Tevun-Krus #8 - Dystopian SF

Even Legends Die

“Eat a dick, I’m not telling you shit.” A glance at the weapon the guard held in his hand told her all she needed to know; talking was a mistake, talking back was going to result in her death or at the very least, she was going to be shy a limb or two pretty soon. Of course, she did have one or two tricks up her sleeve.

“You’ve got spunk, girl, I’ll give you that.” He was a man who appeared to be much older than she. The insignia emblazoned upon his uniform told her that he was a veteran of over a dozen wars. To say he had been there and done it all would have been a rather large understatement. She suspected that he even had the T-Shirt, too. “Ain’t gonna’ save you. You’re still gonna’ hang. Only difference is, I might feel a pang of sadness when I hand your arse over to the Executioner.”

“Ain’t gonna’ be the first time I’ve been sent to the Gallows,” she said, smiling. “Check your records.”

With a shrug the guard glanced down at his tablet and scrolled the page across with his index finger. As he did so, two expressions passed across his face. The first was awe, as the girl before him was none other than the notorious outlaw known as Red Amber and despite the fact she had been hanged a grand total of forty times she was still alive and kicking. The second expression was one that accompanied the realisation that even though there was a three hundred and fifty billion credit bounty on Red Amber’s head, said bounty was only payable in the event of her successful execution.

“How do you do it?” he asked. “I mean, there’s no point in me even trying to collect the bounty that’s on your head so maybe in exchange for me letting you go, you can at least tell me how you’ve survived so many hangings.”

Red Amber studied his face. She suspected that he was genuinely interested, and not just so that he could use the information to prevent her survival the next time she was hanged.

“What would you say is the key thing a person must have if they are to be hanged?”

“A neck,” he replied. “Without a neck, there’s nothing for a person to be hanged by; nothing that would kill, anyway.”

“Exactly,” Red Amber replied. “See, I don’t have a neck.”

The guard pointed, wordlessly, at her neck.

“This?” She smiled. “That doesn’t exist, my friend. In fact, I don’t exist, and how can someone who doesn’t exist be hanged?”

“But…”

“I know, I don’t exist and yet you can see me.” Again, she smiled. “I’ve had many names over the years. You probably know me best as Robin Hood. I appear wherever I’m needed, a figure of hope. I give the People something to aspire to, a reason to get up in the morning. With me, comes the promise that no matter how shitty life is, it will always get better so take me to the Gallows, Sir, take me there right now. Hand me over to the Executioner and have me hanged.”

He looked at her, unsure. The Guards had been hunting Red Amber for years, for as long as he could remember, and yet the girl in front of him appeared to be in her late teens at the eldest. Perhaps she was telling the truth, but was it worth the effort?

“You seem to be a good man, Sheriff. You will collect the bounty that sits atop my head, that I promise you.”

“That’s only payable upon your death, and you don’t die.”

“Everyone dies, Sheriff,” she replied with the same, calm smile. “Even legends die but every now and again, we return.”