The King is Dead
Robert L. King
The gas cloud settled around the King. His advisers had told him it would be deadly should he be caught in one of them. He thought he knew better. Breathing in the fluffy wisps, he could feel the clouds' power taking hold.
Deadly, he thought. I've been hurt worse crossing the avenue.
His thoughts seemed to be growing sluggish. Movement slowing and though not yet painful, it was becoming difficult.
Traveling slowly, he made his way across the golden surface of his kingdom. The day stretched out before him as he traveled. His body knowing that which his mind had yet to accept. He was dying.
"Loyal subjects" The King said. "I have grave news to bring you."
Waiting for his coughing to subside and the murmur of those gathered to lessen, the King thought over the things he was about to say. He knew this day would come. His father and his father's father before him had fallen in the war. A war that had raged for millennia.
"I have called you together," He began, casting his gaze over the crowd, "because you must be told the truth."
A hum grew within the assembly. Some voices praising their king of many years, others sharing whispered assurances that all was well.
"Please" He said, "There is little time."
Another fit of coughing racked the kings' body. He was only thirty years old but the effects of the cloud were making him feel as though he were three hundred. Hold on, he thought. Just keep it together long enough to tell them. His head was swimming. The medical service had done all they could. They had given him the code to fight off most threats. Sadly, this one was new. His children might have a chance, if he could only finish this final act as King.
"As you know, our nation has stood against many threats. We have weathered the worst nature has thrown at us for millions of years. Many have gone to their deaths that you and I might carry on."
He could feel himself weakening. Breath coming slow and painful.
"I have come before you today to warn you. No, to beg you take care. A new threat has come to our nation."
The vice counsel stepped forward. His arms waving madly at the crowd.
"Please, please..." He said. "The King has much to say. Hear him out."
Looking from the vice counsel to the crowd, the King sighed. He remembered a gathering much like this one.
On that day, his father had called the nation together. He had begun a speech much like that he was attempting to make. Would he finish his, or die before he could tell them the things only the nobility knew.
"Dear friends" He said, pausing as the gathering stilled.
"Dear friends, today, I will die. The enemy has made a new attack upon us. Our science was not prepared for this attack. Many will perish before we can find the antidote for this new weapon."
Shouts rose from deep within the crowd. Each member pushing the other forward. Closer to the dais.
"Is this a joke." They said.
"I must tell you about our world. You have seen so little of it and yet believe you know its boundaries." He said as loudly as his useless lungs would allow.
As he spoke, a low rumbling came from the ground. Shadows stretched and faded with the growing darkness.
The crowd grew louder, no longer listening to their King.
"Our people build new cities every day and yet, never come close to grasping the whole of this world. All around us, the enemy lives. He is seen as many things. And yet none know the full extent of his murderous biology.
In times past, our people crossed vast waters, taking new lands at a whim. But we do not take the land, dear friends, it is the enemies. He builds on the land. We build on what he builds. We harvest foods from his table.
His waste is our sustenance."
The crowd surged forward. In the growing darkness they wanted to see their King.
The rumbling increased, renewing the crowds agitation. Soon they would bolt. They had to know. The King knew he must tell them. Time growing short.
"We are pests!" He managed before the sky fell. The crowd ran shrieking from the scene. No-one knowing what to do or where to go.
Charlie Martin sat on the gold carpet watching the tiny creatures scurry about. He was on patrol. The new spray hadn't worked as he'd expected. It should have killed the little suckers, instead it had merely slowed them down.
Oh well, he thought, time for plan B.
"Wow, he was a big one." Charlie said.
Charlie's wife looked disgustedly at the mess oozing between the mesh on the fly-swatter. She hated bugs.
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