Meanwhile, on Hope.
Kototep read over what he had written, tapping a pen against his face. It made a soft tink of metal on metal as he contemplated what to do.
I really don't know how to make this into a reality. What he had in front of him was an outline of a stage play. It had taken weeks of effort and bouncing ideas off Panaa to even get this far… it was a twisted, convoluted plot with many different characters that all had very different personalities and motivations. Kototep had a character sheet beside him, that he'd used to keep everyone straight.
Now, after creating the outline, he needed to actually write the play. Kototep stared at the page disconsolately. He'd never done an actual stageplay before, he had just played around with poetry. He didn't assume that suddenly jumping into a new craft would be easy, and he loved this outline. It could be something amazing if it was done well. But could he do it well? Kototep had his doubts.
Kototep was getting a good feel for the resources at his disposal, though, and he knew the person to contact was Reinhart. Even before he'd given up his Kingly duties, he'd been a patron of the arts. Now he was devoting himself to nothing else and had already been partially responsible for one very popular piece of entertainment. Kototep was a bit baffled by how short human plays were – only two hours? – but it had been an amazing work of fiction. Surely Reinhart could help him find someone to write and produce it?
Because of his standing as relative to the Phaeron, it was easy enough to arrange a meeting with Reinhart. They met in a beautiful, airy building in a newer section of Hope's Landing. Part of the expansion, Kototep knew that this part of town was for the nouveau riche. It was a bit of a strange choice for someone like Reinhart, who surely had family estates in the oldest, richest part of town. Well, he could just ask.
"Forgive me, why are you here instead of with your family?" Kototep asked, examining Reinhart as he did. His shell was really quite beautiful, a work of art. He had chosen to have the base color of his body be porcelain white, with a simple mask as a face. The lips had been tinted a soft, reddish tone and around his eyes were peacock blue, which matched the color of his flux, which was also a unique shade of blue. On one side of his face, it had been intricately inlaid and decorated with gold in the shape of vines and leaves. Tiny flowers were inlaid in semi-precious and precious stones. The rest of his body continued the theme, with his right-hand side being inlaid with more patterns but the left was bare, a pleasing white space.
"I love my family, I truly do, but my activities now are not conducive to family harmony." Reinhart shrugged, a small roll of his shoulders. "Artists can be quite eccentric and keep extremely odd hours. As I no longer have any need to sleep, I have begun following the same pattern." Ah, that did make sense.
"Well, I was wondering if you could help me with this? I want to create a play of the necrontyr. I have an outline I've written, with the help of Panaa," he said and Reinhart flashed glyphs of interest.
"That sounds fascinating… let's take this to the work room." The work room turned out to be a very nice, open room that had a large table, currently empty. There were works of art leaned against the walls and mirrors on one of the walls, along with some kind of brace? Kototep wasn't sure of the use of it. But he could recognize this was a room devoted to the arts. Setting the pages on the table, Reinhart began taking a look. "Ah, a character sheet, that's helpful…" He set that to one side before going back to the main outline. Kototep felt a bit nervous as Reinhart read it. He thought it was good and Panaa agreed, but would Reinhart think so? The former King read for quite some time, flipping through the sheets.
"Well, that is quite an idea. I can see some issues with it, if you're making it for a human audience." Well, he really wanted to make it for a necron audience. "Do you want to release this on Hope? Or do you want to make a play strictly for necrons?" Hm… well.
"I don't know… what would it entail, making it for humans?" Kototep did enjoy the works of fiction the humans created. Many of them were rather short and could do with being lengthened and fleshed out, but that was just the way of things, humans apparently only had a three-hour attention span. And for serial works of fiction, things with multiple episodes, they required one-hour chunks. It was often very effective at making you long, deeply, for the next episode.
"Well, for human consumption, I think we should make this into a serial show." Ah, Kototep did like that thought. "And that means we would need 'end' points, places where it could be relatively easily broken into seasons. I can see a few already… this spot here, these events, would make a cliffhanger ending. Also, I did have a question about this Mephet'ran character… I quite enjoy the concept of having a fourth wall breaker, but is he meant to be comedic relief? I'm not entirely sure why he suddenly becomes so malicious at points." Kototep stared at him in shock for a moment. He didn't know?
"You don't know of the C'Tan?" Kototep asked, stunned. Reinhart tilted his head to one side, making glyphs of confusion. "They are the Star Gods. Mephet'ran is a real entity, it still exists and it is deadly dangerous." Any necron would instantly know the C'Tan's part in the story would be as an element of sheer, unadulterated malice, no matter how amusing he might sometimes be.
"Tell me more," Reinhart said and Kototep hesitated before explaining a bit about the Star Gods in general, and Mephet'ran in particular. "Ah, I see. His place in this story is like a demon." Kototep thought of explaining that the C'Tan and actual demons were completely the opposite, but then let it pass. In terms of behavior, Reinhart was correct. "I see in the story that he takes on a necrontyr form and sometimes impersonates other characters… so he has many aliases?"
"Oh yes," Kototep confirmed and that seemed to please Reinhart.
"Excellent. To explain this to the human audience, I would suggest an opening soliloquy from Mephet'ran where he introduces himself as having many names, one of them Mephistopheles." Mephistopheles? "That is a fictional demon known to be incredibly subtle and malicious. That will make it clear to the human audience that he is not just an amusing, puckish character. Also, in this opening soliloquy he can perhaps call them all monkeys and tell them they should be aware that this story is a tragedy… I think we should set the expectation from the start that there will not be a happy ending." Reinhart tapped the pages with one finger. "This reminds me of an ancient work called Game of Thrones, but even darker, in many ways." Then he made glyphs of amusement. "Although with far less incest."
"Incest? That is a taboo among our species. Is it not the same with humans?" Kototep asked and Reinhart made another glyph of amusement.
"Oh, of course, that was the point… the characters engaging in it would murder others to hide their vile secret." Ah. That made sense. "You know, I think I know someone who might be interested in writing and producing this. Have you watched the docu-drama When Night Falls?" Kototep flashed glyphs of negation. "Or the fictional serial New Hope?" Oh, he had seen that!
"With the demon hunter? The one that had some necrons in the second and third season? Yes, I remember that." After the monkey god took the jewel, the necrons had departed to try to hunt him down as the human main character remained in New Hope, utterly frustrated by the turn of events. "Oh, it's done now isn't it?" Kototep hadn't watched the final season yet – it wasn't his favorite show – but he'd heard it had ended on an excellent note, with the hero scoring a vast victory over Chaos. Reinhart nodded.
"It is, although some are already speculating that it could pick up again in the future, perhaps even following the adventures of those necrons as they try to locate a Chaos entity… quite a challenge!" Indeed. "For now, though, I believe that the head writer and producer of that work, Jarka Nowak, is available. I'll have to check to be sure but I believe he would be an excellent fit for this project. You know, perhaps you should watch When Night Falls… it is a quasi-historical docu-drama about the life of King Lloyd and his family." That hardly sounded exciting. "He was the King when the drukhari first arrived on Hope." Oh. Well, that actually sounded extremely exciting. "It was critically acclaimed as a work of art, although not terribly popular among the population… the subject matter being too dark for most people." Kototep could see that. But that actually sounded promising.
"This should also be very dark, at points." Kototep had been careful to even it out… he didn't want to create something that was nothing but a slog of misery. There were high points of joy and life, but also deep drops into misery and suffering. And at the end, despite everything, there would be seeds of hope, that a better future was still possible. Reinhart nodded.
"A great many character deaths. I do have one question… what is your budget?" Budget? "Jarka will expect to be paid, and paid handsomely. New Hope was a great success and his star is currently burning bright. Will Phaeron Rahkaak be bankrolling this production?" …erk.
"I… I have not discussed it with her yet. What figure do you think would be appropriate?" Kototep asked, dreading the answer. Reinhart named a figure that made Kototep stagger a bit. "Th-That much?!"
"Possibly more. I am sure he is already being courted by other companies… you do have to understand that all of this money can be returned to you, and more." Eh? "I see you know nothing about the economics of this kind of art." He… he really didn't. Kototep had never made a single penny on his poetry, despite some of it being absolutely excellent and being circulated to other necrontyr worlds. Were you supposed to make money off such things? "We will pay Jarka, as well as all the cast and crew, to create the first season and begin work on the second. That will be our outlay, our initial expense. Then we will auction off the first season to the highest bidder… the better it is, the more promising it is, the more they will pay. Furthermore, there can also be merchandising opportunities… Jarka is extremely good at that, his designs often 'toy well' as they like to say."
"I don't understand. What does 'toy well' mean?" Kototep said, feeling terribly lost. Reinhart paused for a moment, before moving over to a wall where a screen was inset. He gestured to it and it popped up with an image of – what?
"This is the main character of New Hope, as a toy for children." Oh… toys for children? But his work was not – "And this is another toy of him, but meant for adults." The image changed and Kototep could see the distinct change in quality. The second toy appeared to have real leather clothing and intricate details. "Your work is clearly not meant for children, but merchandising tie ins can easily target adults. Toy collectors but not only that, clothing retailers and other goods, like handbags. Clothing tie ins could be particularly lucrative for this project, I think. Necron runes and other designs are already quite popular, clothing inspired by the necrontyr of your story could sell very well." Kototep was realizing he was well out of his realm of competence.
"I hate to impose upon you, but could you help me present this to Phaeron Rahkaak?" Kototep had been planning to just beg her for a bit of money, to make this a reality, but what Reinhart was proposing was a full business plan of a sort that Kototep was just not competent to make. And the amounts in question were much too high for his cousin to just give him some money, she would remonstrate him at the very idea. Reinhart flashed glyphs of pleasure.
"Absolutely! That is what I do… I am not an artist myself, not at all. But I love art and I love to facilitate the creation of it in exactly this way, by bringing together the talent and the finances to make the artwork a reality." Reinhart followed that by a glyph poem speaking of the satisfaction of a job well done. Kototep found it entrancing. "I will reach out to Jarka with this outline and see what his reaction is. Depending on his response, I will begin putting together the business case for Rahkaak… it would be ideal if she funded it, particularly because of the portion that will not generate a return. By that I mean, you would wish a second play written? One designed to be done in a single session, by necron actors, in Mandragora?"
"Oh, yes, that's true. So we would essentially need two different plays?" Kototep asked and Reinhart nodded.
"Closely related and not as much work as two fully separate plays, but yes. One broken up and divided, with slightly different events to create the tension needed. The other a single work that can be performed without pause. I think Jarka might enjoy this challenge." It would certainly be different for him since human plays did not work like that. "Of course, he will expect to be paid for that and as far as I know, there is no way to monetize such a work."
"Not now at least," Kototep said absently, thinking about it. "I wonder if we could in the future?" Would re-igniting the art and culture of the necrontyr also mean monetizing it? Could they CHARGE other Dynasties for this great work? They would provide it for free to Sautekh of course, but if someone like Trazyn wanted it, could they get something FROM him? Could they even make some kind of permanent arrangement with the master of Solemnance? "I wonder…" Could this even be used for political leverage?
"You wonder what?" Reinhart asked and Kototep hesitated before explaining his thoughts. "Hm… I know nothing of that, but I will include that speculation in my case for Rahkaak." Excellent! "This will likely take me weeks. While I am doing that, could you perhaps work on concept art?" Eh? "By that I mean, could you take Panaa and perhaps the others to another sketch artist? We need details of what necrontyr clothing and architecture looked like. Anything you can get would be helpful."
"I would be pleased to do so," Kototep said, glad he could make a contribution. And necrontyr clothing, that would be truly excellent to get images of. He vaguely remembered pleated linen and filmy gowns, but it was so hard to recall. As a woman, Panaa would surely remember more. Although they could easily take some liberties with that… the necrontyr empire had spanned almost the entire galaxy, Kototep was certain fashions had varied wildly between worlds and Dynasties.
Taking his leave, Kototep pondered what he'd learned today. He was glad he hadn't just tried to do it himself… he clearly had no idea what was entailed in such things. Could he learn though? Perhaps he could watch this Jarka and see how he practiced his craft. Back in the Flesh Times, there had been so many wonderful playwrights, but they were all gone now.
Kototep had no idea if he could broaden his skills from poet to playwright, but he wanted to try.
Lindi exited the troop transport, wincing a little as her body twinged. It was a lingering effect not from her injuries, but the Blackstone that had been installed in her body. Lindi had been amazed at the change… she hadn't even really been aware of her meagre psyker gifts, so paltry that not even the Black Ships could be bothered. But there had always been a whispering at the edge of her mind. Lindi had just thought it was normal, that everyone heard that, until the blackstone suddenly made it vanish.
(Lindi was actually correct that most humans in the Imperium of Man heard that. They were baseline more psychically active than their cousins from Hope)
Lindi moved to the side, letting the soldiers pass her by as she looked around curiously. She had seen a bit coming in and more now… this city was huge, much grander than the capital of Luminous. Lindi had never seen a city this large and technologically advanced, and felt like she was seeing something close to Terra. It was overwhelming and she looked for Reinhart. Manric had described him as a very dark skinned old man, with cybernetic implants for eyes. Lindi hadn't mentioned it to Manric – he reminded her of some social workers she'd met, the really nice ones – but she fully intended to see if she could seduce this Reinhart. She would do anything to make her position here more secure. Anything.
Alas, that proved to be impossible.
"Are you Lindi?" She almost flinched as the strange robot addressed her before swallowing hard and looking at it squarely. Lindi almost found it more disturbing then Manric, because he was so obviously xenos and this… wasn't. This thing reminded her of an animated doll from that ancient genre of horror. A very finely made porcelain doll, gorgeously decorated and animated by some alien force. Intellectually, Lindi knew it was just fine machinery but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was something unholy and dangerous. "Does my appearance disturb you? I am Reinhart." That made her stare.
"You… you are?" This wasn't what Manric had described at all! Was he lying to her? Eyes of blue fire just looked at her in a face that could show no expression.
"Oh, of course. Manric hasn't heard that I took biotransference, or possibly he just forgot. Yes child, I am Reinhart." Child? "I had too many health issues, I decided to discard my body in favor of this. I find it to be a most pleasant change… you'll understand when you're older and every part of your body hurts, particularly when you try to get up in the morning." He was starting to sound like that old mutant who begged for coins from the soldiers, he was always complaining about his aches. "Please, come this way." Lindi hesitated a moment but then followed. As uncanny as Reinhart was, he was the only thing she had here.
They boarded a private glideship and Reinhart settled in the cushions across from her. Lindi glanced around, impressed by the size of the glideship… this was the kind of thing she had been on just once in her life. That wasn't a pleasant memory but it had paid extremely well and Lindi wondered if there was a bar.
"Would you like a drink?" Oh, there was! Lindi nodded and Reinhart gestured and a little door opened, revealing an assortment of bottles. Lindi didn't recognize anything and she couldn't read them – what language was that? – so she selected one at random. "I'm told you have started learning Terran?" Oh, of course, that was the language on the bottles.
"I've just started, I'm not very good yet," Lindi said although she was sure she would get better rapidly, surrounded by those who spoke nothing else. Reinhart nodded.
"I see… we can continue with this language for now, but we will start using Terran soon." Yes, she would need to get used to it.
The glideship brought them to a mansion grander than anything Lindi had seen in her life. It was an open and airy structure with large windows, made out of grey stone. Lindi was in awe at the size of it. It looked like it could fit six families! And all this space was for just one person?
Well, as she quickly realized, not exactly.
"Grandfather, who is this?" Lindi had to struggle to understand the language as a young and very beautiful man holding a strange looking, swirled stick. It was pink and blue and white and looked almost like blown glass but Lindi was sure it wasn't, when he brought it to his lips and breathed something in. Was it a drug? His skin was even darker than most Hopians and his hair was a thick curtain of sable, falling straight almost to his waist. It was his face that was beautiful… Lindi admired his features, in a detached sort of way. He looked so young, perhaps just fifteen, and he had a kind of androgynous beauty that was incredibly appealing. He would have fetched a fine penny on the streets.
"This is Lindi. Lindi, this is my wastrel grandson, Adler. Do not let his face fool you, the wretch is in his twenties," Reinhart sounded less than impressed, even with his artificial voice and Lindi blinked. Twenties? Really? Adler rolled his eyes, which were dark brown.
"Father, must you? If I seem to be cursed to look like a boy forever, at least let me enjoy it," he said mildly before taking another hit from his stick. Then he stared at her with frank interest. "Lindi, what a lovely name. And that hair, what is that? Prosthetics?"
"No, she is from the Imperium of Man. It is a mutation," Reinhart said as Lindi winced. Then there was the sound of distant laughter. "Are you hosting another party? My home and place of business is not your private opium den!" Oh, he was running a business out of this home? That did make more sense of the size. His grandson waved the accusation away.
"This early in the day? Even we have some decency. We're actually having a bit of a jam session. I suppose I should get back at it, if you don't mind?" Reinhart nodded and Adler vanished back into the mansion.
"Sometimes, I regret that military service is no longer mandatory. Although he is at least extremely talented, a fine actor. I think he might make an excellent Mephistopheles…" Who? "Nevermind, that's just another project I'm working on. Let me get you settled in." Reinhart led her through the home and Lindi goggled a bit at how luxurious it was. Not that it was excessive or tacky, but this was the kind of place she only vaguely remembered, from when she had been a small child.
Her own room in this place almost made her cry because it also reminded her of that long ago time. It was a spacious bedroom with a four-poster bed. The bed had a beautifully carved headboard, that featured what looked like Imperial saints, women with wings. Lindi knew they were actually not – these people did not follow the Imperial Creed – but the images were still familiar. The rest of the room had two large window/doors that could be opened to go into the patio. They also had curtains that could be closed for privacy. There was a walk-in closet, currently empty, and a nice little desk with a chair that could be used for reading and writing. It was also beautifully carved, a work of art.
"I assume this will be suitable?" Lindi nodded, a bit speechless. "Tomorrow we can see about getting you a wardrobe. For now, I have a few things in the closet, from my granddaughters. Hopefully some of it will fit, they are a bit shorter than you, alas. Would you prefer to join us for lunch?" That made her remember that her last meal had been some time ago. "Or would you rather have it here?"
"Could I have it here? If you don't mind?" Lindi asked hopefully. She just wanted some time to be alone, it had been a long trip with rowdy soldiers. They had been completely polite in how they treated her, knowing she was off limits, but it hadn't stopped them from trying to chat her up. Lindi hadn't minded it at all but she was still very tired. Reinhart nodded.
"It is no problem at all. I will consult with the kitchen, but I believe today we have roasted fish with rice." Oh, that would be lovely. Reinhart left and Lindi settled into the bed with a sigh, to have a small nap.
When the food arrived, she was fast asleep.