Worldwar:
Balancing act
Chapter 03
The alarm clock hissed loudly, telling Pesskrag it was time to leave her bed and begin the day. The clock did not complete it's third hiss before Pesskrag reached out and pressed the button to silence the alarm, she was already awake, and had been for some time, alternating between tossing and turning, trying to get back to sleep and staring at the clock with one eye-turret, watching time slowly pass. She had struggled to sleep properly ever since she came aboard the Sherran's band, at first she thought she was struggling to adjust the microgravity environment she and the rest of the crew were subjected to during the journey from low-Home orbit to the fourth point, however she stopped noticing any discomfort from the lack of gravity by her third day of travel, yet sleep still managed to elude her.
Her finger claw caught on the inside of the alarm clock button as she tried to sit up, it clattered to floor, slower than she would have expected, the Sherran's band was currently spinning at a quarter of the speed it would need to simulate gravity equal to that found on the surface of Home. Hissing some choice words she would be reluctant to utter in front of the emperor, even at his direct order, she got out of bed, returned the alarm clock to its rightful place on her nightstand and began to apply her bodypaint.
The emperor had personally instructed her to begin wearing the bodypaint of a senior physicist, not long after she was placed in charge of developing technology that would allow The Race to travel faster than the speed of light. What should have been an immense honor was tainted by the fact her task was to consign the ancient tradition of slow, incremental change to the refuse pile of history. She had already made more scientific progress than would have been expected from several generations of researchers before wild Tosevites hade arrived in orbit around Home under their own power, now she had to push The Race to make progress in leaps and bounds, without the luxury of taking the time to look first.
After she finished applying her bodypaint, Pesskrag made her way to the refectory to eat before she began her day proper. She struggled to concentrate on her food, partly because she had haphazardly assembled an abomination of a salad on her plate while still groggy from her lack of sleep and partly due to anxiety over what awaited her once she finished eating, the starship had arrived at its destination and was ready for Pesskrag to begin her experiments, today was the designated day for her to begin.
Shiplord Dezzin, the male who commanded the Sherran's band, entered the refectory while Pesskrag was slowly picking at her food. She did her best to sink into the corner where she was sat in an attempt to avoid his gaze. It didn't work, he spotted her as soon as he had chosen what to have for his morning meal and strode over to her with haste.
"Good morning, senior researcher. I hope you are well, we have a big day today!" Dezzin said cheerfully. Pesskrag couldn't hope to match his eagerness at that moment if her life depended on it.
"Good morning shiplord, we certainly do have some important business today," Pesskrag forced herself to reply. "I will admit, I have been anxious about today for some time."
Dezzin seemed to not understand her tone as he continued, "I am anxious to get started as well, I don't understand the science behind what we are trying to accomplish here as fully as I would like, I hope once the experiments are underway it becomes more clear."
Pesskrag pushed away her plate, certain that her appetite was gone for good. "Would you like me to explain the concept again, shiplord?"
Dezzin made the affirmative gesture "Please do, senior researcher, I may not be a scientist, but I will do my best to understand. Your work is critical to the security of The Empire, so the emperor has decreed." Both Dezzin and Pesskrag briefly turned their eye-turrets to the floor at the mention of the emperor.
"Very well, I will explain as best as I can as simply as I can." Pesskrag said. "The Tosevites posses technology that allows them to manipulate the universe at the fundamental level, they use this technology to temporarily make two distant points become adjacent. They use this technology to travel between the stars much faster than we do travelling the full distance at half the speed of light."
Dezzin had both eye-turrets firmly fixed on Pesskrag. "Please continue." He instructed.
Continue Pesskrag did. "We are still learning how to replicate this feat at the scale needed to move objects the size of a starship. The laboratory build aboard this ship contains the apparatus needed to manipulate space the way the Tosevites do, we test how well this works by firing a beam of skelkwank light towards a reflective surface, the beam bounces back towards a detector which measures how long the beam took to make the journey. When the space manipulating apparatus is activated, we should detect a decrease in the length of time it takes for the beam to reach the deflector."
Dezzin considered what Pesskrag said for a moment before asking, "This works because the speed of light is constant, correct? The length of time it takes to detect the reflected beam should only change if the distance it has to travel changes?"
"Exactly so, shiplord." Pesskrag replied. "First though, we are going to calibrate the detector while simulating different levels of gravity in increments equal to one twentieth the surface gravity of Home, in order to verify that the spinning of the starship does not impact the results of the experiment."
"It would be preferable to operate in normal gravity, but if we must we can operate without it." Dezzin said. "How long will the calibrations take?"
"Under normal circumstances, these calibrations would take my entire career." Pesskrag answered completely earnestly. "The calibrations would be extremely thorough, the bespoke apparatus the skelkwank emitter and detector are mounted on that extends to give proper clearance between the starship hull and the path of the beam would take ten years to design, never mind the critical components of the space manipulating apparatus." Pesskrag paused for a moment to take a deep breath. "But we don't have the luxury of doing things properly, the schedule set for today includes not only all of the calibrations but also up to two preliminary tests of the space manipulating apparatus to ensure it has not sustained damage during our journey from Home orbit. That would not have been necessary under normal cicrumstances, but the laboratory was built hastily, there may be design flaws that have to be compensated for instead of being adressed before construction." It wasn't until she stopped speaking that she noticed she was shaking, a couple of the males and females in the refectory that were sitting nearby had turned an eye-turret towards her.
Dezzin looked at Pesskrag with a small degree of concern. "I think I am beginning to understand your recent distress. That the Tosevties are in possession of technology more advanced than ours, and have been for thirty years is a dire emergency. This is obvious to eveyone across the entire empire, but the extreme measures we are taking are extremely alarming! If more of the general public understood this, I believe there would be mass panic!"
"That sort of chaos is exactly why change is supposed to be incremental." Pesskrag said glumly. "We may tear ourselves apart trying to match the Tosevites before they get the chance to do it themselves."
Dezzin barely managed to suppress a panicked hiss, then muttered, "Truth. Shall we begin work?"
Pesskrag made the affirmative gesture, the pair proceeded to the laboratory. Most of the subordinate scientists had arrived before her and had already started preparing to begin the experiments. As she watched them going about their work, she began to feel a different kind of unease. Certain pieces of equipment were bolted down in a way that made them less than perfectly convenient to access, some cabinet doors would noisily rattle against each other if they had to be opened at the same time, and one particular high traffic path through the laboratory was just narrow enough that two individuals passing each other would have to squeeze past carefully.
Unrefined Pesskrag thought with disgust. The laboratory had been designed and built quickly, only a few revisions were made before construction began. Another casualty of rapid progress.
Pesskrag took her position at her work station, over the intercom, Shiplord Dezzin issued the order to cease the spinning of the starship. A short while later, Pesskrag began to feel herself become lighter and lighter until she was completely weightless.
"I am activating the skelkwank emitter... now." Pesskrag said as she slid her fingerclaw into the control.
The data collected from the detector came in quickly, Pesskrag studied it carefully while the entire laboratory waited in silence. After a period of time that surely felt much longer than it really was, she addressed the others.
"We are slightly outside of specification, Vazzik, I believe this can be corrected from your station. Study the data from this first test carefully and make the necessary adjustments." Pesskrag instructed.
"It shall be done, superior female." Vazzik replied dutifully. He made the required adjustments quickly, it was not long before Pesskrag began the second test. As before, the data from the detector came in quickly and Pesskrag studied it carefully. Once she had checked all of the data, she thoroughly checked it again. She checked it a third time before declaring "We are within specification."
Shiplord Dezzin asked. "Do you want the ship brought to the first gravity increment?"
Pesskrag made the affirmative gesture, Dezzin pushed himself back to the intercom and gave the order to start the starship spinning again. Pesskrag slowly drifted back down into her seat. The force of one twentieth of Home's surface gravity felt incredibly weak (even compared to the quarter force she had experienced recently) but was still noticeable. After conformation that the starship was spinning at the correct speed, the experiments resumed. The first test conducted while the ship was spinning produced results within specification, gravity was increased from one twentieth to one tenth and again the data was within specification. Every five percent increase in the effective gravity aboard the Sherran's band proved to have no effect on the reliability of the skelkwank emitter and detector. The scientists paused experimentation after reaching sixty five percent of Home's surface gravity so they could go to the refectory for their midday meals. Pesskrag found that she was able to enjoy her food now, the routine she and her team had developed during their morning work had calmed her significantly. Once she returned to the laboratory she rechecked the data from the most recent test to make sure the distraction of hunger had not caused her to overlook anything important.
Satisfied that everything was in order, she said to the rest of the laboratory. "Let us resume work, it seems like we will have a productive day today." A few of the scientists responded 'Truth!' as Pesskrag restarted the skelkwank emitter.
The afternoons work proceeded much like the mornings work, Once Pesskrag confirmed that the skelkwank apparatus was not negatively affected by the starship spinning, several hisses of relief were let out. Microgravity, while not generally uncomfortable for members of The Race, was inconvenient in the long term.
"This is good news." Pesskrag agreed. "Tomorrow we will begin experiments using space manipulating apparatus."
Shiplord Dezzin was quick to interject. "Senior researcher, we still have most of a day-tenth before the refectory will begin serving evening meals, I believe the emperor would want us to continue with at least one experiment with the manipulating apparatus."
Pesskrag suppressed a sigh, "I must admit Shiplord, you are correct. We shall proceed with the first experiment that would otherwise have been done tomorrow." She turned to speak to her subordinate scientists. "prepare to decrease the distance the skelkwank beam has to travel by one fifth of one percent, it may seem like a small change, but given the length of the starship this will be the most extreme test carried out by The Empire." She added that last part for Dezzin's benefit, it would be obvious to the other scientists that the test was extreme, Dezzin however, was not a scientist.
Once the apparatus was ready, every eye-turret in the laboratory swung towards pesskrag. She slid her fingerclaw into the control one more time and the skelkwank emitter activated. Pesskrag started studying the data as it reached her computer terminal. Panic and anxiety took hold of her again as she began double checking and triple checking the information in front of her. Halfway through the quadruple check, she dismissed the rest of the scientists in the laboratory. It was not until her stomach began to roar at her that she noticed that Dezzin had remained.
"Senior researcher, you are worrying me." Dezzin said with a tone suggesting he was more than just worried. "What happened with the experiment?"
Pesskrag was silent for longer than she should have been, eventually she spoke. "Ten percent. The path of the skelkwank beam was supposed to decrease by one fifth of one percent. It was decreased by fifty times that amount."
Dezzin hissed with surprise. "Surely this is a good thing? At this rate, we will be able to travel between the stars like the Tosevites in just a few years." Pesskrag almost fell from her seat when she heard that comment. It would be a while before she was calm enough to properly enjoy a meal again.
Looking around the kitchen, Ruth Russie observed that she had made more of a mess than she thought she had, and much more of a mess than she intended. Squeezing starch out of grated potatoes wasn't something she had much practice at since she became estranged from the rest of her family, but the smell brought beck memories from her youth. She was surprised at how quickly they came back. As she mixed in the flour and eggs, Ruth made a mental note to not tell Kvess, who had asked to try them, how latkes were made. A hatchling of The Race was liable to become rather upset at the thought of eating eggs, some adult members of The Race were not particularly fond of eggs either. Shaping the mixture into individual pancakes proved more difficult than Ruth remembered her parents making it look, with some concern she considered the possibility that she made a few errors while determining the ratios of ingredients she had to use, her mother would have been unimpressed.
Ruth carefully placed the uncooked latkes in the frying pan, having had the forethought to preheat the oil, it was already hot enough to begin cooking immediately. Despite the care she took placing the latkes down, a drop of hot oil splashed onto her hand. Wincing, she pulled it away from the pan and shook it vigorously.
" By the Emperor!" Ruth cursed, briefly glancing at the floor as she invoked her sovereign. The pain from the burn was intense, though it did begin to fade quickly. As the latkes cooked, she paused to take in another familiar smell. While she no longer followed the Jewish superstition that she was raised in, she did still miss celebrating Passover with her family. She sighed, her parents would be horrified at the female she had become. She was already a pariah for continuing to associate with Fatimah after her grandfather was killed, Ruth shuddered at the thought of how her family would react if they ever learned she and Fatimah mated and gave reverence to the spirits of emperors past together.
She did her best to put the thoughts of her family out of her mind, concentrating on turning the sizzling potato pancakes while keeping them intact. The first stayed intact, though Ruth's pride was tempered by the fact that it was undercooked. A small piece broke off when she flipped it back over, after a moment of grumbling, Ruth tried turning the latkes again. One broke cleanly in half, the rest stayed intact, an overwhelming success.
The fragment that broke from the latke that was flipped prematurely finished cooking first, Ruth took it from the pan, let it rest while the others finished cooking and ate it once it was cool. It did not taste quite right, tolerable but not the way she remembered from her hatchlinghood, not the most accurate term for that part of her life, but she much preferred to use the language of The Race over her native Tosevite language where she could. Unfortunately, she was forced to switch languages when The Race did not have the word she needed.
Ruth heard the front door open and close, keys jingled as they were tossed into the plastic bowl on the living room table.
"Fatimah, is that you? Did you find the wine Ttenniv said she likes?" Ruth called out from the kitchen."
"Of course it's me, who else would it be?" Fatimah called back as she made her way to the kitchen and gave Ruth a peck on the cheek. "And yes, I found the wine. Plucked straight from the bowels of the wine mines of Argentina." Fatimah chuckled at her own wit.
"Don't be foolish, everybody knows wine is quarried, not mined!" Ruth jibed back. "You were out for a while, did you go all the way to Argentina to get it yourself?"
"I may as well have, three different supermarkets I checked did not have it in stock, eventually I found it in the Jewish grocery store by the train station." Fatimah replied "They had it in a refrigerator, we will have to let it warm up before she drinks it."
"You found it in a Jewish grocery store, is it kosher wine? How did Ttenniv end up drinking kosher wine?" Ruth asked.
"I have no idea if it is kosher wine, the label is entirely written in the language of The Race and it doesn't say it is." Fatimah replied, before asking, "Speaking of kosher, how are the Latkes coming along?"
"Well, my mother would be unimpressed, but I think they will do." Ruth answered as she took the latkes from the pan and placed them on a mesh rack to stand.
"I don't think your mother would be impressed by much of anything that happens in this apartment." Fatimah jibed.
Ruth gave her a sharp look for a moment before conceding the point with a laugh. "I suppose you are right. I will tell you this though, if Kvess doesn't eat any of these, I will not be a happy female." She tacked on an emphatic cough.
"I'm sure if you get your hands on her, Kvess will not be a happy female either!" Fatimah added her own emphatic cough and began to pack a hamper with some chilled meats from the refrigerator, as well as various alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages. Ruth transferred the latkes to a plastic container and the two female Tosevites left their apartment.
Out on the streets of Jerusalem, vehicles of wild Tosevite make and those manufactured by The Race honked and hissed at each other as traffic slowly trickled through the city. In spite of the superior civic engineering of The Race, Jerusalem had never been fully redeveloped to the standards of the other worlds of The Empire, even minor redevelopment proposals for the so-called old town (by the standards of The Empire, no structure on Tosev III was considered old) caused the local uncultured Tosevites to riot violently. Seeing the state of traffic, Ruth and Fatimah were glad they had decided to walk to their destination, a nearby park, rather than take their Renault. Ergonomic considerations forced the pair to drive an automobile made in one of the Tosevite not-empires, though they would have much preferred the more reliable machines of The Race. Walking right now also meant they would not have to retrieve the Renault tomorrow, given the amount of alcohol they were expecting at the park, neither Tosevite would be in a fit state to drive by evening.
Ruth and Fatimah were among the last to arrive, Kassquit and Kvess were rolling around in the sand, an older male hatchling was standing nearby, trying and failing to entice them with a game of longball. Several adult males and females of The Race were sitting at a table on the paved section of the park, they had already started drinking. The smell of cooked meat was wafting from a grill on the other side of the table, crewed by Ttenniv and an elderly male of The Race sitting in a wheelchair.
"Fatimah, Ruth! It is good to see you are finally here!" Ttenniv called out, beckoning the pair over.
"It is good to see you too, Ttenniv." Fatimah replied. "You are most gracious for inviting us!" She continued, adding an emphatic cough.
Ttenniv made the negative gesture. "Nonsense, it is not everyday all of our schedules align to let us spend time together. We would all have to be addled to have not invited the two of you."
"We were able to find that wine you said you liked, it was in the chilled section of a Tosevite store, but it should reach the right temperature for you soon, especially in this sunshine." Ruth said as she took the wine in question from the hamper Fatimah was carrying. Ttenniv accepted the bottle with a quiet hiss of excitement.
"Speaking of chilled, we have some drinks ready for you here." Said the elderly male of The Race as he eased himself out of his wheelchair and shuffled over to a large portable cooler. "There should be space in here for any food you brought with you until we are ready to cook it. My name is Rdexx, by the way. I do not believe we have met."
"I greet you, small-unit group leader Rdexx." Fatimah said, eyeing his bodypaint. "If you do not mind me asking, did you come to Tosev III with the conquest fleet?"
Rdexx let his lower jaw drop open in laughter and made the negative gesture. "No, no, I'm not quite that old. I arrived with the colonization fleet." He answered, passing two beers from the cooler to Ruth and Fatimah and shuffling back to his wheelchair as he spoke.
"I came to Tosev III to instruct Tosevites in the ways of The Race, to begin bringing this world fully into The Empire." Rdexx explained, "Of course, when we arrived, Tosev III was not what we expected. Not many teachers like me were needed, more soldiers were needed instead. I became an infantrymale just in time to fight the Deutsch."
Ruth took a large gulp from her drink before interjecting, "My ancestors escaped from the Deutsch thanks to The Race. If the conquest fleet had not arrived when it did, I would not be here."
"The wild Tosevites are savages, the Deutsch may very well be the worst." Rdexx turned one eye-turret towards Ruth and the other towards Fatimah. "Fighting the Deutsch made the think there would never be many cultured Tosevites like the two of you. I am glad I have lived to see I was wrong."
At that moment, Ttenniv called out, "Spiced Azwaca cutlets are ready! Who wanted spiced Azwaca?"
A couple of people at the table called back in the affirmative, as did Kassquit, who broke away from Kvess and skittered over to sit at the table. Kvess ignored the spiced Azwaca and approached the two Tosevites instead.
"I greet you, superior Tosevites. Are you going to have spiced Azwaca cutlets?" Kvess asked. "Ttenniv said they are ready."
"Perhaps later." Fatimah answered. "It looks like Rdexx is cooking some pork chops now, I think I will have one of them." She looked over to Rdexx, who returned her gaze and made the affirmative gesture.
Ruth knelt down beside Kvess and presented the plastic container with the latkes inside. "Do you remember a little while ago when you asked me what my favorite food was when I was a hatchling?" Ruth paused for Kvess to answer yes before continuing. "Well, I have brought some for you to try."
Ruth opened the container, took out one half of the broken latke and presented it to Kvess. The hatchling accepted it and examined it briefly, decided it was edible and disposed of it with a couple of quick bites.
"Do you like it?" Fatimah asked over Ruth's shoulder.
"I like it, but I think a Tosevite hatchling would like it more." Kvess answered.
"Perhaps it will taste better to you with this." Ruth suggested as she retrieved some smoked salmon slices from the cooler. She wrapped the other half of the broken latke in a slice of salmon and gave it to Kvess. The hatchling devoured this one with the same speed as she did before. When she finished she began running in a small circle, letting out hisses and pops of joy.
Ruth scooped up Kvess and brought her to the table. Kvess settled on the Tosevites knee while the adults around her chatted. Fatimah squeezed in tightly beside Ruth, the table was slightly undersized for the pair but not enough to be uncomfortable.
The male hatchling that tried to play longball with Kvess and Kassquit earlier brought Fatimah a pork chop. "I greet you, superior female. Rdexx asked me to bring this to you. Would you like another one of your cold Tosevite drinks?"
"Thank you for bringing this to me, yes I would like another drink very much." Fatimah replied. "Would you be so kind as to bring Ruth here another drink too?"
"It shall be done, superior female." The hatchling said as he skittered back over to the cooler and returned with two beers.
"Kvess, do you want to play longball now?" The male hatchling asked.
"Perhaps later, Shpekk. I am eating this Tosevite food superior Ruth made." Kvess replied before turning her eye-turrets up to Ruth. "Did your hatchling civilizer teach you how to make these?" She asked, holding up a half-eaten latke.
Ruth chuckled softly. "Tosevites are not raised by hatchling civilizers, we civilize our own hatchlings. The female who laid my egg taught me how to make them."
Kvess considered that for a moment, then asked, "Will you teach your hatchlings how to make them?"
Ruth looked over at Fatimah, who was looking back with an alarmed expression on her face that Ruth shared. Neither Tosevite wanted to explain why they were not likely to produce hatchlings, even ignoring the fact that 'hatchling' was not an accurate way of describing Tosevite young. Eventually, Ruth looked down at Kvess and said, "I probably would, Kvess. I probably would."
Keeping up with the rest of her unit did not allow Vorriv to trudge down the street, as would befit her current mood. Guarding an artillery test firing range in the northern latitudes of Halless I may be unpleasantly chilly, but at least came with the entertainment of shells exploding in the distance as soldiers trained in the use of heavy ordinance. Patrolling the towns and cities of the surrounding region from sunrise to sunset was just as cold as the range but infinitely more boring.
"Stay sharp everyone, civilians will be waking up and beginning their commutes soon. It is about to be much busier than it is right now, we don't want to allow anything important to escape our notice." Kedepp, the commanding officer of the patrol, ordered.
Vorriv kept her thoughts about Kedepp to herself, at least for the moment. It grated on her that Kedepp conducted himself in a manner that suggested he expected something to happen that might require soldiers of The Empire to intervene. The most dangerous situation Vorriv had encountered while on patrol was an argument between two Hallessi over a parking dispute that escalated into a shoving match, a situation which was resolved when she admonished them for their appalling behavior. She did not need her rifle to do that.
An Infantrymale by the name of Yerret decided he was going ask what Vorriv was thinking, "What do you think might happen that would require our attention, superior sir?"
Kedepp seemed to do his best impression of a male who knew what he was talking about, "Criminal networks that cultivate and distribute the accursed Tosevite herb have been known to engage in violence to achieve their goals. Many such groups are suspected of operating in this region."
"With all due respect, superior sir," Vorriv began, deciding she had to speak up. "That sounds like a matter for law enforcement, not a military matter."
"If the Tosevites are involved, it is a military matter." Kedepp replied. "Fleetlord Fesstrev has declared that Tosevite complicity in the ginger trade on Halless I will be considered an act of war. They would do well to remember that, and so would you, Infantryfemale Vorriv."
Vorriv wanted to point out that the nearest Tosevite that wasn't in orbit would need the better part of a days travel to reach the patrol, but she refrained. Kedepp would likely dismiss that fact as irrelevant, or subject her to disciplinary procedures for failing to behave in a properly subordinate manner. The penalty for such an infraction was not as severe as the penalty for tasting ginger, nevertheless, Vorriv wanted to avoid the disgrace of adding the green bands of punishment to her bodypaint. She remained silent and marched on with the others.
Kedepp did turn out to be correct about one thing, the streets were no longer empty. More and more people awoke and began their days, most of them were smart enough to give way and allow the soldiers to pass, some though were either too stupid to think of this on their own or too oblivious to notice the armed patrol. This did nothing to improve Vorriv's mood, when she encountered a Halless who seemed determined to not look in the direction in which he was walking.
"Move out of the way, you egg-addled male!" Vorriv screamed at the inattentive Halless. She noticed he was wearing the bodypaint of a graphic designer. "You do not need to obstruct the soldiers of The Empire to draw an advertisement banner!" She tacked on an emphatic cough as derisively as she could.
The Halless turned his eye-stalks in Vorriv's direction and hissed in panic when he noticed the patrol. "Soldiers! Are the Tosevites attacking? where are they?" He spluttered, barely managing to choke out an interrogative cough at the end of his sentence.
"Do not be foolish. There are no Tosevites anywhere near here." Vorriv answered. "Believe me, if the Tosevites were attacking, you would- "
Her thought was interrupted by a thunderous crash behind her. The Halless hissed in panic again and fled as the sound of breaking glass and metal scraping on metal filled the air. Vorriv turned and saw two vehicles had collided at an intersection, one of the vehicles hit a street lamp afterwards and knocked it over. The soldiers in the patrol all remained calm, however everyone else on the street reacted much in the same way as the Hallessi graphic designer did, panicked cries of by the Emperor! sent eye-turrets and eye stalks turning downwards.
Kedepp began to give orders to the soldiers under his command. "Yerret, Vorriv, go and tend to the injured drivers. Gestikk, radio a medical team and tell them we have a traffic accident. Everyone else, clear civilians out of the area and secure a perimeter." He added an emphatic cough and began directing confused civilians away from the crash.
Vorriv dutifully obeyed, she and Yerret approached the crash with caution. The pair were within a few strides of the closer vehicle when Vorriv noticed Yerret had adopted a slightly more erect posture than usual, she turned an eye-turret towards him and noticed his crest was beginning to rise.
"Yerret, stop!" Vorriv shouted. "You look like you are smelling the pheremones of a female, one of the drivers must have been tasting ginger. Go and tell small-unit group leader Kedepp, then send another female to assist me."
Yerret hesitated, keeping one eye-turret pointed towards the wrecks while he processed what Vorriv had said. "Yes... that would be the best course of action." He muttered before skittering back.
The driver of the closer vehicle, a male of The Race, was passing in and out of consciousness. The other vehicle struck his right on the door to the drivers seat, causing him to suffer a broken arm, severe bruising and several lacerations to one side of his body. The smell of blood was beginning to fill the air. Vorriv began tending to his wounds, bandaging the more serious bleeding cuts before applying a splint. The male was roused by the pain of Vorriv moving his arm, he let out a sharp hiss, his crest began to flutter.
"Is... is it mating season? I... I... I think I feel like mating. Are we mating?" The males breathing was gradually becoming more labored as he spoke. Fortunately, he did not appear to bring up any blood when he used the interrogative cough.
"No, the pheremones you can smell are from a female who has been tasting ginger." Vorriv turned an eye-turret towards the other vehicle, the other driver was not as badly hurt. She was screaming incoherent abuse, seemingly directed towards the male she crashed into, while struggling to undo her safety harness. "Please try to remain still, you have suffered serious injuries. An ambulance will be here to take you to a hospital shortly."
The male raised his unbroken arm slightly and made the affirmative gesture, "It... it shall be done... superior female." The male allowed his head to fall back and began to fade back into unconsciousness.
One of the other infantryfemales in the unit, Grezaaka, approached Vorriv. "Yerret said one of the casualties is a female who was tasting ginger, I will tend to her." She pointed at the injured male, "How is he?"
"Not good. His injuries are extensive, but he is more compliant than the other driver is likely to be. Is there an ambulance on the way yet?" Vorriv had one eye-turret on the female in the other vehicle, who by all indications had not begun to calm.
"Yes, small-unit group leader Kedepp said the local hospital is sending a Hallessi paramedic team, the pheremones in the air will not impact them. They have promised to be here quickly." Grezaaka replied before heading over to deal with the ginger-tasting driver.
Vorriv continued to treat the injured male to the best of her ability. The first aid training she had received as a soldier of The Empire was aimed more at battlefield injuries than those typical of traffic accidents, though it was still helpful in keeping the driver alive until proper medical assistance could arrive. The other driver started shouting louder and more frantically, Vorriv did not envy Grezaaka right now.
A pocket on the injured male's belt began to emit a hissing sound. Vorriv opened the pocket to find the drivers phone was receiving a call, she decided to answer it on his behalf.
A Hallessi voice spoke. "I greet you, Ketemp. I must apologize in advance as I am likely to be late to our meeting. Traffic appears to be heavily congested, I suspect there is an obstruction somewhere ahead."
"This is infrantryfemale Vorriv, I regret to inform you that Ketemp was involved in a collision, he is alive but given the extent of his injuries he will not be able to meet with you today." Vorriv responded. "My unit was patrolling nearby when the collision occurred, I am delivering first aid now, paramedics are on their way."
The Halless let out a startled hiss, "By the Emperor! This is most unfortunate, I hope he is able to recover swiftly from his injuries. I shall inform my employers so that we may reschedule our... I'm sorry, did you say your name was Vorriv? You wouldn't happen to be from Ressik, would you?"
"Yes, that is right. My name is Vorriv and I am from Ressik. Do I know you?" Vorriv tacked on an interrogative cough.
"What a coincidence, It is me, Gnoff." He replied. "It is good to speak to you again, despite the unpleasant circumstances."
"Forgive me, Gnoff. I did not recognize your voice. We can catch up later, Right now I must resume my duties." Vorriv ended the call and returned Ketemp's phone to his belt.
Vorriv managed to get the last of Ketemps bleeding wounds bandaged before the hissing ambulance sirens reached her hearing diaphragms. The dressings would have to be removed before he could be treated properly, but at least now he would not bleed to death before that happened. She looked over to see how Grezaaka was managing with the female driver, only to see that Grezaaka was attempting to restrain said driver, who was putting up a spirited resistance. Her safety harness was undone by now, with one hand she was clawing at Grezaaka while the other held a vial of ginger to her mouth. Grezaaka managed to grab hold of the female drivers arm and pull the vial of ginger away. Enraged, the driver clamped her jaws onto Grezaakas wrist. Grezaaka hissed in pain and let her guard down just long enough for the driver to steal her sidearm and shoot her twice in the abdomen.
The driver crawled out of her vehicle and began skittering towards Vorriv, who raised her rifle up to the approaching female. "In the name of the Emperor, drop the weapon and surrender, you egg-addled fool!"
"Egg-addled fool? I'm going to kill the egg-addled fool who pulled out in front of me! Get out of-" The female of The Race did not get to finish her threat as Vorriv cut her down with a short burst from her gun.
Vorriv stared stunned at the female of The Race as she fell back and blood began to pool beneath her. Despite being conscripted into the military, Vorriv never expected she would ever have to shoot anyone, if war with the Tosevites did ever break out it would be fought with explosive-metal bombs and little else. Shooting a fellow citizen of The Empire wasn't something that she would ever have considered a possibility. Hearing Grezaaka groan in pain, Vorriv refocused on the situation at hand, she rushed over to assess the other soldiers injuries. The gunshot wounds were bleeding profusely, but Vorriv was able to slow the tide long enough for the Hallessi paramedics to take over. Whether Grezaaka would survive was uncertain, Vorriv knew she did what she could, she would spend the rest of the day wondering if it was enough.
The abandoned warehouse smelled faintly of spent gunpowder, Ffoteruk's so-called 'private security' were practicing with weapons of Tosevite manufacture in the basement. He had chosen the location well, the sound of gunfire was not particularly easy to hear outside and would be droned out once the machinery he would acquire soon was installed and operating. Feeling proud of his impeccable planning, Ffoteruk decided to reward himself with a generous taste of ginger. He pulled a vial from a pouch on his belt, undid the stopper and poured a large pile of powder into his hand. Holding the powder up to his nostrils, he inhaled deeply, the intoxicating scent of the herb dispelled the smell of gunpowder. Almost involuntarily, Ffoteruks tongue shot out and made the herb disappear. Pleasure rushed throughout his entire body, little things that irritated him before no longer seemed important. The warped floor boards in the makeshift office, cracked windows, leaking pipes, none of it mattered. At worst, Maargeyes could take care of it.
Ffoteruk listened to the faint sound of gunfire as the ginger coursed through him, he let his jaw drop open in silent laughter. Right now he felt like he didn't need his armed males and females, or even a weapon for himself. He was strong enough and smart enough to take on his rival gangs, all of the law enforcement of Rabotev II and even the now-permanent military of The Empire of The Race single-handedly.
The euphoria did not last long, it never did. As soon as it passed Ffoteruk felt as though he was descending deep into the depths of Rabotev II's mantle, crushed by an unfathomable mass of molten rock and burned by it searing temperature. He hated himself for feeling as wretched as he did, he hated the accursed Tosevites and their miserable, cold, wet planet for producing the herb and he hated The Empire for prohibiting the herb.
He sank into a chair and turned an eye-turret towards as clock sitting on the adjacent desk. Time was passing excruciatingly slowly, it almost seemed as if the clock itself had control over the flow of time and was abusing this power to mock Ffoteruk. Ffoteruk let out an angry hiss and smacked the clock off of the desk and onto the floor. He poured himself another taste of ginger. Suddenly, the way he felt a moment ago was entirely forgotten. How could Ffoteruk hate himself, when his genius and might were unparalleled across four worlds? How could he hate The Empire that controlled three and a half worlds when it produced an individual as incredible as he was? How could he hate Tosev III and its native Tosevites when they produced the greatest thing in the universe besides himself?
Maargeyes entered the office. Ffoteruk didn't notice him at first, the Rabotev had to repeat himself before he caught the crime lord's attention.
"I have arrived, what is on your mind?" Maargeyes asked.
"What is on your mind is what is on mine." Ffoteruk said cryptically, pausing before continuing. "I understand you have been concerned about the state of our... operation, for a while now. Is this so?"
"Truth, superior sir. The police raid we suffered a while ago has caused me a great deal of anxiety." Maargeyes admitted.
"Perhaps you would like to elaborate?" Ffoteruk inquired. "If so, I will hear you out."
Maargeyes swung his eye stalks around nervously for a moment. Reluctantly, he began to explain, "Well, with the raid on our primary ginger store, we had three tenths of our stash of the herb confiscated and law enforcement are now aware that we are in possession of Tosevite firearms, they are likely to put their focus on pursuing our organization as opposed to our rivals."
Maargeyes was still pointing his eye stalks in every direction except for directly at Ffoteruk, who gestured for him to continue, "We also cannot confirm if any of our security males and females were taken alive, it would be severely damaging to us if any of them break under interrogation." The Rabotev glanced at the floor and took a deep breath before he went on, "We have worked as though our situation is unchanged since. I do not believe we are doing enough to mitigate a potential disaster."
Ffoteruk leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. "It is as I thought. It is now my turn to confess something. I have purposely cultivated these feelings in you by keeping you ignorant of certain happenings."
Both of Maargeyes eye stalks were now aimed aid Ffoteruk. "What! Why would you do this, superior sir?"
"I will tell you, but first I will explain what I have kept from you." Ffoteruks tone revealed that he was amused with himself. "Pull up a chair, this could take a while."
There were no other chairs in the office, Maargeyes had to leave the room to find a chair and bring it back. While he did so, Ffoteruk felt the effects of the herb begin to fade. He had a small taste, the pleasure returned. Ffoteruk felt like the most intelligent male there ever was, soon he would make Maargeyes also feel that Ffoteruk was the most intelligent male there ever was.
Setting the chair down and sitting, Maargeyes fixed Ffoteruk with his full attention. The male of The Race began, "Do you remember what you said when I had a fake museum established?"
"I forget what my exact words were," Maargeyes began, "But it was something to the effect of 'That is an interesting approach to money laundering, I suspect it will work quite well.' Of course, my assumption regarding what your plan entailed was wrong."
"Truth, it was." Ffoteruk jibed, before continuing, "A few bribed ginger-fiends in the ministry of culture and two years later a Tosevite starship arrives in orbit with 2500 'museum pieces' all for us."
"They may be of substantially inferior quality than weapons of The Race's make, but those are unavailable to rival gangs." Maargeyes commented.
"Truth." Ffoteruk repeated. He moved his feet from the table, grabbed a roll of paper from the drawer and spread it out before the Rabotev. "Have a look at this."
Maargeyes examined the paper, it was a document with unusual diagrams and strange lettering. In spite of its oddness, there was a certain familiarity to it. "The schematics for the Tosevite weapons, I presume."
"You presume correctly." Ffoteruk affirmed. "Well, this is one page of the schematics, the full plans are more extensive." He pulled another document from the desk drawer and laid it out. "Now look at this."
The new document was similar to the first, the diagrams were similar, though formatted in a more familiar manner. The text that was present was in the language of The Race, as were the units of measurement. "You had the schematics translated into the language of The Race, to what end?" Maargeyes tacked an interrogative cough onto the end of his question.
"This is not just a translation, these schematics have been adapted to use standardized components already manufactured here on Rabotev II." Ffoteruk laughed silently, "The machinery we are having delivered here is not just to muffle the sound of gunfire, we are going to make more Tosevite guns."
Maargeyes hissed in surprise, "Redesigning an alien weapon to meet our specifications should have taken well over a century, by the Emperor, it should have taken well over a century by Tosevite standards, with their barbarously long years." He briefly flicked his eye-stalks in the direction of the floor.
"One would think, however I am sure I do not need to explain to you how engineers with ginger habits can be motivated to work faster." Ffoteruk explained, before hastily adding, "Or a Halless with extensive gambling debts we can exploit."
"Truth." Maargeyes murmured. "With an arsenal like this, we could dominate the entire Rabotev II ginger trade."
Ffoteruk was about to respond when a hiss came out of the intercom on his desk. He slipped a fingerclaw into the button. "She is here, superior sir. Shall we bring her through?" A voice on the other end asked.
"Right on queue. Yes, bring her through." Ffoteruk turned one eye-turret back to Maargeyes. "Hold that last thought for a moment."
A female of The Race was escorted into the office by another female of The Race and a female Rabotev, both armed with Tosevite weapons. The armed guards both wore the bodypaint of private security with discreet grey stripes at the base of their eyes, the modification all the males and females in Ffoteruks employ made to their paint. The unarmed female wore the bodypaint of a pharmacist, though Ffoteruk knew better than to trust it, just as he knew is own ever-changing bodypaint was not to be trusted. The females bodypaint was smudged in several places, while it was likely to have been immaculately applied, she had not had the opportunity to touch it up for a while. At the moment, she looked rather disheveled and undignified.
Undignified or not, Maargeyes hissed in alarm, he sprang from his seat and pulled a knife from his belt. "What is she doing here! Reestiil's gang is one of the largest on this part of the planet. Second only to our own, superior sir."
Nervously, the unarmed female of The Race, Reestiil, aimed one eye-turret towards Maargeyes and the other towards Ffoteruk. Once Ffoteruk gestured for Maargeyes to stand down, she spoke up. "Your males and females are well armed, far better armed than any of mine." She paused for a moment, "Is... is that gunfire I can hear coming from the basement?"
"It might be." Ffoteruk answered. "Depending on the next thing you say, you won't have to worry about it."
Reestiil took half a step back, bumping into one of the armed females behind her. She hesitated before bending into the posture of respect. "I submit to you, Ffoteruk. My ginger stores belong to you, my males and females will obey your commands. Just don't have us all shot, I beg of you. For the love of the Emperor we will not give you reason to."
Ffoteruk turned an eye turret towards Maargeyes, his mouth hung open in surprise. Ffoteruks own mouth dropped open in laughter. He took a container of bodypaint from a pouch on his belt and a brush from another. He dipped the brush into the paint then stowed the paint. He stepped up to Reestiil, she was still in the posture of respect. "Don't struggle, try to hold still." He commanded, before grabbing her by the right eye-turret and yanking her to her feet. She hissed in pain as Ffoteruk sank his fingerclaws into her flesh. Slowly and carefully, he painted a grey stripe in the base of her left eye-turret, then pushed her back to the ground.
Ffoteruk turned to go back to his desk, he put his brush away and plucked his vial of ginger out of its pouch. "Get her some paints, let her clean herself up before you take her away." He ordered, before pouring himself another taste of ginger. "Unless you would like a taste? I reward loyalty just as I punish betrayal. Show me the same loyalty as my other males and females and you will wish this day had come sooner."
Reestiil eyed Ffoteruk warily, after briefly considering his offer, she made the affirmative gesture and held out her hands. Ffoteruks tongue shot out to the ginger he had poured himself, he then tossed Reestiil the vial. She poured the herb directly into her mouth. She shivered visibly, fixed both eye-turrets on Ffoteruk then assumed the mating posture. She looked ridiculous to Ffoteruk, or she did until the scent of her pheremones reached his scent receptors, he felt his crest rise, his posture became more upright and his mating organ emerged from his cloaca. The rush of ginger and the urge to made caused what happened next to pass by Ffoteruk in a blur. When he regained his senses, both he and Reestiil were sprawled out on the floor, panting. He looked over at her and saw several claw marks on her hips and back. The two armed females dragged her away. He hoped they would be careful with her, she could be gravid with his progeny.
Maargeyes knelt down beside Ffoteruk, "You never did say why you kept all of this from me, superior sir." The Rabotev asked.
"I need you to remember the feeling you had when Reestiil turned her gang over to me." Ffoteruk panted. "Some of the other gang leaders will be stupid enough to try and fight us, it will be your job to make them reconsider."
Governor Talons of Sandstone rode back into back into town after he had completed his patrol of the outskirts. The sun had set not long before, the developing contrast between the dark, star filled sky and the snowy, lightly forested landscape held a certain aesthetic appeal, The Holy Seeress was right when she declared the beauty of The Magnificent One's creation knew no limits.
When he first came to the northern provinces, he thought he was being punished, perhaps he had unknowingly committed some transgression that antagonized the Seeress and the Holy Council. Now, he was no longer concerned about that, if this assignment was to be a punishment, he did not consider it such. His beak no longer chattered when he walked through the snow and he no longer shivered in his nest at night while he slept. A small part of him worried that his acclimatization would torment him should he ever return to the dunes of his homeland for good, he struggled with the heat the previous summer when he was summoned to report on how readily the locals had submitted to the will of The Magnificent One. Despite assurances that summer was particularly harsh, he continued to fret.
Snow crunched under his the feet of his mount as he continued through the streets. Governor Sandstone was glad to be riding a local beast, while they were incapable of the speed a more familiar mount might be able to achieve, he seldom needed to ride particularly fast. The creature more than made up for it with its stoic tolerance of the harsh but beautiful climate it called home. The fact that it had a generally friendlier demeanor was a nice bonus.
One of the locals Governor Sandstone had a passing acquaintance with noticed him as he passed. The local had a bundle of firewood slung over his back, he set it down and called out. "Ah, your Excellentness, I have some fresh meats today, If you are interested I can set aside a few choice cuts for you." He spoke in the Governors language rather than his own. His grasp may have been imperfect, but it compared very favorably to the rest of the town-fowl.
"Blessings upon you, Hjalff. I shall send my cook your way in the morning, she shall give you a good price, I assure you."
Seemingly satisfied, Hjalff hefted his firewood and continued on his way. Governor Sandstone smoothed down some feathers that a gust of wind had ruffled before he resumed making his way through town. He looked back at Hjalff, the locals white, speckled feathers were thicker than those that comprised his own, sandy plumage. That likely helped to keep him warm in the snow. Governor Sandstone pondered if The Magnificent One made all the different peoples of the world uniquely suited to the lands in which they lived. After a while, he decided that this was unlikely, if it were so, all the peoples of the world would have had their own Seeresses sent unto them, there would be no need to spread the word of the magnificent one. He made a mental note to include the question in his next correspondence with the Holy Council, if they had an alternate point of view, he wanted to hear it.
Just as he finished his last thought, Governor Sandstone heard a commotion up ahead. He flicked the reins on his mount, the beast let out a squawk, not in protest but in acknowledgement, then obediently sped up.
Once he arrived at the disturbance, he found a group of his soldiers shouting back and forth with a local hen. She seemed equal parts enraged and terrified, at her feet a chick was cowering from the soldiers, one of whom was threatening them with his pike.
"Silence!" Governor Sandstone screeched. He spoke to his soldiers first. "In the name of The Magnificent One, you will tell me why you are bickering with this hen!"
The lead soldier, an individual by the name Plumage of Glass, answered. "This young cockerel was caught drawing unholy symbols in the snow, his mother attempted to intervene as we were going to implement the proper and righteous penalty."
Governor Sandstone turned to the hen. "What do you say happened."
The Governor addressed her in her language. She responded in his, confidently if not fluently. "Your preacher, he teach my son counting. He also teach my son shapes, my son likes shapes and he makes them in the snow. These cockerels not like my sons shapes, they say they chop his arm. You rule our land, you preach your spirits but you not let us live in peace."
Once the hen finished speaking, Plumage of Glass stepped to the side and pointed the bottom of his pike at a patch of snow. "Observe with your own eyes, Governor."
Governor Sandstone did so, he dismounted and handed the reins to one of the other soldiers, then approached the patch of snow. Found a large number of crudely drawn simple shapes, mostly an assortment of triangles and squares but off to the right was a pentagon drawn inside of a hexagon. He walked back to the hen and her chick and spoke to the latter. "What is your name, young one?"
"Sk... Sknoll." The chick answered softly.
"Sknoll, you are quite the skilled little drawer of shapes. Tell me, has your teacher taught you the story of the Hexapents?" Governor Sandstone asked.
"No." Sknoll chirped.
"Let me tell you about them. Hexapents are the name of specially carved stones. They have six sides on the outside and they have a hole in the middle with five sides, like the shape you drew over there." Governor Sandstone said, pointing back to the patch of snow Plumage of Glass showed him. "Before the Holy Seeress, some people made them as a way of praying. When the she brought the word of The Magnificent One to my homeland, many people were angry at her. They were upset to hear the truth, so they began to pelt the Holy Seeress and her followers with the Hexapents to scorn them. When those who were angry at the Holy Seeress were defeated, the Hexapents were all smashed and making more of them was forbidden."
"And those who were caught making them were punished by cutting off their hands, so they could not make any more." Plumage of Glass interrupted.
Governor Sandstone held up a hand to silence the soldier. "Sknoll did not carve a Hexapent, he drew one in the snow while ignorant. The Holy Seeress teaches that we do not punish ignorance, we vanquish it."
Plumage of Glass and the other soldiers clucked to themselves discontentedly, Governor Sandstone chose to ignore them. The hen, satisfied with the Governors decision, moved to scoop up her chick and leave. Governor Sandstone ordered her to remain.
"Sknoll will not be punished for making blasphemous idols, for he could not have known what they were." Governor Sandstone reiterated. "However, malignant forces are attempting to exert their influence over him. were they not doing so, he would not have drawn those shapes in that unfortunate arrangement. For his own good, he must be cleansed."
The Hen's demeanor reverted to the panic she showed earlier. Governor Sandstone briefly thought she would attempt to flee, but one of the soldiers leveled his pike at her. She stood in place.
The Governor took a small candle from his satchel and approached one of the soldiers to light the candle on his lantern. He turned back to Sknoll and his mother then spoke to the former. "Which hand do you draw with?"
"This one." The chick said, holding up his left hand. Governor Sandstone grabbed his wrist firmly. Sknoll tried to pull his hand out of the Governors grasp, but lacked the physical strength to challenge him.
"May The Magnificent One protect this child from heretical thought and may those that would lead him astray cower and flee when faced with his piety." The Governor pushed the candle into Sknoll's hand, extinguishing it on his palm. The chick let out a shrill squawk of pain.
"You may return home. Try to keep him out of trouble." Governor Sandstone said to the hen. "I see piety in his future."
Dismissed, the hen left at a brisk pace and did not look back once. Governor Sandstone continued back to his residence. The stone building he administered the northern provinces from was the largest building in the town, but its size was not what set it apart. Though it was constructed from local materials, the architectural style was far from local. Were it not for color and texture, it would not have looked out of place back in the south.
The gate guards welcomed the Governor back and admitted him to the residential grounds. The stablemaster, a local, took charge of the mount, Governor Sandstone headed inside. As he strode through the hallways of his residence, he caught the smell of the meal the cooks were preparing in the kitchen. The northern provinces were not particularly close to any lucrative trade routes, nevertheless, Governor Sandstone made sure to keep his cooks well stocked in spices. It was well worth the expense, the cooks put the spices to good use.
As he made his way to his chambers he was accosted by Eye of Salt. The elderly scholar had come north in pursuit of her astronomical studies. Governor Sandstone was usually glad he had extended his hospitality to her, he admired her focus and commitment to the study of The Magnificent One's creation, however this single-minded determination sometimes made her a less than courteous guest.
"Governor Talons of Sandstone, I am glad you have returned. I heard a fracas in town a short while ago, do you know what the cause was?" Eyes of Salt asked.
"Yes, I was there. A chick was drawing in the snow, some of his drawings were blasphemous, unbeknownst to him, of course. A group of overzealous soldiers were upset by this." Governor Sandstone explained.
"I see, I see." Eyes of Salt responded. "Would you care to join me on the balcony for a brew?"
The Governor accepted the invitation and sat with the scholar. She poured him a hot beverage, a welcome source of relief from the chill of the night. The pair sat quietly for a while, admiring the snow dusted hills in the distance. Once Eye of Salt finished her drink she broke the silence.
"The stars are especially beautiful tonight." She said idly.
Governor Sandstone looked up into the sky. "I agree, they most certainly-" he cut his comment shot when he noticed one of the stars moving quickly across the sky. It stood out as brighter than most the other stars that it shared the sky with, it proceeded from the northwest to the southeast before vanishing beneath the horizon.
"That star, it moved all the way across the sky in a few moments! Did you see it?" The Governor asked in astonishment.
"I did, this is the third time I have observed it recently, it would seem to be new, as best as I can tell, it makes its way all across the entire sky and around the world at least twelve times a day." Eye of Salt replied.
"A new star? What does such a thing mean?" Governor Sandstone inquired.
"I do not know, that is a question I would put to a theological scholar." Eye of Salt answered. "One thing I have noticed about the new star is that, assuming my eyesight is not failing me in my old age, is that it is slightly bigger now than the first time I spotted it."