The Slave

     Labor had always been extremely brutal on the island located on that accursed mining and refinery planet. But the week before the interstellar cruise-ships arrived, was always the most intense. At such times, the colony's hitherto- silent and deserted wharfs, would suddenly come alive with slave dock-workers lugging cargo off and onto the transports heading inland, like a swarm of ants mindlessly following some irresistibly, instinctive urge.

     But these were not ants, they were humanoids with expressions of intense pain, worry, and anger, etched deeply into their sun-scathed faces. I was one of these who had been given the task of clearing the docks for the cruise ships as scowling, gargantuan, non-human task-masters whipped us into a frenzy of activity, their only concern being avoiding punishment and remaining on schedule.

     Once the docks had been cleared, we were finally allowed to relax. Many of us would sit exhausted at the wharfs while staring numbly at the red giant star that was slowly sinking beneath the edge of the purple, star-lit sea. Others, would stand motionlessly, as if in a trance, longing for their home-worlds, and wondering about families, vaguely recalling the dim memories of a freedom which had gradually become mere fantasies or deceitful dreams.

     Others, who were far too injured to do anything else, just lay bleeding, lacerated backs on the hot, black, volcanic sand, groaning and waiting for the scarlet-skinned wenches with their miraculous salves that would immediately heal wounds and make us physically fit again for another day of labor.

     Our assigned reptilian overlords had meticulously prepared for this momentously-great event. They could be seen with their reptilian faces anxiously scanning the purple-clouded skies for, the sleek silver interstellar cruisers that would bring the proud rulers of galactic provinces, kingdoms, and empires.

     All arriving for one, and one reason only, to drink deeply of the refined immortalizing waters and be repeatedly swathed in the salves which would rejuvenate their bodies for another decade of rule without sickness nor aging.

     In all their mannerisms, they seemed the epitome of presumptuous arrogance. But Unbeknown to them, I had been detecting their growing anxiety as their muscles grew flaccid, their once-youthful, immaculate skin, gradually wrinkling, and their once youthful yet ancient joints, begin to ache, indicating their approaching end and the need for a renewal. .

     I knew that their psychological pain was great, and I very often smiled with satisfaction that these supposed immortals could also suffer as we suffered. That they could worry just others worried about their own mortality.

     Ironically, we slaves were also regularly imbued with an immortality of sorts. Upon our arrival at this prison-labor planet, we had been told why we were being provided with a limited and diluted portion of miraculous salve that would heal our wounds instantly and reinvigorate us for more labor.

     "Slaves sicken and die, and replacement is costly.” the reptilian taskmaster who resembled a biped, and extinct Komodo Dragon, had shouted.

     "What better than immortal slaves who can be rejuvenated with low dosages of the immortalizing fluids? The hundreds of slave maidens themselves who apply the salve absorb the chemicals through their green-palmed hands. " the reptilian had glanced about sneering with sadistic pleasure.

     "So there is no need to replace them as well." it always smilingly gloated, as it repeatedly and vigorously rubbed the black-leathered handle of its electrified whip with its green, scale-covered, reptilian thumb.

     In order to add insult to injury, these females would be sent each day bedecked with colorful vegetation and attired in robes of ivory-white silk, as if participating in some sacred ritual. But the dread in their large blue eyes could not be camouflaged, just as the sadistic smiles of the gargantuan reptilian guards standing by with sonic blasters, and electrified whips at ready, could not.

     But all this would soon end, that, I knew for a certain. As the momentous day began drawing near, I envisioned the sleek, majestic, silver-hulled, interstellar, transport cruisers, majestically emerging as if from from under that distant oceanic horizon. Luxuriously-equipped star-ships transporting the privileged, and cruel human and alien passengers who deeply despised the slightest notion of sentient dignity and who considered the existence of any other rights apart from their own a deadly threat.

     Unlike the slaves, these arrogant rulers would be solemnly exposed to the full strength of the mixture and, after two weeks of rejuvenation treatment, would leave the mining planet totally reinvigorated, each back to his own distant domain to rule plunder maim and murder the helpless subjects as they had been doing for millenia. The slaves of course, would be forced to resume their work of unloading the transports, transferring their precious cargoes inland where the life-giving substance would be prepared for the next application in ten Earth-years hence.

     So it had been for countless centuries, and so they had confidently expected it to continue for eternity, unless, yes, unless I faithfully fulfilled my mission and willed the sinful abomination into an unreality as I had repeatedly done before and had been told to do whenever I ever encountered it again.

     Yes, I, the humble prisoner who had begged for mercy when captured. The seemingly decrepit, and insignificant human found in a wilderness attired in rags and on the verge of starvation and whom they had easily captured, placed in chains, and transported here. Yes me! The entity that had positioned itself in their slave-gathering path on a planet of easy access to their fleet.

     Yes me, the entity who had temporarily assumed a material form after being assigned to this galactic realm by the Most High. “To set it straight!” the Lord had told me. Yes, I, the seemingly powerless humanoid who had allowed myself to be captured so I could personally observe the unbridled iniquity that had taken hold, in order to feel fully justified in doing what needed to be done.

     So on this day of their momentous arrival, I stand feigning to totter with the rest of the helpless prisoners as a whip repeatedly lashes my back because I dare to gaze insolently at one of the alien guards instead of keeping my eyes humbly lowered, as they are constantly demanding.

     Silently, I feign to grimace in pain while biding my time. For once they have arrogantly assembled on that blood-stained shore, in all their regal splendor, confidently contemplating the certainty of a glorious future, and gloating, as if I were of no account, then I will focus, and all of them will instantly vanish along with their armies throughout this galaxy called Andromeda .

     So my Lord God has commanded of me, his eternally-loyal Angel of Death, The Destroyer, who who annihilated the Egyptian firstborn on the night of Passover, and who drowned their pursuing charioteers as I hovered above the surging waters, gazing down intently at them from the thickening roiling cloud, above the Red Sea.