Against the Crowd

I return to the city to acquire the spire. Made from components generated by my ship, it will be integral for its reconstruction. If I ever find this scientist, I will tear them limb from limb. I will disembowel them and force-feed their own entrails back into them. People have surrounded the tower, and they are being addressed by others who are on a stage. I recognize the short and tall helpful beings from earlier. They are signaling me to land on their elevated platform, and I do.

A large crowd has gathered to hear from me. I tell the two beings what has transpired and they inform me of their discoveries from inside the penthouse, but also express facts of the crowd. For too many years they have served under this executive that I murdered. Many view the dissolution of the barrier as a positive. I can only view it as the means to an end. I need my full connection to the universe once more. I must have my revenge on whatever has locked me away inside of my own gravity field.

They are done announcing me, and I approach the microphone as one removes lingering gore from my carapace in passing.

“You people are on my planet. You do not belong here. This is Loameria. You all have defiled my spacecraft. Defiled my corpse. These trespasses shall neither be forgiven nor forgotten until the end of time. Eventually, I will kill all of you. You have three months until your destruction.”

The shorter one whispers from behind me.

“Oh, yes, in this time these beings will be preparing this megalopolis to leave this planet. If you impede them, the slaughter shall begin with you. Otherwise aid them or continue on with your lives. I do not care.” I turn, and float away to the tower. There is a delayed smattering of applause before one of the helpful beings takes over the microphone.

Landing in the destroyed penthouse office, I enter the elevator shaft in the center of the building and take it into the deepest sub level. The scientist’s secondary lab. Full diagnostic monitoring of my ship. Full central-city monitoring. I can see why they felt so secure behind their stolen microcosm of my power. I must commend their aesthetics, making the diagnostic screens match so closely to the real thing is no minor undertaking. Especially when compared to the low quality of the closed circuit televisions that show the outside world inside their former barrier. The ship itself can make no forward progress in terms of putting itself back together. I have lived for countless years, and yet thinking of three months with these being feels as though it will be interminable.

I fly back to the roof, grab the gravity spire and shake off the remains of the bodyguard. I briefly look down at the small crowd I addressed. They cheer.

I take the spire back to my head’s quarters.


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