War among the stars
PART I: President Juarez
President Juarez of the Terran Alliance rose from his desk and left the stacks of administrative junk behind. ‘Enough for today’, he thought. “Virgil! It’s time for my daily walk in the parc.” He shouted to his assistant.
“And the reports of the Marsian Research Comm … ” Virgil replied.
“No. I can’t see any more reports! Let’s just go for a walk.”
“Y…Yes sir, but …”
Without leaving his assistant time to react he walked through the door, out of his office. Where his two bodyguards, who always waited patietly outside, joined him. He took the elevator to the 118th floor. Then he walked over the bridge to the roof of the adjacent building. The roof of the ‘Lishma-Tower’ as it was often called, consisted of an indoor parc with many exotic flowers and other rarities. This particular place was his favourite. He came here at least once a day to enjoy the exclusive aroma’s of long extinct orchids.
But today he had the feeling this could be his last time …
He didn’t understand where the feeling came from, or why …
He was safe here, and he had his two bodyguards with him. What could possibly happen?
He told his bodyguards. They searched the whole parc: no danger to be seen.
Suddenly he saw something metallic shimmering in his eyecorner.
He turned around … and was death.
His bodyguards immediately saw it and went after it, while his assistant looked after the president. They intercepted it near the edge of the parc. It was a remote killer-droid. That meant the killer could be anywhere …
They distroyed it with a few well-aimed shots from their lasers and ran back to the place of murder.
“He’s dead.” said Thomas Tsjolkovsky, head of the medical facilities in the European sector.
“As dead as he can be.”
Vice-president Sivaa wondered how this could have happened. Juarez had been walking in one of the most secured parcs in the world with his two fine bodyguards, and still …
“I presume a reconstruction isn’t possible?”
“No, I’m sorry. The projectile went through both of his brainlobs. Whoever did this, had plenty of time to aim.”
“This shouldn’t have happened! Not in these difficult times. I’ll call for a crisismeeting immediately.”
“Sorry, but there really was nothing I could have done for him.”
“I’m convinced you did everything you could. There’s no blame for you, doctor Tsjolkovsky. And Thank you.”
“Eh … you’re welcome, vice-president.”
An hour later Vice-president Sivaa left the medical department of the government. He had a lot of work to do.
In the mean time, somewhere lost in the rush of the metropolis, a secret agent reported the succes of his mission to his superiors. The killer then left for the spaceport of Belgan and took a flight offplanet, booked under a pseudonym. Less than 3 hours after the murder of the president, the killer had left the planet.