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Chapter One
Posted by
jlk
,
30 September 2012
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Let us say there are three people …
If you kill one person to save another, have you really saved a life? Where there were once three, there are now two. Whether the two is a good or bad mix, the number is the same. Two.
And now that one of those remaining two has killed, shouldn’t the remaining one who didn’t kill take the life of the killer? Since the whole idea is to get rid of the initial person planning to kill.
One would assume.
By simple deduction the last person standing would have killed also.
Now. Let us say that we have ten thousand people. One person is chosen to be sacrificed, shall we say to an invading alien force? That one person’s death will show the aliens that the people of this planet are ruthless enough, strong enough, to defeat them. So the aliens will leave the world in peace.
Yet, that one person is dead. There is a loss. Surely it was worth it.
Wasn’t it?
And my last example for you to ponder …
Your God tells you that a child will grow up to kill one million souls.
Your God is real. Of this you cannot doubt. We are not discussing religion, after all.
Do you kill the child to save those souls? Or do you lock that child away, imprison him or her, to save all those Your God also created.
If you chose this latter option, and the child escapes his prison and kills those million souls, is he really a killer?
Or are you the killer of one million souls by not acting upon your knowledge, given to you by this deity.
Now, my students. Think, and think hard. Who are we to take a life?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Eve jerked herself out of the nightmare. Eyes wide, breathing torn, wet with sweat, she shook from head to toe. Her body was freezing cold, the internal ability to maintain body heat shut off during these times. She’d never found anything in her studies of others who suffered such as she any kind of explanation for this basic body function failure.
Roarke’s voice soothed her. His arms held her, offered comfort. He bundled a blanket around her.
“It’s not about my past, Roarke. Leave me be.” She unwrapped the blanket, his arms, left their bed to go to her closet for a robe. Ignoring him, she left, walking through the halls of the mansion she called home. There were enough that she could spend what was left of night to pace them and never need to repeat a step.
With the dawn, she stood on the roof, staring sightlessly at a table made of stone.
“Eve.”
She looked at him, thought she had not even sensed his presence. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to.
He came to her, placed those clever hands around her face so he could look into her eyes. Holding her, he knelt, caging her between his body and the chair where she had abruptly sat when he said her name. “Tell me.”
Eve had thought of how to tell him. A thousand ways had twisted in her head while she tread the lush carpet in bare feet. In the end, no one way was better or worse. The rising sun let her see his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had first caught her attention so long ago. And yet, not long enough. They were filled with worry, love … intelligence, humor, darker knowledge that no matter how it drew her, made Eve live in fear. Because she could see into those eyes what he was capable of doing. Of being.
And it was no different than her.
“I saw you kill someone, Roarke. I let you kill him.” And the pain finally expanded to unbearable proportions. Eve threw herself into his arms and sobbed helplessly.
She couldn’t stop crying. Finally, Roarke opted for the tranquilizer Summerset recommended, using a pressure syringe since everything he had gotten down her in liquid and pill form immediately came up during this long dawn. She didn’t even protest, holding out her arm to him as involuntary jerks shook her body. Once done, he held her, waiting for its effects to stop the agony she suffered. Eyes black with emotion, Eve looked up at him, her labored breathing easing, the spasms fading.
“Sleep, aghra. I’ll stay with you,” Roarke promised, stroking the sweat-soaked hair from where it clung around her face. “I’ll keep you safe, my Eve. Sleep now.” He watched her eyes lose that fearful wildness, begin to glaze as the drug took over her system. “I love you, Eve.”
She reached up, touched his face with a hand that finally no longer shook as if palsied. Her pupils were huge, seeming to hold secrets of more than human tragedy. “My soul for yours, Roarke. Both tarnished and blackened, aren’t they? But I think he’ll accept the sacrifice.” And she slept.
Shaken, he rocked her. Whatever demon had entered her dreams to create this torture, she was wrong to believe she would be the sacrifice. Not for him. Never for him. Not as long as there was essence in his body.
+++++++++++++++++++
If you kill one person to save another, have you really saved a life? Where there were once three, there are now two. Whether the two is a good or bad mix, the number is the same. Two.
And now that one of those remaining two has killed, shouldn’t the remaining one who didn’t kill take the life of the killer? Since the whole idea is to get rid of the initial person planning to kill.
One would assume.
By simple deduction the last person standing would have killed also.
Now. Let us say that we have ten thousand people. One person is chosen to be sacrificed, shall we say to an invading alien force? That one person’s death will show the aliens that the people of this planet are ruthless enough, strong enough, to defeat them. So the aliens will leave the world in peace.
Yet, that one person is dead. There is a loss. Surely it was worth it.
Wasn’t it?
And my last example for you to ponder …
Your God tells you that a child will grow up to kill one million souls.
Your God is real. Of this you cannot doubt. We are not discussing religion, after all.
Do you kill the child to save those souls? Or do you lock that child away, imprison him or her, to save all those Your God also created.
If you chose this latter option, and the child escapes his prison and kills those million souls, is he really a killer?
Or are you the killer of one million souls by not acting upon your knowledge, given to you by this deity.
Now, my students. Think, and think hard. Who are we to take a life?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Eve jerked herself out of the nightmare. Eyes wide, breathing torn, wet with sweat, she shook from head to toe. Her body was freezing cold, the internal ability to maintain body heat shut off during these times. She’d never found anything in her studies of others who suffered such as she any kind of explanation for this basic body function failure.
Roarke’s voice soothed her. His arms held her, offered comfort. He bundled a blanket around her.
“It’s not about my past, Roarke. Leave me be.” She unwrapped the blanket, his arms, left their bed to go to her closet for a robe. Ignoring him, she left, walking through the halls of the mansion she called home. There were enough that she could spend what was left of night to pace them and never need to repeat a step.
With the dawn, she stood on the roof, staring sightlessly at a table made of stone.
“Eve.”
She looked at him, thought she had not even sensed his presence. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to.
He came to her, placed those clever hands around her face so he could look into her eyes. Holding her, he knelt, caging her between his body and the chair where she had abruptly sat when he said her name. “Tell me.”
Eve had thought of how to tell him. A thousand ways had twisted in her head while she tread the lush carpet in bare feet. In the end, no one way was better or worse. The rising sun let her see his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had first caught her attention so long ago. And yet, not long enough. They were filled with worry, love … intelligence, humor, darker knowledge that no matter how it drew her, made Eve live in fear. Because she could see into those eyes what he was capable of doing. Of being.
And it was no different than her.
“I saw you kill someone, Roarke. I let you kill him.” And the pain finally expanded to unbearable proportions. Eve threw herself into his arms and sobbed helplessly.
She couldn’t stop crying. Finally, Roarke opted for the tranquilizer Summerset recommended, using a pressure syringe since everything he had gotten down her in liquid and pill form immediately came up during this long dawn. She didn’t even protest, holding out her arm to him as involuntary jerks shook her body. Once done, he held her, waiting for its effects to stop the agony she suffered. Eyes black with emotion, Eve looked up at him, her labored breathing easing, the spasms fading.
“Sleep, aghra. I’ll stay with you,” Roarke promised, stroking the sweat-soaked hair from where it clung around her face. “I’ll keep you safe, my Eve. Sleep now.” He watched her eyes lose that fearful wildness, begin to glaze as the drug took over her system. “I love you, Eve.”
She reached up, touched his face with a hand that finally no longer shook as if palsied. Her pupils were huge, seeming to hold secrets of more than human tragedy. “My soul for yours, Roarke. Both tarnished and blackened, aren’t they? But I think he’ll accept the sacrifice.” And she slept.
Shaken, he rocked her. Whatever demon had entered her dreams to create this torture, she was wrong to believe she would be the sacrifice. Not for him. Never for him. Not as long as there was essence in his body.
+++++++++++++++++++
