And He Fulfilled the Role for which He was Designed
	By Katilynn Lentz 

	The key is to never look back. It makes you look bad ass when you blow things up and it keeps you from going insane when your career is killing people. The other key is to always have at least seven weapons hidden on your person at anytime, not including the ones that should be part of your attire (knifes that come out of the tips of your shoes, poison in rings, lasers that come out of your glasses etc), because other people wanting to kill you as well is a big occupational hazard. 
	Any expert will tell you these rules. But I live to break the rules. My very essence breaks every rule science has ever insisted upon; which is why I walk around in some chucks, jeans and a leather jacket with a single gun strapped to my hip. My sunglasses are just that and the ring that lives permanently on my right index finger has no hidden compartment; only a tracker so that Siv can keep tabs on me. 
	I sat there on a lounge chair drinking Everclear watching the building that I set fire to burn to the ground. I heard the metallic snap of a gun being cocked behind me. The gun was pressed against my neck. 
	“Put the gun down, kid,” I said, taking another swig out of the paper bag covered bottle.     
	“Stand up.” 
	“I’m actually pretty comfortable here,”
	“Get up, baghal” 
	I stood up and turned to face my would-be attacker. He was three heads taller than me. His fingers were longer than my whole hand and his skin was almost transparent. His green blood made his skin look the color of algae. He was a Namuh; Siv’s favorite species to use as a grunt. They were quiet and lived for a very long time and reproduced like rabbits so they were dispensable. Judging by his skin color he was around 150 years old. A hundred years younger than me. Still pointing the gun at me, he grabbed the one on my hip and threw it as far away as he could. Which was quite an impressive distance.  
	The Namuh wrapped his long fingers around my arm and dragged me over to a small Space Hopper. Space Hoppers were small, uncomfortable and could only go short distances. Our destination, most likely Siv, must be close.  The door slid open to reveal a small control room. We stumbled in and the Namuh handcuffed me to one of the chairs. He sat to the left of me at the controls and closed the door. He put his gun in his coat pocket and didn’t seem to mind that I could obviously see what he was doing. He pushed a button and a screen dropped down in front of me. Siv’s face appeared.  She smiled thinly, the way she does when she is very angry. I was beginning to regret leaving my Everclear by my lounge chair. 
	“James,” She said. “You succeeded I presume.” Her thin black eyebrow arched at an almost unnaturally sharp angle. Her lips pursed which extenuated her pointed chin. 
	“Well, yeah, and it was most unnecessary to send the crony.” I muttered.
	 The Namuh grunted. I ignored him.
	“On the contrary, it was all too necessary,” Siv said, putting a stray black hair behind her ear. I scoffed but didn’t comment further. “You will be at my base in about twenty minutes. I will meet you when you get here. Make sure to trim the fat.” 
	By that she meant I needed to kill the Namuh once we arrived. I nodded and the screen went blank. The screen when back into the ceiling and I turned to the Namuh. “Onward!” 
	“What did she mean? Trim the fat?” The Namuh looked at me, purely curious. 
	I ignored him again. I don’t like lying and I’m actually pretty bad at it. The Namuh nodded his enormous head and gripped the joy stick that controlled the Space Hopper tighter. He started the engine and we lifted in to the air. I closed my eyes and I sighed. 
	“I have a partner.”
	 I opened one eye and looked at the Namuh. He was sweating. He looked like he was going to cry. 
	“Really?” I said, not even trying to cover up my disinterest. 
	“We are expecting.” 
	“Okay.” From what I knew about Namuh reproduction it involved hundreds of eggs hatching and crawling away and never seeing the parents again. I don’t see why he would think such an emotionless ritual would save him. Unless he thought I didn’t know about Namuh reproduction. “Well your hundreds of offspring won’t know you anyway.”
	“Please.” 
	“Tell me something: why don’t you just not take me to the base? Why don’t you kill me?” 
	“I can’t. Marra Siv has my partner. She will let her go if I return.” His partner was most assuredly already dead. I looked at him. His eyes were glued forward. “You work for her voluntarily.” 
	“Yes.” Not completely true, but not really a lie either. 
	“Why would you do that? What she does…” 
	“She’s a smuggler. Getting rid of people is my job.” 
	“‘Getting rid of people’ is that what you call it?”   
	“Kill. Murder. Assassinate. Slaughter. ‘bump off’. I have no qualms with my work.”
	“You are sick, quattiel.”
	“No, I am all too well.” 
	“We are here.”  He landed the Space Hopper. 
	I lifted my hand and jiggled the handcuffs. “Take them off, please.” 
	“Don’t kill me.” The Namuh pleaded, taking a key out of his coat pocket and unlocking the cuffs. I punched him in the stomach with my right hand. He stumbled backward and fell onto his chair. I elbowed him under the chin, knocking his head back. I grabbed the gun from his coat. 
	“Don’t tell me what to do.” I shot him. Right between his enormous pale eyes. I wiped some brain matter off of my sleeve and put his gun in the holster on my hip. I opened the door and sauntered down the ramp. Siv was waiting for me there. She smiled and I lowered my head. The only time I ever felt regret was when she smiled like that. She turned toward the makeshift base made up of brown tents and portable buildings. She didn’t look back. But I live to break the rules. I turned around. I could see the Namuh through the Hopper’s doorway and I stared.