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FROM THE BOOK: The
Beginning It’s
five thousand years since humanity reached the stars and brought with it the
evil that exists in the nature of the species. Man
has explored, colonised and exploited thousands of planets in the Galaxy and
Barbaria was one of them even though it was by accident. A
millennium before the awful events that this chronicle relates, the space ship
DISASTER exploded near the uninhabited planet.
Good fortune allowed some of the crew to survive and reach the surface of
the planet. The
survivors became authentic outer space Robinson Crusoes with only the clothes
they stood up in.
Without computers, ready made utensils or information cubes their
descendants soon forgot the prodigies of technology.
In reality they had never known about them. With
the passage of the centuries, the little human enclave grew until it covered
most of a continent and had developed an oligarchic society with a feudal
structure. The
wide diversity of the ecosystem, deserts to the north and jungle to the south,
encouraged the formation of cities to the north and smaller communities to the
south. For whatever cause, nobody ever knew, they split apart soon after arriving. The blacks stayed in the desert, forming cities and seeking their fortunes in commerce. The whites went south and started to live like peasants…
Barbaria, twenty years before the arrival of Andros V The
Galaxy is shining in the omnipresent sky full of stars and nebulae. It’s
night and the world is submerged in darkness. A
hurricane wind lifts the sands of the desert and hurls them against the walls of
Sodom. Nothing
has changed in the last millennium. From
the Castle, eternal on its seat at the top of the hill, the city seems to be
asleep. Inside
the walls, the glimmer of the fires evokes shadows of the past and ghosts from
distant universes. Outside,
beyond the wall, there is nothing, only darkness and legend…
And the looted remains of WARRIOR II, the Federation ship that came to
bring order to Barbaria. The
tortuous open streets between the miserable houses are deserted.
The Castle, at the top of the mount, is deserted too. The
wind whistles past the poorly adjusted hinges on the wooden doors.
It’s summer, but tonight it’s cold and the wind cuts through the
skin. Where
are the inhabitants of the city? Suddenly,
mixed cries of rage and triumph echo in the night.
The mob is at large. Outside
the walls, where there is a meteorite crated that is believed to be the mouth of
hell, Aguirre the Assassin is haranguing his subjects. The
ignorant and superstitious inhabitants of Sodom, cowed by the dictator’s
powerful temple guards, are clamouring against the “Invaders”. ‘DEATH…!!
DEATH…!! DEATH…!!!’ There,
between the people and the hierarchy, bound like cattle for slaughter, the four
hundred crew of WARRIOR II are trembling with terror. Aguirre
raises his arms, his armour shines in the deathly light of the Galaxy. The
trumpets sound and the drums pound. They
are playing for death. The
crowd is hushed. Aguirre,
tall, imposing with skin as black as coal, walks down from the podium followed
by dozens of his henchmen armed with axes.
One-step behind him, Aguirre the Monster, his teenage son, and Nora the
beautiful, his slightly older daughter, step forward with the haughty grandeur
of monarchs. The
committee stops in front of the Captain of WARRIOR II, first in the endless line
of prisoners. The
drums beat on morbidly. Aguirre
the Assassin looks into the captive’s eyes and smiles. ‘Fucking
son of a whore…’ he says
lifting his hand with the thumb pointed downwards. One
of the henchmen lifts his axe and cuts through the Captain’s neck.
His head rolls on the floor leaving a trail of blood as it passes. Aguirre
moves forward a couple of more steps, to the second of the captives… After
each decapitation, the exalted crowd cries out its triumph and thirst for
revenge. These miserable wretches
lost in the darkest hole of the Universe, work out their frustration by
torturing and annihilating the powerful heirs of the old order. Two
worlds separated by thousands of years are in collision: the decrepit
Federation, disorganised and ruined, yet in the power of a technology that it no
longer understands. And one of the
many outlaw planets, an errant and forgotten world that the passage of time has
turned into an agrarian backwater ruled by tyranny and survival of the fittest. The
executioners move on to the sound of the drums…
malicious smiles on their mouths. Behind
them they leave a pile of bodies and a river of blood that stains the floor of
the crater. It’s
a horrific orgy of cruelty. On
foot, bound but still alive, the prisoners that Aguirre the Assassin has chosen
to make slaves of tremble with horror. They
are the youngest and strongest and they will work in the fields under the
blasting sun or in the mines until their last breaths. And
naturally, all the young, beautiful women are left standing… In
a magnanimous gesture to his subjects, the tyrant orders twenty prisoners to be
separated and gives them to the crowd. The
scene is overwhelmingly cruel. Centuries
of superstition have converted visitors from space into a satanic plague of
invaders that is the cause of all that ails the planet: war, illness, anything
and everything…. To the oppressed
eyes of Sodom’s ignorant inhabitants, WARRIOR’S crew are evil beings with
unknown supernatural powers, capable of invoking the worst kind of disasters. They are creatures from hell that must be exterminated. The
bodies are naked, slashed, beaten, and kicked…
In a few minutes the crowd lifts its bloodstained hands. Nothing is left of their victims, just disfigured remains
that are bloodily trodden into the ground. A
macabre spectacle. Aguirre
the Assassin stops in front of a new victim… It’s
a very young woman, little more than a girl. She’s
very beautiful with big blue eyes and blonde hair.
She is trembling in the face of what she believes to be her last moments. There
is nothing left of her space suit, just a mud-stained and ripped shirt covers
the unfortunate’s body. Her skin
is pale and shows signs of mistreatment; she is naked and defenceless against
Aguirre’s sadistic eyes. She is
on her knees, her arms are held half way up her back by the same cords that are
cruelly pinching her young breasts. An
iron clamp is biting into and hanging from the pink aureole of her right nipple. It
hurts her terribly. She
can neither hide her tongue nor close her mouth; two sharpened canes trap and
squeeze the base of her tongue. She
was born on the ship during the trip and she understands nothing of cruelty and
violence. She
can’t understand anything of what’s going around her. One
of the goons throws a bucket of icy water over her.
The girl shivers and her teeth chatter.
Another puts a hook that reaches into her nose; he makes her stand up and
twists her head back opening her mouth even more. She
is the living image of misery and defeat… She
is one of the daughters of the enemy… Aguirre
the Assassin rubs the trapped tongue with his fingers. The
girl looks into his eyes. Aguirre
smiles and licks his lips. She’s
white and a perfect specimen of racial purity.
She’s from Earth itself. ‘Do
you like her?’ he asks his son. The
dictator’s scion, nicknamed the ‘Monster’ for obvious reasons, is over six
feet tall and strangely disproportional. He
nods stupidly. His eyes are shining
with lust. At fifteen he already
has one slave-girl but he’s sick of her.
She’s a savage that was hunted down on the other side of the desert, in
the southern jungles. She’s a
white female, she’s desirable and very provocative, but older than the
prisoner is, and much less classy. No
contest… Aguirre
the Assassin strokes the girl’s fleshy lips. Tears
flow down her silky cheeks and wet his black fingers. She’s
lovely, extremely lovely, and she’s scared, extremely scared. Aguirre
the Assassin lowers his hand and strokes her neck on one side, he continues to
her shoulder, uncovering it. All
the while smiling, he traps her left nipple, the one that isn’t clamped,
between his fingers and he pinches it evilly. The
girl wriggles and moans, but the cruel hooks prevent her pulling away from the
pain… The
henchman she has behind her, forces her to her knees again.
He holds the girl by the hair and by the nose, like a beast.
He controls her as if she was a puppet. Aguirre
smiles. He always does when a white
female suffers and is humiliated at his feet. ‘She’s
yours, I give her to you, son…’ he
says. ‘Thank
you, father’ replies the
“Monster” quickly, overcome with desire. Father
and son contemplate the wretch… Two
giants of the black race, well muscled with brutal appearances in front of a
fragile and defenceless white girl, a blonde with big blue eyes who is bound on
her knees, trembling at their feet and trapped cruelly by her nose. ‘What
will you call her, son?’ The
“Monster”, son of the “Assassin” didn’t hesitate… ‘“Bitch”, dad.’
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