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Two months have passed since the colonists arrived on Tarsus. They had all settled beautifully, all working to sustain life there, either in the fields, either continuing what they used to do before moving there. It was all more peaceful on a colony planet, thought Kodos, away from all the loud and fast paced world out there. Away from death, and war and the empire. The crops have started growing already, and soon the fields will be filled with them, no more need for extra work.
A twelve year old James Kirk was getting used to life on Tarsus as well, despite knowing he wouldn’t be there too long. This, at least, was what his mother had said before taking off. He’d spend a few months here with his aunt and uncle, and before he knows it, Winona and George Kirk would have finished their spaceship assignment and he’ll be back home. It wasn’t too bad there, except for the food. The plant-based diet they were all subjected to for now was as tasteful as death, and James soon stopped eating likes he used to, preferring hunger over that food. And also, nothing ever happened on that planet. Wednesday afternoons he had to look after the neighbors’ four year old, Kevin, but that was pretty much the most eventful thing that happened since they got there.
Five more months passed by, and the work continued delightfully under the governor’s supervision. Kodos had been given the opportunity to govern this colony after he presented the Empire with the hypothesis that a society could thrive under conditions of absolute freedom, guided solely by their own morals, without the need of any punishment, and, most importantly, without needing to rely on the Empire’s wars. He was pretty satisfied with how things were going so far.
He didn’t know what went wrong.
All he knew was that one day the crops had started to look off. Then the fields started dying. At first no one noticed anything, but soon there would not be much left. Kodos looked, with a sigh, out the window, upon the dying fields. His fault or not, he’d have to find a solution for who were now his people.
James stared at his half-full pate and then at his aunt and uncle’s almost empty ones.
“where’s all the food gone?”
“just eat.”
After that he had less and less time, as his aunt kept asking him to look for food that was not covered in mold which would then become their meal. Every time there was less of it, almost everything in sight plagued by whatever curse descended upon them. All the food now was stale and it tasted bad, but James was grateful that it at least existed. The fields were all dead or dying, and the inhabitants were more and more hungry.
Kodos opened the communication channel once again. For the past six days he’d barely turned it off, sending distress calls with increasing despair. Someone had to answer. Soon they’d get help. He sent one more call through the channel.
Another month and the sky was still empty of ships, just as their fields emptied more and more as the colonists dug whatever was left, plants, roots, weeds, leaving the earth barren and deserted. He really hoped help was on the way. He really hoped that they’d come along soon. He could do next to nothing of help while waiting, not with this number of people. If there was only half of the people on the colony, then the he could take care of them so that they’d still be alive when a ship would come to rescue. But there was no chance in doing so with that many people. Not if they had much to wait. But what was there to do? Kill half of these people, give them a swift and merciful way out, or risk the death of everyone, waiting with undying hope for a rescue that might never come? But how could he even begin to consider a mass execution? How would he even choose who lives and who dies?
James’s plate was starting to get so empty that he began to miss the stale taste of food he’d been eating over the past few months. Everyone around him was getting sickly skinny , and there really was nothing to do. The once green surroundings he had almost started to get used to have became gray, gray all around them, the color of hunger.
The color of death.
The first to go had been Kevin’s dad, from next door. The little boy whom he used to babysit ran to him, crying, and James offered a smile and a little of the food he had left for the day.
Not long after that, the instinct of survival prevailed. First it was nothing but distant screaming from the houses around, followed by a morbid realization. The colonists had started eating one another, the strong praying on the weak in the battle against the impending death that will soon come for everyone there. James looked up at his uncle and wondered how long before their house will be subjected to such battle.
One week.
Roger Kirk had grabbed James by the wrist and tried to hold him down, knife in hand, ready to strike. He hesitated, and with a swift motion James freed himself. It was all a blur after that. When the body hit the floor, James took note of the knife that had somehow ended up in his hand and was now stuck in his uncle’s neck. Blood was spreading on the floor, and he took a small step back, not far enough to avoid staining his white socks red.
The governor saw hope no more. There was no good waiting while the colonists all died under his watch. He had to act. He’d choose the weakest, the less likely to survive. The worse half. Then he could at least save those remaining.
Ten hundred colonists were aligned on the empty field, the silence surrounding them serene. Yet James had never felt more afraid. He dropped to the ground, and, through half-closed eyes, saw the light of phasers, then everyone else dropped as well. He crawled under his aunt’s still warm body and waited for what felt like years, praying silently for the last time of his life. Tears warmed his face and he felt like he was drowning in them, but dared not move or breathe or make a sound. Only when it got dark did he get up, walking shakily to the town.
Both his house and Kevin’s were empty and silent, except for… a few quiet sobs? He found Kevin in a cupboard, crying.
“Kevin?”
No answer.
“Kevin,” he repeated, forcing his voice to stop shaking and resemble a happy, reassuring tone, “come with me, let’s go.”
“They took my mommy…”, came the answer
“I know. But please, come with me. Nothing good will happen if we stay here. Come on. Come here”, and he scooped the child in his arms, lifting him up with difficulty. “Do you know if there’s any more food here, Kev?”
“No more food.”
“Okay. That’s okay. How about we find a secret lair where we’ll sleep, how does that sound?”, he tried to make this sound exciting, though he was getting desperate.“We’re gonna have to be very quiet.”
When Kevin woke up, his new protector gave him a plateful of warm food. James knew they had to leave town soon and try to find something better to eat, but they couldn’t let uncle Roger go to waste.
Kevin happily followed James, who got him out of the city. It was too dangerous to stay there, where ten thousand starving people had abandoned their humanity for the sake of their own survival. He carried Kevin a while, but it wasn’t long before he had to put him down.
“I’m tired”, complained the child.
“We’re almost there”, answered James. He was tired too, he was hungry, he was terrified. He had no energy to use the happy voice anymore today. “Just a little more.”
“I’m hungry”, Kevin cried out.
“I’ll get you something soon.” He tried not to snap at him. It was difficult, though. He wouldn’t stop making noises. “Stop complaining.”
He did not stop complaining. On the contrary, he continued until James was sure he’d start crying if he heard one more thing coming from his mouth.
“This is taking forever. Where are we going?”
James clenched his teeth. “To a very fun place.”
Kevin went to sleep soon, after James found a place where they could set their camp. The young child was excited about it the next day, when he was well-rested. He shook James awake.
“I’m hungry.”
James didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t any food. They already ate someone yesterday—a lot happened yesterday, actually. He looked at Kevin. He had to keep him alive, he was his responsibility now. If it weren’t for Kevin, he would have probably given up. But he couldn’t. Food… there had to be something. There had to be.
“Wait here. Before I come back, you have to… you have this game to play. It’s very simple. you see the ground? See how in the dirt there’s these tiny plants? Those little weeds that grow here..”, he demonstrated, digging in the dirt with his nails, showing him the pathetic plants that survived, “you have to pick as many as you can find.” He looked at him, weighting in how appealing the game was. “If you get enough of them, you’ll get a special prize. But you are not allowed to leave here, or you’ll get disqualified.”
“Okay, Jamie”, was the answer. He seemed engaged enough. James left.
He came back to the house. His uncle’s body was still there. good. This would work for now.
Kevin got used to that life really quick. He wasn’t old enough to question most of what was happening, and, as long as James was there, he couldn’t really complain. He got to play all sorts of games, and at night James would tell him stories. It seemed like the fun never ended.
Food was getting harder to acquire, and James didn’t know how much more he could keep this up. At least Kevin was distracted enough not to remember how hungry he was. Every now and then their soup, usually made with wild plants and tree root, had bits of meat in it, but luckily Kevin never asked anything about it. After awhile, it became clear that it wasn’t enough to sustain them. The dead bodies had started to rot. He had to find—or make—fresh ones.
Finding people wasn’t the most difficult part. They were scattered around the planet, or living in the houses. Ten hundred colonists to pick and choose from, (minus those who died since the execution), except that they might attack first. He had to be smart about it. It was better to attack than to be attacked. He started coming for them at night. Or pretending he needed help—that was his favorite. They’d let him come closer, either out of kindness or just to prey on him, and even if they’d suspect an attack, it would be too late at that point. He had gotten good at using his knife, and didn’t hesitate to do so—not like his uncle did. Fear and compassion were luxuries he had outgrown, and he doubted he’d ever get them back.
All of Tarsus now was covered in the rancid smell of rotten flesh. It was possible that even those who were still alive had rotten on the inside, James thought. Except Kevin. He was the only one here whose hands were still clean.
The governor was looking out the window of his manor and eating a last piece of what he supposed could be considered food. Out the window was now a battlefield and a graveyard, all dried blood and rotten corpses. He’d decided too late. He might have done the right thing, but by the time he had done it, there was nothing left to save. All that remained of the once blooming little society that used to live on Tarsus were a few people whose humanity was long gone. Was he a human? Should he have ordered the execution sooner? Now it was obvious that it had been the only way. The only reason why he’d hesitated was because of his humanity. Of what little importance was his humanity now, facing all these deaths. Given the choice again, he would gladly trade it for the lives of the colonists. A leader does whatever necessary to save his people, even giving up his morals. There was no turning back now.
When a ship arrived with help, the passengers found two children chewing on what was most definitely a human bone. They took them aboard, along with the eleven other colonists who made it out alive.
Looking back at the planet from where they were flying away, James wondered what part of himself died during the execution. It was of no importance. He was alive, and he will never hesitate to claw, bite and stab his way up. Fear and compassion were weaknesses he had now given up on. The strongest prays on the weak, and he will never be weak again.