Invasion By Betrayal

By Ron Lugge

Part Twenty

He'd been tearing through the house in a destructive rage, face wet with bitter tears, when he'd heard the skimmer fly in. In addition to their soft whistling, he heard the far lower roar of ground-cars in the distance. He'd jumped into the shower, to wash up real quick. After toweling himself off, and throwing some clothes on, Rah strode out to his porch. SZZT! Rah stiffened in utter agony, as a military-issue stun gun set to maximum sent a massive burst of electrical energy through his body. His implants did their best, but their best wasn't good enough. Electricity was one of the hardest energy fields to block, yet since it was difficult to transmit no one did much experimenting with blocking it via shielding. Normally a non-conductive armor was part of any soldiers supporting equipment.

However, despite the beliefs of the designers that had created his implants, Rah didn't have a full support load out. Many thousands of times the electrical current they were meant to take surged through all of Rah's implants, the pain was intense, yet Rah survived. He shouldn't have, as at maximum power a stun gun would kill almost any known being. He staggered, but didn't fall, but his implants were another matter as almost all of them were reduced to slag. Those that weren't were in auto-shutdown, awaiting repairs. Rah's senses suddenly decreased as he was stripped of sensory implant boosters, leaving him with his "natural" senses which were still several times better than normal humans. He turned, and faced his assailant.

"You?" Rah's voice portrayed utter shock, and surprise. He had never anticipated this possibility.

"Aye, its me monster. Did ye not think that I would seek revenge for the most unwholesome murder of mine only child? I know not how you survived my weapon's blast, but thy immunity to it shalt avail thee little against mine blade!" The velvety, rich baritone of Flick, Jessica's father, rolled through the area, followed by a thump and a smooth metallic ring as dropped his gun and drew his family's sword. Loosely based off of the Japanese Katana blade, it was made out of the finest of modern composites when it was constructed five thousand years ago, directly before the great fall. Even now scientists labored to create tools that could damage other such relics, in an effort to study it. Flick's large, rough frame easily bore the weight of the blade. He spat out, voice full of hatred, "Thy heart's blood shall soon be spilt thou monster!" Flick rushed at Rah, blade held high in his right hand hand, the curve of the blade bringing the point downward.

Rah stood still until the last moment, rolling to Flick's right and under Flick's slash. Flick swiftly brought his blade around low, its arc cutting through the space that Rah had rolled through. But Rah was no longer there, and Flick brought his blade back up into guard position-high above his head, held one handed, with his second hand low and outward to maintain balance. Rah had run out into the open fields, where his mobility would give him a greater advantage. "Fine beast. If thou wishes to prolong thy agony, so be it." Flick pronounced, drawing out the words and giving his judgment. His rage demanded more, and he raised his voice, speaking at a faster clip, "For no trick shall succeed in saving thee, not even the accursed strength with which you tore my daughter into shreds!"

Again, Flick charged, but this time he took more time about it, and aimed his blow more deliberately. His arms again snapped his hand around, wrists locked, reversing the angle of the blade, as he brought his them down to sweep the blade through his opponent's chest. Only instead of pulling through with the entire sweep, he changed the blade's course mid swing to swing through the space to his right-exactly where Rah had rolled before. His wrists and arms nearly snapped from the effort required to exert that much force on the blade, but even so he failed. He'd surprised Rah with his speed, but Rah leapt backwards, so as to be ready to take advantage of any weakness. If Flick had repeated his prior move, Rah would have been sliced in half. Rah knew now that it was as much a battle of wits as off strength and speed now.

Rah decided to attempt to appeal to what remained of Flick's reason. "Sir, I swear, I attempted no ill upon your child. I loved her, and was going to propose to her! Believe me, I would never betray your-"

"I TRUSTED THEE!" Flick roared, and charged again. This time he brought his blade down and stabbed, while his opponent ducked under the blade and rolled. Flick tripped, but snapped his left hand against the ground and flipped back onto his feet, squatting. Before he could bring himself back up and turn to face his opponent, Rah had one arm around his neck and the other had taken the blade from his hand. Rah tossed the blade away, and let go.

"Please, let me explain what happened! Juni-"

"JUNI TOLD ME ALL ABOUT IT!" Flick shouted, but didn't charge. "He told me of thy bargain," he spat the word out, "and how you agreed to share Jessica with him in return for a chance to take his sister upon thy sword." Flick grew even angrier as he worked his way into his tirade, face growing red. "I cannot believe how thou didst betray both me and Jessica with such a villainous oath! And by then betraying both Juni and I by slaughtering both of the twain in a moment of bloodlust you forsook any shattered remnant of thine honor, and deserve nothing neither more nor less than death despite the dearth of proof!" Flick's voice took on an ironic twist, "Aye, though the Kirk clan claims that 'all is fair, so long as no foul can be found.'" Flick then shouted out, voice the epitome of rage, "I spit upon their idea of honor, for something is foul whether or not tis ever found out. It is given that evil is evil and good is good regardless of evidence, for tis only intent that determines the deeds nature. Intent to do good is good even when comes to ill so long as action is not something all good men call evil, and intent to do ill is always ill, despite whate'er results may come of it. Thy evil canst never be but evil, and I will hear no more! Not e'en though the entirety of the Kirk clan doth come undo my house and attempt to remonstrate onto my better nature to prove that your actions are blameless merely because of thy success at hiding evidence! My better nature requires thy blood, for death must follow death, and none may hide from the bittersweet taste of vengeance! Accursed be the soul that does not wipe away all trivial fond records, and the commandment for vengeance leave all alone within the book and volume of their brain!"

"Hamlet is it?" Rah shrieks back. "Then why not envenom your blade as Laertes did? You are as badly deceived as he ever was! Though the nature of the deceit is different, again you are spurred to revenge for false reasons. For neither Hamlet nor I sought the death of the one we killed, we sought the death of one and so brought about the death of another. I sought Juni's life, not your daughters. Juni was the one responsible for her death; he is the one who had her transported into that vile chamber! If you seek responsibility, look at him, the one who tried to rape her not me the one who tried to save her from him! Juni Kirk did bring her death about, and I swear to you I had no knowledge of how to stop it!"

"LIAR! Thou must e'en now know that thoust canst not stand against mine strength and therefore, as tis in seeming your sole hope to survive, seek to blunt my purpose! I say NAY! Thy soul shall follow mine daughters until it reaches the crystal gates where the scales of heaven lie and it be sent to the black abyss of the beast himself! Yea, into the blackest pit of the abyss, where the beast himself doth gnaw on bones of regret and sorrow, wishing verily that he sought not to rule all."

Rah and Flick stood off, both powerful being with the will to kill. Though Rah didn't know it, yet, he was still being tested. Flick suspected much of the truth-far more, he hoped, than Rah did. If Rah knew the full of the truth, it would be dangerous. Far to dangerous. He'd seen what the others had been capable of, when taken by surprise and still program-bound. Rah had evidently gone far beyond his programming, and perhaps had regained enough sense of self to be termed human again. Mentally, at least, as he could never come close to being human physically.

Flick drew his rage back about him, realizing that he was musing on the one thing he must not think. Not until after this, until he had gained enough evidence to decide. He'd continue to aim to kill-even his best efforts would avail him little, unless he decided to unleash- Again, he cut the though off before it could form. He watched Rah's tear streaked face, as Rah struggled to find the words. Rah's form was excellent, as was to be expected of him, but it was clear he relied too much on his implants for fighting. His form left several points open. There, and there, and there. Flick worked his attack out carefully in his mind, and held it ready.

"I sorrow that you feel so." Rah stated softly, almost in a sad whisper. "If such is your feeling," he continued, pausing often as though to think his next word through carefully, "then we can not... can not... avoid this fight, can we?"

"Nay, we cannot." Flick's voice was as hard as steel, but he still hoped Rah didn't hear the quiver in it. Rah flinched back, slowly, turning his head away from the tone. Tears shone in his eyes.

"Then so be it." His voice held infinite sorrow. "I will try not to harm you."

"Don't worry, I am prepared for this, monstrosity." Flick stated, knowing that to be a lie. Rah heard nothing of the uncertainty, only the determination. It was not determination to kill, as he thought, but determination to take the needed risk. Rah backed up a step, and switched from his defensive stance to an offensive one. Then, with sudden, blinding speed, he struck. His hands were nothing more than a blur to Flick, but Flick still managed to duck aside from one and block the other. Flick snapped to an attack, but before his blows landed Rah's had sent him flying backwards through the air. Suddenly, the sun clouded over. Neither combatant noticed. Each one was back at it, hands a blur as for the first time in many years, Rah met someone with the ability to meet, and match him. Rah had strength, speed, and reflexes on his side, but he still couldn't match the experience of Flick. Flick knew every trick in the book, and several not in it. The two grappled with each other, one aiming to disable, the other to kill. Then flick broke off. Rah had had several opportunities to strike a lethal blow, but he'd taken none. That alone spoke of how well he'd broken his programming. Only one final test remained.

"Code alpha-strike-zulu-zule-one-nine-nine-nine."

Rah froze, and started quivering back and forth. Cords stood out on his neck and arms as all his muscles violently locked themselves. Shock filled his face, and then a new rage, one as old as his freedom. Flick sat down, and said simply "Sit when you can, if you can, Rah." Flick then closed his eyes, and started meditating. Time passed, and a thunderstorm broke. Rah still stood motionlessly. Eventually, Flick stood. "I was in error. I had thought you had broken enough of that monstrous programming to break the shutdown code that was created to control ye as a last resort. I had hoped otherwise-" Flick broke off, and the fight began anew. It had taken Rah a while to realize how to break that final remnant of his childhood conditioning, and when he had he'd kept back from moving. He'd though he'd be able to strike at Flick easier when he hadn't known it could come. He'd been wrong. The thunderstorm raged around the twain as they fought, hands and arms a blur as they each sought to destroy the other. This time Rah broke off.

"WHY!" He shouted, voice full of rage, sorrow, and unearthly joy. Not the joy of having a friend near, or a lover, but the joy of a hunting dog that had its prey in sight at last. His eyes glowed with his rage, and so did his skin. A dim scarlet light emanated from his eyes, and a much lighter red radiated from his skin. Anyone looking at his skin alone would have to look twice in anything but utter darkness to realize it was glowing. This thunderstorm made even such blackness seem bright.

It was shaping up to be one of Yevon's unique attractions, a super-hurricane. They spawned about once every three years, unpredictably, and tended to cover half the globe with ice-cold rain and winds rivaling even the strongest of old Terran hurricanes. When one struck, most smart people went indoors, as planetary law required extra strong construction. Such construction would not, however, shield these two from the inner storms they still needed to vent.

Flick replied, in a voice as cold as steel, and yet triumphant, "I had to know. I had to know if you'd broken all of the programming. If you had I could tell you the truth of the black ops programs that created you out of the three-year-old child na-" Flick broke off into a gurgle, as suddenly a crimson blade broke through his chest. Flick fell to his knees, raising his hand beseechingly to Rah, and the blade came out and around, slicing off his head. Rah's eyes glowed again, and he could dimly make out two forms in the dark. What little had been left of his sanity snapped. One held the blade that had silenced Flick before he could tell Rah who he was. Rah pointed at him.

"You are dead." He pronounced in an emotionless voice. He pointed at the other one. "You are also dead, but quickly." He walked forward at a slow, deliberate pace. Tears ran down his face, hidden by the storm. The two figures charged him.

A few hours later, he stood up. He'd accidentally pushed too far, too fast, and the boy had died. He was one of Juni's gang though. Rah felt something pulse, and his madness receded. He'd done a horrible thing-he decided that he would choose a quick death for the rest of the gang, if the decision was forced onto him. He disposed of the bodies-all three of them-in unmarked graves deep in the wood, and said a prayer for Flick's salvation and the others damnation. He then returned to his cabin, where a mob had formed. No evidence was left, but they soon made it clear what they wanted. Simon Samuel Mason Kirk was their spokesperson. "We can't kill you, you've cleaned up the evidence too well for that. But you can't be human. I stole the designs from fleet myself. Fleet uses it only for high-security detention of extremely dangerous races, and tried to make it escape proof. I built it exactly as they designed it-you couldn't have escaped, and yet you did. You are NOT human. You're a freak. GET OUT! GET OUT FREAK!" Simon's tone had been totally calm and factual at the beginning but it had broken up at the end of the statement. He tried to bring it back under control, and his father spoke up for him.

"And don't come back you FREAK!" A phrase that would resound in Rah's head for a long time.

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