Chapter 4. Bread and Circuses
Despite far higher than normal intelligence, Aster was still easily distracted from any purpose, like any child. The thought of the lie she was certain the guard in the Hall of Fallen Heroes had told occupied her thoughts for much of the next day, and she wondered how she could look further into the matter. Reading the files in the chests below the display that she was suspicious of was a possibility. But she didn't understand many of the words, as yet. And she didn't know what the guards would think of a girl like her spending so much time reading the files, either. She wasn't quite sure what the guards or the Maestro would do if they were caught lying, but she was pretty sure that neither of them would like for anyone to know they had lied. People lied because they either had something to gain, or were afraid of something. Aster was pretty sure that neither the guards nor the Maestro would like very much to NOT gain whatever it was they might gain by lying, and they would like even less to be afraid.
After all, her father had said that the Maestro was going to destroy the Hulk's head after three days, because he was afraid of it. No, making the Maestro afraid by catching him in a lie was most definitely NOT a smart thing for Aster to do. She would keep away from the Hall of Fallen Heroes for the time being, until she thought of a way to read the files she wanted to, without making anyone suspicious.
Having resolved to do nothing for the time being, the matter of the guard's lie faded to the back of Aster's mind after a few days, though she never forgot about it, and sometimes still thought about it when she was alone in places like the Mouse House.
About two weeks after everyone in Dystopia had been required to bear witness to the Maestro's power by looking at all the heads on spikes, and the remains in the Hall of Fallen Heroes, Aster and her father were surprised by the Maestro coming to the Zoo unannounced. Usually he sent a herald an hour or two ahead of him to announce that he was coming, so that the proper preparations could be made, such as sending any other visitors in the Zoo away. Aster was actually outside, pouring shriveled kernels of Indian corn into a trough in a fenced in pasture where their goats and deer lived while her father shoveled up some of their droppings into a pre-War wheelbarrow. The goats were breeding well… well, better than some of the other animals, anyways given the constant problems of radiation and inbreeding. Despite the loss of the female goat to one of the Maestro's guards a few weeks earlier, it could be that they might be able to sell a few as early as next year.
The Maestro strode down the roads of the zoo, followed by a retinue of male servants and some of the scantily clad women Aster had seen at his palace a few weeks early. Both genders of servants wrinkled their noses at the smells and filth of the zoo, as they followed the Maestro until he came to the area where Aster and her father were working. Aster's father scurried out of the pasture, brushing some of the dirt off his clothes and bowing low before the Maestro. Aster felt the Maestro's gaze on her for a few seconds, unpleasant, like that of the tigers when they hadn't been fed, and thinking of all those heads on spikes in front of the palace, took care not to look back, and fixed her gaze on the trough full of corn.
"I need you to do something for me, Joshua." The Maestro said in a growling voice.
"Yes, yes, of course." Her father kneeled down. "If it's in my power. Do you need more buffalo or deer? Or milk?"
The Maestro waved his hand dismissively at the offer. "The rebels had amazingly good food supplies. We think they were being helped from Outside. I won't need anything along those lines from you… for a while. In fact, I may even give you some extra meat for you animals and family. What do you say to that?"
"I would say you were most generous, my Lord."
Aster tried to step sideways into the shadow of a tree, but the motion attracted the Maestro's attention again. She felt his squinting green eyes on her.
"Is that your daughter, Joshua? What's she doing in there with those goats and deer? How old is she?"
"She's only twelve, my Lord. She's in there because I'm training her to care for the animals. To be Zookeeper someday."
"You have no sons?" the low voice sounded threatening. Though why the Maestro should be displeased by either her being a girl, or the fact that her father didn't have any sons was unclear to Aster.
"No, my lord. Only the two daughters. And the younger one is sickly. I doubt she could handle the work."
The Maestro looked at Aster for several more seconds, obviously disapproving of her for some reason Aster didn't understand. Finally he looked away.
"Your daughter is ugly. She looks like a boy. But run your zoo however you like, Joshua." The Maestro finally said. "As long as you keep in mind who you serve."
"Yes, my lord." Then, in an attempt to distract the Maestro's attention from his older daughter, he changed the subject. "You said you had a request for me, my Lord."
"Yes." The Maestro did not seem to notice the obvious distraction, and much to Aster's relief, turned his gaze away from her and back to her father. Obviously, whatever it was that brought him to the zoo was of far more importance to him than one ugly girl in the deer cage.
"The people don't respect me, Joshua" The Maestro said.
"My Lord, everyone here respects you." the zookeeper hastened to assure him.
It was the wrong thing to say. The Maestro took Joshua's head between one large finger and thumb, and squeezed slightly, enough to hurt him badly, but not enough to cause injury. "Don't patronize me. They fear me. But they don't respect me. If they did, they wouldn't have rebelled against me and forced me to make an example of them. I need them to respect me. I need something… impressive."
"I'm not sure how I can help you with that, my Lord." the zookeeper said, wincing from the pain of the Maestro's fingers gripping his head. "But I will do whatever I can."
The Maestro seemed satisfied that the pain had made his point, and released Aster's father. "A large part of the problem is how I travel. My presentation, as it were. I'm too large to ride a horse. I've tried to get my stablemen to breed larger draft horses, but their best efforts have been… disappointing"
He paused for a few secondly, allowing Aster's father time to wonder what sort of fate befell those who 'disappointed' the Maestro, even through no fault of their own. "I have chariots and wagons, of course, but with such small horses… I don't think it's impressive enough. It makes me look like a load of hay being pulled around, wouldn't you say?"
"I don't think anyone would ever think of you in such a way, my Lord." Joshua said.
"Perhaps you wouldn't." The Maestro told him. "But you're an intelligent man. Intelligent enough to give me respect. Not everyone is that intelligent. They need to be impressed. I need your help with that."
"I'll give you anything you wish. The entire resources of the Zoo are at your disposal, if you wish it."
"Obviously." The Maestro said in a sneering voice. "Since I'm the one providing all the food for your animals. My minister tells me that you no longer have any elephants at the zoo, is that correct?"
"Yes. Forgive me, my lord." Aster had seen pictures of elephants in her father's books. Elephants obviously would have been strong enough to bear the Maestro's weight, and no doubt the sight of the Maestro riding one would have been highly impressive. "After the war… the first zookeeper had no way of knowing that you were going to build Dystopia and provide for us. Elephants require a great deal of food, and there simply wasn't enough. They were starving. The first zookeeper made the decision to put them down and feed them to the tigers and other meat eaters. He had to choose between saving them, or saving most of the other species here. I apologize if you are angered at his decision, my Lord."
"I'm disappointed, but there's nothing to be done about it. However, I had a different thought in mind. Horses pulling me in a chariot would not be impressive. I'd look like a load of hay. And a load of hay in a goat cart, at that. But I think some other creature pulling a chariot would be more impressive. A pair of tigers, perhaps. I've know you have tigers here, at the zoo. I've seen them. I'm sure they can be trained to do something as simple as pulling a chariot. I've seen them jumping through hoops of fire, back before the War."
The zookeeper's eyes widened. Tigers were probably the most dangerous animals in the zoo, and he generally tried to keep as far away from them as possible, unless they had been sedated with opium. About the only thing he had trained them to do was to go in the smaller cage in the back of their enclosure, when he needed to clean up after them. Still, the fact that they could be trained to do that showed that they could be trained. And he had read about the numerous complex tricks that circus tigers had learned to do, before the war.
Still… perhaps there was a way to make things less dangerous for himself.
"Do you think…" Joshua's voice was tremulous. "Perhaps you could help me with the training? It would make things far easier, the tigers could never hurt you, my Lord."
"What do you think I am, one of your hirelings?" The Maestro was visibly annoyed, his breath hissing over large, yellowed teeth. "I'm the ruler of this city, Joshua. You serve me, not the other way around. I have far more important things to do with my time than spend it in a dirty cage full of animals, like that ugly daughter of yours over there."
The Maestro pointed one finger violently towards where Aster was still futilely trying to hide in the shadow of a tree, dashing any hopes her father might have had that the Maestro had forgotten her existence.
"I'm sorry." Aster's father bowed very low again, getting onto his knees and his head scraping the ground. "I'm sure I will be able to manage without your presence. I have several books on the subject of training animals that I am sure will be adequate. Would a matched pair of neutered males, brothers, perhaps, be to your liking, my Lord?"
The thought of nearly identical tigers seemed to please the Maestro, and he nodded. Relieved at having pleased the Maestro, Aster's father decided to make a few more requests from him.
"There are a few things I will need. A supply of fresh meat, the best cuts. To serve as a reward for the animals when I am training them. One of the electrified whips I've seen your guards with at times, to protect myself and punish them. A decent quantity of opium, in case I need to sedate the tigers. Some of your old clothes."
"My clothes?" The Maestro did not understand the last request, and hated anything he did not understand. "Whatever for? I'm warning you, if you are planning some sort of treachery..."
"It's for nothing bad, my lord. It's just that I wish to train the tigers to obey YOU. As you will not be here, the next best thing is to make myself smell like you, by wearing some of your old clothing. The dirtier and sweatier, the better."
The Maestro laughed loudly at this, his chuckles making the inside of Aster's stomach shake. "I hardly think my old clothing will fit you, Joshua."
"The fit is unimportant. I can simply drape the clothing, or pieces from it, over myself. The important thing is for the tigers to get used to your scent… and obeying it."
"I have some ripped garments you can have. Is there anything else?"
"A chariot. Of approximately the same size and weight you intend to use."
"So you can teach them to pull it. Very good. How long do you think it will take to train them?"
"I don't know, my Lord. I've never done anything like this, before. I think perhaps no more than a few months. If you could loan me one of your stablemen, who trains horses, that may be of some help. Consulting with him may give me some ideas as to how to proceed. Tigers are far different than horses, though. Horses generally don't try to eat you."
"A few months seems reasonable. And I will loan you my stable master - who will also be reporting your progress to me. I warn you, fail me, and I'll cut off all the food to your precious zoo, Joshua."
"I will not fail, my Lord." Joshua was not certain he could keep the promise, but he would stay up nights trying!
The Maestro seemed satisfied, and walked out of the zoo, his servants and women scurrying to keep up with his long strides.
Joshua stood where he was, partly slumped over in relief and holding onto the fence to support himself. Training a tiger. My God, had the Maestro gone mad? Those things were man-eaters, given the opportunity. It would have been easier if he could have started with a pair of cubs, but the Maestro was an impatient, petulant child. He would not want to wait years for results. Hell, he was lucky that the Maestro was willing to wait a few months!
He gestured for Aster to come out of the pasture. "Grind up some opium and get the large table in the operating room prepared. I need to go get the narrow wagon and some men to help me with the tigers. Don't spread the sheets out, yet. Wait until I come back."
Aster nodded and went to the Zoo's medical building, where they kept what few drugs they had. They were kept in large, dark jars with rubber rings around the lids to seal them tight. The opium came in dark brown balls, about the size of a grape, that were a little sticky in a way that reminded her of the blobs of resiney sap that sometimes dripped from pine trees. The blobs got hard on the outside with age, and had to be ground up to soften them, and formed into smaller balls, before they could be used. They were administered rectally, and her father said that being softer increased the rate at which they were absorbed, as did forming them into smaller balls, which increased the surface area. Aster had understood the first concept easily enough, soft candy was easier to chew than hard candy, but why the same amount in smaller balls would make a difference or what 'surface area' was confused her, until her father showed her the math behind it, and had her cut out large squares and smaller squares from a big burdock leaf (paper was too valuable to waste cutting up) and measuring their sides with a ruler until she grasped the concept.
Preparing the opium took only a few minutes. Preparing the large table in the operating room took far longer. The table was big enough for a tiger, or perhaps even the Maestro himself, to lie on. Probably it wasn't big enough for an elephant, if they had still had any. She asked her father once if the Zoo had ever done operations on elephants before the War, but he wasn't sure. He said elephants were so large, that a surgeon likely would have actually had to climb inside it to do any sort of complex surgery, and he wasn't sure how that could be done. Or even if it had been done. Or if it had, perhaps the people before the war had had some way of doing it that he didn't know about.
Still, there was lots of work to do, preparing the large table. First, Aster had to pour pails of water into one old kitchen pot and several large sawn off metal barrels that were on a thick grating over an open fireplace, carefully arrange wood on the fireplace, and light it. The fireplace was set into a wall that was obviously not part of the original construction of the operating room. The other walls were made out of smooth pre-War plaster, but the wall with the fireplace was made out of crude bricks. It would have been obvious to someone from before the war that a fourth wall had been torn down at some point, and this new addition added, but to Aster, it was just the usual way many buildings were in the Zoo, a mixture of old and new, and she didn't really think about it.
It would take some time for the water to come to a boil, so once the wood was burning, she opened a large cupboard and took out some stained, yellowing sheets. It was obvious from their fine weave that they were made before the War. The few attempts at homespun cloth that were for sale in Dystopia were crude stuff that was full of pilled fibers and tore easily. The stains didn't matter, anyways. The boiling water would kill any bacteria on them. Aster threw the sheets into some of the barrels of water, then got out a case full of surgical instruments and put them all into the old kitchen pot.
Then Aster got out a large plastic container that had the words 'Wood Alcohol' printed neatly on it in black letters. Below that, in red paint, was written 'poison', and below that (also in red paint) was a picture of a skull and crossbones. Her father said that wood alcohol was different from grain alcohol. He had even shown her in a book a picture of what he said were the two different molecules (also called Methanol and Ethanol, which Aster kept getting mixed up). The two molecules looked very similar, the only difference was that the one you could drink (ethanol or grain alcohol) had three extra 'atoms', one big carbon atom and two little hydrogen atoms stuck out to the side, like a person with two extra arms or something. Aster didn't understand why just a couple tiny old atoms should make the difference between killing you and not killing you, but her father said it was true, and proved it by killing a rat by squirting wood alcohol down it's throat with a syringe. He had some of the men he hired to work at the zoo watch as well, and warned them to never get into the wood alcohol to get drunk. It would first make you blind, then kill you. It was for fuel, and sterilizing things, not partying. With your mother, or anyone else. Which Aster guessed meant the same thing as getting drunk.
Her father then had gone on to tell Aster and his workers that when he was a boy, a man who had been working at the zoo had not believed the warnings of his father about the wood alcohol and had drunk it anyways, because his father hadn't thought to show the workers then what happened by feeding the wood alcohol to a rat, and the man thought his father was lying and just wanted to keep the alcohol to get drunk with himself. They found him dead the next morning, in a pool of alcohol, vomit, and blood.
Between all her father's dire warnings, and the demonstration with the rat, the workers at the zoo seemed to grasp that drinking the wood alcohol was a bad idea, and left it alone. Which meant that there was always plenty for wiping off cuts, or the operating tables, as Aster was doing now. She poured a little of the alcohol onto an old rag, and wiped the operating table off on all sides, wiped off the thick leather restraints and their buckles, carefully poking one twisted corner of the rag into each hole on the leather straps, wiped off a large, shallow pan that fitted on one side of the table, then wiped the area on the floor as well. When she was done with that, she did it again. Then a third time. It wasn't as if they were short of wood alchohol. The stuff was cheap, compared to the type you could drink, and there were ten other five gallon containers in the cupboard that Aster didn't even need to open. Aster had asked her father once if he knew why one type of alcohol was safe to drink and the other wasn't, when the pictures of the molecules looked so different, but he said he didn't know. He said that knowing why was an old science called 'Biochemistry' that had been forgotten after the war. Maybe there were still books about it, but what good would they do? All you really needed to know in these times was not to drink the wood alcohol like a dummy.
By that time the water in the barrels with the sheets was boiling. Her father had said not to spread them out, yet, so Aster just used some metal tongs to pull some of the wood off the fire, letting the barrels just simmer while she waited for him.
He came back sooner than she thought, only in a little over half an hour. After checking over the operating room, her father measured out some of the opium Aster had ground up, folded it into a burdock leaf and took it with him. "I'll be back again, soon, with one of the tigers Keep those sheets and instruments simmering."
Aster did as told, occasionally putting another log on the fire. Sure enough, in less than an hour her father came back, leading several men who were pulling a long, narrow wagon. On top of the wagon was a large tiger, obviously sedated from being fed opium. One of his eyes opened a slight crack, revealing shining green and yellow, then closed again. They came in through the door, the wagon just barely fitting and scraping against the sides.
"Quick. Help me get the sheets on, Aster." The men did not know the proper procedure for keeping the sheets sterile. Or at least as sterile as was possible, but Aster did. She and her father each took a pair of tongs, held it in the bare flames of the fire for a few moments, then used them to fish sheets out of the barrels of boiling water, as if they had been dumplings. Still using the tongs – using their bare hands would have burned them and contaminated the sheets, the spread the large cloths out onto the metal table as best they could. The spread out sheets cooled quickly, and Aster's father tested one corner of it with a finger after a few moments. He nodded. They were no longer hot enough to burn.
He handed the large container of wood alcohol to his men and told them to wipe it on their hands and arms up to their elbows. They did so quickly, and he put the alcohol to one side for the moment.
"Get him in here and roll him onto the table. Aster, you pour some of the boiling water into the cooling pan." Ordered her father. Aster took the cooling pan from where it fitted on the operating table, brought it over to the fireplace, and dipped poured water into it from one of the barrels ful of sheets. The men were obviously nervous about being near an uncaged tiger, even such an obviously sedated one, and hastened to obey. Partly lifting, and partly rolling, they got the tiger onto the operating table, then helped shift the huge animal's body around, until Aster's father was able to get the restraints around it's body, limbs, and head in several places. The tiger was well and truly bound, even if it woke up in an instant, it wouldn't be able to claw or even open it's mouth, or prevent them from re-sedating it by administering more opium rectally.
Her father checked all the straps, making sure they were tight, and none were worn, then finally nodded. "Alright. Everyone out. But wait outside. I'll need your help when I'm done getting this one back to the cage, and bringing in the next one."
The men left, and Aster knew what happened next. She went over to the fire. "What do you need, first?"
"Razor. " Aster took a smaller pair of tongs, stuck them in the fire the way she had with the ones they used for the sheets, and fished the razor out of the boiling water and put it into the cooling pan. The water in it was only lukewarm by now, and after a few moments, the razor was safe to touch. Her father began shaving the tiger around it's crotch, along it's penis and near it. Aster wasn't sure what he was doing.
"Are you going to try to artificially inseminate one of the females." She knew that was wrong, while she said it. Collecting sperm wouldn't have required surgery.
"No, I'm going to castrate it. Remove it's testicles."
Aster frowned. "What for? We won't be able to breed it."
"No, we won't." Her father looked unhappy at the thought. "But we wouldn't be able to, anyways. Once I train them and give them to the Maestro, I doubt he's going to loan them back to us for breeding purposes."
"Well, if the Maestro's taking them anyways, why go to all this trouble?" Preparing the operating room was always a lot of work. " Why not just train them and give them to him?"
"Because castration not only prevents breeding, it reduces aggression in male animals. It'll make them easier and safer to train. More obedient."
"Is that why they sometimes castrate horses? To make them more obedient?"
"Yes, although a lot of them die from infection. Most people aren't able to follow proper sterilization procedures in these times." Her father frowned. Another new addition to the building had been the removal of part of the roof, and replacing it with glass from the bird enclosures, which were now mostly empty. Lightbulbs were nearly impossible to get, so all surgery was performed during the day. But the sun didn't stand still, and was now off to one side of the operating table.
"Get the mirror." He told Aster. She knew immediately what the problem was, and rolled a large standing mirror from one corner, and angled it where it would reflect the sunlight back towards where her father needed to operate. He nodded approvingly. "Scalpel."
Aster used the tongs to get the scalpel out of the pot of boiling water and dropped it into the cooling pan. Her father waited a few moments, then took the scalpel and cut into the tiger's scrotum. Aster thought about what her father had said, castration making animals less violent and more obedient.
"Is that why the Maestro has castrated people… the eunuchs… in his palace? Because he wants them to be less violent and more obedient?"
"Among other reasons." Her father didn't feel like explaining to a child as young as Aster that the Maestro's real concern was probably jealousy of various sorts. Eunuchs were not a threat to what he saw as his 'rights' regarding the women he kept in his palace. He cut deeper, and accidentally nicked a small artery. "Damn it!" He took one corner of the sheet and used it to sop up some of the blood.
"Get me a small clip. And heat a 1/16 inch stainless steel probe red hot on one end, and give it to me."
Aster got the small clip, and after cooling it for a moment, her father used it to pinch off the bleeding. Aster heated the probe and brought it quickly and carefully to her father, who used it to burn the blood vessel shut. Blood vessels could be sewn, of course, but cauterizing them was easier, especially if they were small, or you were performing an amputation, anyways. Which castration was a form of. And the fine magnifying tools to perform miracles like microsurgery, that could re-attach lost body parts had been lost to time and the War.
Her father cut through the ligaments and blood vessels that attached the tiger's testicles to the rest of it's body, and finally freed one of them. He made Aster watch as he cauterized all the veins and arteries. Someday she would need to know how to do that. He handed her one of the testicles.
"Go put that in salt water. I know some Chinese people who'll pay a lot for it." Aster snorted. She was slightly familiar with the tradition medical beliefs of Chinese people, and not highly impressed by them, despite the fact that such beliefs were becoming more popular in Dystopia as more technology, drugs, and tools became harder to get. Nevertheless, their money was as good as anyone else's, and if they wanted to pay a clanking fortune for tiger balls, more the fool them. The money would buy food for the other animals.
There was salt in the operating room, of course. Aster got a jar of water, and poured in a generous amount of salt, then dropped the egg shaped testicle into it. She did the same with the other one, then had to watch again as her father rinsed the area where he had operated with wood alcohol and stitched the tiger's scrotum shut.
"You know, I don't understand why the Maestro would need for people to be less violent and more obedient." Aster said, as her father finished the last few stitches. "It's not like he can be afraid of them. They can't hurt him. Maybe someone should castrate him. If it calms him down. He seems mad all the time. I didn't like the way he acted when he was here before."
"What?!" Her father dropped the needle, and seized Aster by the shoulder, shaking her violently. He pulled her nearly entirely across the limp tiger, and she was forced to hold herself up against the sides of the table to avoid touching the suddenly very terrible emasculating wound. "Don't ever say that! Never again, you hear? Not to anyone!"
"Why? What did I say?" Aster's mouth gaped open. Her father released her, and she slid down carefully to the floor.
"The Maestro would kill you for saying that. You understand?"
"No. Why?"
Her father waved one hand helplessly. "People… aren't animals. If you castrate an animal, it calms them down. Animals don't have much sense of time. They don't remember the past very well. Or have very many hopes or fears for the future. When you castrate an animal, they accept it. They don't remember what it was like before being castrated, or think about what it might be like if they hadn't been. People are different… if you castrate a man, he'll be furious. Even if you do it when he's a boy, before he's ever had sex, he'll know what he lost. Know that he'll never have sex again. Which you're old enough by now to know that people, especially men, enjoy a lot more than animals. Most men will risk or pay almost anything to get sex, they like it that much. If you take that away from a man, probably he'll try to kill you. And someone as strong as the Maestro will kill you. Just for even suggesting it. It's something all men are afraid of. Even him."
"Were the eunuchs in his palace afraid before he castrated them?"
"Probably. Yes. But they weren't given a choice. Or not much of one. That or death. And some men even actually prefer death, to that."
"It seems pretty mean for the Maestro to do that to them, then. If he's afraid of it himself. Doesn't he think other people are afraid?" Aster thought how afraid her father had seemed when the Maestro had held his head in two deadly fingers.
"He doesn't care. For a lot of people… morality is only about being punished. What consequences there might be for their actions. And nobody can punish the Maestro. So he doesn't care what he does, or who he hurts. He doesn't have any empathy. Understand?"
Aster thought about it. Her father had once told her that she had a lot of 'empathy' which let you understand how other people or animals felt, even if you didn't feel that way yourself, and it was why she would be a great Zookeeper someday. He told her it was a sign of being grown up. Which apparently the Maestro wasn't. "That's why you said once that he was like a little boy. Little kids don't care how other people feel, and they don't behave unless you spank them."
"Yes. Except nobody is strong enough to 'spank' the Maestro. And it takes a very great man to be moral, without fear of punishment. The Maestro is strong, but he isn't great. That's one reason why he doesn't get respect. Even these tigers…" He waved his hand at the prone beast. "Won't get him respect. Respect is like love, in a way. Perhaps it's even a form of love. It has to be earned, and freely given. It can never be stolen with fear and force."
"Why bother training them, then? If they won't get him the respect he wants?"
Her father smiled sadly. "They'll get him fear. At least for a while. He'll be happy with that. He can't really tell the difference that much, anyways."
Her father cleaned up the first tiger, and called in some of his workers to take it out to a small cage to recover. He and Aster operated on the second tiger in near silence. There was little to say, the operation was nearly identical to the first one, and Aster was starting to think that she did not like the Maestro very much.