Chapter 21 - Metamorphosis
GORAST - ABOARD THE TERIDAX'S WILL
Gorast had been ordered to negotiate with the Chinese government with great haste, so as to capitalize on their sore feelings towards the Americans. She understood these orders, how to carry them out, and the intention behind them all with great clarity.
Nonetheless, she had no intention of following them for the time being.
"Increase speed to flank!" she barked at her helmsman, who immediately obliged. Being in one of her frequent rageful moods, the entire crew understood that delaying - let alone questioning - her orders was a death sentence. It was the perfect atmosphere of fear that she had cultivated to ensure her demands were followed, and were she not so chiefly upset, she would have reveled in this fact.
She silently seethed as she kept her eyes on the viewport, watching the ocean ahead. In the near distance was the landmass that Vamprah said was called "Indonesia". It was apparently a small island with an even smaller population. It was the perfect sort of tool with which to vent her frustrations.
As her fleet approached, the shattered remains of the Indonesian navy approached her, but the battle was a foregone conclusion. As each ship was easily picked apart and utterly destroyed, Gorast felt the urge for violence rising within her, and wordlessly stormed out of the bridge.
Her wings fluttered, and she lifted herself into the air, flying towards the last of the Primitive vessels. The battle was already over, but a predatory instinct in her forced her onwards. As she did so, the entire fleet ceased fire, spectating her display of brutality.
The sound of screeching metal. Claws raking against the hull of a ship. Screams of terror.
He has betrayed Teridax. Teridax held that the Brotherhood would rule every universe - rule! The Primitives exist to be our fodder, to be trampled beneath -
A red hot beam of energy streaming from her eyes, slicing an unlucky sailor in half.
And he forgets his place, demanding that I negotiate with these foul creatures, these detestable worms that do not deserve the privilege of breathing the same air -
Lightning streaming from her hands, chaining among a group of sailors firing small pistols at her. She shrugged the projectiles off as they simply bounced off of her protosteel armor.
That I am expected to negotiate, parley, with these insects, who do not fathom the scope of Teridax's divine will, who we so generously offered the chance to surrender, who spat in our face -
A sailor with his hands in the air, cleaving his head off his shoulders with a single blow.
Kill a traitor before an enemy -
Blood splattering aboard the deck.
Incompetent buffoon who was never right -
Sparks flying.
Expects me to -
Metal tearing.
Traitor -
Death.
The Teridax's Will floated just outside of the Chinese territorial waters, flanked by two of the Primitive's destroyers. Behind it in the far distance was the column of smoke coming from the latest of several Indonesian cities that Gorast had put to the torch. Her several-day-long path of carnage was merciless, and everything she laid her eyes upon was destroyed. It was late enough in the evening that the smoke was no longer visible, which helped keep recent events far from the minds of the Chinese.
Gorast eyed her escort with pure hatred as they steered her towards the harbor on the island of Hainan. It had been hell for her to allow the pathetic Primitives to board her vessel, but her assurances that their mission was diplomatic had kept the situation from escalating. How she wished it had - she would have loved nothing more than to rip the boarding party limb from limb.
Instead, her ship found itself seized by the enemy and escorted to a secret blacksite to the south of the country. It seemed, from her assessment, to be in the middle of nowhere, and she hoped that the rest of the Chinese nation was more developed than the areas she was seeing, or else they would prove quite useless as allies.
Ahead, she could see a strange object - an aerial vehicle, with a large turbine overtop of it, which was slowly falling from the air and coming to a rest on a landing pad. She cocked a single brow as she watched it.
A poor excuse for a flying vehicle. Typical for these…beasts.
Some time later, when her ship had docked, she was led by a group of twelve Primitives, each armed with a rifle of some kind. Armed vehicles of a strange make, with treads like that of a Rahi, kept cannons aimed at her as she moved, leaving her to wonder if their attacks could even pierce her protosteel armor. At the center of the open area was a single table at which a man sat, wearing what appeared to pass for formal wear among the Primitives.
"Greetings. My name is Mr. Yang. I hear you have come to negotiate with the Chinese government?"
Gorast inspected the Primitive. They were shaking in their seat, and were obviously terrified of her as all the others were. It made her feel very good.
With no eagerness, she activated the Rau she had been given.
"My name is Makuta Gorast. I represent the Brotherhood of Makuta, and the divine will of Makuta Teridax. I have been…instructed to make a gracious proposition to you."
The two stared awkwardly at each other. She could see him deliberating behind his eyes.
"I'm listening," Mr. Yang said in a low tone.
CLAIRE BOYTON - AUSTRALIA
Claire could not tell for how long she had been running. Her legs and lungs both screamed for her to stop, but she could not. Whatever was behind her was making sure of it.
Claire was in the living room of her flat, pestering her cat Dusty, as cat owners are wont to do, when the news came. There were aliens on Earth. It was a singularly shocking revelation that rocked her to her core, and that night, she did not sleep. Tossing and turning, her mind wandered between visions of horrors from the stars, and memories of whatever movies she had seen on the topic of alien invasion. The sound of mayhem accompanied her throughout the night, as it felt like half the city stayed awake and screamed in terror.
The next bit of news came at dinner, some time later. She was halfway through a frozen pizza when the text came from her friend, Lawrence.
"Did you get plane tickets yet?"
"What?"
"They're gonna get more expensive."
"What are you talking about?"
"Check the news."
True enough, the news confirmed her worst possible suspicions as to what Lawrence could be talking about. The aliens were headed for Australia. They were coming from the East.
Claire, as a resident of Sydney, reacted to this news with terror. Her first reaction was to look for plane tickets out of the country as fast as possible. The first website she checked returned a loading symbol that went on and on and on. She soon realized that the website was down from too much traffic. Quick to adapt, she looked to another website, which had the decency to at least provide a message requesting she wait and refresh the page. She had no time to wait. The third website at least let her through, though as she looked towards the list of flights, her eyes glazed over with each "no tickets available". It was a never-ending list, as if every single plane out of the country had been fully booked - and she suspected they had.
Claire could feel her chest tighten, and her breath grow shallow. It was as though her lungs had been replaced by blocks of ice. Carbon dioxide filled her bloodstream, and her vision darkened. The panic attack - although it lasted but a minute - felt like an hour of pain.
As her breathing settled, and her focus returned, her mind was filled with a single thought.
"I have to get out of here. Now."
It took a matter of hours for Claire to pack everything she needed. Passport. Week's worth of clothes. Toiletries. Food, if needed - either she could eat it, or she could trade it if the worst came to pass and she was stranded in Sydney for a while. Naturally, her cat.
The sun was already going down, but Claire did not care. It would not be the first time she slept in her car - she was more concerned with the hope that it would not be the last.
Claire was not alone in her plan - it took her very little time to find herself bumper-to-bumper on the highway. As she gripped her steering wheel, knuckles white with pressure, she tried to focus on her immediate surroundings. She reached over into the crate in her passenger seat, petting Dusty.
The hour was just past midnight, and Claire's eyelids were growing heavy. Looking at a map on her phone, she was disappointed to see that she had not made nearly as much progress as she had hoped. She knew it would take a few days to reach Darwin, in the Northwest, but even then, she was already fighting against the clock, and felt no need to be fighting sleep as well.
Nonetheless, it was a battle she knew she would lose if it went on too much longer, and so, reluctantly, she pulled off on the next exit. Her eyes were peeled for the service station, but what she instead saw was a boarded up building with a cardboard sign on the window, reading simply "no gas".
She checked her fuel gauge - still decent enough. She would last a while longer. Turning into the parking lot, she slid into one of the parking spots, and turned her car off. Leaning her seat back, she shut her eyes. She would only need to rest for a moment.
It was in the mid-afternoon of the next day when the bomb fell. The cars were still moving at a snail's pace, and so she was close enough to see the blast. Had she been listening to her radio, she would have heard early warnings of the coming strike for over an hour - but she did not. She drove in silence, eyes trained forward. Her phone, having died earlier in the day, could not broadcast its emergency warning. She was caught completely unaware.
It was as if the sun had suddenly come out in full force. The entire car filled with a sudden bright light, and she wondered what could be happening. Then the blastwave came, and she felt her entire body rumble in her seat, as the loudest sound she had ever heard tore through her and her car. It was as if a wall of pure noise had violently thrust its way through everything in its path, leaving pain and confusion in its wake.
The already crawling train of cars came to a stop, as everyone exited the vehicle to inspect the devastation in the distance behind them. Claire simply glanced in her rearview mirror, where she could see the mushroom cloud forming. She turned the mirror away, and kept her eyes forward. On a practical level, she understood that you weren't supposed to look straight into a nuclear blast. But she kept her gaze on the road for different reasons.
She saw her first abandoned car that evening. Someone had run out of gas and simply left their car behind, electing to walk along the highway. She could see two particularly brave people had stopped to push it off the side of the road so as to ease up the congestion of traffic, though she wondered how much good it would do. Still, she did not stop them. Her focus was turned to her own fuel gauge. It was running out. Not empty yet, but…
She tried not to think about it. The road would open up soon, and she could finally put some distance between her and…
She wondered what was left. How much of the city survived - who survived. She thought about her neighbor in the apartment next to hers, and realized she had never said anything to him. She wondered what their last conversation had been about. They were on good terms, and spoke regularly. She wondered if he was even alive. Maybe he was stuck on the road like she was. Or maybe he was -
She kept her eyes on the road. There was no other option.
Claire walked. Another night spent sleeping in her car, and another morning driving. She was one of hundreds who had given up on the road, abandoned their vehicles, and begun to walk. Water was at a premium. The hot sun was like a siren wailing overhead, never ceasing. Its pain was unending. Claire regretted not choosing more comfortable shoes. In one hand, she clutched Dusty's carrier. In the other, a suitcase. On her back, a backpack full of essentials. Both shoulders felt as if they were ready to fall off, yet she kept walking.
It was sundown when she saw someone who had fallen facedown by the side of the road. A man who looked older than her father. She called out for him, and he did not respond. Walking over, she poked at his shoulder, trying to wake him up. She wondered if there was any way to get medical attention this far out in the middle of nowhere.
Another man was walking along the road, and she tried to catch his attention.
"Hey, this guy's not moving - I think he needs a doctor!"
The man glanced over at her and the facedown figure, and his eyes went hollow. He shook his head at her. It took less than a second for her to realize what had happened.
Silently, she stepped away from the facedown figure and returned to the road. She glanced back at the body. She had never seen a dead person before. She wondered if it was the heat, or maybe the lack of water. It was all the same in the end.
Her heart felt like a rock. She kept her eyes on the road. There was no other option.
She had less than half her food remaining, having had to leave much of it behind when she abandoned her car. It had been three days of walking. She had spent her first night in a service station that evidently had been broken into. There wasn't much food left - most people had the same idea. There was cat food, which was lucky enough for her, as she let Dusty out of his crate to have a decent meal for the first time in some while. She tried to make sure he didn't eat too fast so that he wouldn't throw it up later. Just in case, though, she stuffed a few cans into her pockets. Still, it was indoors, and so she figured it would be better than the alternatives.
She awoke that night to find a group of four people whose feet crushed the broken glass underfoot. They glanced about hungrily, eyes devouring the remains of whatever food could be found. Their hands darted towards the chips and lukewarm, flat sodas that they could find. Claire held her breath and stayed still, hoping they wouldn't notice her behind the counter. It felt like an hour before they left, but they did so as quietly as they had come in.
She had lost track of the days by the time she saw her first alien. She was walking, as was all she knew by this point, when she saw something move between the cars on the road. The road was far emptier now, with most vehicles long since passed. Electric cars and particularly fuel-efficient automobiles were all that were left at this point, and even they were dry as a bone. Occasionally she would see people looting a car, though she always passed by them without a word. She and the looters would never meet each other's eyes. There was an unspoken shame in what they were doing that neither she would call them out for, nor they would admit to.
She was among a widely dispersed crowd of nearly twenty people, so when she saw movement, she assumed that it was simply just someone leaving or joining the group. This rapidly changed, however, when a noise came from beyond one of the cars. It was a screech like metal scraping against metal, but with a vocal quality to it. It was not some noise made by an industrial byproduct; it was projected, like a scream of primal, animalistic rage. She saw a flash of silver - two massive silver blades, each the size of her torso, thrust into the air from behind a car.
The screech was soon joined by more - though these were human as the crowd suddenly reacted in a panic. The leg of the creature lifted itself onto the hood of the car, and she could see it was clad in black armor, with a bright yellow-orange underside. Another leg joined it, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes.
She did not have time to think. She ran. As fast as she could, she sprinted away from the road as the crowd fled, scattering in every direction. She could see the person nearest to her struck by some sort of burst of energy as they cried out in pain. They dropped to the ground almost instantly, ensnared in a web of sickly green energy. Claire almost screamed herself, but her throat was too tight to make a sound. She just kept moving, trying to breathe and focus as her legs pumped underneath her. The edge of the treeline was nearby - if she could just make it there, she could maybe climb a tree, or find a hiding place.
As luck would have it, she was quick to find a large boulder on the side of a hill, which provided a small overhang. Scrambling down the hillside, she rushed for the safety of the enclosure, and tried to make herself as small as possible. She listened carefully for the sound of the creatures, replaying her first sight of it in her mind over and over again. It was monstrous, like something out of a nightmare - but it was real. It had been only a few meters from her. A single tear rolled down the side of her face, but she could barely feel it.
She stayed under the rock for hours, not moving, holding her breath. There was never a sound. It was as if she and Dusty were utterly alone, but she knew that thing was out there somewhere, and maybe there were more of them. It took all the strength in her body to uncurl her knees from her chest and finally rise from her hiding position. She retraced her steps towards the road, but she kept herself close to the treeline. Peeking towards the road, she recognized the cars where the incident had taken place. It was devoid of anybody - even the man who had fallen was gone. There was no blood. She wondered if he had been eaten whole. Or perhaps he had been taken alive to be probed. She did not know. All she knew is that she would not be traveling in such an exposed area ever again. There was no other option.
A few days later, it finally happened. She had been asleep in a culvert, keeping off the road unless absolutely necessary. She had started to sleep with an eye and ear open in recent days, ever since the convenience store. Since then her sleeping spots were always more secluded and off the beaten path.
It was late one night when she heard the sound of something moving outside. Her body sprang into action as she tucked herself against the wall of the culvert. There were two entrances, one on each side of the highway, so she needed to keep her eyes out. Whatever she was hearing could come from either direction.
The noise was like that of pistons moving in and out. Servos and gears clicking and whirring. It sounded artificial - more than that, it sounded robotic. But above all, there was a rhythmic clicking of metal against the ground. She had no idea what the source was, but she did not want to find out.
Her pulse raced as the clicking grew louder, and the noise closer. She could hear it begin to emanate from one side of the culvert on her left side. Immediately, she began to slide to the right, staying pressed against the wall so as to avoid being seen.
She could see the exit. Maybe if she climbed back up onto the road just as the creature entered the trench, she could avoid being seen. She hoped.
Exiting the tunnel, she stood in the ditch on the right side of the highway. A narrow stream flowed underfoot, and she took great care to avoid stepping in it and revealing her position. Nonetheless, curiosity gnawed at her, and so she inched back towards the tunnel and peered into the dark.
She could make out what looked like a gigantic spider, finally seeing in its full form the creature from the road a few days prior. This one was green, though it was hard to tell with the hour so late and the sky so dark. It had a similar set of silver blades on its face - giant scissor-like mandibles that glinted in the night sky. It was larger than she was, and struck her as being about the size of a bear. She had seen some at the zoo when she was a child, and they were about as big. At the tip of its narrow, pointed body was a set of glowing red eyes, which, although they were solid red, had a certain color to them that made it clear exactly where the pupil was, and where the creature was looking.
Were she not so terrified, she would have been fascinated by the beast. It seemed to be entirely robotic, covered in pistons and gears that pushed and pulled and spun with every step. Still, she was well aware of the danger it posed, and she knew she had to get out of there as fast as possible.
There was a quiet chirp from next to her. Dusty, looking up at her from inside his cage, meowed.
Claire looked at Dusty and held her breath again.
That screech. That horrifying screech.
Claire did not pause to see whether the spider had seen her or not. There was no point. She ran. Every step she cursed her stupid cat, and she cursed herself for being stupid enough to bring it along. Deep down, she did not blame the cat - it did not understand the grave danger she was in - but in the moment all she felt was anger.
She could see the treeline. It was the same defense she had used before. She only had another few meters to go, and there she would be safe-
There was a feeling as if she had been hit by a truck, which started square in her back and permeated all throughout her body. Her legs immediately gave out from under her as she wondered what in the hell had just happened, before a flash of green light began to surround her. Tendrils of alien energy sparked across her skin like lightning bolts in a summer storm as her bags went spiraling onto the ground. She felt so tired all of the sudden, like her limbs couldn't obey her. She could barely turn her head to see the creature approaching her. It was faster than she could have believed, and it had her square in her sights.
Desperately, she crawled away, but it was as if her limbs had no strength. She could see the treeline in front of her - so close and yet so far. It was hopeless.
Dusty's carrier was on its side - her cat perched awkwardly inside, mewling helplessly.
With as much strength as her body could muster, she reached out a single arm and unlatched the cage. The door fell open.
Dusty stepped out, terrified, and immediately puffed himself up and hissed at the creature. She could hear it still approaching. Dusty began to run, sprinting into the forest.
Her face barely responded, but Claire smiled. She could have wept tears of joy seeing the cat bound away into the trees - into safety. Then everything went black.
Claire awoke in light. Her body felt stiff, immovable, and although she tried to look around, her head could not even move. She looked around in a panic, trying to see what was going on.
She quickly realized that she was suspended in a tree in some sort of sack. It was made of a thick green cable that clung to her like glue, and was wrapped so tightly around her that she could not move. Through a small hole in the wrapping her face, she could see other pods strung up from the trees nearby. There were dozens, maybe even hundreds, and her eyes widened. Between the pods, and the branches of the trees, and covering almost everything in sight, there was a layer of the green ropes that webbed together like a spider's. She could see things moving across the ropes. The creature that had attacked her.
It was not alone. There were groups of them, each scurrying around their pods. She watched a blue one approach one pod, and bite it with its mandibles. The pod began to glow bright green, and, seemingly satisfied, the creature let go and wandered away.
Claire nearly screamed. She had heard about what spiders do to their prey. It was horrible, and she wished with every fiber of her being that something would happen - that she would be able to wiggle free, that the spiders would not notice her, that anything would save her.
There was no help. Despite her thrashing, her pod stayed secure, and she soon grew tired. All she could do was dangle, and wait for death to take her.
Instead, it was a fever.
It began with a chill in her neck that spread throughout her body. She was burning alive, and could feel herself sweating, and yet she felt like she was bathing in ice. She wondered if it was the poison of the creatures taking effect.
Then came the itching. Her entire skin felt wrong. It was like the feeling of rubbing one's hand across a freshly-shaved cheek, and feeling the coarseness of the microscopic and infinitely sharp blades of hair - except every inch of her skin felt this way. She wanted to scream, but her mouth would not open. All of this to her supreme misery, as she began to feel ravenous. She felt that if she could open her mouth, she would chew straight through the web binding her, and eat it.
She felt slimy. Damp. Covered in some sort of liquid that she could not identify. No more was there sweat, there was instead a layer of some unknown fluid that moistened her entire body.
She screamed in pain as her arm reshaped itself. It grew, pushing and pushing against the cocoon she was trapped in, until it violently freed itself from the side. She waved her arms around, trying to claw her way out of her prison, if only to see what was happening to her, but the arm that she saw was not her own. It was long and thin and wiry, with a set of bony fingers at the end, each with a hooked talon-like nail on it. It was the stuff of nightmares.
She was forced to live through the most grueling experience she had ever had as her entire body reshaped itself, and with an incredible burst of energy, she felt the pod burst. She fell through the air, landing with a crash on the ground, but she barely registered it. It was infinitely small compared to the feeling of having her limbs push themselves into new shapes they were never meant to make.
Her hair fell out in patchy clumps, pooling on the ground, and it felt as if her skin was turning inside out. Her legs grew longer and thinner, matching her arms, and she found her foot growing into a third joint, giving her legs like that of a dog or cat.
Her face shifted, with her teeth growing longer and sharper, and her entire head stretched forward. Where once there was a human face, there was now only a rodent-like snout, with a beady nose, and massive bulbous eyes that scanned the area wildly. Her ears flattened to the back of her head, forming triangle-shaped peaks. Only small patches of hair remained, clinging to her slimy skin, which had taken on a rubbery consistency completely unlike what she was used to, dripping with a translucent fluid.
Her back had broken itself in a million different places as her spine adjusted itself to a new addition. A natural extension of bone and muscle, exposed from her body, in a circular shape, like a ring. With a flex, it sprung into position over her head, facing forward like a spotlight, and with another, it seamlessly molded into a recess in her back.
She whimpered, feeling the chills run through her new body, as she finally opened her new eyes. Like a baby, she blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light. New senses that she had never known before filled her brain. She could smell animals in the underbrush, the smell of piss and shit from terrified people strung up in cocoons, the smell of something metal nearby. She could hear the clicking of the spider's legs on the web, the birds in the distance, and every other possible noise that she would never have heard before.
She had become something new. Claire looked at her hands - hands that were hers, but that she had never seen before. She felt only terror. Above her, another pod began to shake, as a sinewy arm burst from it.
The thing that was once Claire let out a howl. The Hordika screamed - and the Visorak joined her. She would not be alone.
KABEI - INDONESIA
Kabei stood confused as the chaos unfurled around him. The ground had stopped rumbling, and the collapse of the mine had just come to an end. Several Primitives who all seemed extremely eager to escape made a run for the treeline, where they were summarily chased by Layamat guards. The sound of crystal rifle fire began to ring out, snapping Kabei to attention.
"No!" he shouted, turning to the nearest Layamat. "Don't shoot them! Take them alive! They're unarmed!"
The Layamat, who had been in the process of lining up a shot on a fleeing slave, turned to Kabei and sneered. Kabei felt a chill run down his spine, but he stood firm. He meant what he had said - the slaves were no threat, and had nowhere to go. They could be rounded up without any bloodshed.
"Go into the forest and get them," Kabei said, in a commanding tone that he did not know he had within him. The Layamat seemed ready to protest, but after a moment, they slung their rifle over their shoulder and began running towards the rest of the guards, passing along a cease-fire order.
Kabei wandered, still in slight shock, towards a small cabin on the edge of the clearing, where he and several other engineers had been working most days. He collapsed into a chair, thinking to himself. One of the Primitives had saved him - dragged him out of the tunnel as it collapsed around them. It had nothing to gain from risking its life in such a way, and yet it chose to help its captor. Kabei wondered why it would ever dream of doing something so illogical. He wondered if he would do the same in their position.
In the cabin stood a single Layamat guard, who kept watch over the overseer team of Kabei and his group of subordinate architects and engineers. Turning to the Layamat, Kabei finally spoke again.
"I need an audience with Makuta Krika."
The Layamat stared blankly, before nodding.
"Yes, sir."
Kabei had never actually seen Krika's ship before. He knew that each of the Makuta had their own flagship, specially designed for them by the most skilled artisans and engineers in the universe - and in fact, he had at least once spoken to the designer of Chirox's ship, the Stealer of Life. Nonetheless, when it came to having seen the ships in person, he had never attended any of the naval parades during his time in the Brotherhood's service.
Finally coming face-to-face with the ship was intimidating. The ship was painted stark white, and lacked a single identifiable source of light. From the distance, the ship seemed like an iceberg floating in the waves, but as the Layamat patrol boat approached the ship, Kabei could see the more identifiable features of the vessel.
A gate opened on the side of the ship, sending an ominous red glow out into the water around it. Kabei held his breath as the patrol boat docked inside the ship, and the door closed behind him. There was no going back now.
Exiting the patrol boat and emerging into the interior hangar space, Kabei came face-to-face with the bladed staff of a Rahkshi. The creature snarled at him, and Kabei threw his hands in the air in surrender. A second Rahkshi soon joined it, and the two took on a flanking position at either side of Kabei.
"You are expected. Follow the Rahkshi," came a voice from a hidden intercom, while a crew of Matoran began to refuel and service the small boat. Kabei nodded, though he immediately chastised himself as the voice on the intercom could likely not see him. Following the instructions, he joined the Rahkshi in a brisk walk through the bowels of the ship.
A short while later, the Rahkshi had guided Kabei to a door on the upper levels of the ship. Standing at either side, Kabei took their meaning and walked through, letting the door shut behind him.
The room was a long and thin meeting room, with a large table in the center. At the far end, most of the wall was covered by a viewport which showed the outside ocean. At the center of the table was a single, ancient, weathered looking tree. Kabei glanced around, and, seeing the room was empty, he approached the table and sat at it. Seconds passed by, and Kabei began to worry as to when the Makuta would join him. His gaze traveled around the room once more, and again landed on the tree. A single leaf seemed to wave with the gusts of air from the ship's ventilation; Kabei watched it detach and fall towards the base of the tree with a graceful slowness. Kabei reached out a cupped hand to catch the falling leaf.
"Do be careful with that. It's an original from Pridak's palace in Romahri. It was lucky to survive the siege."
Kabei spun around, coming face to face with the Makuta's knees.
"My lord Krika, I'm sorry, I did not mean -"
"It's fine. Its purpose is to be admired."
Kabei bowed his head, as Krika circled the table and sat at the other side.
"This is not the first time we have had to meet. What is it this time?"
Kabei swallowed nervously.
"My lord, I…I have questions. About something you have experience in, so, I was hoping you could advise -"
"I hope you do not come to me with questions every time you are in need of advice, but seeing as you are already here, go on."
"It's about the slaves, sir. I've…I've never been in charge of slaves before. I don't know how to treat them."
Krika sighed and slumped into his chair. Kabei could see he had asked a question without an easy answer.
"Kabei… I have been the slavemaster of the Brotherhood for some few years now. Many of the menial tasks that Icarax expects to be done fall upon my shoulders. And from there, they fall upon the shoulders of the hundreds of thousands of beings in this empire. In six years, and with Teridax alone knows how many lives, I have achieved tasks beyond reckoning. All of it, every single moment, has taken but one thing - force."
"Force?"
"Force. It is the universal truth from which all others derive."
"How do - how do you arrive at that conclusion?" Kabei asked.
"It's the truth. Kabei. Stand."
Krika spoke with a strong voice that filled the room, and without a second's hesitation Kabei pushed out of the seat, nearly bumping into the table as he shot upright.
"Why did you stand?" Krika asked, matter of fact.
"B-because you told me to," Kabei stumbled, nervously.
"Yes, I told you to, but why did you listen? Why did you obey?"
Kabei thought, trying to find an answer that wasn't because I thought you would kill me if I didn't.
"It's okay, you can be honest here. We both know why."
"Because I…was scared of the consequences."
"Indeed. Fear pushes you to act. Fear of power. I wield that power. You may sit."
Kabei returned to his seat slowly.
"All of this is to say that power comes from those who wield it. If you do not wield it, others will. I wish it were not so, but history has made it abundantly clear. That is why this ship has guns. That is why this room is guarded by Rahkshi. That is why the Primitives' nearest continent is swarming with Visorak. Fear coerces the unwilling into your will."
"There are Visorak attacking -" Kabei began to ask, before being cut off.
"Yes. Chirox's latest obsession. But they serve as an excellent illustration of my point. In our universe, the Visorak had a reputation that preceded them. There were battles that could be avoided simply by the threat of the Visorak. The Visorak are an instrument of pure terror. They are, in its simplest form, fear. And with fear came peace. Where there would be battles, death, and struggle, there was simply a quiet surrender. Once again - power comes from fear."
"Can't someone have power without fear, though? Can't loyalty be as strong a motivation?"
"Loyalty is transactional, Kabei. Loyalty requires that both parties involved provide the other a service, and do not abuse their commitment. Unfortunately, the average being does not want to spend their day digging a hole in the ground. You abuse their commitment when you force them to do things they do not want to do. Our party receives the service of theirs, but unwillingly. The transaction is unbalanced, and there can be no loyalty."
"With all due respect, my lord, I…I don't think that's true."
Krika raised an eyebrow.
"You would be loyal to one who you cannot trust?"
"I'm…not sure. But I think that slaves have the capacity to work better when they are happier. Just ending the whippings could raise morale, and perhaps that could help to balance the transaction."
"Do you think that treating the slaves better will make them work harder?"
"Won't it?"
"Many of the slaves are the prisoners of islands who did not surrender to us. They have only ever known us as an enemy. Why now would they see us as a friend?"
"They won't ever have the chance if we don't try."
Krika leaned back, and stroked his chin.
"Perhaps. Perhaps."
The room fell into silence.
"I suppose you may test your assumption at your own risk. You are still in charge of the project. I will keep my hands clean of the situation, but I warn you - when, not if, but when you are proven wrong, I shall be there to rule as I have always been forced to. As Pridak did, as Axonn the Despoiler did, as Nektann did - by force."
Kabei nodded understandingly. Krika's logic was sound, but Kabei couldn't help but feel that the Makuta had spent too long too far from the slaves. He had never held the whip in his hand, and Kabei wondered if he was, as a result, blind to the suffering involved. If the Makuta was willing to give Kabei a chance, he was determined to make it count.
"Was that all?" Krika asked, finally.
"Yes, my lord. Thank you for being so understanding," said Kabei, pushing away from the table.
Walking towards the door, Kabei had a sudden thought that stopped him in his tracks.
"My lord…you said Chirox was using Visorak again…"
"Yes, why?"
"Well…I've had some trouble with waste from the excavations. I need some way of disposing of the earth and stone we dig up. I know that Kahgarak have the ability to open a portal to the Field of Shadows; is there any other way? Maybe some Kanohi to give my workers?"
Krika scratched his chin.
"Why not simply use a Kahgarak?" said Krika.
"I - should I, sir? They…I mean, the reputation -"
"You fear them." Krika said. Kabei nodded.
"The stories I've heard, sir…they don't sound like something I want anywhere near my workers. They sound…"
Kabei's voice faded.
"Proceed," said Krika, idly.
"Evil, sir," said Kabei in a whisper. Krika looked down at Kabei from the bridge of his nose.
"Is a tool evil, Kabei?"
"My lord?"
"The Visorak are a tool. In one hand, a sword kills an innocent being. In another, it protects a village. a sword is neither good nor evil, it is the hand that wields it. The Visorak are wielded in Chirox's hands for the time being. They may soon be wielded in yours."
Kabei stayed silent.
"I shall have Chirox send you twenty Kahgarak. According to his bragging, if you feed them, they will multiply. They should be sufficient for your needs."
"T-thank you, my lord," said Kabei, exiting the room finally. As the Rahkshi escorted him back to the hangar, he thought about Krika's words.
I have a chance to make a city that isn't founded on bloodshed. I can make something great, a city where justice and fairness reign, where loyalty rules instead of fear…
As Kabei settled back into the patrol boat, and prepared to cast off back towards the island, he was suddenly filled with glee. He had settled on a name for his city.
"Metru Nuva…" he murmured to himself. He smiled and turned his gaze towards the sky, where he was met by distant pillars of smoke.
A.N. - On hiatus, writing some chapters in advance so I'm not constantly buzzer-beating with my deadlines! Will update soon!