celebration

by fred flynn

a great celebration had been prepared. had in fact, been in preparation for decades. a celebration of the new year - the year 1,000,000. and a celebration of the crowning of the new imperator. the new imperator whom everybody already loved, as their face and hologram and life and loves had been steadily broadcast for years before the coronation, ever since they had been chosen by lottery from the empire’s seven trillion inhabitants. a whole city had been built for the celebration and coronation , and all the inhabitants of the empire transported to it to witness the great events. seventeen days of feasting and dancing and partying had preceded the day, feasting and dancing and partying such as the universe had never known. now all was in readiness. a golden throne had been set up on a great platform at the back of the newly created city. the new imperator, the old retiring imperator, and the archbishop waited in a room behind the throne. a long, wide boulevard stretched out in front of the platform. the boulevard itself was empty and swept clean, but behind barricades on either side, the citizens of the empire waited. the seventeen days of partying had exhausted them and they waited silently, many with tears of joy running down their cheeks. directly in front of the great platform and on each side of it stood serried ranks of detachments of the elite units of the various imperial armies, in their splendid uniforms - red for the avars, blue for the bulgars, green for the partisans, gold for the scythians, white for the amazons, and so forth. a brightly colored battleship from each of the imperial space navies floated overhead. the archbishop appeared on the platform. he approached a small lectern in front of the throne. the archbishop looked out at the massive crowd and the wide, empty boulevard. suddenly a lone figure appeared at the opposite end of the boulevard. a man. a lone man. a man in black. with a pistol strapped to each hip. he began walking up the boulevard, toward the platform and the archbishop. the crowd was silent, stunned… then a cry rang out… * the next day. a gray, overcast day. the same crowd has been assembled along the boulevard. they are silent, even more than yesterday. the imperial regiments are drawn up around the platform as before, but they are all dressed in black. in place of the throne, a gallows has been erected on the platform. the man in black, who had walked up the boulevard the day before, stands on the gallows with his hands tied behind his back. a hooded figure emerges from the room behind the platform. the hooded figure carries a black book. suddenly a murmur is heard from the crowd. another figure has appeared at the other end of the boulevard. it is a little dog. it runs up the center of the boulevard, wagging its tail, and barking… * it was almost closing time at the shelter. the little dog looked up at the man. i think he really likes you, mr perkins. isn’t he a cute little guy? yes, he is. and friendly. yes, he looks friendly. his time is almost up. if you don’t take him tonight, and if nobody else shows up in the next fifteen minutes, we will have to put him to sleep tomorrow… i don’t know. i can’t make up my mind…