Earth's Last Angel (7 page)

An hour, nearly two, passes before Web shows up.

‘Can I release our little friends?' he asks with the excitement of a small child releasing his first goldfish into its pond.

‘Yes! Of course you can my lord, that privilege is for you alone.'

Web approaches a small tank which holds tiny fish resembling mosquito lava.

‘How many do you think?' he asks.

‘How long do you want it to take?

‘A week or so, they are scheduled for their performance in six weeks.'

‘Excellent! Then four each should take about…two weeks.' she replies.

‘Then four it is!' He fishes out four for Bill's tank and drops them through the little trap door on top of the tank. Wriggling slowly, they sink through the water until they touch Bill's exposed skin, then all hell breaks loose. They go totally berserk, ripping into his flesh like great white sharks in miniature. Tearing open the skin and exposing the nerve ends is what they are genetically engineered to do. Bill's eyes bug out at the intense pain.

The area of skin they strip in 10 minutes is less than the size of a pea. After gorging themselves for over three hours they will resemble golf balls, and will be swapped out for four fresh mini mouths.

Now it's Sheona's turn.

This will be a long two weeks.

The short term effect of the paralysis drug wears off after about 20 minutes, unlike the pain accelerator which shuts off the endorphin supply permanently. After watching the pair in the tanks thrashing about in their bonds and suffering for a couple of hours, Web grows bored and makes his excuses to leave.

‘I'll keep you informed of their progress, my lord,' smiling up at her evil master.

‘Thank you,' replies a now tired Web. Today has been huge.

The two weeks pass quickly for Web as his palace duties keep him busy. This is not the case for the two prisoners, now finished the prep stage, the last two weeks have felt like two eternities. Web walks in rubbing his hands together as the water is finished being drained from the tanks.

‘Let the games begin!' exclaims an excited Web.

He loves this part of the process. It does not matter what or where the prisoners are touched it will cause searing blinding pain. As the water finally drains away, the prisoners look nothing like they did when they entered the tanks. Their shredded flesh and exposed nerve endings are already starting to weep and fester. Their screams fill the hallway as they are dragged away to begin their torture.

Web strides ahead of the prisoners to wait for them in his adjustment chamber, implements of torture preselected for the job. During the course of the next four weeks of horrendous torture they each have to be resuscitated numerous times. The tortures themselves are too brutal to disclose. Neither of them betrays the Croc.

Two weeks after the arrest of Lord William and Lady Sheona, preparations are finalized for immediate deployment of the ‘Hammer of God' device on the Great Southern Land.

‘These sinners harbored the heretics for many years, now let them feel the vengeance of the Almighty Azeebar!' screams The Word, as he slams his fist on the activation button.

Thousands of kilometers away, a lone small flight drone carrying the ‘Hammer of God' crosses the center of the huge inland sea that was once in the interior deserts of the Great Southern Land. The Hammer device is small, the shape of a dinner plate, only 3cm thick and weighing less than 4 kg. This is a lethal surgical strike weapon way more effective than the old style nukes. As the drone hovers for a short time transmitting its position, a small green light flicks on in the Hammer's outer case. The switch is set for a lethal blast radius of 2500 kilometers. In a blinding flash the drone and Hammer are vaporized in the blast, the pulse wave traveling at the speed of light.

In an instant the entire Mazuban population of the Great Southern Land falls to the ground stone dead.

Close by the fallen Mazuban's, life goes on. Bees collect nectar from delicate blossoms.

Butterflies ride the breeze looking for a place to settle. Confused dogs nuzzle and whine at their now still, silent masters, trying to rouse them.

Not since the last world war has this lethal surgical strike weapon been deployed. Sixty three million souls are extinguished in an instant. Once noisy, vibrant towns, and cities are silent, pristine buildings stand undisturbed.

Now only four stolen Hammers remain locked away in the secret vault of The Word, the Hammer's creator made only six. He never drew up any blue prints, the design died with him. As a failsafe mechanism, only the blood of the Croc can unlock and arm the Hammer. Any attempt to open the case or probe within it to reverse engineer the Hammer will result in instant detonation, the default blast radius envelops the entire planet, wiping out all unprotected Mazuban life.

‘The awakening of the dead Crocs and their families starts in nine days,' states the Trade Ambassador. He is becoming a little agitated.

‘Have Lord William and Lady Sheona been contacted yet?' he asks Nolack-2.

‘I sent the invitation to Lord William's home communications unit precisely 3 weeks, 1 day, 12 hours, 3 minutes, and 17 seconds ago. I have since initiated contact precisely every 30 minutes for the last 27 hours. My last probe to the Great Southern Land failed to find any Mazuban life, a most disturbing anomaly. Either my programming is compromised or Mazubans have suddenly left the Great Southern Land. There is not one Mazuban left.'

‘Poppycock! Prepare a shuttle immediately, I'll go and check this out myself!' snorts a now annoyed Trade Ambassador, storming off to his apartment in the north end of the upper level of Sky Jewel to prepare a small travel bag.

The buzz of excitement is contagious on Star Jewel, the first asteroid city. She is now home to more than two million people.

A small elite research and development team have had access to the staronium isotope and blue prints for the first Croc's original Reanimation Ark and enhancement chamber to develop this new technology to harness staronium's amazing power.

Starting with an interface with the second super bio computer Nolack-2, the team built a tank not unlike a flotation tank, for Mazuban enhancement. In simple terms, Nolack-2 scans a naked body to create a data base line, then projects a hologram image of a person standing next to themselves. The person then instructs Nolack-2 to take a little away here (flabby belly?) or add a little there (bigger arms for the boys?) There are, of course, limits, otherwise subjects would not be the same person, at least not physically.

To perform these tasks, Nolack-2 takes the ‘new person data and uses a molecular converter to disassemble the ‘old' person, converting carbon based molecules into an energy lifeform, then using staronium's power to use non organic energy (electricity), restores the organic carbon based matter back to its prime which is 25 years of age. In short rebuilding the person free of any disease or disability to their own specifications, all while the subjects lays floating comfortably in the tank.

But there's more. With further development Mazubans are now able to awaken loved ones from the dead! It's a little more technical, and will be demonstrated soon.

Nolack-2 powers up shuttle TS 82063 for the Trade Ambassador.

‘I leave immediately Nolack-2, I'll contact the Croc as soon as I've got some answers,' remarks the Trade Ambassador as he straps himself in for take-off.

After a short 12 hour flight back to Thera, he arrives at Bill's home. The Crocs have discreetly visited Bill since his return to Thera, he is, after all, their major trade partner. The Trade Ambassador frowns as he steps out of the shuttle, only the dogs greet him.

‘Bucket head you mangy old mutt, where is your master?' the Trade Ambassador smiles, squatting down to pat the old dog happily wagging its tail in welcome.

The absence of Mazubans is very unnerving, ‘Where the blue blazes is everyone?' the Trade Ambassador walks over to the house the silence is deafening he has never felt this alone, ever. With an increasing feeling of foreboding, he searches the entire property.

Finally, he finds a small camp in a forest clearing with vehicles parked nearby. His hopes rise. ‘They are just out on a camping trip, they must be down by the river,' he thinks as he climbs down the embankment. The smell hits him first, nearly choking him. It's the one smell you never want to experience, the smell of decaying Mazuban flesh.

They are all of them dead, with not a mark on them. It's like they all had a massive heart attack or suffocated, all of them at once. It's totally bizarre.

Bill and Sheona are not among the dead, so where are they? Maybe they were washed away by the river?

A very sick Trade Ambassador makes his way back to the house to find some clue of Bill and Sheona's whereabouts. Finally, after leafing through some paperwork on Bill's desk, the Trade Ambassador finds Bill's appointment to become the nation's Ambassador with an invitation to the City of Light.

The Trade Ambassador boards his shuttle and heads for the nation's capital, Darwin. As the shuttle descends for landing, the Trade Ambassador looks out on a scene of total devastation. Buildings stand tall and untouched, animals wander free, trees and flowers sway in the gentle breeze. The devastation is total annihilation reserved for Mazubans only, bodies litter the streets. This is the work of only one possibility. the Hammer. Then the realization hits the Trade Ambassador like a slap in the face ‘The crazy little shriveled up psycho! Why? How? Only the Croc can activate the Hammer! Even then, the remaining devices were lost, disappearing under the flow of lava during the eruption!' Leaving this land of the dead, he heads his shuttle for the City of Light searching for answers.

Now he has to find Bill and Sheona to let them know what's happened. Arriving at the City of Light the Trade Ambassador lands his shuttle as directed by flight control on Palace landing pad 006. He is met by Web and two burly looking guards.

‘Trade Ambassador, Welcome to the City of Light,' extending a hand in mock welcome.

‘Never mind that crap! Why did that psycho The Word wipe out the Great Southern Land, and where the blazes are Lord William and Lady Sheona?' demands a very angry Trade Ambassador, his voice rising in pitch and volume.

‘Seize him!' commands Web to the two guards, who promptly grab the Trade Ambassador.

‘You are now under arrest and will not only meet the prisoners, you will join them and share their fate!' With that the Trade Ambassador is marched off to join Bill and Sheona.

Later, after being stripped of his clothes and belongings and dressed in nothing but the prison garment, he is thrown into Bill's cell.

‘Bill, is that you?' asks the Trade Ambassador not able to comprehend that the poor wretch in the cell is actually Bill. ‘What the devil have they done to you? Where is Sheona?'

‘Sheona is here, too, in that cell opposite. We've had our skin eaten off by tiny monster fish to expose the nerve ends, and then Web tortured us literally to death then revived us. We can't touch anything without it sending blinding stabs of pain through us. All we have left is to die to stop this suffering. At least the kids don't know what we're going through, hopefully they are far enough away to escape any problems from this mob,' rasps Bill, struggling to breath.

The Trade Ambassador goes to put his hand on Bill's shoulder and stops. Bill's skin, or what's left of it, is now festering and weeping, his frills are torn and ragged. Just looking at it must hurt him! Great sadness engulfs the Trade Ambassador, how is he ever going to tell Bill what has happened to his family, and for that matter his entire country?

‘And she's pregnant…so why are you here?' asks Bill, snapping the Trade Ambassador out of his mood.

‘To bring you and Sheona back to Sky Jewel for… the awakening!'

‘What do you mean, awakening?'

‘Bill you mustn't have heard yet, our research and development team have done it! Using staronium in the reanimation ark Nolack-2 can now bring the dead back to life! The Crocs and their kin are soon to be the first to be awakened!

‘Good god! When does this happen?'

‘Six days from now.'

‘My god they've actually done it!' Bill flashes a painful grin, suddenly there is a spark of hope in his eyes, even if it means that they have to die first, they can then be reanimated again at a later time.

This conversation is listened in on by none other than The Word himself.

‘We must stop this abomination from ever happening! Who is this Necromancer, Nolack-2? She must be stopped! Web, assemble the entire old nuclear arsenal all that we can lay our hands and load up the Ambassador's shuttle with them. I want the asteroid heretics reduced to dust!' spits The Word.

‘What do you mean by Necromancer, my master? ‘Web enquires timidly.

‘Necromancers are vile Devil worshipers who claim to be able to raise the dead!' snaps The Word. ‘They're risen then walk the planet as soulless-mindless monsters!'

‘Who does she think she is? God Almighty himself?' he roars the veins in his temples and frills pulsating wildly.

‘As you wish my master, she must be stopped!' replies a submissive Web, bowing low to his master. ‘It will however take several days to collect and ready the nukes I will assign my best men to the task.'

‘You are a loyal servant of God, you speak wisely. Let's be thorough and set this up carefully. This awakening is scheduled to start six days from now, so we strike on the day when they are too busy to notice one small shuttle returning. Set the timer for 30 seconds to initiate after docking. Oh, and I think having the Ambassador aboard the shuttle might be a nice touch for the occasion.' A satanic smile crosses his evil face.

The Trade Ambassador is soon subject to the same torture as Bill and Sheona. As the day of execution nears, the Trade Ambassador experiences a new internal torture, he hasn't told Bill what has happened to his family and the Great Southern Land. He doesn't have the heart to tell him.