There was a knock at the door. I opened it, and found myself facing a tall, thin man with pale skin, dark hair, and blue eyes. He was wearing a black sport coat over a dark green open collar shirt, with black slacks and plain black athletic shoes. He had a satchel of some kind in his left hand.
“Hello,” he said. “My name is Lucius Walker, and it has come to my attention that you are harboring a murderous rage. I have a proposition for you. May I come in?”
I frowned. “I don’t know about rage. I will admit to believing that there are many people in the world who could improve it quickly by leaving.”
“Well enough. I repeat, may I come in?” I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter; he looked around and said, “I have something to show you. May I use your table?” I nodded, and he walked into the dining room. He pulled out a chair and set the satchel on it, then opened the satchel and pulled out a black cube that was about a hand-span on each edge. He flipped open the top of the cube to reveal a large red button.
I scowled and said, “It clashes with the drapes.”
Walker smiled to the edge of laughter, and said, “This is so very not about how the device looks. And the colors are appropriate to the function.”
“Which is?”
“Death. Specifically, the user chooses a target, some specific person. The user concentrates on the target, visualizes him or her, and then says the target’s name out loud, and pushes the button. The target dies instantly, and so does the user.”
I scowled again. “Kind of hard to demonstrate efficacy under those conditions.”
“Ah, but it’s reusable. Not by the same person, of course, but if the use is witnessed, the witness will be able to verify the device.”
“Is this a now or never deal? Do I have to make a decision right now?”
“No. The box is yours if you want it.”
“What happens if the button is pressed inadvertently?”
“If the person who pushes the button knows the rules and follows them, the box will function as specified. If not, the box will do nothing.”
“What’s in this for you?”
“I like chaos. You might say it’s my reason for existing.”
“Ah. Well. Thank you, and I will be keeping the box.”
“I thought you might.”
P.D. Haynie
March 20, 2026