A cutting ship launches from an asteroid devoted as a
mining depot (F M K) in the belt, mining drones turning to observe, then drop their
labors to follow.
The
interrogation's subject, Arsinoe/Mishil begins stripping from her business
suit to the bandages beneath, aced all the way up and down and looking
like a mummy, she opens the wheeled suitcase.
The heavy skulls
like those under Apollo's own skin. She puts on her goggles falling
into the skull helm's sockets when she puts it on. Another skull over
the left shoulder, the right left bare but for the wraps.
She
assembles the gunblade, broad sword and barrel as one heavy piece of
steel, perhaps the only thing left of a far older world she may or may not remember. The
scope slides over with a ratcheting sound.
She loads, while Apollo devours a meal who's eyes appear to hopelessly watch the careless revelry of her kind.
________
The Boy stares into the eyes of a lion in the zoo, the caged beast staring back.
nameless - Suddenly standing next to him, "What's he saying ?"
The Boy - Looks up at him a second, analyzing. Then back to the lion. "Freedom."
nameless - "Are you going to free him ?"
The Boy - Looks around at the people, the rest of the animals along the walkway for show. "I think so."
nameless
- Considers this a moment, looks to the lion. The lion looking back
then to the boy again, near thirsty. "Well ... I suppose they ... mostly look like fair
runners."
The Boy - As the locks drop all around and the screaming begins. "They do." He looks around, "Mostly."
________
As Apollo feasts on the living in
his lap with dulled eyes, the red of the throne and merriment around making the horror
near invisible. He looks up in focus.
Apollo - In his thoughts, "Do you hear me
my son ?"
Aesculapius - Heard in his mind, "Clearly. As always."
Apollo - "This is good. One day you will deal with the cattle too, these slaves slaving slaves, slaving themselves until meat. This system will be yours."
Aesculapius - "I do not care to indulge their sickness but only to feed, and to feed our people. To keep the furnaces burning with their bones"
Apollo - "And burn well they do." He finishes his meal. "You will rule as you choose my son, I truly care not. Only that you've made me proud. I leave you to your thoughts, my prince." He looks down and tears a bite.
Aesculapius - ... "My king."
The young prince walks out over the ruling parapet, bones of the dead god spread as towers upon which eons have passed, civilizations risen and fallen. Risen again or rising it appears, the temples spread and soldiers march.
Vessels to and fro from the high docks set at the tips of the ribs, a world spreading beyond sight on the inside of the carcass' ring turning for gravitation.
Before the tower a series of cannons lining a docking port from the center of the ring, ships porting in and out of varied kinds, varied species, most notably some appearing as ghosts."You can see it in their eyes." Over the dull eyes of Apollo's meal, spinning dancers reflected within, "No one believes their own story."
Arsinoe circles through from the swarm of drones descending on Apollo's ship like they were mining ores. Her ship spins pounding hard with the guns on a single cannon port.
First grabbing one alien from behind and slitting the throat, letting his gurgle fall off the rail, building to merciless a dance between them until they flee her more than the ship's destruction.
Outside the hull cracks in half under mining lasers with a thump throughout the ship, a veering gravitation felt inside as Mars too fast approaches on the screen.
~ on Nibiru Apollo's son's eyes go wide in realization.
~ his son screams the pain.
~ the eyes go wide on Nibiru as the psychic connection freezes him.
~ the credits ~
View close on his face as she chokes him out as he struggles twitching hard into convulsions, the entry sparks in his broad eyes as land approaches too fast. And after the struggling and kicks end the screen goes black with the dullness of his eyes at the end of the song.
~
just
their voices ~
Subject - "So what about you Agent Geneva ? What was your childhood like ? I really can't imagine."
Not the current Agent Geneva - "Oh. You know. 'Boring'."
Subject - "Please."
...
Geneva - "I grew up in a soda pop town." A laugh. "The town was built around the factory mainly for the workers very small. And everyone who lived there, either worked in the soda factory, or somehow served ... or supported ... those who did."
Subject - "And you didn't want to."
Geneva - "No. I did not.
Subject - "So you ran away."
Geneva - "No. I burned down the soda factory."
~ the sound of hard entry burn, cuts out sharp ~