Bacchus

He let go of the couch, grabbed the collars of Two and Three, hoisted them up as shields, and ran at One who'd stepped away from the corner of the house. Bron was surprised that One didn't hesitate at all to open fire on his partners. He must have only had two shots in that shotgun as he threw it after he shot them and drew a handgun. Two and Three were squealing with pain from their injuries and screaming at One to stop shooting. One only had time to get one more shot off, but it went right through Two and grazed Bron's arm. The shock made him drop the dead man. Bron dropped Three on One's gun, hand them slapped the man's face hard enough to snap his neck. A chunk blew out of the corner of the house next to Bron's shoulder as Five finally made it around the house to join the fight. Bron ducked around the corner and raced for the back of the house, keeping his eyes open for additional assailants. He lucked out as there was no one in the backyard except for the smoldering corpse of Four. Bron grabbed the fuel tank from his portable torch. Then he leaped up onto the roof of the house and lay quietly, listening to the crunch of Five's footsteps in the gravel of the front yard. He slowly eased his way to the peak of the roof and looked over. The man was in the middle of the open space, looking scared as shit.

Bron got his knees under him and opened the valve on the tank. He popped up and threw the cylinder at Five in a flat trajectory. Five's reflexes were quick as he spun his weapon's barrel towards Bron, but the fuel tank hit him in the chest, and he dropped the rifle. It fired when the gun's butt hit the hard ground, and the muzzle flash ignited the gas jetting from the cylinder. A tremendous thump tossed Five into the air to get tangled in the razor wire on the property's security wall.

From his vantage point on the roof, Bron looked around, but there were no more assailants.

He heard sirens approaching in the distance. Bron hopped down from the roof and went inside to check on Bailley. He saw the bathroom door was still closed.

"Bailley? All clear. The police are arriving."

The door flew open, and she rushed out to cling to him. He felt her shaking. He felt a twinge in his left arm where he'd been grazed by the bullet. "I think you're going to need a new place to live."

"Brisbee," she said into his chest.

"That works for me," he smiled.

The police cruisers' flashing lights painted the inside of the house with lurid light as they pulled into the courtyard.

-=-

Hours later, Bron woke from the nap he'd taken in the local jail's holding cell. The police weren't sure what to do with him. They had four dead bodies of local good ol' boys and one in critical condition in the hospital. Three of the men had been on the offender list from the women's shelter, and the apparent target of the attack was the administrator of the refuge. The detectives were taking her statement.

The problem was, Bron had killed. The grisly proof was obvious in the burnt corpse of Larry Gibson and the broken neck and fractured skull of Dean Stotts. While Dean was responsible for Brad and Jeff Kilgore's shooting deaths, the other two were killed by Bron. Granted, it was in self-defense, but the public's fear of him mandated they take extra precautions. The people had been aware he was no longer controlled by Genie conditioning, but the previous evidence that he wasn't violent had eased their fears. Now this happened, showing he was capable of terrible violence. The public was in an uproar.

So Bron stayed in the cell.

The holding area was quite quiet and cool, and he had a bed to rest on, so he was comfortable. He was a little hungry, but he wasn't desperate yet.

He sat up and heard the distant sound of a door opening. This was followed by additional thunk and clank sounds of the outer gates being opened and closed. Then he listened to the slow click of heels approaching. He waited patiently and watched the hall. The footsteps stopped, then started up again.

Angelina, a very pregnant Angelina, walked around the corner and looked at him.

Bron stood and felt his heart clench as he stared into familiar blue eyes.

"Hello, Bron."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He blinked and cleared his throat.

"Hello, Angelina," he could finally say.

They stood staring at each other.

Angelina's eyes dropped to the bandage on his arm. "You were injured again."

"It's nothing. A scratch." He looked at her belly. "You--congratulations are in order, I guess."

Her hands moved to rest on her domed belly, and she smiled. "Thank you."

The silence stretched out. Bron finally sat. "Well, it was nice of you to visit."

Angelina looked away and brought her hand to her mouth. "You left me," she gasped through her fingers as she struggled to hold back her tears.

"What?" Bron wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly, as what she'd said made no sense.

"The night of the explosion... you left me." She was trembling now.

Bron looked at her, unable to defend himself as he had no memory of the event.

"I don't understand. I left you in the building?"

"NO! You got us to safety, THEN YOU WENT BACK FOR LAURA!" she screamed.

Bron racked his brain, trying to understand. Having no memory of Laura before meeting her in the hospital when he woke up, he had no idea why he would have left Angelina for her.

"I NEEDED YOU, AND YOU LEFT ME!" Angelina sobbed, and Bron sat looking at her helplessly.

"Do you know why I did that? I can't defend my actions of that night as I lost the memories. The last memories I have are of being desperately in love with you at the eye doctor's office and my joy at seeing your face again," Bron said quietly.

Angelina slid to the floor, leaning back against the wall as she continued to cry.

"When I woke in the hospital, you'd already left. To begin your new life here. With him." Bron's heart ached so much as he looked at the beauty crying quietly on the other side of the bars.

Angelina summoned the strength to force back her tears, and she looked at him. Her blue eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and her lips trembled, but she faced him. There was... something in her eyes.

"I watched you breathing, connected to the machines, healing but asleep. I did that for months, and it was tearing me apart. I'd wander the hospital corridors, going over that critical moment in my mind again and again. How we'd miraculously escaped death, how we had our future as a couple ahead of us, and how you returned for her. Every time I came back from my thoughts, I'd find myself in the maternity ward outside the nursery. I watched the babies sleeping. Sweet innocence. A new beginning. Eventually, I realized my feet were wiser than my brain. I needed a new start as well. I knew what I had to do. I had to listen to what my body was telling me."

Bron sat looking at her in silence. He understood now. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry. You deserve children. That's something you would never have with me. I would have understood if you had told me that's why you left me--"

"YOU LEFT ME!" Angelina screamed, then her tears started afresh. Her body was shaking as deep sobs racked her.

Bron leaned back against the wall and stared at her.

In his soul, he knew what she was saying wasn't the truth. He couldn't recall the events of the night, but he knew with every fiber of his being that he hadn't chosen Laura over Angelina. He wanted to scream the truth at her. That it was her who'd abandoned him. He wanted her to take responsibility for the terrible pain she'd caused him.

It finally crystalized what he'd seen in her eyes. She was begging him.

He suddenly recalled what he'd told Bailley. A part of his heart would always love Angelina, and that part was now telling him he had to let her have this.

She needed the lie. As much as she needed children, she needed to believe that he'd left her.

She needed it to heal. To move on with her life. To enjoy her new life with her husband and children without reservation.

A wave of pain washed over his soul. Then he sat upright and looked at the crying woman.

"Yes. I did."

Angelina looked up at him in shock.

"As I said, it was nice for you to visit," Bron said in a cool voice.

She struggled to get back on her feet, and Bron kept his expression flat, eyes looking off to the side at nothing.

Angelina looked at him once more.

"Goodbye," he said in a cool, indifferent tone.

Unable to speak, she nodded and left slowly.

When she was out of sight, he listened carefully to the sound of her footsteps. Slow and unsteady at first, the clicking pattern smoothed, and by the time she reached the exit, she was back to a normal pace.

When he heard the outer door close, he sagged on the bed and leaned his face in his palms. He felt that small part of his heart reserved for Angelina tearing itself open once more, the pain fresh and sharp. For the first time in his life, he wished for the ability to cry.

Chapter 29

Pietr had Bron transferred to the police in Brisbee. The locals in Garroon were making noises about forming a lynch mob to kill the monster that took the life of the men who were just defending their way of life.

Laura Augustine was all over the Garroon media, actively challenging each of these people to justify their claim that their wives' and daughters' abuse was an acceptable and civilized way of life.

Bailley was transferring her duties at the woman's shelter to another worker as she prepared to return to Brisbee. She moved in with Laura at her hotel while that happened, as her house was no longer safe.

Bron found himself in the detention wing of the Brisbee Court House in shackles. His chains were passed through a loop on a table he was seated behind.

Thirty minutes later, two armed security officers entered the room and took up stations on either side of the room facing Bron. Next came a camera crew, consisting of a director and his cameraman, who set up several miniature camera pods managed with his wireless control station. Pietr finally arrived with one of Walla's Supreme Court Judges, His Honor Lawrence Dizdale. Pietr took one of the chairs across from Bron and scowled when he saw the wrist chains.

"Are these necessary?" he said, addressing the guards.

"Standard operating procedure," one stated. Dizdale nodded in agreement.

Pietr turned to face Bron.

Bron lifted the chains slightly, and they made a frightful rattling against the desk loop. The guards tensed, and the reporters eased back. "Why am I in custody?" Bron began.

"It's protective custody, Bron," Pietr said in a tired voice.

"I'm not being charged with murder for defending Bailley and myself against those armed attackers?"

"No," Dizdale said.

"Am I allowed to refuse the protective custody?"

There was a pause as Dizdale looked at Pietr. "No."

"So it's not protection for me. It's protection from me. I'm just in custody." He sat back against his chair back with a thump. The chains rattled loudly, and the camera crew jumped at the noise. He gave them a frustrated look. "Really? Have I become the big bad boogie man just because I didn't roll over and allow those men to kill us?" Bron looked to the man controlling the cameras. "If five armed men surrounded your house with you and your family inside and broke in and you had no weapons to protect yourself, would you just sit there and let them kill you?"

The man shook his head. "Of course you wouldn't! You'd want to live! You'd want to protect your loved ones! You'd fight back by any means you had at your disposal!" He looked back at Pietr and the Judge. "I was told that I was a citizen. Every citizen is responsible for following society's laws. If they break one, they face criminal prosecution. Am I a citizen or not?"

"You are Bron, but--" Pietr began.

"Okay, I'm a citizen. Have I committed a crime?" he pushed on.

Pietr was quiet for a second, looking at Bron. "No."

"So I'm a citizen who's broken no laws, yet I'm being held in custody, and I'm chained to a table? Have any other citizens been treated in this manner?" Bron asked.

"No, but you're not just any citizen--" Dizdale began.

"Oh! You have a graduated scale of citizenship with each level having a separate and distinct set of rights?" Bron asked.

Pietr was becoming frustrated, but he could see Bron felt the same way. "No."

"Then I'm just another citizen. I should be given the same respect and be held accountable for my actions, just like every other citizen. I know I'm not human, but I was given Walla citizenship because I want to be a good citizen. I want to contribute positively to the planet. I want to help people! That's why I took that course to learn Therapeutic Massage. I'm not a violent person. I despise violence. That doesn't mean I won't protect myself and those I care about when circumstances demand it."

"The other citizens are frightened, Bron. It's our duty to protect them," Dizdale said calmly.

"I applaud the intent, but when you violate a citizen's rights to do it, aren't you becoming more of a risk to them than I am? I'm just one being who wants to live in peace. You represent Walla's governing body. You're demonstrating their rights mean nothing should you decide they represent some undefined threat."

"How can you say undefined? You killed two men!" Lawrence asserted.

"In doing so, did I break the law? Have I committed a crime? Have I violated any of Walla's defined legal rules?" Bron asked. "If I had, there might be justification in how you're treating this citizen." He raised his palms to stop his answer, and the chains rattled loudly. "Don't bother answering, you've already said I haven't broken any laws or rules. Yet the chains remain."

Lawrence scowled at Bron, and Pietr sat back and looked at the Supreme Court Judge. "He's right, your Honor. There is no justification for violating his rights as we are currently doing. We're playing right into the hands of the extremists. We need a civilized and honorable response instead of just reacting to mass paranoia and hysterical fear."

Dizdale frowned at Pietr, then nodded reluctantly. He looked at Bron and sighed. "We're going to need a press conference to undo the damage we've already done."

-=-

It took a few hours to arrange the press conference, but the turnout was enormous. Every media outlet was represented, and some were even from off-planet. Security was tight, but with the sheer number of people coming and going to set up their feeds, the difficulty in screening them all was daunting. There would be an element of risk. Bron was no longer chained and sat comfortably in a meeting room waiting to be called out for the conference. He'd received word that Bailley finished early and was on her way from Garroon.

Pietr entered the room and sat next to Bron.

"I've prepared a statement, and I think it might be best if we limited the number of questions to roughly a dozen or so. The most volatile or inflammatory ones will typically get asked early on, anyway. We shouldn't look like we're trying to sidestep anything, but if the question can't be answered without causing a firestorm of controversy, please let me address them."

Bron nodded.

"Did... did you see Angelina while you were in Garroon?" Pietr asked hesitantly.

Bron's stomach twisted. He nodded.

"How did that go?" the father asked.

Bron looked at the man. He would not load him with the burden of guilt for his daughter's actions. He respected the man too much to do that.

"She's really showing. Twins, I understand. You'll be a grandpa soon," Bron replied calmly.

Pietr watched Bron's face and suspected that he was being spared from something... painful. He nodded and smiled at the big man.

The hall door opened, and Bron heard the rumble from the gathered people in the largest conference room down the hall. It triggered a memory of the first press conference Bron had attended on Walla. His nervousness increased.

Supreme Court Judge Dizdale leaned his head in the room and gestured for the two of them to join him. It was time.

They walked down the hall and stepped into the room. Hundreds of cameras suddenly whirred and hum, and Bron's nerves flared. He cast his eyes around the room, looking for threats. There were so many people crammed into this chamber. It was impossible to track them all.

The raised podium was ahead, and he followed the Judge and Pietr up the stairs and moved to the back. As directed, he ignored the shouted questions and waited to be called upon by either of the two men.

The judge made his statement. He clarified the importance of laws in society and their role in protecting the people from sliding into the dark days of the past. He finished with a statement on the dangers of not protecting the individual civilian's rights and how this impacted every citizen.

Bron wasn't really paying attention as he was trying to find potential attackers in the audience. Just because he couldn't see them didn't mean they weren't there.

Pietr read a statement outlining the local investigation results and how the five men had broken several laws in their attack, and how this could only be described as a criminal act. He moved on to tell how this wasn't the first time Bron had intervened to save a human life and related the tale of their first news conference on Walla.

Bron's nerves were vibrating like mad at this point. He could feel the menace, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. There were just too many people and too much movement. He looked at the man who'd made his new life possible and realized Pietr was too exposed. Bron felt his feet moving before he knew why. He slipped between the man and the podium, knocking Pietr back.

"What are you doin--" Pietr growled quietly. Then his face and torso were covered in a spray of blood.

All hell broke loose in the next seconds. Screams, the buzz of police drones firing shock cannons, the scrape of chairs pushed back and knocked over, and the sound of running feet filled the air, all while the hum of the cameras filled the background.

Security personnel were immediately at Pietr's side, pulling him down between them, and hustled him off the stage. The planet's leading statesman looked back up at the platform as they rushed from the room and saw Bron slumped over the podium facing the crowd... with a large smoking hole in his back.

Pietr's scream was lost to the doors slammed between him and the room.

Chapter 30

Six months had passed since the final news conference for the planet's only Genie citizen. The shooter had been identified as a member of the violent Humanity for Humans group. His primary target had been Walla's Premier, but he was satisfied with only taking out the secondary target before his capture. He'd been rather smug until none of the planets in the Confederacy would verify his citizenship. None wanted to lay claim to the man willing to begin a planetary war as the assassination of a Premier would have launched. With no citizenship, the Confederacy's rules for the humane treatment of prisoners did not apply. Getting information from the man proved to be a task of mere hours. The result of this was a manhunt across every civilized planet in the Confederacy for the remaining leaders of the radical group. Three had been captured, two took their own lives, and four remained at large.

On Walla, life went on.

There was a small family of islands off the coast of the southern continent on Walla. Created by a dormant string of volcanos, they were lush and mostly untouched by civilization. Set aside as a nature reserve, the islands were largely unpopulated, with only a few research stations on a few of the southernmost islands and a small enclave of buildings reserved as a vacation spot for Walla's Premier on the largest northern island. A base housing a division of the planet's security detail also inhabited this island to ensure the Premier's stay was uninterrupted. The base personnel were rotated year-round to maintain the islands' security and protection, so it was a plum assignment.