High Noon

  The crowds teeth-clenched, roaring call for blood is sated. Tomorrow at noon, they will have their pound of flesh.

  “I'm going to need five volunteers," Bucket calls out, “Five to volunteer as executioners. You must have shooting experience.” He jumps up on a wooden bench as he addresses the pack of hounds gathered around, “If interested, stop by my room before midnight. You will be assigned a hood and revolver, no one other then myself and some staff will know who you are. Now, disperse this crowd, have faith justice will be sentenced tomorrow.”

  The crowd lets out another boisterous cheer before quieting down, talking among themselves as they disperse. Based on the whispers he hears there is no turning back now; there will be blood if he goes back on his promise. They seem content; for now.

  “I sure hope you know what you're doing, Bucket.” Tales says, “How're you feeling?”

  “Like some asshole fucked me up.” He jumps off the bench, the force of sticking the small landing runs up his spine right into the base of his skull then finishing like an icepick behind his new eye. “Much better though, my head is in rough shape.” Not having figured out how to 'close' his new eye is giving him a headache, it's always sending him some sort of data. He searches his pockets for pain meds.

  She looks at his new eye, still bandaged. Whether it's something she sees, or hears, who knows what people with perfect enhanced DNA can do? “Your eye is bandaged, but you have a new eye under there, don't you?”

  He leans in close to her, “Yes, really high tech, I can see through the bandage. Also my hand is, well, I have one. How are the three men we skinjacked?”

  “I called in a favour, I have the best tech working with them.”

  Emmy approaches in her usual black dress, only her head and hands showing. Bucket blinks, thinking of what lies underneath.

  Arrack... sexy beast! Edgar adds.

  Hey, the bird is right about Angela. Ryan adds.

  Dammit, can you two both stop?? Bucket adds.

  They embrace, he holds her longer than a socially acceptable public hug usually lasts, but she doesn't seem to mind, “I made you something.” She hands him a small black box, bound with a light tan string. He opens it, there is a simple black eyepatch made of the same material as her dress. “I hope it's Ok, I made it this morning.”

  “It's perfect Emmy, thank you.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek, turning his back to the others, he starts slipping on the eyepatch. Emmy moves around in front of him to help. She pauses as she catches a glimpse of his new eye. Gazing into his eyes with a warm smile she straightens the patch then gently places her hand on his cheek for a moment before pulling it away. “Are you free today Emmy?”

  “Yes, I'm off for the rest of the week. Do you need help with anything?”

  “Can you gather some food trays and beverages? Cheese, meats and crackers will do, I'm going to be expecting guests tonight. They need to feel relaxed, they will be volunteering to do a difficult task.”

  “Of course. Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, that will do. Have the vendors bill the Sheriff's office.”

  She nods and heads off, her gaze on him lingers as she walks away. It's barely been a day but he had missed her.

  “Good, yous got things under control, I'm going back to running a business.” Smithy says, as he turns.

  “Wait Smithy...” Bucket says, but he's already walking away towards his tavern.

  “Oh no, I ain't having nothing to do with no execution, that's definitely gavels business.”

  “Well 'ello Sheriff,” a familiar voice says. He turns, it's Pete, the first mate of the SS Dartmouth who he sent to the infirmary after the fight at the Rusted Node. Bucket lets out a deflated sigh.

  “Thanks for the help Pete. Are you and I good?” Bucket asks, not in the mood top deal with him if he says no.

  “Yeah b'y, puder' der',” He holds out his hand, Bucket shakes, Pete has a curious look as he shakes Buckets new hand. “So, we should probably discuss the policing, yeah?”

  “Bucket, he just had a whore in your bed!” Emmy yells the moment Bucket enters the room. “I walked in and they were doing... stuff, under the covers.” Narrowing her eyes at Glitch, “I didn't appreciate walking in on that.”

  “Well I couldn't very well invite her to the floor.” Glitch counters.

  “Fucking hell, no more whores on my bed Glitch.” Standing a few feet in his room he stares at his dishevelled sheets, “Dammit, I can see all the...” He curses his eye, giving him far more forensic detail then he wants to know, “No. More. Whores. And don't you have your own room?”

  “All the gear is here now, this is some expensive tech, I can't leave it unattended.”

  “Just go burn my sheets and flip the mattress.” He orders Glitch.

  Glitch takes the sheets and heads out the door. Sitting on the love seat Emmy joins him. He flicks his lighter with a flare, lighting it in one smooth motion and lights a cigarette, he looks to Emmy, she nods and he lights one for her. “I feel like I gave you a bad habit.”

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  She takes a smooth drag, “Don't think of it that way. I feel as though I have lived too much in a bubble, perhaps expanding out of that is what I need. Do you think we'll get five people?” She asks.

  “Oh we'll get dozens that want to do it. But five that will actually follow through? I don't know. Killing stays with you.” He says, his gaze drifts off. The Specters work catches up to you, so much killing, sure it's vat grown clones, but they're still human, and it still takes it's toll on you.

  “What, oh, never mind. You probably get asked all the time.” She says. He knows what she wants to know though. It's a question all the good people of the world always want to ask those who have taken the life of another.

  “No, it's Ok Emmy. Normally I avoid such conversations, but I owe you my life.” He takes a deep drag and exhales. ”You want to ask me what it's like to kill a man?” She gently nods her head. “There is nothing good about it. Often when it gets to that point it's you or them. You justify it sometimes, but the truth is sometimes it's just been vengeance, for me anyways. When I shot Moon, it was an execution, it wasn't right. Even though if I didn't I would order him to be lined up with the other five tomorrow on the dock.”

  She moves over on the loveseat and puts her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. They sit there, he looks at the black hoods, each with a revolver with a single bullet in it resting on his desk beside a cheese platter and cider. They sit there for a long time, he could sit here for days with her head on his shoulder. There is a click at the door, she stands as Glitch and Tales walk in.

  “You sure you don't want those sheets Bucket? They look brand new, Glitch said they just needed to be washed.” Tales says, holding the bundle of sheets Glitch had left with 20 minutes ago. Glitch looks down, Emmy looks horrified, Bucket just laughs.

  “Nah, I'm good. Glitch screwed a hooker on them half an hour ago and I told him to burn them.” He says, the sound of his own voice causing him to laugh even harder.

  “You fricken arsehole!” She throws the bundle at Glitch, “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “You didn't ask,” Glitch says, trying not to laugh he puts them in the corner of the room.

  “No way, get them out of my room Glitch.” He opens the front door, tossing them in the hallway. “Hell Glitch, people are going to see that when they come to tell me they want to execute a man. Just throw them in a garbage can.” Glitch heads out the door, to dispense of his bundle of shame.

  “Ok. Well it looks like I'm going to spend the night at holding, the prisoners are acting up and the guards are not used to dealing with that. It'll be a long night.” She jams a handful of the food in her mouth and grabs a cup of cider, “Thee ya tomaroo.” She says as she chomps the food, heading out the door.

  It's an hour before the first knock on the door, Emmy answers the door. It's Tracy. “Oh good, Bucket seems fine but could use a look over.” Emmy says.

  “If he needs to, he can go to medbay.” She says, picking up one of the hoods and revolver she turns and leaves.

  The three of them are silent, not sure what to say about the head nurse being an executioner. “Well.” Glitch says, “I didn't expect that.”

  “I didn't either, but I'm also not surprised.” Bucket says.

  The evening drags on, Emmy moving about keeping busy, Glitch and Bucket fine tuning his new eye. A food vendor and two dockworkers stopped by, the last hood rests on the desk. Emmy stands, writing on a pad she tears the paper off and opens Buckets door, pasting the note outside she closes it. She turns to Bucket, picking up the last hood.

  “No.” Bucket says.

  “Yes.” She replies, holding her chin up. “This is my home, all that I have. It needs to be protected, we all need to stand together.”

  He looks up at her standing there. He has the power to not allow her to do this, but he sees a noble strength in her that he can't sweep aside. This will change her, but it's her choice. Since he came back to town she's seemed different, she seems...

  ... more like Angela. Ryan adds.

  Don't start. I agree though. Bucket adds looking at her he shakes his head then looks away.

  The communication post beeps, Bucket walks over to the radio. There is a priority transmission from the Colonel:

  -What the hell are you doing tomorrow at noon???-

  The usual gentle sound of lapping water at the docks echoing off the walls is drowned out by the raucous, bloodthirsty crowd. Bucket doesn't like it; the temporary police force is stretched too thin. 17 armed sailors, plus Tales, Glitch is armed and part of security, and himself. There are almost 4000 citizens out to witness the execution.

  Tales leans over, “Frick, everyone in the Cavern is here.”

  “Yup.” Bucket says. He argued deep into the night with the Colonel, before getting Glitch to shut down all incoming transmissions. “We can't go back, this mob will tear them apart with their hands.”

  The five executioners are huddled together, standing shorter and slender he can easily see which is Emmy.

  The men are being led out from the holding cell, the crowds booing, throwing food at them and rubbish, one of the guards is hit in the temple and bleeding. They get them down to the dock, the prisoners are acting like it's a party.

  “Check the radio Bucket, Command said to free us.” One yells with a grin. They line them up on their knees.

  Bucket can see the time on his new eye's HUD, 11:51. He walks over to the five executioners. “Now there is no shame in backing out now, but if you are going to back out, now is the time.” He looks at one of the dockworkers, he was hesitant last night, he's nervously tapping his hand on his leg. “You going to be Ok?” He can see the whites of his eyes, deep in the black hood as the man nods his head.

  Bucket looks at the prisoners, three look up at him, one is staring off into space muttering prayers, the other is starting to weep. He goes to the first.

  “Any last words?” Bucket asks.

  He holds up his chin, “I did my duty, take the call.”

  Bucket moves to the next, “Please, we didn't even go to court.” The man sobs.

  The next, “I should have taken a chance and drawn on you.” He says with a sneer.

  Bucket kneels down, whispers in his ear, “I agree asshole.” He stands as the man spits on Buckets shoe.

  He moves to the next “This isn't legal, you'll hang for this Bucket.”

  He moves to the last, “We were wrong. There is no excuse for what we did, I accept my fate.” He looks up at Bucket. Looking down at the man, Bucket nods.

  It's 11:58.

  “Executioners, step forward,” All five of them step forward on the white 'X' markes he painted on the dock a few hours ago.

  11:59

  “Take aim,” They all point their revolvers at their charge. There is a commotion coming from the submarine.

  “Stop!” It's the Captain of the boat, pushing through the crowd. “Princess Valerie wishes to speak with you Bucket.” The crowd is already getting rowdy, the mood turning foul fast. The Captain hands Bucket the radio.

  “I have an execution to go ahead with your Royal Highness, what is it?” Bucket says.

  “Can the executioners hear me?” She says.

  “Yes, your Highness.” Bucket replies.

  “This execution is to be stayed, any of you following through with it will be charged with treason and hung.” The crowd explodes, the temporary police force struggle to stop the sheer mass of people from pressing towards the 5 men. The executioners look at each other and place their revolvers on the table. Emmy looks at Bucket and he nods, she puts her revolver down as well.

  “Princess, this is going to cause a riot, you need to change your mind.” Bucket pleads.

  “You should have consulted on this, we can't execute these 5 trained experienced agents.” She replies. “Now you have to deal with maintaining order. There will be no executions today!”

  A voice cries out, “We need to protect our home!”

  A single shot rings out.