Chapter Thirty-Three: An Example

Jonathan spent a sleepless night in his cell. He feared the nexty day because he did not know what to expect.
In the morning, the guards came and took him down to the landing bay, past the broken elevator and the burned out Angel of Redemption, and into a shuttle. He was shortly joined by the rest of his companions and the Port Orpheus elder known as Lucas - the form that Septimus took when he wanted to speak to the people of the idealist civilisation.
"Why the disguise, Mr. Jones?" Jonathan asked bitterly
"It's really quite simple, Jonathan." Septimus said in the calm friendly tones of Lucas. "It's all about my age. People would never accept that Septimus Jones is still alive, and yet, I need to be in contact with my people."
"What about all of the people who staff this ship?" Jonathan asked. To the last, he was curious.
"Oh, they're selected from the best of the best. The people with the strongest minds are interviewed, and if they pass a number of loyalty test, they next speak to me in this form. If I think they can handle the job, I tell them my true nature and they are taken into my inner circle where there are no secrets. They are essentially the modern Apocalyptists, Mr. Brooke. Now, no more questions. I'm afriad if I talk to you too much, my resolve will break and I will take pity on you."
the shuttle ride down to the surface was a quick one. They landed at the spaceport and were all led outside. Jonathan was once again met with the familiar double red suns of the Port Orpheus system, but the city looked nothign like it had during his previous two visits. There was the smell of burning in the air, and he could see more than one plume of black smoke stretching across the sky like an inky hand foretelling doom. In the ditance he could hear random cries and sporratic bursts of gunfire.
As he marched through the city with a troup of armed guards around him, he was surprised to see so much ruin. There were buildings toppled, ships laying in pieces arcoss entire streets. Bodies could be seen, scattered. All dead, lying in the street like the trash of an oppulent society.
It wasn't long before Jonathan could hear the unmistakable sounds of a large crowd. It was growing ever closer as they marched through the unsafe streets.
At one point, there was a clatter of gunfire, and one of the guards dropped to the ground. Almost immediatly, spetimus took cover with surprising agility for a man of his age. The guards forced the four captives down behind the cover and began searching the surrounding ruins for the origin of the shot.
It did not take them long to find a small cell of idealists hiding in the remains of a nearby building. Jonathan watched as the bullet ridden body of an unarmed man fell from a the third story of the building missing it's wall.
The guards soon returned and continued the escort. It was a slow walk thought a war torn city; neither side had clear controll of the territory.
the trip eventually led them to a sort of parade grounds. Jonathan looked and saw what was in store for him. There were a great many people, non-combatants, he assumed, missing about in the feild. There were armed military men watching over a large group of people sitting with their arms bound behind their backs. The crowd was all looking at a new structure, the likes of which none had ever seen before. Jonathan recognised it instantly.
A gallows.
He turned towards Septimus. "You're going to hang us." He stated.
"That's right." the old man said. "I told you I had to make an example of you. I offerend you all a chance to renounce your ways. You could have joined me and ended this revolution without more bloodshed. You could have had a peacfeul sollution. In the end, however, you chose to stick with your beliefs. I must admit, i find this commendable, if foolish. An example must be made to the people. I saw two ways to stop this revolution. In the first, the leaders, that is you and your companions, Jonathan, would have to revert back to the original ideology. If the people saw that the leaders had changed bake to the true path, then they would follow. The second possability would be to cut off the head of the rebellion. Destroy the leaders and the people would lose faith, they woudl want to stop fighting because they would know that they would be next swinging on the rope. I amit that it's a brutal death, hanging, but it makes for a wonderful example."
Jonathan was mounting the stairs by the time Septimus finished speaking. "The only example you'll make here today, Mr. Jones," Jonathan shouted at the old man "Is that of martyrs. The people will see that we believed so strongly in our cause that we died for it! Today, Mr. Jones, all you are doing is sealing the fate of Idealism, and outdated and quite simply wrong philosophy of the universe. Today, Mr. Jones, will be the greatest victory for the realists. Its will forge their characters and they will fight until they have won!"
"Inspiring words, I'm sure, Mr. Brooke." Septimus replied. "But everything remains to be seen."
The nooses were tightened around the necks of the four companions.
Septimus Jones walked up to a a podium of sorts and spoke to the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Today I, Lucas, the head Elder of Port Orpheus have brought to you an end of the conflict that has cause so many problems in our once beautiful city. The very leaders of the rebel insurgence have been captured. Today, for their crimes in insiting the most terrible war since The Destruction of our homeworld, Earth, they will be given a punishment that only crimes of their nature deserve. They will be executed by the ancient right of hanging. Let this be an example to anyone who believes the the Realist ideal is worth fighting and killing for. In the end, all you are doing is giving up your own life."
Septimus' speech was interrupted by gunfire around the complex. Realists were pushing in, Jonathan could see them. they were making a bold offensive agains a heavily guarded area in an attampt to save their leaders. The glimmer of hope was lost, however, when Septimus turned around and started walking for the staris down. As he passed, he nodded to the executioner. He would not even hive his opponets the dignity of watching them die.
Jonathan looked over at Marcelle. "I love you," he said to her.
And then he dropped.

The End