End of Women: Part Four

Mars Stands

Like a tree felled by a single shell, Rathers teetered on the spot for a suspended second and then slowly waned sideways, slumping into the dust. 

Wind seared along the valley floor. Half-detatched rotor blades spun weakly like weather vanes. Nate took sharp breaths as he stared at the body that, only seconds before, had been his most powerful adversary.

Alex placed his pistol back onto his belt and turned to Nate, his expression blank as if he had done nothing less ordinary than restock a shelf.

"Thank-you for making this known." He said to Nate. 

Nate was speechless. He barely heard his own airship coming in to land behind him. It was only when two gunnery sergeants appeared at his sides armed and ready to fire at Alex that Nate found his mind coming back online.

"Don't kill him!" He yelled frantically at the shouting men. "Do not kill him!"

Alex had his hands in the air but his expression was still flat and determined. 

"Orders, Sir?" One of the sergeants pressed Nate. 

Nate stepped toward Alex, mouth still agape, looking at the man as if he were a species as yet undiscovered or documented.

"Why did you do that?"

"He was a traitor." Alex replied, loudly enough for the two other men to hear. "Arrowhead cannot be led by traitors."

"There will be men in there," Nate pointed at Mars Station, "who will see you as the traitor. So many of them worshipped Rathers."

"All the same." Alex said stiffly, reloading his weapon with steady fingers. "You came here looking for justice. Its been served."

"I guess so." Nate watched a droplet of blood ooze down Rather's forehead. "You plan on leading the Arrowheads now?"

"Those men follow what they believe in. If they believed in Rathers, they will leave, or kill me. If they believed in the cause, they will stay, perhaps killing me anyway. If they believed only in slaughter... then this is nothing to them." Alex finished sadly as he looked out over the battlefield. "I need to go." He finished.

Nate jerked his head, patting the air at his men so that they lowered their weapons. Alex kept his hands in the air as he backed away, then placed them behind his head when he turned. He was twenty paces off in the direction of Mars Station before the smoky mist consumed him.

Nate went back to the airship feeling as if he had aged ten years during the course of a single conversation. As they loaded back up he said to the nearest man, "Just what the fuck is up with those guys?"

The wrought iron gates of Mars Station ground open slowly. Two thousand men huddled close to the portcullis, having seen Rathers and Alex walk out. A lone figure returned to them, and as they craned necks and squinted to see sight of their leader, two thousand voices started to whisper, then grumble, and soon enough cry out.

Alex came up to within fifty feet of the crowd. He wondered if any remembered him, other than from stories that had drifted across the border. Most of them had been recruited since he had left, all young boys full of hate pulled in to Rathers' inescapable vacuum, and now become men. How he envied, and pitied them at the same time. It would be easier, and perhaps better, he knew, to just walk away and let them figure out the truth for themselves. They would hate him, hunt him, maybe even succeed in killing him, but he might evade them for a time. Even so, it felt like cowardice to do anything but admit what he had done, and allow them to do as they chose. That was the Arrowhead way; each man has his own right to see justice done, in his own way.