The right to live

There was a little puff of dust as the door to the zoology lab was forced open from the outside. A searching beam of light penetrated the darkness of tangled cages and torn bars. The old janitor peeked in and gave a troubled sniff. The air stank of rotten meat.

"Oh no," he groused as he walked in.

His light touched on scratched walls, smeared blood, and the stink of fear. "What happened in here?"

Slowly he brought his flashlight up to the vault at the far end of the room. Triple layers of forcefields were silent, and the multiple warning signs were in shreds.

"Oh no."

Something skittered behind him. He spun around with a start, but his light found only a rotting corpse of fur. The gills on the man's neck puckered in fear.

Another sound, this time closer. He brought his light to the source but found nothing.

Then the red eyes opened, glowing in the darkness to his left. Howling in fright, he ran for the door, but, but something grabbed his foot and held it fast. The man crumpled to the floor, his flashlight bouncing free of his grip.

The light spun around, illuminating his terrified face as something pulled him back into the darkness. He screamed, then all was silent.

* * *

"Hey, did you hear about W'Horrg from class 3-C?" Tulda asked as she painted her nails. "She gave Malkewiss her barrier key for Saint Lupin's day."

"Is she crazy?" Kamanie gawked, shielding her eyes from the sun. "He could do anything he wanted to her mind."

Tulda cooed. "I think it's kind of romantic, like giving someone the password to your heart. The ultimate gesture of trust."

Kamanie crossed her hands in front of her. "Nuh, uh. No way I'd ever give out my barrier key. Probably spend the rest of my life making sandwiches for some thurg."

Everyone's windows flashed green and the class snapped to attention as it stood out on the athletics field.

"This is the K2 sniper rifle currently in use by Alliance special operations forces," Coach Bar-gheiis explained excitedly as he removed the tarp and caressed the long black weapon set up on its bipod. "Accurate to up to five hundred kilsens, its aether-impeller can accelerate the projectile to incredible velocities. I call her Nariko."

The other students chuckled lazily, while Gerald scribbled down notes in his notebook. "Just how fast can she shoot, coach?" he asked as he wrote, the lead snapping off of his pencil.

Bar-gheiis grinned mischievously. "Well, let's just say the round can go nearly the speed of light."

Little windows with pictures of Albert Einstein appeared in front of everyone and the students laughed to themselves.

"Am... I missing something?" Gerald asked. Lazily, a bird flew overhead and emptied the contents of its bowels, splattering Gerald's shoulder.

"Oh yeah," Ilrica laughed, clapping him on the back, "because nothing can go faster than the speed of light, right, human?"

The class laughed some more.

"I feel like I'm missing the joke here," Gerald said, looking around. He found Cha'Rolette watching him oddly, but she didn't offer up any explanation.

"Oh my trob, look at this," Kamanie said, scrolling through the text further. "Humans believed in relativistic space-time? That is freaking hilarious!"

"String theory? Are you kidding me?" Aryc commented as he read further. "That's absurd. Why not just say magic fairies did it?"

"Now," Coach Bar-gheiis continued, clearing his throat to silence them, "unlike a beam weapon, your personal defense fields won't pick this up, so this and weapons like it have become preferred assassination tools. Like it or not, as the elite..."

"...and Dyson," Trahzi corrected.

"Right, as the elite plus one, any one of you could one day become a target from one of these, so it's imperative you learn to protect yourselves."

The students looked at each other nervously.

"The only way to anticipate it is to sense the aether buildup in the impeller. It's fairly distinct once you get the hang of it, so you're all going to become thoroughly intimate with this weapon. I want everyone to pair up."

The coach snapped his fingers and a row of such weapons grew up from the ground. Far downfield, the track reshaped itself into a target range.

Quickly, the students began selecting partners. Gerald approached a couple of them, but they turned away from him. He turned to the glowing Kzoyohaan, but she sniffed and turned away before he could even ask.

Cha'Rolette floated over to Gerald, shaking her head sympathetically, "Oh, Gerald, you really must work on your people skills."

"I'll make a note of that."

She brought the back of her hand up to her cheek. "Noblesse Oblige, it is the duty of the elite to set a good example. I have decided to take pity on you. Today you shall have the honor of training alongside the heir to the great..."

She was cut off when Jonarl appeared in between them.

"I will be your training partner, Madam Ssykes," he insisted.

"Oh... I... Of course," she reluctantly agreed.

Before long, Gerald found himself standing alone with only one other student on the field. The girl with red-skin and black eyes, Trahzi.

"Dyson, you and Trahzi pair up," Bar-gheiis said as he helped a pair of students load their weapon.

Trahzi scowled even more than usual. "Why do we have to be paired up with him?"

"If you don't want to be paired up with Dyson pick a partner quicker next time," replied Bar-gheiis.

Gerald flicked the translator on his ear. Despite swapping it out twice, it was still translating all her pronouns wrong.

"Okay, Gerald said, looking their weapon over. Where should we start?"

"Doesn't it make you feel guilty?" Trahzi asked, looking him over.

"What?"

"The air you breathe, the food you eat, the space you take up. You weaken the whole by your presence; you bring down the health of the group."

Gerald clucked his tongue. "I suppose a little, but not enough to like, off myself or anything. I mean, I have a right to exist, same as everybody, right?"

"No."

He chuckled, thinking she was kidding, then realized she was deadly serious.

"Existence is a right afforded only to those worthy of it," she said.

"Okay, I see your point, but tell me, who decides who is worthy and who isn't? You?"

Steam began rising up off of her red skin. "Coach Bar-gheiis," she yelled, nearly making the man jump out of his skin. "We would like a live round loaded into our weapon."

"This is no time for boasting, Trahzi," the coach scolded.

"It is not boasting if we can actually do it." Trahzi's hand burst into blue flame and she created a glowing ball of superheated gas in her grip. "Or should we do it ourselves?"

Coach Bar-gheiis obviously didn't know what to do. He looked to Cha'Rolette for confirmation.

"What's the worst that could happen? she opined. One less Trahzi."

"I doubt anyone would shed a tear at that," Tomar added.

The coach reluctantly conceded and opened up a special case with live ammunition and loaded one round into the weapon.

Trahzi leaned in close to Gerald. Being so close to her felt like being next to a frying pan. He could feel the heat coming off of her skin. "We are your target, Dyson. Shoot us."

Before he could respond, she disappeared in a flash of fire, then reappeared in a conflagration downrange before a target. Now it was Gerald's turn to look around, unsure of what to do. "Um, I'd really rather not," he began.

"Go ahead, Dyson, you're her partner," Tausav encouraged. A couple others chimed in as well.

"But I'm a pacifist."

"By Gorgav's fist, Dyson," the coach bellowed. "Discharge the weapon or I'll kick you out of my class!"

Gerald lifted up a finger. "Look..."

"Go on, you cannot hurt us," Trahzi yelled from downrange. "Even if you hit this body, we would not be diminished."

Gerald was amazed, but several of the students nodded in affirmation.

To emphasize her point, Trahzi turned around, presenting her back to him. "Shoot."

Gerald swallowed hard and checked the sights. The crosshairs were just to one side of her, so he tried to change the aim, but the weapon would not move. Readjusting his grip, he pulled hard, but nothing happened. Finally he wrapped both hands underneath the butt and put his full back into it. Another bird flew by and deficated. This time it landed in Gerald's hair.

"We grow impatient, Dyson," Trahzi yelled."

"Stop screwing around and shoot the weapon," coach Bar-gheiis barked.

"It must be the aether impeller," Gerald groaned as he took out a handkerchief and wiped himself off. "To a human this thing is like twenty tons."

"Of course it is, just alter the necass," Entayta explained.

Gerald's translator had trouble with that word. After a long pause, it finally gave a rough translation as 'the gravitational constant of the universe.'

"I can't change the gravitational constant of the universe," Gerald groaned. He kicked the butt of the gun with his shoe, trying to scoot it the one degree needed to center on her, but it would not move.

"Oh, my earring broke," Aryc noticed.

"Not for the whole universe, just around the weapon itself," Entayta added.

"Still can't," Gerald said, giving one final, ineffective kick.

Gerald put his hands on his hips, a little winded. "Um, Trahzi, could you maybe step two paces to your left," he called out.

Trahzi shivered with disgust, then stepped over, keeping her back to him.

"That's good," Gerald said, checking the sights again. "Now, you're sure this thing won't hurt her?"

The coach shook his head. "Son, from the war stories I've heard, I'm not sure the surface of a star would hurt her."

Gerald looked around, and everyone nodded. Taking a deep breath, he put his finger on the trigger and fired.

The weapon itself made no sound, only the crack like a bullwhip as the slug of metal struck out of the barrel into the crisp morning air.

Faster than thought, Trahzi turned around and held out her hand. The bullet struck an invisible wall, which rippled in a rainbow of colors, absorbing all the energy until there was none left, and the round fell inertly to the ground.

Several of the students gasped at the display.

Trahzi disappeared in a flash of flame, then reappeared alongside him.

"That," she emphasized, "is why we are worthy to exist. We are Trahzi. We do not know pain, we do not know fear. You are human, what can you do?"

Gerald swallowed hard. "I can make bubbles with my spit."

Cha'Rolette put her face in the palm of her hand.

Trahzi stepped closer. "Do you see now how weak you really are? Do you see how hopelessly, completely, hilariously outmatched you are?"

"Vividly."

Trahzi licked her black lips with a black tongue. "If it was up to us we would cull your life at this very moment. Cut you out like a cancer."

"Well then, I suppose I am very glad that it is not up to you."

Trahzi sneered, steam coming out of her nostrils. "Coach, all of this frustration is causing us to lose control of our temper a little..."

"This is a little?"

"We request permission to go relax inside the academy reactor and skip the rest of today's lesson."

Coach Bar-gheiis wiped the sweat off of his brow. "Trahzi, as far as I'm concerned you can skip the rest of this quadmester."

As she walked away, Gerald noticed that the other students were glaring at her with the same sort of utter contempt they normally reserved only for him.

"Cursed demon," Tomar whispered to himself.

Occonflen saddled up alongside Gerald as she reapplied her lip gloss.

"Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"Of what?"

"Everyone hating you all the time?"

"Well, it's not like I prefer it. But, you do get used to it after a while."

There was a faint little snap. "Oh, my mirror cracked." She shook her head and applied more rouge. "I don't think I could ever get used to that."

Gerald looked at her sadly. "You'd be amazed what you can live with."