Radio Free Lazarus

Preacher, a pirate vidcast host. Zoe Caid, the so-called Hero of the People. SIN-116, an assassination droid on a mission. When these three lives collide, Lazarus will be rocked to its very core.

It was a cool, frosty morning in Tarmis City. The sky was cloudless and blue. People dressed in sharp business suits passed shops and vendors on their way to the office. No one even spared a glance at the old office building, wedged between its larger brethren.

 

The wind was sharp this high up. There were no windows to block it out; they had been destroyed in an explosion. Now there were only twisted girders and splintered furniture, a silent testament to the horror inflicted on the building only a few years ago.

 

Preacher wished he had brought warmer clothes. His usual screen-wear"a suit of white"was hardly enough to keep out the frigid morning air.

 

"I'm getting too old for this." He muttered under his breath. He set up the camera in its usual place, checked himself in a pocket mirror, then tapped the LIVE FEED button on the device.

 

The light went from red to green. He was on.

 

"My brothers and sisters, and to all the people of Lazarus, good morning! Welcome back once again to Radio Free Lazarus, the only TV station who will give you the story straight, when the government and the media only want to smother you in their carefully crafted lies.

 

"Today I'm talking about the xeno threat. That's right, those things from space that our government claims to be fighting every step of the way. Yes, I know everyone is talking about the xenotypes"the so-called 'Grays'"but how many are actually doing anything about it? The TDF and the Sentinels will tell you that they have everything under control, but how come they're demanding more and more volunteers to fight?

 

"In fact, it's gotten so bad, that Lazarus and Earth are actually considering passing a draft! That's right, everyone between eighteen and twenty-five could suddenly be wearing fatigues and being used as cannon fodder. Travel to new worlds! Meet interesting people! Get gutted by creatures from a different system! All without your consent.

 

"Also, taxes here on Lazarus are going to go up again. That's right, as if taking your brothers, sisters, children, moms and dads wasn't enough, they're holding out their hands asking for more 'donations' for their war effort. I can understand needing to protect the civilian population, but when was the last time the TDF actually used that money for the war effort. Did you see that TDF parade last week? For 'moral' purposes. Two million credits, gone. Tax money well spent, eh?

 

"For years Lazarus has been a beacon of hope for the people of Sol. We're the first truly successful colony established beyond our home system, and yet every year the Terran government insists on higher taxes, and giving more and more of our precious resources to feed the overcrowded populations of Earth. A beautiful world that our ancestors built will be squeezed dry if we continue on our current course. We must tell the central government that enough is enough!

 

“But this old man has rambled on long enough, Lazarus. You think about what we've talked about today, and go out there and make a change.

 

"Preacher, signing off."

***

General Harris flipped off the holoscreen and turned back around to face the android sitting across from him.

 

“Do you understand the situation now?”

 

SIN-116 grunted, not looking up from his reading. The stacks of paper before him were other transcripts from previous transmissions from Radio Free Lazarus. Harris fought down a flash of annoyance and cleared his throat.

 

SIN slowly set down with the papers in his hand, and gave Harris a long, even look. The general wished he could read his fellow synthetic’s expression, instead of having to stare at a metal mask.

 

“He speaks a lot of the truth,” SIN finally replied.

 

“Which is exactly why we can’t let him carry on,” Harris tapped the desk for emphasis, “That draft bill was being carefully kept out of public eye while it was being debated. The political fallout from this information could be devastating.”

 

SIN tilted his head to one side and said, “He has quite the information network, then. Do we have anything on him?”

 

The general slid a manila envelope across the desk, “This is all the relevant data we have on him. It’s not much, as he’s managed to be a shadow player for a while now. He was part of the OASR for a long time.”

 

SIN felt the hot sensation of anger roll through his emotional matrix. He lingered on its bitter taste for a moment, before snuffing the emotion out.

 

“Organics Against Synthetic Rule,” SIN muttered, “They must be backing him up.”

 

Harris nodded. “We believe this is where he gets most of his funding, despite the fact that he’s not actually part of the organization anymore. This operation, it’s as much about striking a blow against OASR as it is about damage control.”

 

“I understand, General.” SIN rose to his feet, “I won’t let you down.”

 

The general mirrored the action, “I know. We didn’t call you in for your public relation skills.” Harris gave the android a thin smile.

 

SIN saluted, and left.

 

Harris sat back down, thinking that chaps from the System Intelligence Network were a spooky lot. He almost felt sorry for Preacher.

 

Almost.

***

Zoe had decided this was the strangest mission she had ever taken part in. After being ran through a gauntlet of what must have been a good four hundred questions by her potential employer, the lady"some rat-faced broad with eyeglasses and a terrible haircut"had proclaimed Zoe fit to be hired. After that, she was whisked away to Tarmis City and dropped off in the downtown district, with nothing but an address and a name. What kind of name was Preacher anyways? Zoe figured it was some kind of alias.

 

Now wondering if this was some kind of setup, Zoe made her way to the address given to her. When she found the building, she had to check the location.

 

Yeah, definitely going to get mugged, Zoe thought sourly, eyeing the blown out office building. Still, the contract offered a sizable sum, and for someone who had spent the last month and a half eating noodles out of a carton, it was too good to pass up. Once she was out of sight from the street, she drew her snub-nosed pistol from her shoulder holster and carefully made her way through the wreckage.

 

"That's not really necessary," a voice said from behind her.

 

Zoe left out a startled yelp and brought her gun to bear on the figure. Standing before her was an older man, with dark brown skin, darker hair (with the onset of gray at his temples), and slate gray eyes. He smiled and held up his hands.

 

"See? No weapons here. Relax."

 

To her credit, Zoe lowered her weapon, but didn't tuck it away. Preacher was pleased. He didn't know what to make of her at first. She was a short, young woman with long red hair tucked under a slashball cap, the bill plunging her pleasantly green eyes into light shadows. She seemed familiar to Preacher, but he couldn't place a name with the face. Despite her slight appearance, she moved and acted like a pro.

 

"So, who are you?" She asked, eyeing him over. His white suit seemed to be a little too formal for a guy staying in a rundown place like this.

 

"Preacher, at your service." He introduced himself with a bow.

 

"Nice to know," Zoe motioned around her, "So what's with the scenery? Do you live here? Please don't tell me you live here."

 

Preacher chuckled and said, "No, but I've had to shack up here for periods of time before. I have a small flat upstairs that's a bit more livable." He waved her on as he made his way up the stairs. "Come on with you."

 

Zoe was hired to act as a bodyguard for Preacher, but she'd be damned if she was going to stay in some burnt up office building for a week.

 

"So um, are we staying here for the duration of the contract?" she inquired suspiciously.

 

"Oh, of course not!" Preacher laughed, "I'm having some rooms checked out later this evening in a hotel down the road. This is more like my workspace. At least for the moment."

 

"Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living, Mister uh... Preacher."

 

He grinned, "I run a pirate video network."

 

Zoe started, "Seriously? You're going to kill me or something, since I know where your hideout is, right?"

 

Preacher snorted, "I'm not a murderer, ma'am. I'll simply pack up and move once our contract is up."

 

An embarrassed expression touched Zoe’s face. Her last question had just sort of slipped out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just this mission is pretty weird. My name is Zoe Caid, by the way. I probably should have told you that after I pointed the gun at you.”

 

It was Preacher’s turn to be surprised. “The Zoe Caid? Sentinel of the People?” He whistled, “Your reputation precedes you.”

 

Zoe shrugged, “I uh… wouldn’t get too excited over it. It was a fluke, and the numbers are off. Always off.”

 

Preacher laughed, “They usually are. Can you do me one favor, though?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You tell me the story in your own words. I want to hear the truth.”

***

SIN's artificial olfactory was assaulted by the smell of baking bread, cinnamon, and the distinct underlying odor of human sweat. The morning rush was beginning to wind down, with only the last trickle of business people and college students coming and going. Still, the crew was busy, pushing in cold, doughy lumps and pulling out freshly baked bagels, donuts, and small loaves of bread.

 

SIN wandered up to the counter when it was his turn. The cashier"a pretty blond girl with her hair done up in pigtails"looked at him expectantly. The name badge on her large chest named her “Penny”.

 

“I’m looking for someone,” began SIN, before the girl could start up a tiresome greeting ritual.

 

“Uh...” “Penny” frowned in response.

 

“An employee of yours. Daniel Grimm.” SIN explained, silently cursing the dim-witted human.

 

The girl’s eyes lit up, “Oh! He’s out back, taking out the trash. Lemme go get-“

 

SIN held up a hand, “Not necessary. Thank you.”

 

“Oh,” the blond hesitated before asking: “Well, can I get anything else for you?”

 

SIN thought about it, “A bagel, please.”

 

He enjoyed the smell.

***

As it turned out, Daniel Grimm was not taking out the trash. In fact, he wasn't doing much of anything. SIN found him leaning against the building, cigarette between his lips as he stared off into space. Daniel gave a start as he watched the matt black synthetic approach, and stamped out his cigarette.

 

"Uh... hey. You're not suppose to be back here, you know."

 

SIN said nothing. Instead, he dropped a small pyramid-shaped device at Daniel's feet. The boy didn't know it, but SIN had just deployed a sonic-dampener. Anything occurring within its active radius would be unheard from outside.

 

With the emitter in place, SIN spoke, "Mister Daniel Grimm. A birdie told me that you know where a man named Preacher had taken up residence."

 

The "birdie" was in fact the TDF's mole within OASR. The informant didn't know where Preacher was himself, but he pointed him towards Daniel Grimm, one of the Preacher's close friends. A quick check through Grimm's file had sent SIN towards this bakery in downtown Tarmis.

 

Daniel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, "I don't know who you're talking about."

 

"His name is more commonly known as David Blitzer," said SIN.

 

Daniel's head jerked up in alarm. No one knew Preacher's real name, except for a few people like Daniel, close friends of the old man. “Who are you?” He asked.

 

“Inconsequential,” SIN growled, then took a step forward and shoved Daniel against the wall, keeping a hand firmly on his chest. Daniel grunted and struggled, “What you need to know,” SIN said softly, digging his nails into the man’s soft flesh, “is that I’m going to ruin your day if you do no cooperate.”

 

Daniel cried out, then he spit in the android’s face, “screw you, robot!”

 

Unfazed, SIN tilted his head to one side, “Have you ever heard of the Steel Dragoons?”

 

Daniel stared at him in silence.

 

“They were a group of synthetics who were dedicated to find out humans’ many weaknesses. They were disbanded after the Manchester Treaty was written; yet many of their techniques continue to be used today.

 

SIN grabbed Daniel’s wrist.

 

“For example: They say one of an organic’s greatest weaknesses is mere pressure points. Even the strongest warriors and the heartiest of men can be brought down if the right amount of pressure in the right place is applied.”

 

He pressed his thumb into Daniel’s wrist. The human screamed. SIN went on:

 

“It’s an art and a science, really. Too much pressure here will kill a man, too little pressure there will allow him to break free.”

 

A hollow, deep sound like a hammer striking an anvil escaped SIN’s vocals. Daniel realized with mounting horror that the android was chuckling.

 

“Lucky for you,” said SIN, “I’m something of an expert.”

Preacher served Zoe hot lemon tea from the kitchen node. Despite the wreckage around them, somehow the employee’s kitchen had survived the worst of the blast and resulting fire. Preacher had cleaned it up for the most part, replaced the light bulbs, fixed the refrigerator, even set up a small stove so he could cook. It had all the comforts of home.

 

Zoe chuckled.

 

“What is it?” Preacher asked, looking up from his tea.

 

“This.” Zoe motioned to the kitchen node, “I was thinking about how preserved this place looks, and it reminded me of a set to a holovid show. The idea struck me as funny.”

 

Preacher smiled, but said nothing.

 

“Well, I mean,” Zoe went on, “are you really going to abandon this place?”

 

Preacher shrugged, “There’s other places to set up shop, Miss Zoe, one’s with less holes in the wall, hopefully.” He made a pointed glance at the blown out walls and chuckled. Then his demeanor grew serious. “There are those who’d like to silence me, Miss Zoe. Running a pirated show may seem harmless, and even romantic to some, but honestly it’s a dirty job, and you’re forced to scramble from hiding place to hiding place to avoid the authorities. I get some funding, but rarely enough, and most of that goes to equipment. I am, on most days, forced to live as if it’s my last.”

 

A heavy silence fell over them.

 

Finally, Zoe said: “Why do you do it, then?”

 

“The truth,” said Preacher, as if that explained everything. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a sigh. Zoe shrugged to herself and relaxed, waiting for something to happen.

***

SIN could hear every creak, every crumble, every muffled word on the other side of the glass. He was on the twenty-fifth floor of the Allego Energy building, but on the wrong side of the walls. Wind tugged and whistled through his plates, and he carefully eased himself across the ledge. He had about a foot of space, and no more. Every step was calculated and sure, and SIN suppressed feelings of anxiety and fear. He was almost in position, anyways.

 

SIN glanced over his shoulders to make sure the massive window blinds were still in place, before easing his body against the cold glass. He went rigid as he locked muscles into place, save for his arms, which drew his compact Yoshiko-pattern sniper rifle from a concealed thigh compartment. He brought the scope to his eye, then locked his elbows as well.

 

The building across from him leapt into view, and he gazed over the broken, blackened landscape, using only the minutest movements.

 

His scope lingered on the relaxed form of Zoe, sitting cross-armed in a chair, her back against the wall. She was sitting faced in his direction, but distracted by something off to the side, out of his view.

 

He hadn’t known Preacher hired a bodyguard, which made things a bit more complicated, but SIN would adapt accordingly.

 

His scope jerked as he saw Preacher for a fraction of a second, but for SIN’s photographic memory, it was long enough. Now that he had seen the target, he would have to make a decision. His scope wavered back to the girl, and he contemplated taking her out. However, it would alert Preacher to his presence, and despite his superior training, there was no way he could get down in time to chase the old man down. There was simply too much risk of losing him.

 

SIN lowered his scope, now knowing his course of action. He would have to get in close and take both of them out. A tremble of delicious anticipation ran through him. He tasted it for a moment, before beginning his long climb down.

***

"What about you?"

 

Zoe started. Preacher had been quiet for so long now"going about taking care of his makeshift studio"that Zoe had drifted into a daydream.

 

"Excuse me?" She asked.

 

"You asked me why I do what I do," said Preacher, "so what about you? What inspires and makes the great Zoe Caid do what she does?"

 

Zoe shrugged "Credits, I guess? I dunno."

 

Preacher's smile faltered, "Seriously?"

 

"Seriously."

 

Preacher sighed, "It's ironic then, I suppose, to be a crier of the truth, to stand upon the highest mountains and the tallest buildings, preaching the word of truth to all who would listen, only to find oneself having to use the same organizations he preaches against. Does this make me a hypocrite?" he asked to no one in particular.

 

The sentinel said nothing, allowing the old man to muse out loud. Finally, after several long moments, seemingly satisfied with whatever answer he came up with, turned to Zoe and asked: "Did you really save that shuttle full of children?"

 

Zoe nodded, "Yeah, but more out of self-preservation. One of my teammates, Xing, his leg got shredded by a piece of the ship's engine. Cecil and Tam, the other two sentinels with us, went for help while I stayed with Xing. We didn't even realize there were any survivors aboard the ship until some little boy popped the seal and comes stumbling out, covered in blood." Her eyes grew distant, "He was missing an arm, and kept screaming for his mom. You can't exactly ignore that."

 

Preacher nodded and compared this to the news reports, carefully cataloguing everything the young sentinel said. The media claimed that everyone aboard the vessel had survived, but Zoe's account seemed to prove otherwise.

 

"Anyways, Xing and I exchanged a look right then. We knew b*****d xeno-raiders would be all over us in minutes. I propped Xing up against the hull of the ship, and hunkered down behind a piece of the transport"the wing, if you're wondering"and waited for the worst of it."

 

"Was it that bad?" Preacher asked.

 

Zoe shook his head, "No, it was pretty rough, but we were pretty close to a military-controlled zone, so the grays hadn't pushed too far in yet. And despite what they says otherwise, I never fought hand-to-hand, we had plenty of charges between us and a lot of space to create a kill zone."

 

"So what happened?"

 

"Nothing. We held them off for a couple of hours, with the grays taking pot shots at us from the bushes here and there, risking a failed charge occasionally. Nothing that they didn't prepare you for in Basic though, right? I mean, by the time the heavy fighting started"when they rolled in a couple of hunter-killers"Sentinel reinforcements showed up with what seemed like half the goddam TDF behind them.

 

"But anyways, this one wise guy"actually, I think it was Tam"so wise girl, whatever, she snaps a picture just as they approach. Tam always had a knack for photography, and this shot was... damn, it was perfect, which is why I need to still kick her a*s, come to think of it. Here." Zoe pulled a picture from her jacket pocket and handed it to Preacher.

 

He had seen the photo before, but when he was once moved by the epic image, now he saw it in a different light. The scene had Zoe standing with one foot on top of her makeshift barricade, firing out of the shot whatever monstrosity was approaching. Her hair was down and waving through the air like a tattered flag. She had a hint of dirt on her face, which gave the picture that kind of heroic realism. Behind her, as a final touch, a child huddled, with a wide-eyed expression of universal innocence.

 

Preacher contemplated the image for a while, then handed it back, "Do you always carry that with you?"

 

"You'd be surprised how many people asked to see it, to begin with. I just got tired of seeing their disappointment and started carrying it out of habit." Zoe gazed at the picture, "I wonder why they chose me as their little trophy hero. You know what happened to Xing?"

 

Preacher shook his head.

 

"He died," Zoe stated with a sigh, "Bled out. With all the confusion of the TDF and the Sentinels, along with the evacuation of the children, no one seemed to remember the other sentinel who had fought"injured and propped up against a damaged hull. He didn't complain either, family honor and all that nonsense, and so eventually he just closed his eyes and..." Zoe shrugged and stared at the picture again.

 

Preacher got up when he realized Zoe wasn't going to say anymore on the matter, and put on some more tea.

 

I wonder how long she's been keeping the real story inside, Preacher thought. For weeks after that incident you couldn't watch the newsvids without some mention of heroic Zoe Caid on them. Yet none of them told the story that he heard just now. He frowned to himself, listening to the teapot whistle. Is it fate or simple chance that the one sentinel sent to guard me might possibly understand the real meaning of truth better than myself?

SIN slowly made his way up the stairs in the burnt out office building, expertly stepping his way around broken metal debris and crunchy plaster.

 

He could hear voices coming from the next floor, and slipped up and out of the stairwell, shutting the door and positioning himself into a concealed place. He would lure out Preacher’s guard dog, eliminate her, and then take out his intended target.

 

Picking up a loose piece of plaster, he tossed it against the wall, hard enough to make a suspicious noise, but not enough to be too obvious.

 

With the coppery taste of battle running through his veins, he willed himself still and waited.

Zoe looked up from her reverie, “You hear that?”

 

Preacher shook his head, opening his mouth to speak until Zoe put a finger to her lips. She drew her pistol and slipped from the kitchen node.

 

It seemed all quiet, but Zoe couldn’t shake the feeling of another’s presence. The silence was heavy, and Zoe tightened her grip on her gun. She made her way over to the doorway for the stairwell, and was reaching for the knob when she smelled burnt ozone, and felt the slight heat behind her.

 

Instincts and Sentinel training took over as she rolled to one side, under the blade of a short energized sword, and came up turning and firing. SIN blocked the shots with his blade, and let his personal shield soak up those that got through. A blue aura flickered up around him as the slugs bounced off harmlessly.

 

Zoe drew a saber as SIN lunged in for another assault. She made a desperate one-handed block, grimacing at the stress on her wrist. She threw her pistol aside and supported the hilt with her other hand, then shoved SIN away and lashed out with her blade. SIN blocked the attack easily, since the human registered her motions before attacking. He slid the blade off hers, and came down with an overhead slash. Zoe blocked, then blocked again as SIN made another strike. She hopped back, then lunged forward to plunge her saber into the assassin’s gut, but he sidestepped and followed through with a down hand swing. Zoe used her forward momentum to roll out of harm’s way. She drew a second sword as she came to her feet, this one glowing with a beam of pure white light.

 

Artificial adrenal glands pumped SIN full of energy, and he would have grinned if he had a mouth. He came at the human again, and they traded a flurry of blows within seconds.

 

The thing that disturbed Zoe the most was not his speed nor swordplay, it was how quiet he was. SIN struck out, dodged, countered, moved, and danced about with only the slightest of noises, no grunts of exertion or a menacing snarl. Even when Zoe’s blade skimmed SIN’s ribs, he simply recoiled without a sound.

 

As Zoe moved in to press the advantage of the blow, SIN’s hand snapped out like a snake, clamping around her wrist. Time seemed to slow down, and their eyes locked. Then the moment was past, and SIN pressed down on Zoe’s wrist, snapping the bone and paralyzing the arm with a simple press of the thumb. She cried out and stumbled away, dropping her energy sword. SIN moved in and swung his blade against Zoe’s crumbling defense, pushing the girl further and further back.

 

They passed through a doorway, and Zoe vaguely registered Preacher’s studio room. SIN landed a light blow across Zoe’s shoulder, and she reeled back once more, realizing she had run out of fighting space. With an android looming ahead, and open air to her back, Zoe accepted that she had met her end.

 

A shot rang out then, and Zoe saw Preacher sitting in the corner, a heavy pistol in hand. The shots splashed off SIN’s shield, but Zoe used the monetary distraction and launched a desperate attack.

 

It didn’t work. SIN was expecting the human to act so rashly, and he simply ducked past Zoe’s saber, allowing the silvery blade to pass by harmlessly, and plunged his sword through Zoe’s heart. She gasped as the searing pain shot into her, and could only watch as SIN shoved her off his blade and out the window.

 

Her eyes met Preacher’s for a split-second, wide and terrified, and then she was gone.

 

SIN turned to face the aged man, his red eyes glowing like hot embers.

 

“Preacher. You know why I’m here.”

 

Preacher stared at the android, his face hard, “You’re here to snuff me out like a good little lapdog. Who sent you? TDF, probably.” Preacher sneered, “Am I right?”

 

SIN fumed at the insult, but gave his target only a passive nod, drawing a pistol and leveling it at the old man’s forehead, “By the order of the Terran Defense Force, and for the protection and well-being of all the people of Lazarus, I hear by sentence you, David Blitzer, to death for your crimes against sentient life.” The pistol’s power cell hummed to life.

 

Despite himself, David Blitzer"Preacher to most"spent his last few seconds of life emptying his bladder. Damn, and I really wanted to go with some dignity, he thought, and then his brains went out through the back of his skull.

 

SIN watched the body slump, checked for a pulse, and looked around, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. He chalked it up to nerves, until he spotted something in the corner: A camera, with its single glass eye staring at him.

 

The light atop it glowed green.

***

Over ten thousand people saw the live execution of Zoe Caid, Sentinel of the People, and David Blitzer, better known as Preacher. Of those ten thousand, a quarter of them had the foresight to record the broadcast, and by dinner time every network, datasite, and citizen was talking about the death of the two "heroes".

 

OASR agents, taking advantage of the swirling storm of anger that was brewing in the population, began to systematically instigate riots all over the planet, hoping the ensuing chaos would cause a collapse in the Lazarus's central government.

 

The cities became battlegrounds as joint TDF and Sentinel forces attempted to stave off the worst of the rioters, control the looting, and keep ahead of the general outbreak of crime. Even the most rural parts of the world found violence at their doorstep, as farmers were found viciously murdered and their livestock stolen.

 

The worst of the rioting came from the cities, where the citizens had long felt that they had been dispossessed by their synthetic-ruled government, and rose up in anger. In fact, the fighting became so overwhelming that the TDF leadership authorized the use of Code 1126"use of lethal force against civilians. However, instead of breaking up the mobs, it only enraged them.

 

For three days the riots raged. The fires, the looting, the constant sounds of screams and gunfire rang out through all of Lazarus. For three days, the planet seemed to live on the brink of collapse. The death toll rose into the thousands.

 

On the third day, the TDF released this statement:

 

“We are regretful at the loss of such a renowned hero, and an important spiritual leader. The TDF wishes for the citizens of Lazarus to know that Artificial Sentient SIN-116 was in fact a rogue element, and was no longer connected to the Terran Defense Force. It acted without our knowledge and without orders. Rest assured that SIN-116 is now in captivity and awaiting trial. People of Lazarus, know that justice will be served. Thank you.”

 

There were those who balked against this statement, stating that it was just a ploy to calm the “sheep” back into submission, but for the majority it had the desired effect. Lazarus had its sacrificial lamb. It would be appeased with blood. Like a wave crashing against rocky cliffs, the mobs lost their momentum and dispersed. Order was restored, and life on Lazarus regained a semblance of normality once more.

***

SIN-116 was tried and found guilty of two counts of murder in the first degree. He was sentenced to be decommissioned.

 

Three days later, the sentence was carried out. When the executioner asked if he had any last requests, SIN tilted his head to one side, and after a pause, said:

 

"Yes, I'll have a bagel."

***

The central government wanted to appease the population, so Zoe Caid and David "Preacher" Blitzer were buried on Mars with full honors and a grand funeral that cost over a million credits. It was funded by taxpayers' money. By the end of the year, both graves would be robbed a dozen times each, until the Martian leadership ordered the caskets to be cemented over.

 

Preacher's name became a kind of buzzword after his death, with thousands of sites on the Datanet appearing days after the conclusion of the riots, some blessing his name, others cursing it. Over a hundred activist groups took on some variable theme on his name: Children of Preacher, David Blitzer's Group, Flag of the Preacher, and so on. Within three months there were twenty pirated networks under the name "Radio Free Lazarus", spouting a multitude of different subjects, based on rumor and speculation and subjectively, rather than facts.

 

Documentaries were created for both Preacher and Zoe, both of them highly inaccurate but very successful. No one wanted the gritty, terrible reality of these two, only what they saw in their mind's eye.

 

Eventually, they would spawn a series of wildly successful movies (Preacher War, Preacher War II, and Preacher War: The Dark Android Chronicles) that pitted Preacher and Zoe (played by actors Robert Cunningham and Sara Ziegler) into "a roller coaster of laughs and thrills!" (Sol Now Holomag). All three movies were said to be based on true events.

 

This would be their legacy of lies.

Author's Note

This story is old, going on five years now, been through countless revisions, but it still maintains itself as one of my favorite. What do you think?