A Story, Bit-by-Bit
Superego: Part 44 – Everyone Dies

BEGINNING OF STORY
PREVIOUS (PART 43)


The transport crashing through the building had upturned dust throughout the building. All I needed was to see a silhouettes, though, as I was the only one who had no need to identify a target before firing. I killed three as soon as I emerged from the backroom. There was some firing back at me. It was panic fire, but it allowed me to identify the direction of some more targets and rack up a few more kills.
If the terrorists had followed their plans correctly, their crash should have blocked the main entrance. Dip should now have set off the building’s anti-terrorism defenses blocking off all the windows and other exits.
The Randatti thought they were going to ambush the Corloni. The Corloni thought they were ambushing the Randatti. The Cyber-Islamist thought they were ambushing unarmed citizens. Instead, they were all trapped inside here with me.
And I was easy to identify, because I was the only one with a big smile on his face.
“Dip, put my voice over the building’s speakers at as high as the volume goes… and echo it if you can.”
The dust still hadn’t settled, but I had the building plan memorized and made my way towards the main auditorium quickly. In the confusion, the gunfire had died down a bit as everyone was probably more focused on escaping rather than killing each other.
I’d change that.
“JUDGMENT DAY IS HERE! PREPARE FOR THE FIRES OF HELL BECAUSE NO ONE IS ESCAPING THIS BUILDING ALIVE!”
It takes a lot to scare professional killers, but I was up for the challenge.
I came upon another group, and made quick work of them before they could tell what was happening. I then got to the main auditorium, and there was nothing there but targets.
My smile grew even wider.
“I AM THE ANGEL OF DEATH!” The dust was settling and they were fighting each other, but most turned their attention to me as soon as I ran in shooting using my split brain to take on two targets at a time. “I AM GOD’S WRATH!” I killed a group of hitmen. “THE WICKED SHALL NOW MEET THEIR END!” The terrorists, the most panicked of the lot, fired on me without an ounce of accuracy. I swept the auditorium clean of them. “DEATH TO THE FOLLOWERS OF SATAN!” A bolt flew past my face, and I spun around and returned many more at another group of hitmen. “JUSTICE IS HERE, AND IT WILL FIND YOU ALL!”
This was too much fun. It really was luck that some random shot didn’t hit me in all the panic fire, but I’ve survived on luck before. Maybe there is a God and He likes me.
The auditorium was soon clear, and it seemed most everyone had retreated to the hallways and other rooms of the auditorium to try and hole up and make a defense. A bit more of a challenge, but they were still in my trap and no the other way around.
“YOU COWARDS MAY TRY AND FLEE, BUT ATTEMPING TO ESCAPE ME ONLY INCREASES MY TERRIBLE WRATH!”
I entered a hallway and saw a closed door. I fired a few shots into it and got a number back in response. This is where my professional skills kicked in as I used my hearing and the observation of the angle of the shots to determine how many were in the room and where so my next shots were more lethal. A few terrorists came down at me through the hallway, and I shot them with one gun while my other gun fired into the room. I then kicked open the door and killed the two inside left living.
“DAMNED BE THE ARROGANT, FOR THEIRS IS THE FIRES OF HELL!”
A group sprung out of a door and tried to ambush me, but they were two slow and were soon burning bodies on the ground.
“DAMNED BE THE WICKED, FOR THEY SHALL MEET ETERNAL AGONY!”
I entered into a kitchen area where thugs tried to fire from cover, but none of it stood up to my blasters. It smelled liked burned chicken in there when I was done. All sentient species smell like burned chicken when you blast them.
“DAMNED BE THE PERSECUTORS, FOR THEY SHALL A THOUSANDS TIMES REAP WHAT THEY SOWED!”
Now terrorists and hitmen rushed me at the same time. It was nice to know I could unite such diverse groups. They died together as well.
“DAMNED BE THE VIOLENT, FOR THEY SHALL OBTAIN VIOLENCE!”
Some thugs were trying to blast their way out of a sealed window, and turned just in time to see the instrument of their death.
“DAMNED BE THE EVIL IN HEART, FOR THEY SHALL SEE ME!”
Those left seemed to be firing at any sound, even taking out some of the speakers. They only gave themselves away in their actions, and I wiped the universe clean of them.
“DAMNED BE THE WARMONGERS, FOR THEY ARE THE CHILDREN OF SATAN!”
“God is great!” was what I universal translator interpreted as the shouts of a few terrorists as they fired on me, but apparently their god wasn’t great enough to give them basic aiming skills. My blasters tore them apart.
“Die, you freak!” shouted a female voice, and I finally met a concerted enough effort to kill me that I had to duck into another hallway for cover. It was some of Morrigan’s group, and they apparently knew how to work as a team.
I laughed, and my broadcast laughter echoed throughout the building.
“DAMNED BE THE WHORES, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO @#$% THEM UP!”
There was some shouting and gunfire from behind them as apparently some of the Cyber-Islamists and run into them. This was enough of a distraction for me to jump and charge them, gunning them all down as they tried to fire upon me. It was at least a dozen, but not one landed a shot.
I was invincible.
There was only a little clean up left, and soon the only thing in the building other than me was the smell of death. Satisfied, I headed back towards the room that held Gredler’s corpse and the path to the escape vehicle. I hit a few buttons on my wrist console telling Dip to stop broadcasting my voice. “What’s the situation outside?” I asked him.
“There was some fighting outside of the building between who I assume was Randatti and Corloni hitmen, but it looks like they have left. The police seemed to have stayed away.”
I headed for the rear door in the backroom, stepping over Gredler’s corpse. It led to a hallway ending at a small landing pad. The sky was currently blocked by a metal shield. “Unlock the place, Dip. I’ll meet you on the other side of the planet and then we take a nice vacation.” I smiled. “We’ll have to go many galaxies away to find a place where they won’t be saying the name ‘Rico’ in hushed whispers after this.”
As the metal shield folded away, the sun began to shine through. I headed for the vehicle waiting there, but stopped just before walking onto the landing pad. I realized my guard was down, and now would be the perfect time to kill me if someone was smart.
I fired into the overhang to the exit onto the landing pad. The smoldering body of Morrigan then fell to the ground.
“What was that?” Dip asked.
“Morrigan – the redhead. She actually assumed I would survive and waited for me at the escape to shoot me in the back. That’s smarter than I thought she’d be. Almost had me, really.”
“Does that mean anything?”
“Mean anything? Why would it…” I stopped suddenly as I heard footsteps behind me, so loud it was like I was supposed to hear them. I instantly spun around and pulled the triggers on both my guns at the person.
Nothing happened. I was now staring down a metal gun barrel, and I noticed that all the lights in the hallway were now out. As I stood there with two useless weights in my hand, I heard the distinct sound of a double action trigger on a revolver. It seemed to happen in slow motion, but, in reality, it was too quick for me to do anything. There was the rotating of the cylinder as the hammer pulled back, the click of the cylinder locking into place, and the fall of the hammer. Last came the sound of the bullet being fired, the explosion of it an exclamation point in what had just been marked the last chapter of my life.
THE CONCLUSION

Putting the Supreme Court Back into Perspective

Okay, I ain’t thrilled by the Harriet Miers pick for the Supreme Court, but I have to disagree with a lot of the conservative critics out there. They talk about her not having distinguished qualifications, and that just means they are falling into the trap of making the job of a Supreme Court seem more complex than it is.
So what is the job of a Supreme Court Justice? It’s to interpret the Constitution. And what is the Constitution?
A FOUR PAGE DOCUMENT!
Think about it: the job of a Supreme Court Justice – his only job for his entire life – is to understand four pages of text. Why do you even need a legal degree for this? I’m not even sure you need a high school diploma. The two times I took the SATs, I got a 770 out of 800 on the verbal. One of those times, I got every single reading comprehension question right. I think that more than qualifies me to be an excellent Supreme Court Justice. In fact, I might be too qualified.
Really, if you look at it, this job is just barely too difficult to have a Chimp do it. It ranks slightly higher in complexity than the guy who rips your ticket in two when you enter the cinema complex and tells you what theater to go to.
Four pages, people. And it’s your only job to understand them. For most people, that would take less than an hour, but, as a Supreme Court Justice, you have your entire life.
Okay, it’s slightly more complex than that as there are like twenty-seven Amendments (none of them very long) and some of the S’s in the document look like F’s, but this ain’t brain surgery people. It’s not even taking someone’s blood pressure.
But, people have to act like it’s so much more complicated than that. There’s a big academic debate out there whether the Constitution gives an individual or collective right to bear arms, but the average citizen is completely unaware of that debate. Most know there is an individual right to bear arms because THAT’S WHAT THE DOCUMENT SAYS. Really, a level-headed twelve-year-old could do a better job than some of the academic pinheads now serving. And the President could appoint a twelve year-old (if you don’t believe me, read the Constitution – it’s only four pages!).
And, no, I don’t want the job. I spent four years in college learning digital circuitry, and thus I find the simplistic job of a Supreme Court Justice beneath me. If you want a new pick, I’d say check the fry cooks at the local McDonalds. Just don’t take one from the McDonalds next to my house, because it’s already understaffed. Actually, if Souter quit his current job and worked there, he’d being doing a lot more good for his country.

Get Your Free Ice Cream Before It’s Gone

Acidman is dying. I’m not sure what to say to that. Maybe “Don’t die,” but he probably wouldn’t listen to me.
I honestly hadn’t read his blog in a while, but I guess it’s time to catch up. I’d go on about my opinion of Acidman, but then this would sound like an obituary. And, well, he’s still blogging, so it ain’t time for that.
Anyway, go read his posts.