The Courtship of RD Rivero
Part 4
"What are you doing to me, hombre loco," Spark snarled. She was seated in a chair in a spacious,
elegantly-appointed dining room, positioned in front of a mahogony table laden with rich delicacies from a
thousand continents across all of fanficdom. At the other end of the table, RD Rivero sipped from a bejeweled
goblet and smiled appreciatively.
"Clarified Tygra blood. The Silky-fruit content on this one is especially strong. Try some."
"Go soak your bald head, evil one," Spark retorted. "I should gut you like a fish and bake your entrails into
pies for this!"
He answered in flawless Spanish. "But you will not. Not because it would be uncivilized to eviscerate, to
disembowel, your host, but because of the amulet I placed around your neck as you slept. It imposes a most
potent geas upon the wearer, making it impossible to act on the desire to harm me. No, don't bother trying to
remove it, only I can. But it is interesting that you should express this desire, for that is the reason you
were, shall we say, chosen? Elected? Singled-out?"
"What do you mean?" Spark growled.
RD rose and walked around the table to her, taking a seat directly to her left. Spark glared at the Master of
All Evil, then at the silverware on the table. She willed herself to snatch up the steak knife and plunge it
into Rivero's jugular, but try as she might, the ambition to do so slithered away like a snake from her grasp.
RD smiled at her obvious consternation , then said, "I am looking for a new accomplice, Spark, and the woman
I choose must possess certain qualities, qualities you have in abundance."
Spark looked up in suprise and blinked.
RD sighed. "Not those qualities. I mean potential for evil, the subtle, delicate touch of true wickedness,
and the fortitude to act on the darkest of impulses. Villiany is for neither the faint of heart nor weak of
stomach, and you, my latina sorceress, are neither faint nor weak."
"You are more insane than I thought," Spark retorted. "I am good, RD Rivero, and you cannot seduce me with
your evil ways! Now release me from this spell, so I may make chalupas of you!"
RD smiled happily. "Ah, Sparky, can't you see that your endless threats do not disturb me? Indeed, they are
the reason you are here. Observe." Rivero waved his hand, and from the ceiling descended a large white screen,
settling into place just above the table, facing them. Rivero snapped his fingers, and the room lights dimmed.
Then he clapped his hands twice, and the screen filled with images.
The first sequence made Spark grin in fierce delight. She, Axelle, Kamanchee and Fluffy were fighting for
their lives in a small room crammed with humanoid dogs. Axelle slashed and stabbed with unthinking grace,
moving like a dancer. Fluffy held the curs off with barrages from her pistol. Kamanchee was being beaten to a
pulp. And she, Spark, was--
"Hee hee, lookit him bleed," she chuckled. Then she composed herself and said to RD, "We were fighting the
Puritan's dogs, that was not evil. They deserved what we did to them, and even more what Fuzzy did!"
"Of course they did. And look at your face while you cut that one's throat. I do so love to watch someone
enjoying their work, don't you? There's more," Rivero said conversationally.
Spark looked back at the screen. This time she was talking to a man in a suit who whispered something in her
ear. Her eyes widened, and a moment later, the man went down in a gout of blood as Spark slashed his belly
open with her obsidian knife.
"B-but what he said!" Spark objected.
"Positively!" RD snapped, the very portrait of righteous indignation. "To speak to you in such an uncouth
manner, he deserved to have you stir his innards for a full five minutes while he died!" He gestured towards
the screen, where Spark crouched over her piteously moaning victim, swearing elaborately in spanish while she
ran her scalpel-sharp blade through his intestines repeatedly.
The screen changed again, this time a close-up of a battered and bloody Shakira, swaying weakly on wobbly
knees. The camera drew back to reveal Spark crouching in front of the singer. Then the Azteca shot up in a
powerful uppercut, launching the screaming songstress into the ceiling fans overhead. Shakira rained back down
in a shower of gore and sliced flesh while Spark pumped her fists in triumph, and let loose a cry of victory.
"HA! GOT HER!" Spark yelled, then realized RD was smiling. "Well, she deserved it! They all did! Besides,
these were all Fianna's stories! I am not nearly so violent in person."
"Really? I wonder what could have produced such a foolish notion in the cur's mind?" RD snapped his fingers,
and the scene changed again, this time a pool shower at a magnificent resort. Fianna stepped into view, clad
in swim trunks, a towel draped across his neck.
Suddenly Thunderwolf roared into view, his mace swinging on the suprised cur, crushing half the dog's chest
with a single blow. The lion grabbed Fianna's throat, shoving him back and crushing Lucifer Daimou against the
wall. Red and green blood trailed across the tile as the injured dog's struggles grew weaker.
Spark glared at RD sullenly. "The nincompuppy deserved it too. He is always mean to my Zhyan, just because he
is British."
RD rose from his seat and stood beside the table, looking down on Spark with an air of paternal benevolence.
"Spark, do you know what the secret of true happiness is?"
"Rogaine?" Spark said sarcastically.
"Happiness is found when we are true to our own natures," RD said smoothly. "Take myself, for instance. I am
an evil bad guy, and quite content to be so. I revel in my misdeeds, celebrate my dark triumphs, and
anticipate gleefully every new imagining for the destruction of my enemies."
"What of it?" Spark said. "I am true to myself also. I am happy too."
"Are you? Violence is at your core, Spark, an essential element of your character. Your exploits in TCATGR
are quite legendary. You've made a name for yourself, and appear in fic-after-riff. But there is one thing
holding you back from true greatness, one tiny little word that keeps you from sweeping fame, or should I say,
infamy. A word you've spoken over and over again here today."
"What word is that?" Spark asked, confused.
"'Deserved'," RD replied. "What holds you back is this compulsion, this need, this overbearing puritanical
impulse to deliver violence only on those who have offended you in some way. This demand for justification
limits your opportunities to exercise your skills, and prevents you from building true reknown. It prevents
you from acknowledging the primal urge to kill that so suffuses your being in every other respect."
RD leaned over the table, just inches from Spark's face. "Join me, Spark. Cast aside this foolish notion that
only the wicked deserve punishment. Can't you see that everyone deserves punishment? And with my guidance, my
instruction, I shall lead you out, away from these self-imposed laws that limit you so painfully. From out of
the shadow of justification, you can find true happiness revelling in the evil you so carefully contain and
hide from the world."
Spark blinked again, and opened her mouth to speak, but RD shushed her. "Do not answer just yet," he said.
"Think on what I have told you, take it and search the darkest corners of your heart. I expect you will like
what you find there." With that, RD snapped his fingers once more, and Spark found herself in a beautiful
suite, decorated in the traditional spanish style.
RD's voice hung on the air. "Enjoy your stay. You are not a prisoner, but for your own safety I cannot allow
you to roam. I will stop by to discuss your thoughts, and have your answer in a few days. Good-night."
********
RD glanced at his watch, and saw the time was after midnight. Spark had no way to realize this, having been
drugged for several hours, as the other three candidates currently were. RD, however, was beginning to tire,
and dreams of limitless Tygra death with his new accomplice called him to slumber. Besides, the interviews
were dangerous, even with the amulets, and he would need to be in top form. He fished his comm unit out of his
pocket and was suprised when it chimed in his hand.
Purrsia's face appeared on the screen. "I told the boys to cancel your dinner plans. We've got some uninvited
guests."
RD grinned. "Imagine that. How rude! Er, how many are coming?"
"Looks like everybody you ever pissed off," Purrsia giggled. "I see skats and dogs and archangels."
"Oh my," RD chuckled. "Is that pesky Hani with them?"
"Yep, and so's Axelle. She's not on the monitors, but the way Chanur keeps looking behind him, either she's
there, or he's being stalked by a runaway pom-pom." She looked away a moment, then said, "The guests are doped
up and sleeping like babies. You want me to send the boys to deal with these goofballs?"
Rivero smiled. "No. I'll handle this personally. Perhaps it's time these, ah, how did you put it? These
goofballs learned just who they've been unrespecting for so long."
********
The rescue party strolled boldly up the forest road towards the mighty stronghold of the dreaded Master of
All Evil, RD Rivero. In the lead was Skat, who insisted the position belonged to her by rank. Next came Zhyan,
looking tense. Beside him was a major source of that tension, Fianna, who had been whistling "The Rising of
the Moon" for over an hour now. Ignoring the dog and bringing up the rear was a very nervous Nakur Na Chanur.
"Enemies in front, enemies behind, enemies for allies, going into an enemy stronghold," the Hani complained.
"I gotta be nuts."
"Naw, just paranoid," Fianna quipped. "And just because you're paranoid doesn't mean we aren't after you."
Chanur said something very nasty about mange, and where it should appear, then spun at the sound of a twig
snapping in the forest.
"Relax, Axelle never betrays an ally," Skat called back.
"Once I find Peachy, this alliance is over," Chanur snarled. "Then that sawed-off psycho better just watch
her -- hey, what's that?"
Everyone stopped as, before their eyes, a glimmer of green witchlight began to shine from the road just a few
yards in front of them. The puddle of light rapidly spread to form a pool, three feet across. Out of this
pool, like a ghost rising from it's grave, came RD Rivero. When the Dreaded Master of All Evil floated free of
the light, the circle drained away and disappeared, leaving the dictator standing on solid earth.
"And for most creative use of a plot-hole, the winner is, me," RD said merrily.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH SPEAYAWK?!" everyone yelled at once, bringing an assortment of weapons to bear on
the Hairless One.
RD raised his hands placatingly. "Not a thing, I assure you. The ladies are in excellent health, and I intend
for them to remain so until my decision has been made."
"And what then?!" Chanur yelled.
"And then I'll kill the losers," Rivero replied, just as cheerfully.
"Duh," Skat muttered.
"You're not going to get away with this, RD," Fianna growled, brandishing his axe. "Cough up our friends
before we have to go through you."
"Oh, you're going somewhere alright, my traitorous cur. I hope you've all been doing your homework," RD said,
and raised his hand. Immediately, four columns of green fire erupted around the coalition authors, engulfing
each of them. There were three screams of sudden horror, and one "Aw, hell," from Fianna, and then the light
disappeared. Of the writers, only patches of scorched earth remained.
RD surveyed his handiwork, satisfied, but aware he was not quite finished. He closed his eyes, letting his
mind reach out past the physical confines of his body. "Axeeeeeelle?" he said quietly. "Come out, come out
wherever you are?"
In the woods overlooking the road, Axelle felt the presence of Rivero's mind, like a spider blindly casting
webs in search of prey. Instinctively, the assassin sat down and focused her thoughts on a nearby rock. She
channeled her awareness into the stone, trying to make her mind as still as the rock itself, hoping that her
catnip-fueled psionic ability would be up to the challenge.
Rivero searched, scanning the area, but he could not read the assassin. Her mind appeared to have dropped off
his psionic radar. He considered what he knew of his quarry, and realized what he needed to do. Focusing his
emotions, he emitted a burst of raw terror, projecting it with overwhelming force in all directions.
Axelle, her mind blank, nevertheless detected something she had been trained to identify since childhood - an
enemy's fear. Before she could supress it, her mind reacted, pouncing on the sensation like a cat on a mouse.
RD watched as a flare of green power erupted about five yards west of the road, then disappeared, taking the
assassin with it. Smiling with satisfaction, he opened his plot-hole, stepped into it and disappeared.
TBC