V. Disturbing News
“Weird. I see no corpses on the scan of the wreckage. Didn't we report something else?” The first Hamrax asks the other, scratching his chin scales.
“Yeah. I can remember three dead: Marzok, Xurthak and the pilot, Fular. We must've returned the bodies to the Lights before making the scan.” The second one replies.
“Might be. Urgh, not losing the bodies again!”
“Also, uh... where's the hovercar? I don't understand why they need this marvel of technology here, but it's missing. Oh right,” The Hamrax slaps himself, “we enjoyed a little trip... thing's fast, but hard to control...”
“Damn! But on the other hand – who can blame us for that? A unique occasion. I'll have to add bodies and car in...” The first sighs. “Luckily it's easy enough, and the scan is only for the protocol. Clear case of pilot's failure here.” He indicates the ship, stuck into a sand dune and not resembling anything able to reach space. “Looks worse than it is. No technical failure at all.”
“For one who apparently called himself an ace and would've wished to be in Zeta Reculi right now,” the second laughs, “crashing into the ground must have been a very difficult manoeuvre. Wouldn't have become pilot right now! Shows they took everyone in the beginning. Tuxkans would make mincemeat out of us, we'd be the laughing stock of the galaxy for ages to come.”
The other smiles back. “Good thing we're better than that and showed them a thing or two!” He shuts off the computer. “At least the wreck went down in the middle of nowhere, and besides, its concealment still works. Spending more time here to restore that, no thanks. Just let it be buried by the sand, nobody will notice anyway.” He makes a throwaway gesture.
“I was going to say that. Folks up there are already in uproar 'because of Six', whatever they mean, so nobody cares about us. Say, how about we celebrate our imminent return to civilization? I've smuggled just the right thing on board.”
“Best thing I've heard for weeks now since we were sent on this investigation.”
Both Hamraxes return to their ship, return to the crashsite with some bottles, and watch Sol appearing behind the next dune in a not so sober state. “Well, let's get out of this hole.” One says after a while, the other agreeing, throwing his bottle into the wreck, before they get to the ship and leave Earth's surface.
“Barbarians.” Fular gets up from behind the dune, ready to take the bottles out of his ship. “Took a while to arrive, and then this. If I didn't want to be dead, I'd be complaining. Guy's right where he's wrong – they hire just about everyone, not back then, but these days. I'd outmanoeuvre a Tuxkan even with her in this sad state, but don't worry, my dear. Humans' regular sleep gives me a lot of time to work with you. And it seems my actions didn't miss the spot.” He laughs.
Weeks before, Fular went through the ship, and gave Xurthak the proper flame burial. Nobody deserves to be torn from the Lights, even if he hated him. Having salvaged what he could, most of all the vehicle for his activities on the ground, he looked at the virtual map the scientists use to keep track of their subjects. Toying with the idea of great conquest for a while, he discarded it fairly quickly. Germany erupted in chaos not long ago due to inheritance. Another realm would erupt in chaos fairly soon, and Six apparently noticed it now.
“Tell me the sensors are going crazy. Or that some young fool is playing a trick on us and thinks that hacking the Sol observation post is such a fun thing to do. Or the Tuxkan for what it matters, believing we are developing some kind of secret weapon over here. Yes, it's their fault. Damned slavers will pay soon enough, Rekaxir broke their defences for good this time.” Uvruk, chief scientist of Sector Six, punches the screen.
“I'm sorry, but no.” The new sensors being Finu-made, Avvava, as Finu of the station most familiar with the technology, has checked them and presents the results. “They are working exactly as intended. No nasty code anywhere. No trace of hostile activities.”
“That's what you say. Wasn't your Executive behind the war? Tuxkans might have cracked your tech so that you don't notice.”
“There is not a chance of that happening. I'm not just specialized in sociology, like you, and I know that things don't work that way. Trust me. Sensors are working just fine.” The fungus lifts its tentacles. “Accept it, and just study it as it is. Would of course be better to get down on earth, but with the crash... terrible to have lost a ship and two sector leaders. And I kind of liked Fular too.” Avvava's tentacles drop, and her head shakes. “Replacement will take a while to arrive with the war waged though. Perhaps with some new species to bring in their experiences to complement ours. You seem to have a fairly authoritarian past.”
“Unlike you, we have always been one, and solely one organism, so there was no clear transition from group individual to individuals in groups. We had our leaders, single figures. Poor men. Great men.” Uvruk is obviously filled with pride as he pronounces these last words.
“Your famed uniting kings, and then Varzh, I've heard that countless times since I've arrived. And you might be blind because of that past, but did you realize you just re-elected Xarzet, your 'Shining Beacon', to another 40-years term? That's one third of my life if all goes well! And he already reigns for forty years! Only an authoritarian past?”
The Hamrax looks down menacingly upon Avvava, his voice just as harsh. “Never criticize the Beacons. Not when you are on one of their ships. Not close to an Hamrax. Nor anywhere else.” He got closer with each sentence, now returns to his initial position. “You hear me?” That wasn't a question.
“Yes.” That wasn't an answer. “Okay, just face the conversion of Badshah Azam and that kind of purge as the facts they are, right? No need to call me again. See the consequences at the end of the war with your own eyes, if you need that.” The Finu leaves.
“Identify yourself. Who, or rather what, are you? A mammal and an arthropoid – what shall that be?” The translators buzz with activity.
“”Thanks, I'm fine, colleague'. I hoped for a kinder welcome. The visitor center was nice after all, but I guess they just propagate the usual lies. We are experts in lies, so I'm not surprised. Clatpck, new scientist from the Ztrakpor Consortium. I heard of your project here, and my interest awoken. I left my home to do research here, for the benefit of all. A rare trait among my people.”
“Right. I am sorry, but the last months have been hard. The madness in Hispania, hard to comprehend. But while the ruler remains a mystery, studying the subjects has hardly ever been more rewarding, more enlightening. I am sure you will find what you yearn for. Uvruk, I am leading this sector.” He reaches out his hand. “And who are you?” He asks, more politely this time, the mammal, who stares down, all but happy.
“I come from the same empire – sadly. We were once free from these voracious exploiters – once. I've been in the Raltek navy. They didn't shoot me down, but rather captured my vessel as I defended my home valiantly. Without thrusters, I thought it would be the end of me. But as likely every Ztrakporan would say: 'A live one with information is worth more than a dead one.' Didn't tell them anything. We still lost, but inflicted them what they hate most – a fairly substantial cost.”
“Come to the point, Allirog. We aren't all bad, and he hardly cares for your life's story.”
“Always so blunt, these Ztrakporans. You share our fascination for the unknown. Good thing there weren't any guys like these close to you.”
“There are. Or rather, were, I think I have to say now. The 'Frubralav Imperium' and the 'Royal Tuxkan Colonies' – now the 'Frubralav Galactic League' and the 'Tuxkan United Realms' respectively.” Uvruk smiles. “I reckon we can defend ourselves fairly well, even if we had some initial difficulties.”
“Anyway, I'm the new pilot. Allirog's the name. And we've got a fine vessel from Ralteka. Unarmed ships were no danger, so I'm sure the leaders were all too happy to sell them. Your Beacons apparently paid enough for it.”
“Enough is the right word. You can continue another time, perhaps when you are less depressed.” The Raltek returning to the ship, Clatpck whispers to Uvruk: “Found him roaming our great city's streets without aim. You know, it would cost more to kill him than to let him go, so my government chose the second one. I've saved him from starvation and himself. He's actually a good friend if you get to know him. So, the sector...”
“Good. Let me introduce you to our most controversial subject. Azam, formerly 'the Good', now known as 'the Cruel', 'the Impaler', 'the Devil'. Radically changed religion, culture and character from one day to the other and began to kill everyone in sight who disagreed with him. A mystery. While it let us study fairly well the effects on the population, how and why most still follow him, we need all help we can get to figure out the trigger.” The lead scientist turns less serious. “Perhaps some economical thinking might help here?”
The arthropoid's mandibles clack together fairly often. Laughter, perhaps? “I see we are going to understand each other after all.”
“Never had so much fun! I think I can understand the mad kings of the day. The spirit of conquest, as well, blessed by Vestallus! But I think I've done enough here. Repairs have also advanced smoothly over the last years. Well, that was one side of the medal – there are some others left to explore. Six's had the brutal madman. I think there still needs to be the great conqueror - and the worst ruler ever to grace that planet! - before I can look back and say that I've done what I wanted... And I think I have enough time for that. What? Oh, of course my love. I speak of you. I leave only when you are ready.” Fular embarks on the hovercar, heading for his new... 'victim'.