Lili G Must Die

THE LOGIC OF ELIMINATION

Azael, tell me of your plans for the girl.

The soft, feminine voice came to Azael as if it were an echo through a pane of glass—muffled, yet persistent as it faded off into the darkness. He had been sitting for hours in meditative bliss, keeping all thoughts out of his head for as long as possible. Having not slept in millennia, it was the only way he could rest his mind. It was, in a manner of speaking, a form of therapy that staved off impending insanity.

Anaita, not yet, he thought as his consciousness emerged from the depths of nothingness.

The girl. How he admired her, but he could not tell this to Anaita. And even though he had initially been non-committal regarding the creation of the human species, he came to admire them as well. They could sleep. Each had a beginning and an end. Their tragically short lives seemed romantic to him. He respected their constant struggle, how they invented languages so they could pass their knowledge on to future generations, and how they had accomplished so much while possessing so little in comparison to his kind.

But most of all they could dream, too.

Azael wished he could dream, but for him it was impossible. It was part of his punishment, along with eternal banishment for failing to take a side during a conflict: a battle that fractured the heavens and caused a rift among the most powerful beings in the universe.

His species, the Prīmulī, were tasked with the creation of humanity, but were required to use their own DNA to do so. Many of his brethren rebelled, not willing to bring a new life form into the universe that would one day potentially challenge their reign. As a result of their actions, these insurgents were expelled from their plane of existence, and were stripped of the vast majority of their abilities. There were also those who had no opinion either way. Azael was one such individual, and he was punished just as harshly as those before him.

However, the life of a fallen angel wasn't without its benefits.

On a whim, he could take on the appearance of virtually any creature or being in the universe. He could travel to any place, in any time period he desired. He could also easily take lives, although it was not his nature to do so. He even retained mastery over the oldest technology in the universe, enabling him to transmute matter as easily as a potter molds clay.

But sadly, he had never been able to go home—until now. All he had to do was complete one simple task. If successful, Azael would be welcomed back into the fold: he would finally return to the light.

He just needed to keep from getting himself killed by one of his kind before his mission was complete.

Azael, the voice again whispered, what are your plans for the girl?

Sighing, he opened his eyes and stood up from his lotus position at the edge of a collecting pond, digging his bare toes deep into the soft, purple grass beneath his feet. The cold, damp soil felt good. It grounded him, bringing him fully back to his physical state. Donning a long, hooded robe, he looked to his front where he saw a crystalline, three-kilometer-high waterfall, surrounded by lush jungle and an ancient, Romanesque temple. If any human saw where he was it could be believed it was the Garden of Eden.

But this wasn't the fabled garden.

It wasn't even close.

The hour of reckoning had arrived. Azael had been given months to create a plan of action. It was, however, a miniscule amount of time to someone his age. Still, he needed an answer.

Turning away from the beautiful scenery, he asked, Mistress Anaita?

Five syllables of desperation: he had no other words as he stared into her beautiful, multicolored eyes; one green, with the other blue, framed by a lush, blonde mane that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. But her eyes showed annoyed impatience as they locked onto his.

We must address this situation before the girl reaches maturity, and is thus beyond our power.

Azael took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before responding. Yes, I understand. He craned his bald head back and looked at the indigo sky above, peering through a dark expanse littered with colorful planets and spiral galaxies. Even after such a long existence, he still found the universe to be a beautiful place. Lowering his eyes back down to terra firma, he turned to her, again meeting her gaze. Her eyes blazed with expectation; they briefly flashed a color not visible to most sentient species. But Azael could see it, and it conveyed a building intolerance to his delays.

Azael? Have you lost your tongue?

Then it came to him. He had a plan. It was something he had recently considered, but had found it unpalatable due to a certain genetic anomaly involved.

I have located the perfect proxy assassin.

Her right eyebrow shot up; her interest was piqued. How so? What makes it perfect?

He smoothly returned his gaze back out over the water, going forth with what he felt was his only current chance at avoiding certain death. This individual is wealthy, and not as smart as he believes. His arrogance makes him easy to manipulate.

Anaita let out a soft coo, obviously pleased with the turn of events. Please tell me the creature is a ghoul. The corners of her mouth curled slightly and bestowed a menacing look to her otherwise beautiful face.

"Yes, he is, Mistress, but he is of the Nefanda."

Then offer him enhancement. Give him the gift of blood.

Azael tried to hide his trepidation. If implemented, her command would not be a good thing. Centuries earlier, his brethren found it necessary to cull the overabundance of that specific experiment, made all the more difficult when a select few ghouls had devolved back to their original form; one not suffering the limitations of the ultraviolet range in the electromagnetic spectrum, nor a decreased lifespan. "Mistress, while this would make him a willing ally, it could set off a chain reaction. We both know the thirst will cause him to replicate his kind. They would soon become unmanageable, especially as enhancement would create a Morticinus. He and his progeny would be virtually immortal."

That is of no consequence. Their world is doomed, anyway.

Turning back, Azael studied Anaita's perfect, alabaster complexion. Allowing her to see him admire her beauty on purpose, just to feed her already massive ego, he decided to probe a bit.

Mistress, might I ask a question?

Certainly.

Why do you hate them so? The humans?

Anaita returned a curious gaze and cocked her head to the side, as if she were trying to understand his question. I do not hate them, Azael. Hate is an emotion.

But mistress, you are the one who created the genetic mapping sequence. It was your idea to enhance them in the first place.

And Michael took my plan as his own. He was always the favored one in our family.

Then, if you have no emotional investment, what is the purpose in destroying them all?

The existence of those inbred monkeys is what keeps our family apart. With the elimination of Homo Sapiens comes the reunification of the Prīmulī. We shall return to our home, and I will be back at my brother's side. Anaita gained a loving, yet disturbingly vacant gaze as she turned toward the waterfall.

But to kill a child? She is not even like them. She is one of our kind.

No. The Gunnarsson girl is a disgusting hybrid, nothing more than a putrid little mongrel. Anaita lost her enthralled look and turned back toward Azael, gaining a sardonic sneer. They were never allowed before, and they should not be allowed now. I am merely following the laws set down in the beginning of time.

Still, Mistress, she has our blood. Perhaps… you could go to your brother and negotiate a settlement—

That will solve nothing. Michael is the one who protects the girl, and he is more powerful than both of us combined. His love for that wretched subspecies knows no bounds. He has even taken a human dog as his wife; another violation of our ethics.

I am certain he would be willing to reason with you.

"No, he will not, and they die. They all die: the ghouls, the dogs, those infernal, idiotic nekos, the tall ones and the short ones—all of them. When finished, our species shall again be reunited. Pure. There will be neither the time nor the desire to recreate Homo Sapiens, and Michael will have no choice but to accept the outcome of events. We shall simply start anew." Her eyes flashed with unsettling resolve.

Azael slowly lowered his head in deference to her plan. At what cost did I agree to do this?

Go now, she said. It has been much too long since I gazed upon the eternal majesty of our home. Anaita then put a delicate hand on his burly shoulder. Be happy, Azael. Soon all will be as it should. Looking away, she smiled, her multicolored eyes glowing in the sparse light of the temple in which they stood.

He had no other recourse. The plan had been set in motion, and he needed to return to his home. And there was only one way to get there.

Backing up and thrusting his obsidian arms outward, Azael produced a massive span of black, feathered wings, each one spreading out two meters from his back on either side. Crouching toward the ground, more for effect than necessity, he burst up and shot off into the sky, where he was swallowed by a howling vortex of twisted stars, departing in a manner accessible only to angels and the gods of men.

CHAPTER TWO

GOSSIP

Córdoba, Nueva Argentina, Azul System, August 29, 2821 CE

It was a beautiful day at summer's end in Cabrera Park, located on the outer edge of the western suburbs of Córdoba. Flowers and trees displayed spectacular colors—their final, silent symphony before entering winter's cold and dark embrace. Aside from brilliant greens, intense shades of blue were everywhere; some species of trees, the water and the sky. These alone were very good reasons why this planet, colonized by humans in the twenty-fifth century, had been named Azul, the Castilian Spanish word for the color blue.

In the midst of all this pre-autumn beauty sat three retired ladies on a wooden bench. Dressed in colorful blouses and skirts, they were sipping hot, yerba mate tea from travel cups while they engaged in their favorite daily activity—gossip. And while no one was immune to their prattling, the current objects of their malicious chatter were the people who lived in a tiny and fairly unattractive blue house across the street from the park.

Look at the place. It's a dump, said the lady seated on the left. I tell you, Camila, there's something strange about those immigrants. Between you and me, I think they snuck over here illegally.

Sitting on the far right of the same bench, Camila focused her aged, blue eyes and sent a stinging stare toward the tiny blue home. I don't think so, Mariana. That's too difficult to pull off. I bet they're government agents, sent to spy on us. They probably have a tunnel built under their home. I mean, you rarely ever see them walking outside that hovel they live in, do you? And the child—you'd think she never bathed. It's criminal, really.

True, true. What do you think, Lucinda?

Eh? shouted the woman seated in the middle, suddenly alert and looking around as if she had missed something.

Mariana groaned, looking across at Camila. Lucinda forgot her hearing aid.

What? My bills have been paid!

WHAT! ARE! THE! NEW! NEIGHBORS! Mariana yelled into Lucinda's ear.

Oh... nothing wrong with them, Lucinda said, gaining a blissful smile and looking out onto the park as she had been doing all afternoon.

Camila grabbed Lucinda's paisley-patterned purse, pulled a hearing aid out, and without any warning stuck it into her friend's ear.

Lucinda thrashed her arm out at Camila. "Gah! Boluda! That hurt!"

Mind your tongue, Camila said as she adjusted her dark-brown wig. "You happen to be the jerk, always forgetting your hearing aid, making us repeat things. And now that you've joined the conversation, we were talking about those new invaders that moved in across the way."

Lucinda gave Camila an incredulous glare, and then turned away, watching a boy float by on a tiny grav-sled. I know that. They don't pay their bills.

Mariana dropped her head, exhaling in exasperation.

Lucy, why didn't you ever get a hearing implant mod? Camila asked.

Well, I was going to…

There must be a reason why you didn't, Mariana said.

I took a trip instead. It was beautiful, too. Went up to Luna, Sienna, back here to Azul, over to Oz and then to America.

What? That was over fifty years ago! Camila half-shouted, raising her voice enough to cause more than a few people to look in their direction. What have you been doing with your pension since then?

"I like the casino!" Lucinda sang out, her head bobbling side to side. To the dismay of her two friends, her hearing aid popped out, landing on the bench.

It fell out again, Mariana said with an annoyed grumble.

Camila snickered as she took another sip of her yerba mate. To be honest, it's probably for the best.

I agree. They'll be deported like the rest, Lucinda said with a menacing tone, pointing a finger in the air while squinting her eyes and scanning the horizon.

Maybe she's right, you know. It really is too easy these days to come here, Mariana whispered, and then bent over and picked up Lucinda's hearing aid, which she passed back to her friend.

Thank you, dear, Lucinda said as she put the device back into her ear, now able to hear everything.

Almost everything, that is.

Thanks in part to their conversation, as well as their aging senses, the three ladies failed to detect the presence of a lanky, young, black-haired girl with a freckled nose, sitting on the ground behind their bench. Unlike one of the members of the octogenarian trio, the girl had heard everything, and wasn't pleased with what they were saying.

Miserable old hags…

However, she had a remedy.

Growing a mischievous grin, the girl slid her hand through the slats of the bench and touched Mariana on the hip. A faint, blue glow ran down the girl's arm and disappeared into the elderly woman's skirt.

"Come to think of it, maybe I did see those new people at the immigration office last week," Mariana said with a soft coo, suddenly and inexplicably changing her attitude toward to unfortunate souls that lived in the aforementioned blue house across from the park.

The girl then reached over, touching Camila in much the same manner, producing a similar result as well.

You know, Camila murmured, it's rather silly to assume they're spies or any such thing. What do you think they might be, Lucinda?

Nothing special. They probably desire a bit of privacy is all... like you did when you were sneaking out at night with Rodrigo Velasquez to go and do your—

Camila shot Lucinda a cockeyed glare, wagging a finger in the woman's face. "I'll thank you very much for not discussing that. It was many, many years ago and we have all grown since then."

Lucinda's grown deaf.

I have not, Mariana! And at least I haven't allowed my posterior to grow to ungodly proportions like someone we know. Lucinda harrumphed and folded her arms, returning her attention to the activity in the park.

Quite satisfied with the direction the conversation had taken, and most certainly not wanting to hear any disgusting adult details regarding Camila and someone named Rodrigo Velasquez, the girl stood up, taking care not to disturb a single pebble beneath her feet. She was about to quietly depart, leaving the women with new opinions regarding the unfortunate people who resided in the tiny home on the hill. But then a boy from the nearby playground called out.

Lili, over here—I just saw a dren lizard!

The boy's voice was loud. Very loud.

And the young girl knew she wasn't the only one to hear him.

She turned, not to the playground, but the other way, raising her hand to block the harsh light of her world's twin suns, at the same time meeting the accusatory stares of the three women who had craned their necks around to see where the squelching teenaged voice had come from.

"What are you doing there?" Camila asked, sounding a bit on the defensive.

Mariana scanned the girl up and down, squinting her eyes in profound suspicion. Yes, do tell. Were you listening in on our conversation?

Arrgh. Tommy, I hate you!

The girl closed her green-speckled hazel eyes and wished the women hadn't seen her. But they had, and she knew there was only one way to get out of her current predicament. She sighed and walked around the bench to face the gossipers, but not before displaying a completely inappropriate, single-fingered gesture behind her back, directed at the loudmouthed boy with whom she was very well acquainted—and didn't care for at the moment.

She pulled her black ponytail straight back and adjusted the pink ribbon that kept it in place, more a force of habit than a desire to have her hair combed. She looked raggedy anyway, in high-water denims with worn-out knees, and a sky-blue t-shirt, two sizes too large. Good afternoon, my ladies. Lovely day, is it not?

Lili… that's your name, right? Camila asked.

Yes, ma'am. Lili Gatto. And I must convey my most sincere apologies. It was not my intention to startle you with my presence. I was merely passing by when my friend called out to me.

Mariana tore her contemptuous glare from the blown-out knees in the girl's denims and looked up, her expression relaxing a bit. How long have you been living here, Lili?

We occupied our new home a few weeks ago. It is the modest, blue one across the street. You should come over for a visit sometime. My tía prepares an excellent cup of tea. Lili paused for a moment, looking at the ladies with slightly narrowed eyes. "That would be much better than just talking about us, would you not say?"

Her voice carried a sugarcoated tone of annoyance and impatience. She was sure they knew she had heard much, if not all of their conversation. And while she didn't care what they thought, her family required her to be polite—at least on the surface.

Appearances were very important for Lili's family, and for good reason.

Seemingly unaffected by Lili's sarcastic jab, Camila raised her travel cup to her ancient mouth and took a sip. Perhaps I shall. I do love my tea. Now, what's your aunt's name?

Clarisa, ma'am. Clarisa Gatto.

I never saw her up close, Mariana said. What does she look like?

Lili tried to hide her sneer, but with little success. How could they say such horrid things about Clarisa without ever having seen the woman? She found it totally unconscionable. Still, she played along. She is actually quite—

"Your typical, pretty dega; black hair, dark skin, Lucinda said, cutting in. She also looks to be rather young. Quite lovely she is, yes. Then, curiously, she paused and gave the girl a small grin. But you aren't from here, are you, dear?"

The woman seemed genuinely interested, which struck Lili as odd, given the unkindness she was receiving from Camila and Mariana, thinly disguised by fake, yellow smiles.

No, ma'am. We are from Neu Schweiz. Forgive me… New Switzerland.

"I'm aware of the name, dear. Ich spreche auch Schweizerisch."

Oh… you also speak Swiss. That is nice to know. Lili unconvincingly tried to look impressed with Lucinda's claim.

It has been a while, to be honest. Perhaps you could come to the park on occasion and help me practice a bit?

Lili nodded with plastic enthusiasm. Sure. That would be fine. Might I ask whence you come, ma'am?

Lucinda gave the girl a kind smile and pointed to the sky at the two moons visible during daylight hours. I'm from Sienna, but I moved planet-side when I was much younger.

I understand Sienna is much prettier than Luna, Lili said, acting as if she had never visited the larger of Azul's two moons, which she actually had, and on many occasions at that.

They are both beautiful in unique ways, Lili, Mariana said. Tell me, does your aunt live with you and your parents?

Gods! Will they not stop? I am an orphan. Sadly, my parents died in the war last year, so I now live with my tíos. Lili dropped her gaze to the ground, feigning sadness. She noted that her shoe prints were apparent in the fresh soil, thanks to the rain from the night before. She was lying, anyway. It was required of her. The truth was that her parents were quite alive, and she knew where they were… sort of.

Oh no… I'm so sorry, child, Mariana said.

Camila nodded solemnly. Yes, our condolences. But what about your uncle? What does he do for a living?

Lili looked back up, giving a sudden expression of gleaming pride. Tío is the curator of music and fine arts from ancient Earth at the Córdoba Historical Institute.

Camila seemed slightly taken aback. Really? I would assume someone in that profession would earn a decent living.

Lili grimaced and had to stifle a growl in the back of her throat. This was getting to be a bit much.

Are you already registered for school? Lucinda asked, seeming to redirect the conversation away from Camila's crass comment.

Yes, ma'am.

Camila took a brief look around the substantially populated park. That's right! School is starting soon. At least we'll have some peace and quiet around here. Turning back toward Lili, she bore an assuming smirk. So, which public are you attending?

I am not. Lili again met the three women's curious gazes. I am to attend Saint Mary's Academy.

Camila's face froze. She looked almost disappointed. Nice place that is.

I would agree, Mariana said. But how can you afford such a school, child? It's obvious you are of limited means. She scanned Lili up and down, and then nodded over in the direction of the tiny blue home.

Lili never expected that sort of question. Umm… death benefits?

Yes, of course.

How old are you? Camila asked.

Lili stood up straight and put her hands on her hips. I am twelve.

"Ah, you look older than that. I thought you were at least fifteen, if not older."

I am… tall for my age.

That much was true, but Lili couldn't tell the women why she was tall.

Then, to her relief, all three women then looked at each other, and then broke out into forced smiles and held their hands out to her. It appeared her undesired geriatric interrogation had come to an end.

Such a nice girl, said Mariana. Wouldn't you say so, Camila?

Such a nice child, indeed.

Such phonies!

Lili reached down, taking their hands into hers. She didn't care for their clammy, unsure grips, and to make it worse they smelled old, like linens that had been stored in a footlocker for decades. Their scent disgusted her. But it gave her an idea—a flash of playful brilliance, which she pondered for a moment.

Oh, man… Tía would kill me. Something else…

Then she got another idea. This one was more acceptable, and most probably wouldn't result in her being grounded for the next six months.

I shall accompany my tío for volunteer work at the community center next weekend. Perhaps we can meet there? Anyway, good day, my ladies.

Camila returned an insincere look. Oh, must you go?

I do apologize, but Tía is expecting me, so it is time for me to depart. Please, do not get up on my behalf. You can stay right here and enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

Releasing their hands, Lili thought out her idea:

Incantatio glutinum ad tribunal.

I think I should be getting home, too, Mariana said. She went to get up, but her entire frame stopped with a curious bump. Gaining a confused expression, she tried again, but the only thing that moved was the bench, and only by a millimeter at that.

I can’t move! Camila cried out, looking down to see what could have been holding her in place as Mariana frantically pulled at her own skirt and looked around in continued confusion.

Where did that nice little girl go off to now? Lucinda wondered out loud, staring almost cluelessly out into the blue sky.

Lili's footprints ended a good five meters from where the dirt path met the grass. She was nowhere to be seen.

"You did… what?"

Well? They were gossiping about us, Lili said as she pulled her ponytail back and tightened the pink ribbon around it. She couldn't tell if her tía, Clarisa Gatto, was angry or about to burst out in laughter, anyway.

"And just what were they saying to warrant you gluing their butts to a bench, of all things?"

Casually leaning up against the arm of a large, leather sectional couch in their family room, Lili gave Clarisa a light shrug, knowing a response was required of her. They were asking stupid questions. They would not shut up, and I needed to leave.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, the girl had a secret list of personal improvements. And one of the first items on that list was to keep her mouth shut, and to not share the details of every little thing she did with her elders.

But to stick them to a bench? Lili, that's cruel.

Tía, you should be proud, as I used considerable self-restraint. I seriously considered giving them cases of incurable diarrhea.

Clarisa momentarily looked nauseated. Gods, that's disgusting.

Lili crinkled her mildly sunburnt and freckled nose. At least they did not claim we are lycans, destined to suffer a horrible change on the full moons for all eternity.

Umm… we are, Lili.

"But they would have just been making it up, anyway, Tía. And just so you are aware, the ladies are fine. It was a temporary cantus I devised, allowing me a moment in which I could make my escape from their obnoxious interrogations."

That bad, huh? Clarisa rolled her beautiful, green eyes, which contrasted nicely with her tanned complexion. Lili loved Clarisa's eyes.

Quite so. It was difficult to be in their malodorous presence.

Clarisa tilted her head, curious. Lili, why are you saying they stink? Or is this just another one of your over-the-top exaggerations…

Lili sighed. They smelt of old things… and peanut butter.

Remind me to not make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for you, then.

The girl picked up her apple juice box and took a sip out of its accompanying straw as she looked out through massive, panoramic windows. A giant field of blue-green grass behind her house spread out to the edge of a horizon dotted with pink clouds. The only nearby things she could see were an Azulian Oak tree, along with a lone cow in the distance, chewing on its cud. Behind the cow, twin suns were setting on the horizon. Sol A, the larger of the two, was displaying an incredible, bright pink, while Sol B, half A's size, had a lovely bluish hue that seemed to penetrate Azul's lower atmosphere and spread out over the mountains to the east. The stars were alien to her, but she found them to be beautiful in any case.

While she admired the expansive view, Clarisa took a head of broccoli out of the refrigerator and started to chop it on a cutting board.

Lili tore her gaze away from the beautiful view out back, eyeing the green vegetable, at the same time letting out a light groan. She despised the color, texture, taste and smell. And she knew it was headed for her plate, too, so she smartly decided to redirect the conversation. Pursing her lips, she and made her best pouty face and said, Tía, they also claimed I am a filthy child, and that you should be imprisoned for not requiring me to bathe. Perhaps they felt I smelt of tiny cabbages. I am certain that eating the green food has something to do with it.

To Lili, selective word arrangement wasn't lying. It merely enhanced her ability to convey information in a manner