ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine August 2014 | Page 32

SFP Indie Issue 3
Mira caught on to my distraction and leapt towards
me with an ornate spear that had been resting against the
bedroom wall. The glistening ivory of the shaft was
engraved with some kind of writing that may have been
traceable to her family’s ancestry before colonizing Mars.
Or it could have been decorative, either way it would
impale me to a certain death. Not one that I was
particularly interested in experiencing.
I brought my left hand down as the spear
approached. Her hesitation at the last minute had given me
just enough time to grip it tightly with one hand and to
shove my fist into her shoulder knocking her to the floor.
The effort took a bit out of me and I could see blood
dripping from my body to the floor at a steady rate now.
"You son of a bitch, do you understand who I am?
Who my family is? You will be killed for what you have
done to me!" she screamed before choking on a sob that
was caught in her throat. Her makeup was running down
her face and it reminded me of one of the masks I had
seen at the Solstice Festival earlier in the evening, as the
red and white lights danced against the plastic exterior of
the woman's face in the square. Mira ran her sleeve across
her face and she sat on her knees and waited for the blast
from my gauntlet that would end her life.
I looked up at Thom to see that he had killed Linnis
with the silent killer that rested on his own arm. Mira did
not follow my gaze. She knew the silence that filled the
room answered the question that poured from her heart.
What about my brother? She would feel the question
more than ask it. I knew because I had felt the same when
my mother had passed.
I watched above as her head fell into her hands and
muffled the anguish of her loss. She would not feel it
much longer as I lifted my arm and pointed the beam in
her direction. I was only following orders in the same
detached way I had been trained to do, but I felt
something more this time. You could call it a connection,
or a twinge of sympathy that had no business clouding my
mind. The programming kicked in as my emotions entered
the equation, rational thought was smothered by my
training and I braced myself for that simple, controllable
act, and fired.
It was over, another assignment that ripped the
tethered soul that rested somewhere deep inside the
monster that I had become. The monster I should not

recognize as a monster because of the programming, but
yet it still reared its ugly head. I lowered my arm and
turned away from Thom who was watching me, learning
from me, as was his lot in this relationship. I could not
bear to allow him to see me struggle with this
assassination, wounded or otherwise.
It was not the death, but the life that it resembled that
tore at my mind. Mira bore such a close resemblance to my
sister Kara. I could not help the fact that my association
with the two entered my mind as the laser blasted through
my targets head. It was done, there was no going back.
Even if I could take it back, another policeman would be
assigned to carry out the execution.
I swallowed bile and the burn in my throat brought
me back to reality. I inhaled deeply before walking away,
holding my side and grimacing in pain.
"Are you all right?" Thom asked with concern
coloring his face.
"I'm fine," I lied. The only way I was going to get
through this was to remove the emotional attachment that
I carried with me always. I knew what needed to be done. I
had to distance myself from my only surviving relative. I
had to destroy my family before the monster inside of me
destroyed it for me. "Can you file the report, Thom?" I
asked in an effort to take some time to myself.
"Of course, Serus," he said behind me.
"Good. I've got something I need to take care of," I
said as I left the Taggert residence and reached for my
communicator. Kara's number was the fourth one from
the top, and I slid my finger over her name and waited for
the sound of her voice to greet me on the other end. I had
known for some time that this day was inevitable. It was
for her own good, and mine. The part that hurt most was
that I knew it would be for the last time. I had to let go of
the past in order to survive the future. I just hoped that
she could understand that and not hate me for it later. This
genuinely was an act of love, even if it did not feel like it.
"Hello," she said into her communicator. I