The flags swayed in the breeze, the breeze that ruffled the close-cropped grey hair of the riflemen and the black of the prisoner.
“For the deliberate and knowing crimes of murder, conspiracy to overthrow state governments, intentional spread of pollution -”
The black-haired woman nodded. “Correct,” she murmured.
“- treason to Tapa, treason to Met, treason to Calado -”
(The purple roots of her hair were showing.)
“- terrorism, arson, attempts to interfere with an electoral progress by illegal means, incitement to murder, incitement to treason, incitement to terrorism, incitement to arson -”
“Some of those events occurred.” Her voice was quiet, amused. “A few I was even involved with.”
“ - population control evasion, theft, illegal immigration, tax evasion, caste fraud -”
“That’s covered by tax evasion.”
“- incitement to plagiarism, incitement to theft, incitement to caste fraud -”
She grinned.
“- and various misdemeanors too great in number to summarize here, you are sentenced to death. Do you have any last words?”
“There are ten thousand who can all that I have done, and a hundred who will.”
And the rifles snapped up and fired, and the first supervillain born on Amenta died as swiftly as she had lived.