For months, Bel-mar toiled from dawn to dusk, overseeing the road improvement project and raising his son. Once the first set of major roads were replaced, more communities poured their time and resources into the project until it snowballed. The project was completed two months ahead of schedule. Everyone felt energized to do more.

The project’s completion was not all positive, however.

“Your highness, now that your grand road improvement project is finished, the delay we agreed to has expired.” Artee shifted to his formal tone. “King Bel-mar, I have been contracted to assassinate you. Prepare to die.”

“Artee, you never fail to steal the joy from momentous occasions.”

“There is an extraordinary coincidence in how often those occasions come at the same time. Perhaps you should start your workday earlier.”

“And let you ruin my lunch too? No thank you. Speaking of thanks, thank you, again, for providing security for the workers. Although the construction phase of the project is complete, I cannot die right now. Tomorrow is the celebratory ride around the district. Hundreds of riders and drivers from all over the colony would be disappointed if I am not there.”

Artee raised his arm and practiced his aim by pointing at the empty teacup on Bel-mar’s desk. “Technically, the ride could go on without you. It could be a memorial ride for their beloved, but sadly departed, king.”

The king chuckled. “Artee, are you developing a sense of humor?”

A sly grin crossed the assassin’s face. “I have been told it is called ‘dry wit’. A form of humor I am finding easy to emulate.”

Bel-mar shook his head. “An assassin with a sense of humor. What is this world coming to?”

“Merely adding to my skill set for blending in.” Artee relaxed his posture and turned his attention back to the king. “I am also looking forward to the ride. I will grant you a one-day delay.”

“Let’s make the most of it.” Bel-mar paused in thought. “After our last ride together, too many months ago to count, I promised to help you tune up your hoverbike to make it faster. I failed to follow through. Meet me at the garage tomorrow morning an hour before the ride starts.”

* * *

After a hurried breakfast with his family, Bel-mar changed into his riding outfit and rushed to the garage. Artee had already disassembled his hoverbike when the king arrived. “Good morning, Artee. We are going to ‘fix’ a design flaw in the intake manifold to increase airflow through the system.” He ran his fingers over the tools neatly arranged on the floor. “Hmm, I am not seeing the tool I need. Let me go get it.”

As Bel-mar strode to the communal tool chest, he passed dozens of bikes and cars, some with hover propulsion like his but most with electric-powered wheels. Royalty and commoners alike from all over the colony had shown up for the celebratory ride.

When he passed one vehicle surrounded by a team of android mechanics, his eyes lingered on one that looked out of place. Something about its appearance looks off. The nagging feeling irritated him as he grabbed the tool he needed from the tool chest and headed back.

I’ve got it! Now it’s obvious why it looks odd.

As a child, Bel-mar had been required to learn the histories of the royal families. The training included recognizing their family crests and the specific shades of colors that make up their liveries. It was a subtle difference, but this android was painted the wrong shade of blue. Must be a recent purchase, but why did they not send it back to have it repainted?

The android was moving toward Artee and his hoverbike. Bel-mar increased his pace to catch up. “Excuse me. Who is your master? They must explain why you are improperly painted.”

The suspicious android broke into a jog when it saw Bel-mar. Blue paint flakes fell off it as it ran.

“Stop him. That android is an imposter,” the king shouted.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The android’s right hand transformed into a sinister looking forked device with crackling electric arcs. The device was aimed at Artee’s thorax; the location of his neurotronic brain.

The king pointed at the android. He screamed a single word so loud that everyone stopped what they were doing. “Kamikaze!”

Every android belonging to the royal estate within earshot responded instantly to converge on the suspicious android at full speed. The closest androids threw themselves at the droid’s legs to slow it down, but it dodged them at the last second.

The other droids are too far away!

Bel-mar dropped the tool he was carrying. With a surge of adrenaline, he sprinted the last few meters to throw himself between the imposter and Artee.

“Look out!” Bel-mar’s flying tackle knocked Artee out of the way. A stabbing pain in his back knocked the wind from him. Something was holding him aloft.

He looked down to see a mottled electric flash emanate from his stomach. A pain more excruciating than anything he’d ever experienced ignited every nerve in his body. The agony was overwhelming. He gasped for breath and choked on the odor of burnt flesh. His mouth filled with the bitter taste of copper.

In the next instant, he tumbled to the floor. The forked device was ripped out of the hole in his back as androids swarmed the imposter. In a flash, the android was forcibly disassembled.

Artee quickly recovered and rushed to provide first aid. As he propped the king up against the Electro-dyne 750 hoverbike he asked, “My back was turned, what happened?”

“I was trying to save you.” Bel-mar pointed at the android’s scattered remains. “From that.” He grunted as he clenched his hands in excruciating pain.

Dozens of androids remained poised over the king and Artee.

“Why are they doing that?” Artee asked while his fingers probed Bel’s wounds.

“I had the technicians secretly embed a subroutine in the programming of all the androids while wiping their memory of your battle with the lion. The codeword ‘kamikaze’ orders them to attack whatever I point at.” Bel grinned. “It was my contingency plan against you.”

Artee paused his attempts at first aid. “If you had a countermeasure against me, why did you use it instead to protect me? Why did you put yourself in harm’s way too?”

Bel-mar grimaced in agony and struggled to speak as latent electrical charges convulsed his body. “I had to do something. It was going to kill you. Why would an android try to kill you?”

Artee rolled Bel-mar onto his side and, using the hole as a starting point, ripped Bel’s shirt into makeshift bandages. The assassin labored to staunch the flow of blood as he spoke. “Contrary to your requests, I have kept Keerat’s family under surveillance. They blame you for all their problems. I have secretly thwarted multiple plans to avenge Keerat.”

“I think they figured out it was you.” Bel-mar tried to laugh but could only groan as another spasm twisted his innards. “Assassinating an assassin must be very expensive. I underestimated their unrelenting determination.”

“So did I. I am sorry for not considering this course of action. I have failed you.”

The king harrumphed. “Failed me? As much as I despised and feared you in the beginning, you have made me a better husband, father and king to my people.” Bel-mar paused to catch his breath before continuing. “I have lived every day of the last two years to the fullest because I worried they might be my last.” He grasped Artee’s hand. “You did not fail me.”

“Then why did you jeopardize everything for me?”

“I saw you in danger and had to act,” the king replied in a tone that conveyed more than words could.

Artee stared down in confusion. “But I am an android. I am your assassin.”

Bel-mar reached up to grasp Artee by the shoulder. “Only for one minute a day. The remainder of the day you are my right hand... and my friend. Please, watch over Rangpu.” He peered into Artee’s eyes with admiration until he lost the strength to keep his eyes open.

Knowing the fight was lost, Artee stopped administering first aid. “I promise to keep him safe.”

With every breath now spraying blood, Bel-mar gasped, “I am prepared to die now.”

His body went limp.

Artee checked for a pulse but could not find one, no matter how many times he tried. The assassination contract, its parameters met, vanished from his memory. A new directive replaced it: return to the Assassin’s Guild for reprogramming and reassignment.

The assassin stared in disbelief at the lifeless body of the king. Although he was unharmed in the attack, he sensed something vital had been ripped out of him. Memories of their time together cascaded through his neural network. For the remainder of his existence, they would make no more memories together.

The crushing realization carved a growing void in him that threatened to swallow him whole. An immutable logical conclusion became an all-consuming process in his brain. Not only would there be no more new memories, but all his memories of the royal family would be erased. He would forget Rangpu and his promise to protect him.

I do not want to forget. I have learned and experienced too much to lose it all. This was not how it was meant to end. He desperately searched for a program or subroutine that would change this situation. There had to be an exception, another loophole he could exploit.

Nothing.

He was at a complete loss for what to do next. His electronic brain was stuck in an infinite loop of despair. If this is what agony and grief felt like, it was a sensation he did not want, for himself or others.

He reached out to touch the once lively face of the man he had been sent to kill. A face that had stopped being a target and had turned into something unexpected. He grappled with an outcome unplanned for in any of the thousands of contingencies in his programming.

“My... friend. I am not prepared for you to die.”