EarthRise by William C. Dietz Read Free Book Online Page A

inside of each wrist, and the Zin pulled elastic bands down to cover them.
    All of it was the way Hak-Bin had visualized it, had arranged it, except for the offensive slogan. The voice belonged to a Fon, he knew that, partly because of the words themselves and partly because of the manner in which they had been said. Like most inferior beings, this one spoke the dialect typical of his caste. Hak-Bin eyed the surrounding thicket of crosses. “Which one?”
    A Kan pointed at Mal-Dak, and the Sauron turned to look. The first thing he noticed was that this particular creature was nothing special to look at. A rather pathetic specimen he couldn’t remember seeing before, though truth be told, the Zin had a hard time telling functionaries apart. He gestured with a pincer. “T-gun.”
    Reluctantly, because no warrior worth his chi parts with his weapon willingly, the nearest Kan surrendered his sidearm.
    Hak-Bin accepted the weapon, made his way over to where Mal-Dak hung, and allowed the t-gun to dangle at his side. “You and your entire line are about to die.”
    Unlike a growing number of his caste, some of whom stood not twenty paces away, Mal-Dak knew nothing about the coming change. All he wanted to do was strike back, and words were the only weapon he had. He said the first thing that came to his mind. “All of us are going to die . . . and you sooner than some.”
    The words, which not only seemed to imply a knowledge of the great change, but the rather worrisome symptoms that plagued Hak-Bin of late, were far more effective than the Fon could have possibly imagined. The Zin felt sudden uncontrolled rage.
    Mal-Dak saw the t-gun come up, knew what it meant, and was glad. Others might hang for days, might have their eyes pecked out, but he would escape. He would . . .
    Hak-Bin squeezed the weapon’s handle, the weapon barked, and the dart punched a hole through the Fon’s thorax, hit the wood beyond, and blew the two-by-four in half. Like a tree falling in the forest, the cross toppled, and landed with a thump.
    Much to Franklin’s amusement the humans produced a scattering of applause, and the Sauron leader, who knew what the sound meant, felt a resurgence of anger. Had the entire universe gone insane? Would everyone, Sauron and human alike, be allowed to defy his authority?
    Enraged by the manner in which his own object lesson had been turned against him, Hak-Bin raised the t-gun, shot the blue-eyed man in the head, and proceeded down the line of crosses, killing humans until his weapon ran out of projectiles.
    Hak-Bin’s anger had run its course by then, and the rational part of his mind was back in control. It questioned the true cause of his runaway emotions while simultaneously looking for some way to cover up.
    Much to its owner’s horror Hak-Bin tossed the t-gun aside, allowed it to plop into a mud puddle, and shuffled toward the canopy-covered dais. His retinue, which included Ji-Hoon and the rest of her team, followed. Dro Rul, along with the rest of his peers, had arrived by then, and stood off to one side as the Sauron took his place before the enormous crowd.
    It was no coincidence that a flight of seven Sauron fighters chose that particular moment to roar over the slaves. People ducked and eyed the sky in fear.
    Hak-Bin took note of the fact that the humans appeared to be cowed—and made the decision to dispense with his opening remarks. He took his place behind the dais and eyed his audience. “You continue to live for one purpose, and one purpose only, and that is to work. Not just any work, such as you did prior to our arrival, but meaningful work. Look at the temple behind me, take pride in what you have accomplished, and continue to live.”
    Hak-Bin paused at that point, allowing time for the words to sink in. “Or, and the choice is yours, you can die. For death is the fate assigned to all miscreants regardless of who they may be. This reality applies to humans, Ra ‘Na, and Saurons as well.