Chapter 14: The Chosen None
“What do you mean, you can't remember if you had a birthmark before the crash!?” Jupiter asked, nervously pacing back and forward around the cockpit.
“Well, it's on my back... I didn't exactly spent a lot of time examining my back when I was a kid. What's the big deal?”
“What's going on?” asked Liberty, starting to sound concerned.
“And do stop moving – you're all whooshy when you move,” said Justice.
“What's with him?” Jupiter asked Liberty.
“He's can't handle his alcohol straight.”
“You can drink it arty?”
“No. I mean, he's used to having it mixed with coke. We're Cokecasians, remember.”
“Can we get back to the topic of our imminent, painful death?” asked Abe.
“Ok, I just received a transmission from Mykur – asking me to hand over Google.”
Liberty automatically reached for her blaster, “You didn't...”
“No. Stupidly it would seem! He said Google's not the chosen one. Mykur just set things up to make it look like he was to take the attention away from his hunt for the real chosen one.”
“But that's impossible – what about the way Google's parents died and the birthmark?” asked Abe.
“He tampered with the reanimation machine so that only Google would survive the space jump – the miraculous survivor. And the birthmark is just a combination of scarring and tattoo work. I even saw the footage of them doing it.”
Google sat down silently, his head in his hands.
“So what do we do now?” asked Abe.
“We have 24 hours to hand over the piece of The Trinity Key; he said that if we did that, he'd spare us; that he wouldn't hunt us down.”
“And you trust him?”
“No. Of course not – the guy's 101 flavours of evil. But, we don't really have any other option, do we? If we don't hand it over, he'll request the Intergalactic Council put a kill order on all of us. He already controls over 50% of the Council – it's very possible he could get the 66% vote required. We'd have every member of the entire galaxy's armies and police squadrons after us.”
Google started to run his hands through his hair, the way someone might do if they were stressed out about discovering they're not a prophesied hero. Jupiter rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, look at this way kid, it's over. You should be happy. No more having to worry about killing Mykur. No more worrying about having to be some hero.”
Jupiter walked over to his control monitor, ”We can just press this button, make a deal and it's all over.”
“Press the button,” Google said softly.
“Are we all sure?” asked Jupiter.
“It makes tactical sense,” replied Justice.
“It's our only choice,” added Abe.
Liberty just sat quietly.
“Press it,” Google said more forcefully.
Jupiter did as he was told and a few seconds later a hologram of Prince Mykur appeared before them, smiling politely.
“How nice it is to see you all – particularly you master Google. I take it we can come to some sort of arrangement?”
Google stood and slowly approached the hologram.
“Here's the deal I'm prepared to make: You murdered my parents. I never even really got to know them. And you think I'll give you what you need to rule the galaxy? So I'm not the chosen one and I may not be able to face you in battle and live – but so help me, I don't care if I die in the process, I'm going to kill you, you evil son of a bitch. Do you hear me!? I'm going to fucking kill you!” he yelled before smashing the hologram projector into a hundred pieces.
“Well, that went well,” Abe muttered to himself.
“Well, it's on my back... I didn't exactly spent a lot of time examining my back when I was a kid. What's the big deal?”
“What's going on?” asked Liberty, starting to sound concerned.
“And do stop moving – you're all whooshy when you move,” said Justice.
“What's with him?” Jupiter asked Liberty.
“He's can't handle his alcohol straight.”
“You can drink it arty?”
“No. I mean, he's used to having it mixed with coke. We're Cokecasians, remember.”
“Can we get back to the topic of our imminent, painful death?” asked Abe.
“Ok, I just received a transmission from Mykur – asking me to hand over Google.”
Liberty automatically reached for her blaster, “You didn't...”
“No. Stupidly it would seem! He said Google's not the chosen one. Mykur just set things up to make it look like he was to take the attention away from his hunt for the real chosen one.”
“But that's impossible – what about the way Google's parents died and the birthmark?” asked Abe.
“He tampered with the reanimation machine so that only Google would survive the space jump – the miraculous survivor. And the birthmark is just a combination of scarring and tattoo work. I even saw the footage of them doing it.”
Google sat down silently, his head in his hands.
“So what do we do now?” asked Abe.
“We have 24 hours to hand over the piece of The Trinity Key; he said that if we did that, he'd spare us; that he wouldn't hunt us down.”
“And you trust him?”
“No. Of course not – the guy's 101 flavours of evil. But, we don't really have any other option, do we? If we don't hand it over, he'll request the Intergalactic Council put a kill order on all of us. He already controls over 50% of the Council – it's very possible he could get the 66% vote required. We'd have every member of the entire galaxy's armies and police squadrons after us.”
Google started to run his hands through his hair, the way someone might do if they were stressed out about discovering they're not a prophesied hero. Jupiter rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, look at this way kid, it's over. You should be happy. No more having to worry about killing Mykur. No more worrying about having to be some hero.”
Jupiter walked over to his control monitor, ”We can just press this button, make a deal and it's all over.”
“Press the button,” Google said softly.
“Are we all sure?” asked Jupiter.
“It makes tactical sense,” replied Justice.
“It's our only choice,” added Abe.
Liberty just sat quietly.
“Press it,” Google said more forcefully.
Jupiter did as he was told and a few seconds later a hologram of Prince Mykur appeared before them, smiling politely.
“How nice it is to see you all – particularly you master Google. I take it we can come to some sort of arrangement?”
Google stood and slowly approached the hologram.
“Here's the deal I'm prepared to make: You murdered my parents. I never even really got to know them. And you think I'll give you what you need to rule the galaxy? So I'm not the chosen one and I may not be able to face you in battle and live – but so help me, I don't care if I die in the process, I'm going to kill you, you evil son of a bitch. Do you hear me!? I'm going to fucking kill you!” he yelled before smashing the hologram projector into a hundred pieces.
“Well, that went well,” Abe muttered to himself.
!!
Ok I read two and am only commenting once - is that blogging faux pas?
Either way, good to see the story is still moving along. Enjoying the developments, I want Google to kick some major ass too now... X) A thousand pities on you if there's no resolution to this 'Cher' business too!!
Jimzip :D
Thanks for the comment - I hope there's some resolution to the Cher thing too! (Odd thing is she turned up in an unrelated script I was writing the other day - I obviously have some subconscious Cher obession!)
'Subconscious' - right... :P
I want more Abe (just quietly). Possibly a spin-off story-blog. :)