Chapter 6: Execution
READERS' CHOICE FROM CH. 5: I) [Nervous or excited, a morbid curiosity with the sugran bandit's fate glues Torbus to the wall of the pharmacy. He can't help but watch the execution.]
The crowd raised their arms and cheered as the tall woman flung the door to the cage open. The clap of the plexiglass echoed off the buildings surrounding the field. The slumping figure inside reared up with a wide universal expression of surprise, his mouth gaping like a rig worker whose vacsuit was out of O2. Before he could react, the woman jammed a taser into his face. He contorted on the ground and the woman grabbed his ankles. She was slim but seemed barely slowed dragging the writhing sugran towards four men standing in the center of the field. She threw his legs down into the mud with a thick smack.
"By mandate of the President of Delos, I preserve the peace of Valpon and the border. And that is exactly what I intend to do here today. I am the law. Bear witness to the consequences of raiding, theft, and murder. Let this be an example to anyone, sugran or human..." Two long yellow fingers slid under Torbus's arm and squeezed.
"That'll be you soon." Torbus spun towards the voice. His eyes were level with an ashen elbow he trailed up to a wide grin of black teeth and two condescending grey eyes. "The commander's pissed. Says there's no way you weren't compromised. Two of Lommar's best, Dezma and Kain, both die fighting, but here you are enjoying the death of another Gurratan in whatever sick human murder ritual this is." The yellow sugran released his grip and gestured towards the field.
"I... they, they're tracking my smarfo. You shouldn't approach me in the open like this." Torbus stammered trying to reply in sugranese. Or at least, he tried to convince himself it was the language tripping him up.
"Your own people break you? This is SOP, Belgran. Besides, Delos' ground network won't be able to triangulate shit with this going on," the yellow sugran said, nodding at the crowd. Torbus licked his dry lips and forced himself to take a draw on his cigarette. He exhaled slowly, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Behind him, the woman's voice boomed like a drum.
"I can't go in yet. Delos, Colonel Jivo... He ID'd me. He knows where my mother is. I collect for them, I earn trust. Lommar needs someone like me who can feed inside intel." The deep red sunlight backlit the towering unnamed soldier in front of him. His traditional Gurratan robes hung from him like black sheets on a tree, their colors dimmed in the low light.
"The Commander will decide that," the soldier said, punctuating each word. "You're coming with me. Whatever deal you made with Delos to get out alive doesn't change our situation." His tone was calm like he was used to convincing people to do things they didn't want to do. And he called it "our situation," trying to build rapport.
A high-pitch wail pierced the air. Torbus turned. The woman, sherriff, whatever she was, had straightened the prisoner's broken leg and was directing the four men to tie his limbs up with ropes hitched to tractors at the corners of the field. Torbus tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry and his tongue caught on the roof of his mouth. "I've proven my usefulness and my loyalty to Gurrat and Commander Lommar before. Give me two days. I'm not going in with you now. Two days. I fuck it up? You track me down again and take me in. You still win."
The soldier stood straight and folded his arms behind him as he considered Torbus. The evening wind shifted and tickled the sweat on the back of Torbus' neck. The mud had the same slightly chalky smell all Chellokan soil seemed to have, but the zeko shit was as sour as ever. Four extended beeps sounded from the tractors as the drivers started the motors. The crowd lined up parallel to the ropes and started chanting, all of Valpon condensed into a macabre "X." The wide, treaded tires began to roll and the lines went taught, lifting the sugran off the ground. He bounced and smacked the mud as the tractors tugged and slipped opposite each other. The broken leg gave first, snapping away and tripping some of the crowd. The sugran tried to scream, but all that came out was a wet gargle.
The long heavy fingers wrapped over Torbus' shoulder and pressed firmly into his chest. "I have orders to bring you in, Belgran. It doesn't matter to me dead or alive."
Torbus understood the stakes of his conversation but couldn't pull himself away from the spectacle. The tractor motors whined. The crowd cheered and pounded on the ropes in unison. Something snapped twice. Then, there was a strange sound like cooked cabbage hitting the kitchen floor, and the tractors ramped over the lip of the field.
In the small of his back, Torbus felt something hard press into his spine...
CHOOSE (Leave a comment below or message me somewhere to vote.) [7/4/2023]
K) [Torbus feels everything closing in. "Fuck it," he thinks, as he lowers his center of mass and prepares to spin and draw on the soldier behind him.]
L) [Torbus leans back into the iron grip on his shoulder and releases the tension in his muscles. "Maybe Lommar will listen."]
READER'S CHOICE as of [7/17/2023] = K
