The BZ-Metru Story Chapter 36

Worry does not mean fear, but readiness for the confrontation.

Bashar al-Assad

Mahalis heard nothing of this. Any gunshot would have seemed normal to him—for merely two miles away a battle of thousands was raging on. The air was filled with continuous explosions and gunfire. It would be impossible to distinguish Dimensioneer’s shot from any other.

And yet Mahalis knew that the deed had been done. It had been a long time in coming, and the phone call from Dimensioneer had been the warning. Mahalis realized that his role in the plan was over for the time being, and that all there was left to do was wait.

He smiled as he realized this. He was done. He had pulled everything off perfectly, without any flaws for Dimensioneer to blame on him. Surely he would be rewarded to the highest—

“Mahalis.”

He spun around upon hearing the horrifyingly familiar voice and found Bfahome, arm raised and gun aimed.

“Bfahome… what are you—”

Bfahome tilted his head. His eyes portrayed a look of malicious insanity, as though they were attempting to bore into Mahalis’ soul. “I want you to know how it feels. I want you to realize what you have done. I want to end this. That is what I’m doing.”

Mahalis let out a small chuckle as he realized what he was dealing with—Bfahome had obviously been driven mad by war fatigue. He tried seizing control of the situation, creeping slowly toward Bfahome while slowly reach for his gun. “Now now, Bfahome… let’s not get too hasty… I know you’re tired, we all are… but it’ll all be-”

A loud shot filled the air and pain seized Mahalis’ right hand. He sharply clutched at it with his left hand, causing his gun to fall to the ground. Horrified, he looked up at his attacker.

“Bfahome… why?”

A small smile appeared on Bfahome’s face, one of maniacal triumph. “Because I wanted you to realize how it hurts. How the many thousands of lives you have ordered to die felt. I once believed the same as you. I once possessed the same hatred. But I am sorry. I showed remorse, because I am human. You’re not human. You’re a freak!”

On the word “freak,” without so much as hesitation or warning, Bfahome fired two more shots head on at Mahalis. His former commander crumpled to the ground, dead before he reached it. Shaking, terrified, and yet satisfied, Bfahome threw the gun to the ground. He left BZ-Metru—some say he fled into the Great Desert and went mad—and was never heard from again.

Dimensioneer was getting impatient. He sat in a chair at a computer consol in the server room, drumming his fingers on the desk. In the middle of the room sat the server—towering up to the ceiling of the dome shaped cavern—at which Rama Swarm was typing last minute adjustments.

“It’s done. The whole thing, announcement, Dume and all, is set to go start midnight.”

Dimensioneer glanced down at his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until a prerecorded message of Dimensioneer announcing Ninjo’s death would fill the city. Ten minutes until Dume. Ten minutes until glory. But where the Karzahni was Mahalis?

“I don’t like this, Rama. Delay it. Something has gone wrong.”

“The announcement I can’t delay.”

“I don’t care about the announcement, that’s the least of our worries. Put Dume on standby.”

Rama obediently started typing at the computer again. Several minutes passed, no sounds but for the clicking of computer keys.

“Got it. The timer is off. Just say the word, and it’ll start up.”

Something flashed on the computer screen. Rama smiled. “The announcement.”

A loud buzzing filled the room, as it did the entire city. It was piercing enough that even those soldiers fighting on the border of GD and CoT were forced to halt their assaults in mid-combat—a bizarre sight.

The buzzing turned to words. “GREETINGS, CITIZENS OF BZ-METRU AND THE BIONICLE ZONE REPUBLIC. I AM DIMENSIONEER. LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS. I HAVE KILLED THE LEADER OF THE BZR, NINJO, AND MAHALIS HAS SUED FOR PEACE. THE TWO NATIONS WILL BE JOINED TOGETHER UNDER MY RULE. MAKE AMMENDS WITH YOUR BRETHREN. THE COUNTRY IS WHOLE ONCE MORE. THERE WILL BE NO MORE FIGHTING FOR THE SAKE OF BORDERS. AS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THERE HAS BEEN MUCH INFRASTRUCTURE DAMAGE TO THE COUNTRY. THEREFORE IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING THIS”

“Cut it off!” yelled Dimensioneer.

Rama quickly typed a brief phrase into a code box. The voice was cut off between “ann” and “ouncement.”

“Why’d you do that?”

Dimensioneer slammed his fist down on the desk. “Because… I don’t know when we can run Dume. In case you haven’t realize we’re still short one man. Who’s the officer below him?”

Rama shrugged. “Bfahome, I guess?”

“Call him!”

Rama reached into the pocket of his long, black coat to grab his cellphone—but stopped when he saw something pop up on the computer screen. “Someone’s coming!”

“Don’t shoot, it might be him. Even if it isn’t, don’t do anything unless I tell you,” said Dimensioneer, seeing Rama reach into his coat for a gun. The administrator stood, facing the door of the underground chamber.

Footsteps. Voices. The door unlocked and creaked open to reveal Black Six, Toaraga, and Dimensioneer.

All five men in the room stood dumbfounded, shocked over who they had found.

Black Six was the first to speak. “Dimensioneer? Did you really…”

“Yes, yes, I killed him,” said Dimensioneer, praying that Rama would follow his lead. “The war is over.”

“Did you get Mahalis too?” asked Toaraga. “On our way here we found his body… it looked like he had tried to escape, he was so far away from the battle.”

Dimensioneer struggled to keep his composure. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…” He gulped. “Didn’t you hear the announcement? He sued for peace. Probably some fanatic.”

Black Six shook his head. “We found him before the announcement…” He stopped when he noticed Rama Swarm for the first time. “Dimensioneer… what is he doing here?”

At that moment, Dimensioneer realized that he could no longer keep up the charade. His excuses were flimsy, and Black Six he could tell was beginning to put two and two together.

“I’m sorry I have to do this, Binkmeister. You were a good friend,” he said. He waved his arm. The weapons held by the three men became heavy and fell to the ground, broken. In his long career as Admin he had learned how to harness his Administrative power to extents only imaginable to others.

“But I will have no flaws in my plans.”

In one spontaneous motion he dramatically poised both hands toward Binkmeister, who was thrown back by a jet of eerie blue light. It only took seconds—but even that was long enough for the image of Binkmeister writhing in pain on the floor to forever etch itself into Toaraga and Six’s minds.

“Did you—did you just…” stuttered Toaraga, staring in shock at the body beside him.

“He has been banned from BZ-Metru. He may never set foot inside the city walls again. Do not fear for him. He was always a resourceful man, I’m sure he will find some other country to inhabit. Now as for you two,” said Dimensioneer, noting the fear on each’s expression, “I give to you a choice. It’s an easy choice. Either go back up to the city, or die.”

Rama Swarm cocked his gun, which he had withdrawn from his coat. Six took the only chance he perceived he had—in the same gesture as Dimensioneer had made, he pointed both hands at the other admin. Toaraga cringed, expecting the same blue light.

But nothing happened.

Dimensioneer laughed. Rama Swarm smiled. “Do you really think we would be that unprepared, Six?” said Dimensioneer. “We knew that you two posed a threat to us. It was only him,” he nodded to Binkmeister, “whom we didn’t expect. As of this morning, you were stripped of your administrative power.”

Black Six suddenly felt very small. He looked at Toaraga, whose expression conveyed that he shared Six’s thoughts.

“But… why?” he whispered.

Dimensioneer smiled again. “My dear Six—why in the world should I tell you that? You are trying my patience already. I will give you ten seconds to make your choice. Ten…”

Six looked at Toaraga. He nodded.

“Nine…”

Rama cocked his gun again, smiling.

“Eight…”

Six turned back to Dimensioneer. Perhaps if he attacked one the other would be distracted long enough for Toaraga to act…

“Stop.”

And stop they did. As Bfahome’s had been to Mahalis, this voice was horrifying to hear. But not because it was unexpected. Not because it was hoarse or painful.

But because the person who had just spoken was dead.

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