Ryan Puthumana
"A King for a King"
2200 AD
King’s Palace, Geneva, Switzerland
The man ripped into the feast, gnawing greedily on a slab of meat. He was dressed in luxurious clothes resembling that of monarchs who came hundreds of years before him. A powdered wig sat high on his head. As the king finished of the beef roast, he eyed the rest of the dishes set before him. Several whole chickens sat on silver platters, broiled to perfection and engulfed in a heaping of perfectly cooked vegetables. Next to the poultry sat several rich cakes, overflowing with cream and various other delectable fillings. The king turned his attention to the cakes, scooping out enormous spoonfuls and shoving it into his mouth. As he sat back and dabbed his mouth with a napkin, the king took in the rest of the magnificent dining room he sat in. The table stretched on for at least a hundred feet, and the ceiling was barely visible high above. Approximately ten guards stood at attention at each of the entrances to the room, willing to give up their lives for their king at a moment’s notice. The monarch looked out the enormous window onto the gardens beyond the palace, a cold drizzle enveloping the entire scene as ominous black clouds loomed overhead.
Space Station 51
Medium Earth Orbit
2,000 miles above the Earth
The commander looked outside the porthole at the vast blue horizon spreading below him. Even after hundreds of years of space exploration, humans were mainly confined to Medium Earth Orbit, several thousand miles above the planet. Far below him, the commander could see a tiny speck that could only be the International Space Station. Even after all this time, historians insisted that it should be maintained for posterity. The commander was a practical man, and believed in no such sentimental rubbish. Ever since the time of the ISS, the world unified behind space exploration, sending out explorers to other planets and establishing colonies throughout the solar system. Mars had been settled by the later 21st century, the Moon by 2100, Venus by 2120, Mercury by 2150, and the outer planets and several moons by 2190. Humans had also decided to replace the nearly two hundred nations on Earth with one nation, led by a powerful king. Democracy was for the weak, they decided. Besides, it had faltered in every nation that used it as well. Authoritative rule was the only type powerful enough to lead humanity as a whole.
A clatter erupted behind the commander. He turned around, startled. A disheveled young officer rushed out of the visual analysis and communications room, his eyes wide with surprise.
“What is it, Officer Payne?” the commander inquired.
The young man gulped down air, then wiped away some sweat from his forehead.
“We’ve detected a large fleet of fighter ships heading right our way,” Payne blurted out. “There are approximately two hundred small ships, escorted by five destroyer ships. We have attempted to make contact with them, but the ships have not responded.”
The commander stifled a growing sense of fear, careful not to let the officer see.
“Do you know their origin?”
“Yes, sir. They have been identified as originating from Mars. After hacking into their logs, we discovered that they left the Valles Marineris space base about three sols ago.”
“And the Martian government failed to inform us of such a large launch?”
Payne nodded, visible distraught. “We believe that the fleet has hostile intentions, and we should be ready for attack.”
The commander agreed. “Prepare the torpedoes, alert the other stations, and tell the king to leave Geneva as soon as possible” He twisted his face in thought, then blurted out another command: “Warn the Moon base as well. Make sure the base is ready to send forces at a moment’s notice.”
Payne nodded, respectfully saluted him, then left into the visual analysis and communications room.The commander turned back to the view of Earth, contemplating if it would be his last. Their space station was one of thousands orbiting the Earth at various heights, ready to defend the planet from any attack. However, it hadn’t expected an attack from a rogue colony, especially not Mars. In past wars and insurrections against the king, it was always Mars that came to Earth’s aid, defending it from hostile colonial forces. His space station was among the smallest, home to around 50 officers and roughly half the size of a small fighter ship. Now he was up against two hundred of those fighter ships, along with the enormous destroyer ships that could wipe out a small asteroid with a single fire of its guns. The commander could only hope that the other stations would group together and the Moon would send extra forces.
It was about two hours later, when roughly one hundred stations had arrived, that the Martian fleet made its entrance. It seemed to stretch on forever, with hundreds of fighter ships. The destroyers were still too far away to be seen, but the commander hoped he could use that to his advantage. If his forces could take out most of the fighters, then they could regroup and likely inflict substantial damage on the destroyers. The Martians fired a warning shot, not aimed at any station but clearly signaling for them to move. The stations held firm in an unwavering and solid line. It was then that the first torpedoes were fired. Martian bombs drew deep into the space station ranks, taking out two large stations with a single explosion. The spectacle was silent, as sound cannot travel in a vacuum, but there was a rich plume of yellow, orange, and red that disappeared within seconds and claimed the lives of hundreds of men. Some stations valiantly returned fire, but the fighters were nimbler and weaved in and out of fired torpedoes. Soon, the region was full of exploding stations, with debris plummeting back to Earth. The debris burned up in Earth’s atmosphere, instantly killing any surviving men within the damaged stations.
The commander ordered his officers to fire torpedo after torpedo at the endless waves of Martians, but soon they were out of weapons. All around them, dozens of space stations ceased to exist in balls of smoke. Although some fighters had been shot down, there were too many. And worse still, the destroyers were visible. They were absolutely enormous, up to a mile in length and able to hold tens of thousands of men.
“Put the station in defensive mode!” he shouted at them. “And send for reinforcements from the Moon. We need all the forces we can muster.”
After one officer sent the necessary message, the commander anxiously paced around the cramped communications room. It was about thirty seconds before a message arrived on the main screen. Payne read the message aloud.
“The Revolution has Begun.”
There were no more words. There was no need for them. No reinforcements were going to come from the Moon. The commander rushed back to the porthole, desperate for a last view of the Earth. Smoke and debris blocked most of the view, but he could make out the general area of Geneva, which was shrouded in rain clouds. He thought of his king, and of his parents, now long dead. Tears fell down his wrinkled face.
“My king…” The torpedo ripped into the ship and within a few seconds, it was gone, plummeting to Earth among the hundreds of other space stations that had once guarded the planet.
King’s Palace, Geneva
The king was finishing off the last cake when the messenger came in. The monarch could have used his tablet for messages, as everyone did, but he preferred messages the old-fashioned way, as the kings of old would have received them. The messenger gave him a deep bow, then began his message:
“Your Majesty, I am sorry to inform you that over two hundred Martian-” A shot rang out and the man promptly fell to the ground. Behind him stood his most loyal guard, Martian-born Frederick Holmes. Holmes put down the smoking pistol with a fluid motion.
“This antiquated weapon was much easier to smuggle into the king’s quarters rather than a modern-day one”. Holmes said matter-of-factly. The other nine guards in the dining room closed all entrances with a resounding boom. In neighboring rooms, the sound of machine-gun fire and screaming people could be heard. The king slowly put down his spoon, careful not to show any fear in front of the traitors. The golden spoon made impact with the plate holding a partially eaten cake with a loud clatter. The gunfire had ceased to exist, and Holmes and the other guards advanced towards the table. Holmes carefully stepped over the dead messenger.
“He was a valiant man, but on the wrong side of the battle,” Holmes said of the messenger. He turned his eyes to the king. “The same cannot be said of you.”
The king, still in a shock over the past events, could not help but blurt out one question:
“What do you think you are doing, Frederick? We have been friends for nearly all our lives, and now you plot to kill me?”
Holmes shrugged. “I know where my allegiance lies, and it is not with you. My people have suffered and starved on Mars, toiling for you, while you stuff your face full of food every day. Have you no idea what these people are enduring?”
“I care for people as much as you do, Frederick!” the king replied.
“And yet, you stay cooped up in your palace, draining the colonies through taxes.” Holmes replied calmly. “I always knew one person was not strong enough to control all of humanity. What we need is democracy, not autocracy! The people must make the decisions, not one overfed old man who cares nothing for his people.”
The king had finally realized what was happening. An insurrection was occurring against him, much like it had with many kings before him. However, this time, there was one key difference- Mars was with the colonies.
The king tried to regain his composure, “I still control the Moon. They will always remain loyal to the king.”
Holmes almost looked faintly amused, as if he were a cat playing with a mouse before eating it. “And is that why the Moon base refused to supply reinforcements to the space station fleet when they requested it? And why the Martians were allowed to freely enter Earth airspace not a half hour ago without military confrontation? The Moon is with us, as is everyone else. Your weak forces have no chance against us. We will take control, and establish a democracy once and for all. The rights of every man will be respected, not trampled upon!”
The king finally let the traitors see his fear. He had lost the Martian colony, the space station fleet, and the Moon base as well. The end had come.
“Wha- what will you do with me?” the old monarch cried, trembling with fear.
Holmes pocketed the pistol. “We will not kill you” he replied, turning his back to his old friend.
The king almost collapsed with relief.
As Holmes exited the chamber, he added one more phrase: “Our Martian forces will.” The rest of the guards followed close behind their leaders, then securely locked all entrances from the other side. The king could hear their footsteps receding into the distance.
It had been exactly thirty minutes since the departure of Holmes and his men when the whirring of ships reached the King’s Palace. The king solemnly walked to the large window overlooking his beautiful gardens, his hands folded behind his back. The clouds were slowly receding from the sky overhead, and the king could hear several songbirds singing their sweet song. Rich reds and deep blues stretched out on the perfectly trimmed lawn before him. The king closed his eyes, soaking in the sunlight that peeked through the clouds. Holmes was hundreds of feet above the palace in a Martian fighter when the bombardment began. Dozens of fighters pummeled the beautiful palace, hundreds of years old, using all of their weapons. Within seconds, the building was nothing more than a pile of rubble, the king, his family, and his loyal servants buried deep underneath.
“Good-bye, old friend”, Holmes said as his ship rose into space.
2210 AD
Remnants of King’s Palace, Geneva
The fighting had been long and hard, but Holmes had won in the end. The king’s forces were easy to defeat- they were demoralized by the death of their leader. The hard part came when the Moon declared war on Mars and several colonies joined them. Fighting had raged all throughout the solar system, costing at least one million lives, but the Martians had a fierce perseverance that saw them through as the victors. Earth was reduced to smoking ruins, no longer the great power it once was. Holmes had decided to visit the Palace after the war, and as he roamed the grounds, he thought back to that day ten years ago, when it all began. He was still deep in thought when his son called out to him.
“Father, should we be going?”
“Yes, my son. Wait in the ship.” His son went back to the escort ship, ready to take them to Holmes’s coronation. After all, he was to be king of Mars and the other colonies. Holmes reached down into the ashes of the palace, letting it fall through his fingers.
“A king for a king,” he said, looking at the ashes disappear in the gently blowing wind. A million lives had been lost. All of the colonies had been ravaged. A king and his family had been brutally murdered. And for what? “A king for a king.”