by J. Naomi Ay
“Nothing as of yet,” Miltan mumbled, her glasses perched on the end of her hooked nose. The Galaxy News Service scroll reflected in her lenses as the events of the previous nighttime whisked across her vid screen.
Puna dawdled. She didn't want it to appear as if she was waiting on Rosso's call. Even after all this time, Miltan was still unaware of her assistant’s equally close relationship to their boss. Preparing prepared her own cup of coffee, Puna casually strolled the four corners of the Square, dragging a finger across the bookshelves and noting a thin accumulation of dust.
Stopping for a moment, she gazed at a framed portrait of the Emperor upon the throne at the Imperial Palace in Mishnah. It was snapped on the day all the planets of Lumineria were admitted into the Empire, many years ago when Puna was practically still an infant.
There were the old Luminerian presidents all kneeling before His Imperial Majesty while the esteemed and regal Rehnorian gazed blindly off in the distance as if he was bored.
He was hot, though. Good heavens, Puna would have been willing to overlook his lack of extra limbs for that man to take notice of her. Briefly, she considered, were he still around, would Rosso be so brave in advancing his agenda?
As if Puna's thoughts were heard by the very man, the vid rang with Rosso's distinctive tone.
"Darling," Miltan cried and air kissed the vid as she raised all her arms in the Luminerian salute. "How are you this morning?"
"Shut the fuck up, Miltan," Rosso snapped. "Put down your arms. I've got something important to tell you." Over the course of the next few minutes, Rosso explained what he wanted done. "It's time to make our break from the Empire."
"Are you sure?" Miltan asked although, of course, Rosso was. He never dictated terms without being certain. If he said, the sky was blue, then, the sky, damn well, had better be blue because if it wasn't, someone's head was going to roll. After uttering her concern, however, Miltan wished she could have bitten back those words. "I'm sorry," she hastily cried. "Indeed, it's time for us to go. I'll draft the order today and inform the Imperial Palace our alliance has ended. After which, what would like for me to do?"
"Declare war upon Lumineria III," Rosso replied, surprising both Miltan and Puna.
"Oh!" Miltan gasped and glanced at Puna, who shrugged and shook her head, equally confused.
A war? That certainly hadn't been on their radar scopes. The Luminerian planets had no army of their own since joining the Empire years ago. Thus, neither woman was entirely sure how to go about this fighting.
"You'll have to launch some nuclear devices. That is, if they refuse to immediately concede."
"Some nuclear devices?" Miltan repeated, taking off her eyeglasses to rub her head, and inadvertently, nicking the blemish, prompting it to bleed again. "Won't that kill a lot of people?"
"That is the intent."
Miltan and Puna exchanged another glance.
"Do we have some nuclear devices?" Puna whispered, hoping they did not.
"I shall provide you with several," Rosso replied, obviously hearing every word. "I shall also provide you with the means to deliver them, as well as the detonation."
"Surely, the Empire would stop us." Miltan made a half-hearted attempt to protest, while dabbing at her face with a tissue. "A single starship could blow both of our planets to smithereens."
"Ha," Rosso laughed, "If their starships were only operational.”
"What do you mean?" Puna hurried to Miltan's desk where she could gaze at the blurred image of Rosso's face, as well as assist Miltan with the disposal of her soiled tissue.
"Suffice it to say the Empire shan't be troubled with you. The Imperial Princes and their idiotic advisors have enough problems of their own. Now, get me Lumineria III, and we shall all become very rich."
"You are already very rich, Rosso," Miltan reminded him.
"That I am, but it is still not enough. I won't be satisfied until the Empire of Rehnor is destroyed and replaced by the Empire of Rosso instead.” Then, Rosso laughed again as his face disappeared from the screen.
Miltan sighed heavily and held out her empty cup for another splash.
"Draft a war resolution and give it to the press. Then, ring the Ambassador and fetch him home from his posting. We are about to go to war, and he must return here right away. On the other hand, I have never really liked him. Let him stay there. What do I care if we lose an ambassador or two?"
"A war?" Puna gasped for she was now a bit conflicted. Of course, she must do as Rosso wished but a war was quite another thing. "People will die."
"What difference does it make?" Miltan waved her anterior arm around in circles. “We’re all going to die soon enough in any case.”
Miltan wasn't interested in a war either, but if Rosso wanted Lumineria III, it was her job to deliver. Rosso held the goods on all of them. He had arranged for their place in this life. If she failed to do as he asked, with a snap of his fingers, he would have her taken out. Then, where would she be? Disgraced, homeless, dead? She had no one save Puna, who might come to her aid, and frankly, she wasn't certain Puna wasn't compromised too.
"A war might be fun," Miltan offered brightly. "It's something we haven't done before. Furthermore, I've never liked that President of Lumineria III. It'll do my heart good to see him humbled or destroyed."
"Fun," Puna agreed as she rolled the coffee cart from the Square Office.
This sort of fun, the Emperor never would have allowed. Were he still around and paying attention, he would have nixed it in the bud, and maybe, even nixed Rosso and Miltan along with it.
Chapter 6
When Minka's sister, Garinka rang to invite her to Kudisha for the upcoming holiday, at first Minka didn't want to go. In general, Minka preferred to celebrate the festivities with her friends in Shrotru, especially Cinda, who would otherwise be alone.
"The Imperial Princes shall be in attendance," Garinka bragged. "Such handsome men, although so different than our Senya."
"I shan't come just to ogle a pair of de Kudisha youngsters," Minka sniffed. "Heaven knows you've got enough running about your village and every last one of them a progeny of you."
"Well, then, come to share this festive season with me. Whilst you are here, you may assist us with the baking and have a look at this strange child who has wandered into our midst."
Garinka chuckled in her somewhat arrogant and knowing way, which only served to irritate Minka, such that she immediately rang off the call. That little heathen, Marik was screaming his head off again, and Minka was having difficulty hearing her sister's prattle.
Ay yah! That child was an annoyance. Always, he was breaking something or hurting someone or yelling at the top of his lungs. Now, he was around the house all day since having been banished from the village nursery school.
That incident involved two more boys, one of which narrowly escaped with his life, whilst the other survived with only a broken arm. When the injured child was quickly rushed to Hannah for setting of the bone, the schoolmaster informed her that young Marik was no longer welcome.
"Marik! What did you do?" Hannah had snapped, handing Minka the injured child, and bidding her to settle him upon the sofa.
Somehow, in times of crisis, Minka had become a defacto nurse. Although she could administer a bandaid or check a temperature by touching one's forehead with the back of her hand, she knew nothing about what to do with this pale, feverish lad whose bone was protruding from his forearm.
"That Mishak child is the devil's own," the headmaster declared, standing helplessly by, as Minka covered the young one with a blanket.
She feared touching the injured arm, and the cracked white bone was making her slightly nauseous. Thankfully, the child had drifted off into a tortured sleep. In the meantime, Hannah's voice and the slap of her hand rang from the outer room followed by weeping cries from Marik.
“They should be banished from the village,” the headmaster continued. “Let them wander the forest or the streets of M
ishnah. I will speak to Chief Behrat and insist they be sent far from here.”
When Behrat arrived, he seemed inclined to agree with the headmaster and banish the boy. However, he wished for Hannah to remain. His motives weren’t altogether altruistic, but purely for his own convenience, as the Village Chief had made it a practice to often share Dr. Hannah’s bed.
“And, exactly where am I to send him?” Hannah had demanded loudly. Minka, resting upon the front porch, heard them arguing upstairs in Hannah’s room.
“Has he no father? No other relation who might take him in?”
“No one, Behrat,” Hannah had snapped. “And, he’s my son. If he goes, so do I.”
This argument and the subsequent tryst bought Hannah a small reprieve, if only for a day or two whilst the Village Chief was entertained.
Now, as Minka sat in her kitchen and contemplated the journey to Kudisha, heavy footsteps arrived on her porch sealing Hannah’s fate.
“That child has killed my best Billy goat,” Farmer Torim declared, nearly knocking down Minka’s front door. "Where is he? Since he has no father, I will punish him myself."
"What did he do to the beast?" Minka inquired and rose from her chair to block the stairway. The farmer’s boots were filthy and Minka had just cleaned the floors.
"Slayed him with a knife,” Torim spat, his face red and his hair sweaty, the scent of manure emanating off his body. “He drew the buck’s heart from his chest, and as far as I can tell, it looks like he ate it."
Minka was initially horrified, and for a moment sweat beaded upon her own head. Then, reason prevailed as she considered how unlikely this could be. Though the child was a terror, a bloody-thirsty killer, he was not. At least, she didn’t think so. He had also eaten a healthy breakfast that morning. What need would he have had for a goat’s heart?
It was then that Hannah conveniently arrived into their midst, her footsteps preceding her on the wooden stair.
“Kari-fa!” She swore. “That boy will be the death of me.”
“Ay yah!” The farmer cried, now pushing Minka aside. “Show me this child so I may punish him for the both of us.”
This resulted in a scuffle, for while Hannah might complain, no one, but no one might touch her baby’s skin.
“My goat!” The farmer shouted.
“My son!” Hannah replied.
“My wall!” Minka screamed as the farmer’s elbow ended up therein.
A short time later, Chief Behrat arrived, having been summoned by Cinda, who had heard it all from her porch. None too quickly, the old woman hobbled off to fetch the law, whilst Hannah was busily patching Torim’s elbow.
Minka, in the meantime, was contemplating the hole in her wall. The boy, the cause of it all, was sitting at the table, dining on his lunch, which was goat cheese upon bread.
“Did you kill the goat?” Behrat demanded of the child, seating himself at the table and taking a hunk of bread and cheese for himself.
“No,” Marik insisted. “All I did was pat him on his funny long head.”
“Are you certain?” Behrat persisted, warily watching the youngster’s face. “The goat is dead now. How could that be? Did someone else come and slaughter him after you left?”
“Mhm.” The child nodded, enjoying all this attention as if it were a game. “It was the eagle who killed goat. I saw his claws rip open his furry chest and lots of blood came spurting out all over the place. Mama, may I have some jam, please?”
“The eagle?” Behrat repeated.
“That’s ridiculous,” Hannah scoffed. “Marik, how many times have I told you not to make up these stories?”
“I saw it.” Marik shrugged, as if that settled any doubt.
Hannah lifted her hand and cuffed the boy’s head, whilst Behrat shook his own and sighed heavily.
“That’s it, Hannah," he declared. “I'm afraid I won’t make excuses to the Council of Elders anymore. The time has come when I must put this village before you. You’ll have to leave if you can’t send the child away, for I now banish him officially from the lands of Shrotru.”
“Good,” the farmer nodded, taking his leave by letting himself out the door.
"Where are we to go, Behrat?" Hannah screeched. "You know I don't have any money."
"You have two ex-husband's," the Chief muttered. "One, who is an Imperial Prince. Perhaps, he shall find it in his heart to grant you a loan."
"Fuck you!" Hannah roared, reaching for a pan on Minka's stove, which was filled with tomatoes cooking into sauce. She thrust it at Behrat covering the Chief in the red pulp and causing Marik to break into peals of laughter and snort milk from his nose.
More shouting ensued, vile names were lobbed back and forth along with some fists, knees, feet, and a fork and spoon. By the time the chief escaped, he was dripping red from head to toe, some of it tomato and some of it blood. Minka's kitchen was destroyed, her table and chairs lay in shambles while Hannah stood on the porch shaking her fists.
"What should I do now?" Minka groaned for her own finances were limited, and to repair the wall and floor would take quite a lot.
On the other hand, her sister, Garinka was quite wealthy. In addition to having been married to a de Kudisha, she had authored a series of bestselling books. They were all about the MaKennah, who Garinka had raised through his teen years. Knowing him as she did, she believed he was Something More. Garinka had thus capitalized on her theories, although Minka thought her sister and her tales were all hogwash.
Having also known Senya de Kudisha in their youth, angelic was never a word that came to mind. Rather, he was more like Hannah’s young brat, wild and at times, utterly violent.
“We'll go to my sister," Minka decided, fetching the mop and a bucket of water. "She will give me a gift of coins if I ask. I shall use it to repair my house and in the meantime, leave Hannah and the child in Kudisha. Let the village chief there resolve the issue of what to do with them."
"Where?" Hannah asked, returning from the porch and catching only the tail end of Minka’s solitary conversation.
The child followed her inside, placidly eating his bread and smiling, whilst Minka explained where they would go.
"Or go anywhere you like," she snapped. "I don't care what you do. I'm doing you a favor to let you ride in my cart.
"I don’t want to go to Kudisha," Hannah protested, but the fight had gone out of her voice.
Once again, she was being forced to abandon her home. She was getting tired of always running, of being kicked out by those who she thought were her friends and sometimes, she was tired of dealing with this boy.
"Did you do it, Marik?" She dragged the child to the stairs. "Did you kill Farmer Torim's goat just for fun?"
"I didn't," the boy insisted. "It was the eagle, just like I said. He came from the sky and slew it while I watched."
"Nobody else saw it," Hannah snapped, swatting the child upon his butt. "Don't lie to me, Marik. Admit you made it all up. No one believes a mere bird could kill a full grown buck with horns. How you managed to do it all by yourself, I'll never know."
"I didn't. I didn't!" Marik cried, as Hannah spanked him a few more times. "It was black and huge and his feathers were white on the ends. I sat on the fence and watched the whole thing. He flew away with the goat's heart in his claw. He flew up in a tree, and I think that’s where he ate it. It was only after that when I decided to kill the farmer's lamb, and I did because it looked like fun."
Chapter 7
Luci had made a friend on Footbook. Her name was Anne, or at least that's what Luci thought. She had a small foot, perhaps only a size six or seven, although her toes were always dirty, and her nails were chipped.
"Are you certain about her, Mother Luci?" Marie inquired, when at dinner one night, Luci regaled her with a story that Anne had recently shared.
Anne and her husband, Harvey, had retired and were spending the time cruising the galaxy in an RV, staying at campgrounds and uncharted celestial destinations. It al
l sounded wonderful to Luci although she had never liked camping very much.
Actually, Luci hated camping. Since her childhood was filled with horrid memories of coyotes howling in the woods, and outhouses that smelled viscous and looked even more so, Luci had preferred five star destination resorts with hot and cold running water and abundant electrical power.
However, the idea of traveling with only Berkie, wandering off to wherever their hearts took them at any particular moment, brought a sad tear to Luci's eye and a nostalgic longing for the days when they were both so very young, poor, and violently in love.
"Oh, she's fine," Luci scoffed, swallowing a spoonful of dessert, which this night was a chocolate mousse Marie had personally prepared.
Marie was on a serious diet, hoping to lose about fifty pounds. Whether doing so would return Petya to her side, Luci highly doubted.
How unfair it was, Luci considered, that a man might stray when his wife lost the beauty and firmness of youth, yet he could remain pudgy, even corpulent, his title more attractive than his appearance.
"How interesting is this mousse," Luci declared, not wanting to hurt Marie's already fragile esteem.
In truth, the thing tasted vile, having been created from tofu and carob powder. Some odd calorie-free sweetener extracted from an alien plant provided the only hint of flavor to this otherwise bland concoction.
"It's very healthy," Marie insisted, anxiously watching Luci's face as the elder woman spooned another tiny dab into her mouth and forced her lips into something that resembled a smile.
"It does appear to be exceedingly healthy." Luci hoped that benign remark would satisfy Marie. "Unfortunately, I'm terribly full already, dear. My goodness, I simply couldn’t swallow another bite."
Luci, according to her personal physician, needed to gain weight. For the first time in her long life, she was slim, even skinny. The sanitarium and stress had done that to her. Unfortunately, although Luci could now dress in any fashion she wanted, she had nowhere to go, hence no reason to shop.
