Worldwar:
Balancing act
Chapter 05
Pouring himself and his clutchmate a drink, Gnoff turned an eye stalk towards his friend. Vorriv looked just as miserable now while drunk as she did a short while ago when she was sober. The two Hallessi were worried about their friend. The depression she had sunk into looked comparable to a ginger addict going through withdrawal. Gnoff was confident Vorriv had never tasted ginger, though that did not mean ginger was not involved. The guilt she felt after shooting an armed ginger taster dead was consuming her. She wasn't taking care of herself properly, eating and sleeping irregularly and not cleaning her apartment as often as she should. The two Hallessi did their best to help with the cleaning. Looking around, Gnoff could see there was still some work to take care of.
He passed Erakatt her drink and sat down next to Vorriv. The female of The Race did not acknowledge him, instead she just continued to glumly stare into the bottom of her empty beverage.
"Why don't the three of us visit the shrine to the spirits of Emperors past tomorrow?" Gnoff suggested. He turned his eye stalks towards the floor at the mention of the Emperors, as did Erakatt. Vorriv pointed her eye turrets at the floor too, though they moved listlessly, as if any movement at all required an exertion of great effort.
"Why Bother?" Vorriv slurred. "I know the spirits of Emperors past have already turned their backs on me, I do not need to defile a sacred space with my presence to confirm that."
"Vorriv, the spirits of Emperors past will not reject you for carrying out your duties." Erakatt said in reassuring tones. "What happened was tragic, but it was not your fault. If it was your fault, you would have been imprisoned and the green bands of punishment painted onto your arms, instead you were given leave to attend grief counselling. You carried out your duty, you did not commit a crime."
Vorriv did not answer Erakatt immediately. Instead she stood up, stumbled to the kitchen and poured herself another drink, (Gnoff and Erakatt had stocked the cupboard for her, making sure they did not include anything that the Tosevites were distributing). She downed the entire contents of her glass in a few quick gulps, poured herself one more drink and then returned to her seat beside Gnoff.
"My duties are a farce." Vorriv sighed, tacking on an unenthusiastic emphatic cough. "If war did break between The Empire and the Tosevites, we would all be vaporized by explosive-metal bombs, it does not matter how much I march about with a rifle. we infantry males and females are just for show."
Gnoff set down his drink and turned both his eye stalks in Vorriv's direction. "I know we have disagreed on this topic before, but it is important. If soldiers of The Empire were not present of the surface of Halless I, the Tosevites would send in their own soldiers and make us submit to their barbarous rule. Instead, they point their explosive-metal bombs at us and we point ours at them. This way we have to resolve our disagreements with words instead of violence. Your duty is important, Vorriv."
Vorriv sank back into the soft fabric of her chair and let out a long hiss then pointed an eye turret at Gnoff. "Perhaps you should have been the soldier instead of me if that is the way you feel." She said.
Gnoff began to consider that, but was quickly interrupted. Vorriv was drunkenly fumbling with the controls to her television, she switched from one entertainment channel that was airing a workplace drama about a paper mill to a music channel that was playing a song about a female of The Race operating demolitions equipment while in heat. Gnoff did not particularly like this song, but Vorriv seemed to, she looked as if she had cheered up slightly and was doing her best to sing along. Gnoff and Erakatt both joined in, and the three drank the night away in Vorriv's apartment.
Gnoff and Erakatt were slightly worse for wear when they woke up the following afternoon. Vorriv, through a combination of overindulging to a greater degree than the two Hallessi and starting from a lower point emotionally, was suffering greatly.
"I'll stay here and take care of her." Erakatt volunteered. "This is your last rest day before you return to work, is it not? You should head home and get ready for work."
Reluctantly, Gnoff did as she advised. His mood did not improve as he ruminated on his impending work day while he made his way home. Scrubbing his old coat of bodypaint off once he was home, he thought to himself, I wish I could put some other bodypaint on tomorrow morning. The reality of a career as a junior analytical chemist was disappointing compared to the vision he had as a student. He found practicing chemistry far less interesting than learning chemistry, the most interesting event in his professional life was his recent trip to source some new chromatography equipment. That, of course, ended in failure when the salesmale was in a traffic accident shortly before their meeting (followed by Vorriv shooting the other driver). In the end, it mattered little, his education left him few viable career paths that he thought he would find preferable and he did not find the prospect of searching for a new job enticing either. With resignation, he went to bed early.
The following workday was largely uneventful. Gnoff's morning was occupied by tedious preparation for tasks that would last until his next cycle of rests days. Printing labels, labelling vials, dispensing reagents, printing labels, labelling vials, dispensing reagents. On and on, the morning passed. One benefit of this sort of repetitive task, in Gnoffs opinion, was that it gave him plenty of time for his mind to wander. He usually had something to occupy his thoughts, today though, his thoughts were focused on how dissatisfied he was with his job.
During his midday meal break, Gnoff tried to find something to distract him from his imminent return to boredom once he had finished eating. It was during this time his thoughts returned to something Vorriv had said the day before last;
Perhaps you should have been the soldier instead of me.
Gnoff chewed on that as well as his food. Vorriv was distraught with guilt after being forced to shoot a belligerent female of The Race, would he have felt the same way? He did not think so. Had he been conscripted instead of his friend, both of them would be better off, at least as far as he was concerned. Unfortunately for both Vorriv and Gnoff, only males and females of The Race were subject to conscription, and females were only conscripted due to the presence of the accursed Tosevite herb that had brought so much disruption to The Empire.
A moment later, another thought occurred to Gnoff. Vorriv can't be the only conscript unsuited to the job. No doubt there were many others who would benefit from swapping places with Gnoff. From that it followed there were those who would be conscripted soon who would make worse soldiers than Gnoff would. The Empire permitted and encouraged voluntary enlistment ,preferring it to conscription. If Gnoff enlisted that would surely spare some would-be conscript from going through the same ordeal Vorriv had, would it not? It was too late to help Vorriv, but Gnoff could still take someone else's place. He had never heard of a Halless enlisting, but that was likely an oversight. As the Tosevites had taught The Empire through their all too painful lessons, the lack of adversity led The Empire to far too many oversights.
Gnoff hurried through the rest of the days tasks in hopes of leaving work early. Unfortunately, his manager, an elderly female Halless named Krizett, organized a last minute meeting to announce some inconsequential changes to the maintenance schedule. He managed to leave at his normal finishing time, though by the time he arrived at the local military office it had closed. Annoyed, he headed home and spent the evening researching military enlistment on the computer network of Halless I.
To his relief, Gnoff was able to depart work early, making it to the military office before it closed. The office was quiet as he entered. There were only two other individuals present in the office, a male of The Race wearing the bodypaint of a military recruitment officer sat behind a desk, typing away at a computer terminal and another Halless, an electrician atop a step ladder fiddling with a light fixture in the ceiling.
"I greet you, superior military recruitment officer." Gnoff began as he approached the male of The Race behind the desk. "I am interested in enlisting as a soldier, I wish to do my duty to The Empire."
The male of The Race swiveled both eye-turrets towards Gnoff. He opened his mouth, then closed it again without speaking, as if unsure how to respond to the statement that he had sure heard countless times before. After a moment that was just long enough to constitute an awkward silence, he composed himself and responded.
"You are a Halless." The recruitment officer stated.
Gnoff bent his eye stalks down to examine himself. "That I am. I am also a citizen of The Empire. A citizen with the same desire to fulfil my duty to The Empire as any other, just like you."
The recruitment officers eye-turrets waggled slightly. "Traditionally, military service is restricted to The Race." He declared.
Under normal circumstances, that would have ended the argument. Appeals to the traditions that had guided The Empire for millennia were unopposable. At least before the arrival of the wild Tosevites in orbit around the worlds of The Empire they were. Gnoff had hoped that someone serving in the military during the new 'permanent' soldier's time would understand this. He was disappointed, but had a reply ready.
"Traditionally, females of The Race do not serve in the military, nor do we have a permanent soldier's time. The Tosevites have forced us to change both of these traditions in order to properly defend ourselves. Allowing all citizens of The Empire to serve in the military, regardless of species, would only make The Empire safer."
"Both of those changes were approved by The Emperor himself." The male of The Race said, turning his eye-turrets towards the floor, Gnoff doing likewise with his eye stalks. "I am not aware of any decree extending military service to Hallessi or Rabotevs."
Despite his frustration, Gnoff was suddenly glad he was unable to have this conversation the day before. The research he had done on the military last night was about to come in handy. "Both of those changes were implemented on Tosev III before being extended to the rest of The Empire. Not only that, The Fleetlord here on Halless I also implemented them as emergency measures on his own initiative when the Tosevites arrived in their faster-than-light starship, that was before the order to do so arrived from Home."
"Well, I suppose you think of yourself as an expert on The Empire's recent military history." The recruitment officer said, making no effort to hide the annoyance in his voice. "If that is the case then you must surely know that the conquest fleet of Tosev III did experiment with enlisting Tosevites as auxiliary forces, that experiment ended when the auxiliaries betrayed The Empire. You will also know that this happened in the lands of the not-empire that has sent its faster-than-light starships to the worlds of The Empire. Does that not justify restricting military service to The Race?"
Appalled, Gnoff spluttered his reply, "The conquest fleet underestimated the deceitfulness of Tosevites! We Hallessi are no more deceitful than The Race and no less loyal to The Empire, if you think otherwise then you must be utterly addled!"
The recruitment officer hissed in anger, Gnoff could not see his tailstump but was sure it was quivering furiously. "If that is the insubordinate way in which you are going to speak to me, then I do not believe you are suitable for military service, regardless of the fact that you are a Halless!" He made a show of turning his eye-turrets back towards his computer terminal, implicitly dismissing Gnoff.
As he turned to leave the recruitment office, Gnoff found his path obstructed by the Hallessi electricians ladder. The electrician, who was now examining a different light, saw Gnoff approach and began to descend the ladder.
"My apologies, superior sir. allow me to move the ladder for you." The electrician said. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with recruitment officer Uofoz just now. I am a member of a firearms sports club and I think my fellow members would be interested in hearing about what you said here today, if you would care to speak to them."
Gnoff looked at the other Halless and let out a quiet hiss of surprise. "Is that so? I think I might do just that."
Sitting up straighter in his seat, Ffoteruk swung his eye-turrets this way and that, scanning the nearby market as he and Maargeyes drove past. He caught the faint whiff of the pheremones of a female of The Race in heat, it was not currently mating season; which could mean only one thing: Ginger. Having been reminded of the Tosevite herb, Ffoteruk bent over so his snout was below window level, grabbed a vial of ginger from his belt pouch and took a small taste. He leaned back in his seat as the initial wave of bliss passed over him, then sat up straight again once it began to subside and he noticed the pheremones again.
Pheremones were not the only thing that reached Ffoteruks scent receptors. The nearby market was one of many all over Rabotev II where the wild Tosevites were permitted by The Empire to sell goods as a part of their cultural outreach program, including food. The smell of unfamiliar, alien spices cooking in unfamilliar, alien food attracted all manner of curious citizens of The Empire. Males and females of the Race, Rabotevs, Ffoteruk could even see a few Hallessi. Fools, he thought. As far as Ffoteruk was concerned, Tosevites were only good for one thing and they were not selling it openly at any market.
Traffic ahead began to slow, Maargeyes turned an eye stalk away from the road and towards the market.
"Seems like there is some sort of commotion over there, superior sir." The Rabotev said.
"Mating." Ffoteruk replied, satisfied with his insight. Pheremones of The Race had not effect on Rabotevs and vice versa, Maargeyes was none the wiser about the nearby female. "Some foolish female couldn't wait to get home before having a taste, now she gets to go through withdrawal in a cell." His jaw dropped open in malicious laughter.
"If she bought her taste nearby, it wasn't from one of our dealers." Maargeyes commented.
"They'll be one of our dealers before not to long, by The Emperor!" Ffoteruk exclaimed. Maargeyes looked down, away from the road for a moment, at the same time Ffoteruks eye-turrets tingled slightly, the male of The Race figured some Tosevite spice cooking nearby was irritating their eyes.
It wasn't long before the ginger tasting female came into view, handcuffed and being bundled into a police vehicle by another female of The Race and a male Rabotev. Maargeyes took a good look while traffic was still clearing.
"How odd, that Rabotev is not just an ordinary police officer, his bodypaint is that of a senior heavy weapons officer. Doesn't look like he has any heavy weapons on him right now." Maargeyes observed.
"He better hope we don't have to shoot him anytime soon then if he can't shoot back." Ffoteruk said as he bent over to sneak another taste of ginger. He rolled the vial between his fingers as he looked over towards the police officers. Tasting ginger in front of the authorities without them noticing was a rush of its own, on top of that of tasting the herb itself.
Once the police vehicle drove off, traffic began to clear and the two gangsters continued on their way. Their destination was not far, just a few buildings down the street from where the police were parked and on the opposite side of the road. Maargeyes parked the covered goods vehicle he drove for Ffoteruk, grabbed his oversized backpack and began to make his way inside the nearby building. Ffoteruk also began to make his way inside after grabbing his tablet computer. The building housed a front operation used by one of Ffoteruks gangs larger rivals, the sign above the door appeared to be complete gibberish at first, though the male of The Race quickly realized it was a transliteration of a Tosevite word. He sounded the word out: lawn-droh-matt. He had no idea what the word meant, but from what he could see through the storefront window, it must describe a place where the Big Uglies purchased and communally washed their wrappings.
"Zaxxat and Reestiil are already here." Maargeyes said as the pair reached the door. "They are disguised as egg-addled Big-Ugly mimickers, this should go smoothly."
Ffoteruk had no doubt that he was about to be successful, with the ginger that was currently in his system, he felt confident enough to take on the entirety of Rabotev II's law enforcement if he had to. Stepping into the lawn-droh-matt, he grew even more confident. He could see four people inside, not including himself, two Rabotevs and a male and female of The Race. Zaxxat and Maargeyes, the two Rabotevs, had been loyal to Ffoteruk for years while Reestiil, the female of The Race had only recently surrendered her gang to Ffoteruk. As Ffoteruk walked towards the counter, Reestiil kept an eye turret on him. He ignored her, her over eagerness to show her loyalty to her new boss was becoming annoying.
The male of The Race that stood behind the counter was wearing a set of ridiculous Big Ugly wrappings. The garment bore a passing resemblance to the protective clothing firefighters wore inside burning buildings, but was so severely oversized the male seemed to be swallowed up whole by it. It was striped with all the colours of the rainbow, though they were in the wrong order and the yellow stripe was repeated inconsistently. At the very least the wig he wore more faithfully recreated the colour, if not the arrangement, of Tosevite fur. From what little of the males bodypaint Ffoteruk could see, he was a cashier. As Ffoteruk drew closer he noticed a badge pinned to the other males wrappings that stated his name and position, Ggreves. Cashier, second grade. Such a badge was likely an imitation of some foolish Tosevite custom, Ffoteruk thought scornfully.
"Hello there, superior sirs. How can I help you today?" Ggreves said, starting his greeting with one of the few Tosevite phrases Ffoteruk was familliar with.
"I greet you." Ffoteruk said flatly and in the language of The Race. "I am here to see Ptenex."
"My apologies, superior sir, but Ptenex is not here at the moment." Ggreves said, without missing a beat. "Would you like to leave a message for him?"
"Don't give me any of your beffel-guano excuses, you miserable little Tosevite-worshipper!" Ffoteruk hissed, adding an emphatic cough. "You are going to take me to Ptenex and you are going to do it now!"
"I beg your pardon, superior sir, but that is not an acceptable..." Ggreves began to splutter. He trailed off when he noticed that Maargeyes, Reestiil and Zaxxat had taken their Tosevite designed weapons from their backpacks and were aiming them directly at him.
Ffoteruk took out his vial of ginger and poured a small amount of the herb directly onto his tongue. "Go on, finish your sentence. My acquaintances want to know what you were about to say."
Ggreves' eye-turrets darted from gun to gun for a moment, when he regained his senses, he cast his eye-turrets to the floor. "Please follow me." He whispered.
Ggreves led Ffoteruk and his gang members through a corridor and into a backroom office. The rival drug lord was there, sitting at a computer terminal and on a video call with a female of The Race Ffoteruk did not recognize. Behind Ptenex stood a Rabotev bodyguard with a sledgehammer resting on his shoulder. When Ptenex noticed that his office was much more crowded than it was just a moment before, he abruptly ended his call and began to shout at the cashier.
"What is the meaning of this interruption, Ggreves? I Explicitly told you I was not to be disturbed under any circumstances!" The drug lord screamed.
Ffoteruk barged past the cashier. "Shut up, you sniveling pile of excrement, I'm in charge here."
The armed gangsters aimed their weapons at Ptenex and his bodyguard. The Rabotev dropped his sledgehammer and put his hands in the air, Ptenex pointed both his eye turrets at Ffoteruk and waited for him to continue.
"Your little... enterprise here has been an itch on my tailstup for quite some time now." Ffoteruk began. "I'll admit, it is certainly bold of you to use a store that sells Big Ugly nonsense to launder your ginger money. Bold, but an itch I can tolerate no longer."
"I am the one who should be complaining about an itchy tailstump." Ptenex retorted. "You have been muscling in on my territory for some time now. The rumors about your new toys are true, I see. Tell me what you want from me." He asked, adding an interrogative cough.
"Your gang." Ffoteruk stated. "You and all your males and females work for me now, your ginger is mine and you'll be selling it on my behalf." Having mentioned the herb several times in a short period of time, Ffoteruk could not resist having a taste. As he put his vial of ginger away he noticed Ptenex had dropped his jaw open in laughter.
"You want my gang? What if I don't hand it over, you will shoot me?" Ptenex asked. "If you were going to do that, you would have done it already. You are here to make a deal. Grab a chair, lets make a deal.
It was Ffoteruks turn to laugh now. Reestiil passed him a nearby chair. "I think there is some misunderstanding here, fortunately for you I have prepared a video that should help clear things up." Ffoteruk said with false cheer.
He unfolded the kickstand on the back of his tablet computer, placed it on Ptenex's desk and started the video.
The camera panned over the inside of one of the abandoned factories Ffoteruks gang used, someone was speaking but the cacophony of machinery in the background made the speech unintelligible. On one side of the room several of Ffoteruks gangsters were brandishing their Tosevite weapons. The camera panned back in the other direction and stopped on the opposite wall that boasted a makeshift railing. Maargeyes entered the frame from the right, leading several males and females of The Race with sacks over their snouts and arms tied behind their backs to the railing. After securing his sack snouted charges to the railing he stood back. The staccato sound of gunfire cut through the indistinct noise of machinery. Bodies writhed against the railing as blood erupted from bullet wounds. Once movement had mostly stopped, Maargeyes stepped back into frame and detached the corpses from the railing. Another group, this one was mostly Rabotevs, was lead to the railing. A few of them tripped over the bodies of those who had gone before them, Maargeyes had to force them back onto their feet before tying them to the railing and allowing the armed gangsters to open fire once more.
Ptenex watched the video while Ffoteruk watched Ptenex. By the shifting of the rival drug lords body language, Ffoteruk could tell that he was more horrified by the sight of bodies being dragged away once there were too many obstructing the railing. Several more rounds of executions went on before Ptenex decided he had seen enough.
"Very well, you have made your point!" He shouted with an emphatic cough. "You can and will slaughter us if you so choose, I believe you."
"Shut up, you are about to miss the best part!" Ffoteruk snapped.
The two drug lords turned their eye-turrets back to the screen. Another round of executions was taking place. When the gunfire died down, one of the prisoners, a female Rabotev, broke free from the railing. She hit the ground hard, blood began to pool beneath her. Her breathing was laboured but she was still alive. The camera approached the wounded Rabotev, the individual holding the camera kicked her over onto her back. They then took one of the rifles from the other gangsters and jammed the barrel into the roof of the Rabotevs mouth. Her eye stalks turned and looked directly into the camera an instant before a fountain of gore burst from the top of her head. The video stopped as brain matter began to ooze onto the concrete floor.
Ptenex did his best to not look at Ffoteruk. Ffoteruk ignored that. "So what will it be, will you submit to me, or will you join her?"
"It is as you said." Ptenex said weakly. "You are in charge here."
Ffoteruk grabbed Ptenex by the eye-turret and dragged him over the desk. His Rabotev bodyguard took a step forwards, then stopped as three rifles were pointed in his direction. Ffoteruk painted a grey circle around the base of Ptenex's eye-turret, then pushed his back into his chair.
"Do you have a second in command?" Ffoteruk asked. "You should let them know about our new... arrangement."
Ptenex waggled his unpainted eye-turret at his Rabotev bodyguard. "Yibgris here is the closest thing I have to a second in command."
"Go and get some paints." Ffoteruk told the bodyguard. "I will let you paint your own eye stalk. Maargeyes, go and get the crate."
"It shall be done, superior sir." Maargeyes said as he headed back to the cargo vehicle.
"W-what is the crate for?" Ptenex asked nervously.
"We are all going on a short excursion." Ffoteruk answered. "Except for you, you're staying here. Go on, go back out front, out of my sight!" He continued after noticing Ggreves was still in the office quivering in fear. The cashier obeyed, skittering out of the office and almost tripping over his own feet. Ffoteruk paused for a moment to pour some ginger onto his tongue. "You are coming with us inside the crate, everyone else gets a seat." He sneered at Ptenex.
Ptenex did not reply, instead he glumly kept his eye-turrets pointed at the ground. When Maargeyes returned with the crate, Ptenex was hesitant to climb inside, though he hurried when Zaxxat smacked him with her rifle. Maargeyes and Reestiil nailed the crate shut then wheeled it into the cargo vehicle after stowing their rifles in their backpacks. Zaxxat also put her rifle away, then grabbed Yibgris by the arm as the gangsters piled into the vehicle.
Maargeyes drove the group out of the city for quite a while, suburbs quickly gave way to sand dunes, which seemed to go on forever. At least they would have had Ffoteruk not had ginger to keep him company. He hardly noticed the dunes changing colour from yellow to orange to red and finally, once the sun set fully, to blue. Maargeyes pulled over at the side of a quiet road. Ffoteruk ordered everyone out. The gangsters gathered around the crate with Ptenex still inside.
Grabbing a can of industrial solvent and one of the rifles from his goons backpacks, Ffoteruk strode up to Yibris and pressed the barrel of his gun into the Rabotevs chest.
"Can I trust you to take over his part of my operation?" Ffoteruk asked, pointing an eye-turret at the crate. Yibgris, trembling, made the affirmative gesture. "Good. I will hold you to that. I promise you that you will regret hatching from your egg if you betray me."
The drug lord set his gun down on the sand beside his feet. He opened the can of solvent and began to pour it over the crate, ignoring the muffled protestations from Ptenex inside. He grabbed a lighter from a pouch on his belt and tossed it to Yibgris, the Rabotev barely managed to catch it.
"Prove yourself." Ffoteruk demaned. "I think you know what to do."
Ruth was chattering away to Fatimah and the rest of their colleagues as they made their way to the greenhouse. That was nothing out of the ordinary, chatting about both work and non-work related topics was an activity just about everyone who worked at the Jerusalem Botanical Research Center. Today though, the topic of conversation certainly was out of the ordinary.
"It is nothing but a complete and utter travesty." A male of The Race named Facaros declared. "Fleetlord Tevreg will be planning reprisals for this crime as we speak, of this I am certain."
"Truth!" the others in the group chorused.
"Not just against the bandit regime." Oppeg, another of the researchers, added. "If the not-empires make the mistake of declaring those murderous barbarians independent and equal to themselves then they will be on the receiving end of punishment also!" She tacked on an emphatic cough, another chorus of Truth! followed.
"The hypocrisy is astounding too." Fatimah said. "They make their nonsense claims about freedom for their subgroup of Tosevites, but how many Chinese Tosevites perished in their attacks? Their poison gas and ballistic missles kill Tosevites just as easily as males and females of The Race."
"It would not surprise me one bit if each of us, not just me and Fatimah, but all of us cared about the dead chinese Tosevites more than all of the leadership of the bandit regime put together." Ruth commented, Truth! rang out again.
The conversation carried on in a similar fashion as the group got closer and closer to the greenhouse. One rumor postulated that the initial wave of ginger tipped missiles also included drugs that affected Tosevites, another rumor alleged that the poison gas used in follow-up strikes was the same one the Deutsch used to murder followers of the Jewish superstition. A different rumor contradicted that last one, instead asserting that the poison gas was sourced from a cache the Nipponese abandoned shortly before the conquest fleet arrived. once at the greenhouse security checkpoint, the conversation drifted towards work related topics.
Males and females were checking equipment and work plans as they removed their belt pouches for inspection. Ruth and Fatimah peeled off their Race-scale coloured wrappings. Neither Tosevite had an issue with being undressed in the presence of males and females of The Race, wrappings were not a custom of The Empire before Tosev III and it's native Tosevites were a part of it. By all accounts, the first Tosevite to become a full citizen of The Empire did not wear wrappings, though she was raised excusively in the company of males of The Race. Other Tosevite citizens continued to wear wrappings of sorts. Perhaps in time, as the number of Tosevites who clung to their inferior cultures dwindled the practice of wearing wrappings would disappear or perhaps the nature of Tosevite biology would led to the custom persisting forever. Ruth suspected the latter was the more likely outcome. She was unfazed by being naked in front of The Race (and in theory, Rabotevs and Hallessi though she had never met a member of either species) and she especially did not mind Fatimah seeing her without her wrappings, but other Tosevites? Ruth would never be comfortable with that, particularly males.
Ruth yelped in surprise as a sniffer dog she had not noticed poked its nose into her groin unexpectedly. Finding no ginger hidden there, the creature moved on. Ruth caught Fatimah failing to suppress a giggle, though she quickly received her comeuppance when another dog made a similar search of her backside. The Empire was slow to adopt sniffer dogs, rightly so, in Ruth's opinion. The Empire preferred electronic detection methods over unfamiliar, alien beasts at first. It eventually came around when Tosevite volunteers trained dogs to sniff out ginger and proved their effectiveness. Sniffer dogs were suggested by Tosevites sympathetic to The Empire even before the peace of Cairo, then implemented once they were thoroughly proven to work.
Once the security personnel were satisfied none of the researchers were trying to smuggle ginger into the greenhouse, Ruth and Fatimah redressed. The rest of the researchers, all males and females of The Race, donned battery powered respirators before entering. Rows upon rows of planters inside the greenhouse contained ginger plants in various states of ill health, the Jerusalem Botanical Research Center was primarily focused on developing selective defoliants that killed ginger plants and as few other species as possible, plants and animals alike.
"I shall be measuring soil moisture today, who was assigned to measure soil pH?" Facaros asked the group.
"That my task today." Ruth answered, raising her hand.
"Then let us work together." Facaros suggested. "I shall water soils that are too dry, it will be useful to take pH measurements both before and after doing so."
The suggestion was sensible, Ruth readily accepted it and the group got to work. Taking soil measurements was a methodical task, one that Ruth was certainly able to carry out quickly. The same should have been true for Facaros, however the anxiety of being exposed to ginger even through his respiratory protective equipment slowed him slightly compared to Ruth. Fatimah could keep up with Ruth at her fastest pace, as Tosevites, neither female needed to fear the herbs narcotic effects. Fatmiah, however, was sampling the leaves of the sickest ginger plants and preparing them for microscopy. Ruth continued on with Facaros.
As morning passed into afternoon, the group broke off their work for a meal break. Ruth read over the data she had collected while she ate. The Tosevite began grumbling to herself. the correlation between plant health and pH was not as strong as she had anticipated. That complicated a hypothesis was developing regarding a particular defoliant formulation. Eating the leftover Azwaca tikka masala that Fatimah had prepared the night before cheered her up a little, but not enough to hide her expression from her mate.
"Don't tell me the curry has spoiled?" Fatimah asked, concerned her cooking had gone to waste. "I made sure to put it straight into the refrigerator as soon as it had cooled."
"No, no. It is just good as it was last night." Ruth replied, with a reassuring emphatic cough. "It's this data I'm glum about, it isn't as promising as I would like."
"That is a shame, if it is any consolation my morning was more satisfying." Fatimah said. "Several of the images I captured with the microscope had artistic merit as well as scientific value, at least in my opinion."
The two Tosevites chuckled quietly. Fatimah spoke again between mouthfuls. "I was speaking to Oppeg earlier, about the conference in Cairo."
"Oh? Were you telling her about our chance encounter with Ttenniv and the twins?" Ruth asked.
"No, actually. Heh, I had actually forgotten about that." Fatimah remarked. "We were actually talking about the plans for the Imperial Gardens. Apparently the proposal to include Tosevite plants from all of Tosev III's various climates had been approved. Our facility here, along with several others across the planet, have been asked to provide personnel to the project."
Ruth blinked in surprise. "They want some of us to help put the Imperial Gardens together? Why?" She asked, before answering her own question. "They need experts on various climates. And experts on keeping ginger out."
"Exactly." Fatmiah confirmed. "I think we should volunteer. It would be nice to live in Australia for a while, would it not?"
"Truth, it would indeed." Ruth Concurred. "I've lived in Jersualem my whole life, it would be good to see more of the world."
Fatmiah smiled. "Before we head home today I'll make sure to let-" her sentence was interrupted by Uteiss, the administrative director of the Jerusalem Botanical Research Center.
"Attention everyone, I have an announcement to make." Uteiss began. ""Security forces have informed me that we may have to evacuate the building. A mob of Tosevites from both the Jewish and Muslim superstition has formed outside of the nearby shrine to the spirits of Emperors past. If the situation escalates into a riot, this entire district and everybody will be at risk."
Murmurs spread through the assembled researchers. One researcher, a female of The Race named Ppett, asked Uteiss a direct question. "Why have the two mobs decided to fight outside the Emperors shrine?"
Uteiss made the negative gesture. "The Jewish and the Muslim Tosevites are not fighting each other. From what I have been told, the Muslim Tosevites are upset because one of their places of worship was closed by local officials earlier today after it failed a fire safety inspection. The Jewish Tosevites are upset because the exterior masonry of one of their places of worship was damaged in a traffic accident caused by a male of The Race, both groups have decided to jointly express their displeasure by attempting to deny access to the shrine."
"You said we may have to evacuate the building." Fatimah noted, "When will we know for sure one way or the other?"
"I cannot say for certain." Uteiss replied. "However, when I do know, I shall make an announcement immediately."
The administrative director did not stay to answer any more questions. As conversation resumed, the potential of an imminent riot was the dominant topic, it continued to be the dominant topic once the researchers finished their meal break and returned to work, though some discussion of the recent attacks carried out by bandit regime in China also took place. The announcement declaring that the mob had dispersed and evacuation would be unnecessary came late, most of the days tasks were already completed.
Passing through security on the way out went much the same as on the way in, though with fewer dog snouts in sensitive places. Ruth and Fatimah playfully bickered over who would get to drive on the commute home. Fatmiah won the debate, cackling as Ruth handed over the keys. As she climbed into the front passenger seat of their Renault, she flinched and almost smacked her head against the doorframe when Fatimah screamed in horror.
"Ouch! What's wrong, Fatimah?" Ruth asked, clutching her scalp.
"Some fiend has keyed the car!" Fatimah exclaimed.
Ruth climbed back out of the car and walked around to the driver side door to inspect the damage. She saw the words 'lizard cloaca licking whore!' in Yiddish carved into the metal.
"That's not terribly creative." Ruth sighed. "They didn't even spell 'lizard' correctly."
"Is that Yiddish? What does it say?" Fatmiah asked with a distressed tone to her voice.
"Lizard cloaca licking whore." Ruth translated. "Probably the work of one of the uncultured Tosevites that was part of the mob Uteiss everyone warned about."
Fatimah groaned. "Lets just go home, I don't feel like dealing with this right now."
Traffic on the journey home was slow, even by Jerusalem standards. The camaraderie the Jews and Muslims showed earlier in the day did not persist universally, several fights between the two groups had broken out and obstructed the roads between Ruth and Fatimahs place of work and their apartment. The fights tended to be broken up as quickly as they broke out, nevertheless, it made for a tiring journey.
The pair spent the evening watching the news. Global news channels focused on casualty reports from southern China while local news consisted of various interviews with witnesses and security personnel that dealt with the mob at the shrine. None of this did much to distract from the vandalized car, Ruth decided to go to bed early.
She lay down and tossed and turned a few times, just as she had gotten comfortable she heard Fatimah speaking in the living room. Before Ruth could call out and ask her mate to repeat herself, the voice of a male Tosevite came replied. Surprise and concern shot through her, Ruth went to investigate. At the front door, Ruth found Fatimah having an animated discussion in Arabic with an older male in Arab-style wrappings. When he spotted Ruth, an angry expression spread across his face. He began to rant at Fatimah while looking back and forth between her and Ruth, before suddenly stopping mid sentence. He turned and quickly left, Fatimah frantically closed and locked the door.
"Who was that?" Ruth asked cautiously. "Should we contact the police?"
Fatimah made the negative gesture, trembling. "That was my uncle Salman. He came to tell me that my grandmother is dying, she wants to see me and beg me to rejoin the family and return to Islam. When he saw you, he asked why I have a Jew in my home at this hour. I think he figured it out, I think he knows... about us."
The research taking place onboard the Sherran's band was progressing at an alarming rate. Pesskrag existed in a constant state of anxiety, Throwing caution to the wind and rushing development of a new technology that had the potential to radically alter the society of The Empire contradicted that Empires most sacred traditions. It was also a contradiction that she was doing so by direct order of The Emperor, thinking about all of these contradictions made her feel queasy.
The rest of the scientists aboard the Sherran's band, as well as the starships crew, did not seem to share Pesskrag's apprehension. At least, not to the same extent as her. Shiplord Dezzin epitomized this.
"As a student, I declined the opportunity to move to Halless I because I was unwilling to leave my friends behind." Dezzin mused to Pesskrag in the refectory. "Once we finish developing this technology and we have starships that travel father than light, a person would never face that dilemma. They could move to Halless I or Rabotev II, live there for several years and then move back to Home and reunite with their old friends as though they were just living on the other side of the planet."
Pesskrag did her best to hide the horror in her voice. "Are you not worried about the impact that could have on society? For millennia we have travelled between the stars at half the speed of light, think of all of the things that can and will change when that is no longer the case!"
Dezzin let out a thoughtful hiss. "We do not have much of a choice, do we? The wild Tosevites have forced out hand. Were that threat absent, then I would agree that our whole project here is the product of a completely addled mind."
"Truth." Pesskrag said, dejectedly. "Though at this point I fear it is also truth that the Tosevites have addled our minds anyway.
"Perhaps they have." Dezzin agreed. "Even so, we have made good progress here, we have consistently sent both radiation and subatomic particles from one end of the Sherran's band to the other faster than the speed of light for some time now, perhaps we could set up real-time communications with home. The slight delay from the speed of light is an inconvenience at times."
Pesskrag made the negative gesture. "We cannot manipulate the fabric of space inside the gravity well of a planet or star. Space is flat here at the fourth point of gravitational equilibrium between Home and the sun and at the edge of star systems. Intra-system travel faster than light is beyond even the Tosevites."
"Very well, I suppose we will have to make do with the upcoming experiments on macroscopic objects." Dezzin said.
Pesskrags tailstump quivered slightly, she was not looking forwards to those experiments. Regardless, the appointed time for those experiments eventually came to begin the experiments, beginning with steel ball bearings. Pesskrag personally oversaw the preparation of the apparatus that would fire the ball bearings and the apparatus that would detect the ball bearings as they passed the opposite end of the starship before either was attached to the extending telescopic arms that held them at a distance from the ship. Doing so gave her the opportunity to delay the experiments slightly, the delays were negligible overall but the chance to cling on to the delusion that she was not working towards the destabilization of her entire society was irresistible.
She took her position in the laboratory where she and her subordinate scientists controlled the experimental apparatus related to their faster than light experiments
"Everything is ready here, superior female." Vazzik reported dutifully."
"Very well researcher Vazzik, we shall begin." Pesskrag replied. Reluctantly, she pressed her fingerclaw into the control. The laboratory was silent, aside from the whirr of the multitude of computer cooling fans throughout. After a drawn out moment, Vazzik broke the silence.
"We did not achieve faster than light travel for the ball bearing, it was detected within 0.07 % of the time expected if the space manipulating apparatus was not activated." The male said, making the negative gesture.
"It was also somewhat off target." Pfavoss, one of the other scientists working on the Sherran's band, added. "The ball bearing was detected closer to the edge of the detection radius than it should have been." She paused to tap a few keystrokes into her terminal. "I think I can use that measurement to determine the necessary adjustments we must make, they shall be ready shortly."
Pfavoss calculated the adjustments needed too quickly for Pesskrag to savor the delay, before too long she found herself with her finglerclaw in the control. Everyone turned their eye-turrets in Vazzik's direction expectantly. After while he let out a disappointed hiss.
"This time was worse, it seems as though we have made the adjustments in the opposite direction from what was required." Vazzik announced. The adjustments were made fsster this time, having already been calculated they only had to be applied in reverse. Once again, Pesskrag depressed the control.
The scientists waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. Pfavoss waved for Pesskrag's attention. "My apologies, senior researcher, but I made an error while inputting my portion of the last set of adjustments. The space manipulating apparatus did not fully engage."
"By the Emperor Pfavoss, we cannot afford such carelessness!" Pesskrag snapped. The scientists reset their equipment, once Pfavoss confirmed her adjustments were input correctly, Pesskrag jabbed the control hard enough that her finger hurt for a while afterwards. Vazzik quickly jumped out of his seat, eye-turrets waggling in excitement.
"We have a successful test!" He exclaimed. "The ball bearing was fired from one end of the starship and was detected at the other end faster than light would be able to travel an equivalent distance!"
Several of the scientists hissed in approval, Pesskrag just about managed to remain composed.
"We do have some room for improvement, however." Pfavoss noted. "Shall I begin calculating the pertinent adjustments, senior researcher?"
Pesskrag did not respond verbally, merely giving the affirmative gesture. She imagined how her conversation with The Emperor would go in a worst case scenario:
You have successfully transported ball bearings from one end of a starship to another faster than the speed of light? Excellent news! Your next task is to take your starship to the edge of the star system, travel to Rabotev II and bring Fleetlord Neretiil back with you. I shall expect his arrival by the end of next year.
Her unpleasant daydream was interrupted when Vazzik informed her that the next experiment was ready to begin. Refocused, Pesskrag began the next experiment. Pfavoss that the adjustments made were successful in making some of the targeted improvements. Several more rounds of improvements and adjustments were made before Shiplord Dezzin stopped by the laboratory to inform the scientists that the starships power systems were being strained by the successive, rapid-fire experiments. Mercifully, the days experiments were ended early that day.
Pesskrag managed to summon enough of an appetite to eat a proper meal in the refectory that evening. As she was about to finish, Pfavoss approached.
"Senior researcher, may I have a moment of your time?" Pfavoss asked.
"As long at it only a moment. What is on your mind." Pesskrag replied.
"I have an old watch I would like to donate to out research." The junior researcher said. "If we were to attempt to transport it using the manipulating apparatus and the recover it, we could then inspect it afterwards for signs of damage or reduced functionality. It will be important to confirm that objects can travel faster than light and remain intact."
Pesskrag struggled to disagree with her subordinate, nevertheless she found an objection. "Such an experiment would be premature at this time. I am sure we shall revisit this in the future, however, for now you can keep your watch."
Pfavoss acquiesced without complaint and withdrew from the refectory. Shortly afterwards, Pesskrag did the same and returned to her quarters. Upon arriving she noticed that she had received a video message from Home. Playing it immediately, the image of the Emperor sprang onto the screen. Instinctively, she bent into the special posture of respect reserved for the Emperor before standing back up, glad nobody had noticed her blunder.
"I greet you, senior researcher Pesskrag." The recording of the Emperor began. "I hope your research is going well. By now news has almost certainly reached you that the Tosevites from the United States have deployed pairs of satellites to the edges of the star systems of The Empire. Observations of these satellites repeatedly travelling between the stars in a short period of time to relay messages has provided a great deal of data that should prove useful to you."
Pesskrag was indeed aware of the events the Emperor spoke of, few people across the four worlds of The Empire were unaware, she imagined. The recording continued.
"What you are not aware of however, are some events that recently occurred on Rabotev II. An official within the Rabotev II ministry of culture requested that the Tosevites supply military equipment from the time of the arrival of the conquest fleet to Tosev III for display in museums across the planet." The recoding stated.
That sounded unusual to Pesskrag. The cultural outreach program the Tosevites were operating was certainly more extensive on Rabotev II and Halless I than it was on Home, but even on those worlds it was supposedly only tolerated, it did not receive much active cooperation from the governments there.
"This request was fraudulent." The recording explained. "A gang of ginger dealers bribed the official who filed the request with the Tosevites and then absconded with the weapons when they arrived."
Pesskrag's jaw dropped open in horror. Ginger and the associated criminal enterprises had plagued The Empire ever since the first cargo ships returned from Tosev III, the thought of these gangs arming themselves was sickening.
"While I am sure you are horrified, I must reassure you that I have full confidence in Fleetlord Neretiil and his ability to deal with the situation." The recoding continued. "This does, however, represent and opportunity for us. The Tosevites decided to inform us of this incident themselves rather than wait for the signal from Rabotev II to reach us at the speed of light in order to reassure us that they did not intentionally arm these ginger dealers. In recompense for this slight, they have offered transport Botanical researchers from Home, Halless I and Rabotev II to Tosev III and back in order to aid us in our efforts to eliminate ginger from The Empire."
That surprised Pesskrag, the Tosevites had been unwilling to transport anything whatsoever faster than light on half of The Empire, however, she did not see what the relevence of this to her was.
"Our intelligence operations of Tosev III have likely acquired information that would aid you in you research, once our scientists are brought back to Home by the Tosevites, you will be able to access this data without having to wait the twenty four years if would normally take for that information to travel here. I look forwards to you next report. Please keep the information in this message secret, knowledge of armed ginger gangs becoming public is not in the best interests of anyone." With that, the recording ended. Pesskrag sat down on her bed, she certainly had something new to think about.
Karen Yeager was sitting at a table in the galley of Roosevelt Station alongside several other crewmembers eating a quesadilla. The galley was busy, the others at the table were trying to include her in their conversation and the quesadilla on her plate tasted pretty good. In spite of all of this, her mind was elsewhere. The probe at the edge of the Bzenk system was scheduled to switch places with its counterpart at the edge of the...
Calling it the 'solar' system seemed inappropriate while you were located in another star system. Using the Latin word 'sol' was too antiquated and obscure to sound proper and 'Tosev' from the language of The Race didn't seem right either, not when the United States had eclipsed The Race technologically. 'Bzenk' also had its origins in the language of The Race too, but it remained in use as the name 'Eta Cassiopeiae' was far too verbose in comparison.
Whatever term you used to describe the star system where humanity hailed from, the probe there and its partner probe here were about to switch places, and when they did, the newly arrived probe would transmit to Karen a message from her husband.
She heard someone say her name. She blinked a few times and looked around, Major Kevin Harris was looking at her expectantly.
"Sorry... can you say that again, Major? My mind was elsewhere just now." Karen said.
"Do you think the Bzenki would like hash browns?" Major Harris asked. "Dr. Sverek was saying earlier that she doesn't care for them and when I asked Colonel Uotat he said he's never tried them, so you could probably say that The Race don't like them. I've never met a Rabotev or Hallessi, but they're supposed to be similar to The Race so they probably don't like them either. That just leaves the Bzenki, so whaddaya think?"
The bizarre question took Karen aback. She hadn't been paying attention to the conversation up to that point, so she couldn't say whether or not the question was completely out of left field, though given Major Harris' reputation, it was likely to be.
"Uh, if they are as similar to bird from Earth on the inside as they look on the outside, then they might I suppose. Without being able to physically examine a Bzenk in person, it is impossible to say for sure." Karen answered eventually.
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Major Harris turned away to join the rest of the conversation. Karen took a large bite from her quesadilla and chewed thoroughly, it was a convenient excuse to not contribute further to the lunchtime discourse. That it tasted pretty good too was a nice bonus.
With that interruption over, her thoughts returned to her incoming message. She had struggled to be away from Jonathan for so long, the ten week journey out from Earth, followed by the ten week journey in to Bzenk IV and the two months since she arrived here was the longest she had ever spent apart from her husband, and it would still be some time before they were reunited. It had been difficult saying goodbye to her sons, Richard and Bruce as well as Mickey and Donald, again. This time, she was confident she would return to see them again. She hoped that, when she did, the adopted males of The Race would have reconciled with the rest of the family. Mickey would likely come around, Donald on the other hand, she was less sure of him.
Karen was still deep in thought when she noticed Commander Roxxane Torres walk up with a tray of food. The signal processing officer sat herself down next to Karen and joined in the table's conversation. Karen took the first opportunity to interject that was available, caring not for a moment if it was rude to do so.
"Commander Torres, have the probes switched places yet?" Karen asked.
The spoonful of potato salad Commander Torres was holding stopped an inch for her mouth. "Hmm? Oh, yes. The scheduled transition between star systems was a few minutes ago, that was when I left the station command center."
Karen quickly wolfed down the rest of her quesadilla and departed the galley.
"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" Torres called after Yeager. "The signal from the probe won't reach the station for another five hours, nobody has any messages yet!"
Karen ignored that, she already knew and understood that the probe had to transmit the messages it was carrying across the 5 light hour distance between itself and Bzenk IV. She did not, however, care. She was determined to read the message from Jonathan the second it arrived and not a second later. That meant sitting in her quarters and waiting.
She sat down at her desk and stared at her computer. After what felt like over an hour she checked the time only to see that not even ten minutes had passed. Despite her determination to read the message she was waiting on as soon as possible, she did not have the patience to sit and do nothing for several hours. She accessed Roosevelt Station's database of video footage recorded on the surface of Bzenk IV. She picked through footage from various places around the planet that was tagged with the keyword architecture. She had noticed in the footage that she watched already that several different cultures (or what the crew of Roosevelt Station judged to be different cultures based primarily on distance and clothing) employed the use of both buttresses and crenellations in a purely decorative manner. Investigating whether this was a coincidence or if these disparate cultures had some common source of inspiration was sure to kill a few hours. Karen was not sure if any of the footage would give an indication one way or the other, but she was sure that she would have to watch to find out.
She tapped through the various pieces of footage quickly, watching video in one window on her monitor and taking notes in another window. Several pieces of footage that Karen looked at was of the large, caltrop building she saw before. She skipped over those. The size of the building suggested that the flying buttresses it featured served a structural purpose and any crenellations were likely to be useful defensively, both of those observations made the building irrelevant to Karen's investigation of purely decorative features. The main reason she skipped footage of the caltrop shaped building, however, came from her desire to avoid seeing another mass hanging.
One video she watched was of a small farm cottage in a temperate region of Bzenk IV, the buttresses on either side clearly superfluous and definitely oversized, the amount of stone that went into them was almost as much as was in the cottage itself. The next piece of footage was taken in a more arid region of the planet, an adobe building in the center of a small settlement boasted flying buttresses with proportions that did not make them look useful, the brick fence surrounding it, despite rising no higher than the waist of the Bzenki standing next to it, had crenellations carved into it. She skipped though a couple of videos that did not seem to be relevant, including one of the caltrop shaped building, before she came across a building in a region near one of the poles that wouldn't have looked too out of place on Earth. It was a log cabin made from some large plant analogous to trees, the interesting thing about it were the windowsills. Despite the fact that they adorned glass windows that did not look like they opened, the sills were painstakingly carved into crenellations.
Karen was so engrossed with her videos of strange alien architecture that she almost missed the notification that she had a message. She opened it immediately, as she expected, it was from Jonathan. She stopped caring about how the aesthetics of Bzeki buildings and began to read.
Hey Karen,
I've missed you terribly since you set out on the Sacagawea, we all have. The boys, the grandkids, the whole family. Hell, even Donald asked me to pass on his best wishes to you. Donald has been spending more time with the family recently, at first I thought he was just looking for an excuse to have arguments with us all but now it seems he's just taken a liking to good-natured back and forth ribbing.
We all had a good time at Jessica's birthday party recently, everyone was asking how you were. There was talk of organizing a family vacation to The Bahamas for her fiftieth birthday, I am looking forward to it mostly because you'll be back by then. Richard, Mickey and I all managed to cut ourselves on the same broken glass of rum and coke. Donald bandaged Mickey while Bruce and Diane saw to me and Richard. I wish my dad could have been here to see Donald getting on with everyone, once my old man passed I think the animosity Donald had towards him and by extension, the rest of us began to subside.
I hope the Bzenki are keeping you amused, bring back some interesting stories about them, would you? I can't wait to see you when you return, I love you.
Jonathan.
Karen began to tear up as she read. She wiped away the tears that dripped onto her desk with a tissue. She hit the button that started the next video by mistake, she didn't care. She read the message again and again, every time she reached the end she wished it was just a little bit longer, every time she started from the beginning she wished that she could notice something that she had overlooked the last time she read it. Eventually she had to force herself to close the message, if she didn't she would just make herself upset, she had to focus on her purpose here if she wanted her time in the Bzenk system to pass quickly.
The video Karen had started by mistake was another one with the caltrop shaped building, this time zoomed in to a Bzenki standing on a balcony. She was about to stop the video when she noticed something odd. The Bzenki was holding what at first looked like a metal scepter, upon closer inspection it was not just a metal scepter. The Bzenki was holding a camera mount. A camera mount from one of the rovers sent by The Race.