. There were ten streets coming from the tunnel arms leading to the center of the city where the park sat, with real Terran oaks and grass. A little fusion sun was suspended under the cave ceiling.

The drab gray scaffold seemed out of place in the green park. On top of the scaffold, mounted between two upright columns, a cross-beam held twenty nooses. The gallows were cordoned off by police and barriers. Robots and workers put up rows and rows of chairs on the other side of the barrier. Twenty elongated boxes were just being unloaded from a cargo flyer and placed underneath the scaffold. More than the nooses, it brought home to me what would happen here tomorrow.

Beyond the park and the chairs, I noticed vendors putting up tables and sales booths. I pointed them out and Dawn said, “It’s inevitable. Even though the law prohibits turning executions into entertainment venues, we can’t prohibit vendors from putting up sales stands on private property. And while this aspect galls me, they’ll do a brisk business tomorrow. There will be plenty of news media, huge cheering crowds and there are always a few protesters, not that I think we’ll see any tomorrow. This is basically a military installation, even though Corri-Door is a civilian colony.”

A Sentmac X101 and a blue faced Thauran in work coveralls greeted us at the bottom of the stairs. The machine being patted the hand railing. “We put great effort into making it nice and solid, Chief Executioner.”

The Thauran was chewing something. “It’s the biggest one we’ve built so far for the Justice Department.”

Dawn turned to me. “That’s Seris Seveneightseven, he runs a small specialty business building execution devices such as scaffolds for the Justice Department. I’ve worked with him a few times before.”

I tried to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice. “I guess he found a niche market.”

The whole contraption was quite simple: a set of hydraulic arms would yank the cross-bar two meters in the air, suspending anyone attached to those nooses. Each noose had life sensors embedded and would turn twenty green lights on a small control board to red when there were no life signs detected. Trapdoors would then open and the bodies would be released and slide directly into the open coffins. All was thought out and very efficient, in a macabre way.

Dawn checked the equipment and tested a random noose with a test dummy. I was behind her making the required check marks when she told me to do so. She told me that the Justice Department basically copied the Union Fleet manual on executions and she found there was no institution in the known universe more efficient in making detailed manuals on every possible subject. Dawn took great care and made sure every detail was checked, tested and approved in her inspection. She found a little drop of hydraulic fluid at one of the lines and made Seris check the line, then replace it and test the contraption again. Only then was she satisfied and we went on to the prison.

The prison was located in a drab prefab building underneath a force field dome on the surface of the planet. Every door was guarded by at least two fully armored and armed guards and one menacing robot. We passed through at least twenty doors till we reached the cell tract holding the prisoners. Dawn and I had to leave our weapons behind.

Each of the seventeen Dai was held in a small cell made of solid Ultronit, with Ultronit bars and a force field closing the cells along the corridor. The Dai were kept in clear plastic coveralls, I found this humiliating.

The prison guard who accompanied us said, “We have to keep them under high threat confinement as they may try to kill everyone including themselves. The coveralls have mittens that allow the prisoner to hold food cups and feed themselves, but keep fingers away from throats and eyes. They’re highly-trained warriors who know dozens of ways to kill with their bare hands.”

I still found it demeaning and I was sure there were other ways to hold a prisoner. Besides, if they commit suicide what was the harm, other than taking this sorry task away from the executioner?

None of the first ten Dai Dawn spoke to would even so much as part their lips, and simply stared into the distance. The eleventh looked somewhat younger than the rest and tried to spit, but his spittle evaporated as it hit the force field. “So what are you, some sort of priestesses?”

Dawn said, “I’m the Chief Executioner, tasked to fulfill the sentence tomorrow. We came to see if you have any last wish or request or if you have anyone you’d like to call or talk to. Do you wish to have a priest or some religious representative present?”

It took him a moment and then he understood. “You are the ones who are going to kill us tomorrow. Yes, I have a last wish. I want to fight your strongest and best warrior - knifes, swords, bare hands no matter. I don’t want to die by the hands of a woman.”

“This isn’t a choice you have. Executioners have no face and no gender. We’re simply tools of justice. You may request something to eat, a special song, music, entertainment or something similar. According to your documents you refused to be pardoned by joining the Dai clans that have become Union members.”

“You Unions know nothing of the Dai. Offering me to become an Ulkatai slave in an enemy clan is worse than death; to be Ulkatai in a clan of Okthi-Dai not only my spirit but the spirits of all my forefathers would be shamed.”

I glanced at the clip board and pulled up his information. He was one of the youngest tribal chiefs known to the Dai and took part in the Partook massacre. According to his mind dump he had sold over a thousand Partook slaves to the slave traders of Alvor’s Cove.

He was eager to make himself a name. He was among the first tribal leaders to pursue the tribes that made the decision to join the Union and was among the first to cross into Union Space with blazing cannons.

No matter what Dawn said after that exchange made him speak another word.

The rest of the Dai were as stoic and silent as the others. Three of the delinquents weren’t Dai. One was a thief caught with a whole kilo of Califerm at a colony 12 light years from Corri-Door and brought here to be executed after a local court had found him guilty. The second was a Human Saresii found guilty of using psionics to influence others to empty their credit strips into his and then commit suicide. I had to admit this was a case where I fully agreed with the sentence. Making them commit suicide had to be the most heinous and cowardly way to kill someone.

The last one was, to my surprise, a woman. She had killed her husband and her mother-in-law. She was a resident of one of the floating cities and had been arrested in the Bubble Top restaurant, celebrating with her lover.

She cried as she saw us, and pleaded for her life. I was glad for the hood. It provided me with distance. She finally asked for some food dish and some perfume. She wanted to have her hair done and Dawn promised to have a hair dresser come.

Finally outside again I realized how depressed I was and how much the prison and the fate of the 20 had affected me. Even though it was exactly the same artificially created air I felt I could breathe easier.

Dawn put her hand on my shoulder. “You did great. I know the first time is always the hardest.”

“I don’t mind your company Dawn but I sure hope this is the last time I ever have to do something like this.”

“We’re almost done; all that’s left is to file the paperwork and give the Justice Department my okay and then we’re off till tomorrow. The Department has found us accommodations here on Corri-Dorr, so we don’t have to go all the way back to the gas planet. We do have to get up early in the morning, you know.”

Interlude 15: Galactic Politics

The First among the Saresii Algear Moansti was one of the seven Elected. Saresii leaders were elected for life and were only replaced if they retired on their own or died. Though he was a biological male and over 260 years old, like all Saresii he appeared to be a beautiful, statuesque woman with long silvery hair and purple eyes, and like most he wore a skin-tight velvet suit.

A little while ago a man, from a Human colony world he had previously never heard of, came to Sares Prime One and asked for help for his deteriorating health. It turned out this Human was easily on par with all but the most powerful Saresii psionic talents and displayed not one but several psionic powers. He was a telepath, so skilled he could address and talk to three or four individuals at the same time and about different subjects, and had such precise telekinetic control he could influence his own cell structure to heal itself.

Egill Skallagrímsson of Nilfeheim was over five hundred years old, without the aid of any modern life expanding medicine, and had a Heidelberg Psi Index of over three thousand. No other Human of Terran origin had ever been measured that high. There were fewer than ten Saresii alive with psionics that powerful.

When he came to Sares it was determined he suffered a rare psionic ailment called Mohir Gland Disease that sometimes affected Saresii of similarly high talent. A careful treatment with refined Califerm and a temporary neutralization of his powers successfully restored the old man’s abilities; this and a physical medicine-cell refresh therapy bath and a detoxification of his body.

Egill had become a good friend of Algear. Egill, who was his planet’s representative to the Assembly, often came to Sares and Algear visited him frequently on Pluribus. The fact that Pluribus was connected via space train and the trip took only 15 minutes was helpful in growing this friendship. Algear found the old Human intelligent and they shared the same open grumpiness and the same sense of humor.

Algear shared with Egill secrets and concerns he wouldn’t share with most Saresii and certainly not with other Humans. He was confident Egill would keep his secrets as he had never shared with anyone that there was a fish-like creature on Nilfeheim that had given him his psionic abilities. Algear looked forward to meeting Tyr when the fish awoke from its seven year slumber. He knew Tyr’s peaceful life would come to an end if anyone ever heard about a god-like creature that could bestow psionic talents of such magnitude and therefore he’d take this secret to his grave and wouldn’t divulge this knowledge.

Algear had just arrived on Pluribus. There was much going on lately and while he wasn’t the official Sares representative, as the Highest Elected leader, he could speak for Sares at any time. As it became his habit he no longer went to the large Saresii alcove in the Assembly hall, but joined his friend in the little planet representative alcove far up in the Assembly sphere.

That day he had disturbing news. One of the Saresii micro-drones had returned from Kermac Prime. The bald headed meddlers were again up to something. There was no tangible evidence that the Kermac were responsible for the Y’All attacks but the conversations recorded indicated it was likely to be the case. Somehow they were able to call this menace and now they wanted to call whoever created the Y’All. If the recordings of the micro-drone were correct, they were the same ones who defeated the Celtest and destroyed all the Saresii colonies so long ago, the Dark Ones.

He simply needed more information on this and decided to contact the mysterious leader of the Terran Space Intelligence Service, code-named Cherubim, later today. He wanted to talk with Egill about it first. The old man had little knowledge of galactic affairs but despite or because of it he often looked at things differently and usually had a sensible take on things.

He slipped into the alcove and sat next to Egill, who seemed to be asleep. Without opening his eyes he grunted, “How can anyone find some rest if you make such a racket with those cursed high-heeled boots of yours?”

“You’re just jealous because you would break that wrinkled neck of yours trying to walk five meters in these. But then no Human male could.”

Egill opened one eye and grinned. “I bet my grandson could run circles around you doing just that.”

“Your grandson? I don’t think you told me that you actually have a grandson. Is he still alive, he must be quite old if he’s your grandson.”

“I just don’t want to add all the greats and grands required to be accurate. Human vocabulary simply hasn’t come up with an appropriate term. I should be long dead and forgotten.

“He will soon turn seventeen and is the son of a distant granddaughter of mine. He’s my pride and joy and if you ever meet him and tell him I said that, I’ll break your pretty neck.”

“You are talking about that Sif girl, right?”

“No, she’s not related to me. I told you about her. It was you who helped me to get her accepted at Politica University.”

“Yes, but despite her good looks she appears quite butch to me and I’ve never seen her in high-heeled boots.”

“If you’re implying that she prefers women, you’re correct. It’s why Tyr chose her to be the first female Warrior of Nilfeheim. She loved breaking into that previously all-male domain. She’s dating a Pan Saran woman right now, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Tell me about your grandson then, you never spoke of him and I thought I was your friend.”

“A nosy friend at that, I guess this is one of the side effects of your all-female society. Even the men love family gossip.”

The First Saresii spread his hands. “I guess that’s true to an extent, but you’re just as curious about me and Sares and pretty much everything else.” Algear sat down and dialed himself a cup of Terran tea from the refreshment menu. “Has he got psionic talents like you?”

“Right now he has not, but Tyr says he has great potential. Eric doesn’t really like psionics. In many ways he’s as Neo Viking as one can be.”

Algear noticed the almost invisible, proud smile on the usually brooding face of his friend, but kept quiet so as not to interrupt the Nilfeheim representative.

Egill dug into his chest pocket and handed Algear a small holosheet. On it he saw a young man riding on an incredibly huge and dangerous fish. “That’s Eric and Tyr. My big friend likes me, but I’ve known Tyr long enough to know he loves Eric. He took Eric to the bottom of the oceans and showed him places no Human has ever seen. Tyr bestowed on him an extra sense, it’s not psionic by the way but partially based on sonar and Lorenzii receptors, detecting electrical fields. It’s still developing and will take years to truly affect him, and he also will need time to learn how to use it.”

“That’s quite amazing. I truly look forward to meeting Tyr. So this grandson, is he still on Nilfeheim?”

“No, he has left Nilfeheim and right now he’s supposed to be on his way to the Union Fleet Academy, but him being Eric he ran into more trouble and even got involved in the Dai battle.”

“To the Academy of all places. Sounds like a strange choice for a Neo Viking, from what you tell me about your planet.”

“Eric had a tough childhood. His father beat his mother to death before his eyes when he was five. He was tortured and abused by his father in a way you couldn’t even imagine. Despite all this he turned out quite alright, except for a strange affliction. He likes to dress up like a girl, much like you. Out here it makes no big difference, but on Nilfeheim it’s a curse.”

“Maybe he should come to Sares and see that his affliction isn’t a handicap and is shared by 54 billion Saresii. I hope no one told him to get psycho-surgery.”

“I know his mind and he’s troubled by it. Back then I didn’t understand it, as you know I never left Nilfeheim until recently.” Egill looked into the distance. “By the way, it was he who suggested I come to you, the Saresii, to get help for my condition, and in a way saved my life. Tyr has a different concept of Humans and gender and never advised Eric. I should have made more of an effort to help him there. I even punished him and put his mind in that of a Low woman. I hoped the shock of being weak and about to get raped would cure him of his desire.”

“And that turned him into a coward or what some Terrans would call a sissy?”

Egill’s response was almost angry. “Eric, a coward? He killed a fangsnapper when he was twelve, with a kitchen knife. Speared rock sharks and two Tyrannos when he wasn’t even fifteen. There’s no man on Nilfeheim who would really dare to face him, he’s the best swordsman there is.

“Then he took my old submarine and rammed a space bus to save all Nilfeheim. He has a strong sense of honor and can’t stand idle if he perceives something unjust. That’s why I’m as proud as can be of him. He has this strange duality in him that troubles Eric very much, but he just might be the toughest Neo Viking of them all.”

Algear continued to look at the holoprint. “You should send for him, I’m sure we can help him with that on Sares. Where is he now?”

“After he saved a little slum girl and killed terrorists on Twilight, he went on to pick a fight with a Dai battleship, in a private yacht no less and he’s on Corri-Door right now, waiting to get to Arsenal.”

“You know Corri-Door is currently the focus of the entire galaxy.”

“He isn’t interested in executions and not even he could manage to get involved in that.”

Algear leaned forward to see what the Assembly was currently discussing and checked the schedule. The Kermac diplomatic delegation had arrived to discuss the Nogoll incident. Currently the representative of the Partook was speaking and declaring that he and his people would welcome the renegade Dai as new members, just as the rest of the Assembly had done a day earlier, but only if justice was done to those caught. The Partook resembled a large squirrel and just as easily got agitated. “We heard that there’s a problem with the execution on Corri-Door. We want to know if this is indeed the case.”

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Support the author's future writing by purchasing this book from Bookapy

Eric Olafson, First Journeys (Vol 2)

Vanessa Ravencroft

$4.00