Admission

I never thought about it. We were doing the right thing. We were changing the world for the better. Harmless was a killer, a madman! He had to be shut down. Boss had it all figured out. We had no clue. It sounded right.

You look at a world of abundance and harmony. How can that be wrong? Maintain the peace. One man's life for maintaining the peace. I offered to do it myself. That bag of bones and dirty tricks. No match. One man's life for the world. Part of me still thinks it makes sense.

Boss wasn't right in the head, though. The chips might have done it. Maybe he was always like that. Once he had the taste and gave everyone what they wanted, he took what HE wanted from them. From all of us.

I would have killed Old Bones too, if the othet two hadn't popped up. Life is funny. My biggest mistake was twarted by two vengeful criminals who wanted to kill the same man I wanted to kill.

Description of the Events at the Ice Factory, from I Am Kosmos, the autobiography.


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Schemes

The Ice Factory had been abandoned for years. Kid Kosmos scanned with his infra-reds for hot spots. The third floor was an expansive loft formerly used for storage of sheets of thick ice. The caltrops hung from the ceiling.

Three signals registered. Two on the floor and one hanging upside-down from an I beam. He modified his plan. Watch and wait. The signal from the rafter dropped behind the two on the floor. A flood light eradicated the darkness. Kosmos ducked behind a cooling unit and saw Harmless whip his leg into the back of Tinman. Pig Fink rolled to the ground and drew his nine millimeter. Harmless leapt up and grabbed a caltrop, swinging back up into the rafters. Shots fired.

Tinman struggled to his feet and looked up. Gone was the gold and white caped garb of the new Harmless. All black, ragged and dirt covered, his skull mask back on his face, he dove straight down on him feet first. Tinman’s neck snapped.

Pig Fink stood up and braced to shoot. Harmless’ leg arched up high as he sprung straight toward Fink. A bullet caught him square in the chest. He managed to bring his leg down on Fink’s wrist. The gun whirled in Kosmos’ direction. The Kid caught it like a short stop chasing a line drive. He had the gun trained on Fink. Harmless lay motionless.

“Didn’t I already arrest you once, Pig?” he said. The Pig Fink Lazily turned around, laughing.

“Breaking the deal,” he said, “Predictable.” He walked to harmless and kicked his prone body. “The whole place is wired to blow up if my heart stops,” he said, reaching into his pocket,” Or, if I press this button.” He showed a small remote device.

“How about you put that down and walk out now,” Kosmos said, “Before I break your arm and haul you out of here.”

“Catch,” Fink said and tossed it to him. Instinctively, Kosmos caught it. The intense electrical shock from the device floored him. He could still see and hear. He could not move. A fat face glared down at him. “I break deals too. Only I’m going to kill you.” He took out a straight razor and slashed across Kid Kosmos’ face. “But first, I want you to have a little makeover.” He chopped off the three first fingers of Kosmos’ left hand.

Screaming. Kid Kosmos screamed. Another swipe cut off his nose. Another ruined his eye.

“You’re so pretty, so pretty,” Pig Fink whispered. The slashing stopped. Finks body disappeared. Kid Kosmos passed out.


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Antichrist

Some men make deals with the devil. Some have no choice. Satan claims them even through their best intentions. Boss hadn’t heard from Kosmos, Fink, Mercy or even Guise. He did see Harmless on the news. The news fed directly into his brain. The cameras at the Ice Factory showed him everything up until Harmless crept behind Fink. Someone cut the signal before he saw the endgame.
There was no need to guess. Everyone he’d sent died. He knew it. Now, the time had come to bring a world to bear upon one man. Boss could not turn back. Peace must be preserved. Anyone who helped The Helpless Man would suffer. Helpless. Helpless.

People cut RFID chips out of their necks. Rouge surgeons were removing chips from his agents. Helpless was organizing against him. Every bit of propaganda against this man was quickly debunked and replaced with his Helpless Message. A book. It was a book he used. In the age of instant communication Helpless fought with the printed word. The Ancient Printed Word of a Dictator God who did not provide an ounce of peace or prosperity. God made men suffer. The Boss made human life a joy. Why was a book about serving a terrible master, a practical fiction of a mythical mountain god of the Hebrews making sane people turn away from peace, joy and prosperity?

It would end. He would force them to choose. Live in suffering and wait to be exterminated, or make the sensible choice and choose beauty and security. No. Not exterminated. Enslaved. Death would only free them and make martyrs. Show them stripped and remorseful and forced to be productive. Force them to ensure peace and prosperity. Make everyone see that this was the only way.

With a thought, he reorganized his forces to hunt these cave dwelling miscreants and bring them to Jerusalem. Id the wanted God so badly, let them have a glimpse of him. The true God, buried for eons in the sands of Mesopotamia. His final secret would then be revealed and they would understand and repent. He’d show them the guardian of Eden.

Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Seventeen