“Farthdoran left.”
“No, he died.”
“And the difference is? We not only allowed him to die, but we also did the dirty deed.” Kymee waved his hands in frustration. “Clear conscience and all.”
“Please calm down and let this go. You acted independently, One That Is All censured you, which means nothing, and it’s done.”
“It’s as far from over as One That Is All is from being a fish.”
Yibitriander closed his eyes and rubbed the lids. “I believe you’re mixing a metaphor. Can we ease back on the anger here, please?”
“You are free to do whatever you like. No wait, I take that back. You’re as bound to obey as I am. We are, in fact, not free to do as we may. I can’t let this go. When there’s a next time, what’ll they do? What’ll I do?”
“Let’s not even discuss a repeat performance. That way we won’t stress over the consequences.”
“Do I look like I’m stressing? I’m not. I’m morally outraged. I’m deeply hurt. What’s more, I’m pissed. Don’t you see? They censured me for giving the humans the technology needed to not die as a species. In translation, it means One That Is All is completely indifferent whether evil triumphs and good people are murdered.”
“We are here…we have isolated ourselves on Oowaoa forever so as not to get involved.” Yibitriander stammered when he got upset..
“No. We returned home because we were a blight on the universe. We came here to better ourselves. That’s diametrically different than simple isolationism.”
“Yes. We are poison. So, we confined the poison and all its effects here.”
“I was there when we made the decision. You were too. We were forced to face the fact that we had become monsters. We decided it was morally imperative that we improve ourselves. We retreated home because it was the best way to stop our transcendent evil.”
“If I agree with you, will you stop lecturing me?”
“Yes. Unless of course you need further lecturing, in which case I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“I’m too old for this.” Yibitriander covered his face with all three palms. “I think I’ll call it a day, go live a cave, and cover the opening with rocks and brush.”
“You’re the dramatic one, aren’t you? What’s next? Theatrical productions? The public concerts for spare change?” Kymee smiled mischievously.
“I wish to make two serious points clear. One, there was support for your action among some of One That Is All. It didn’t rise to the level of dissent, but it was there. If you didn’t notice it, you should know it was present.”
“And two,” interrupted Kymee, “don’t ever do it again. That’s what you were going to say.”
“And your response was going to be that you’d never do it again unless there was just cause.”
“There you have it. We perfectly understand each other. Blood is thicker than complacent intellects.”
“Please mind the metaphors. They’re a privilege, not a right. If you can’t use them properly, don’t employ them at all.”
Kymee stuck his tongue out at his son.
“Oh, that’s a mature response. Now I feel so much better about your future safety.”
ELEVEN
Dolirca sat in her jail cell, alone and brokenhearted. The side of her head rested on her elbow and she stared out the window, seeing nothing of the lovely spring day. Children ran and played as their parents sat on benches and chatted in the shade. There was no joy, however, in Dolirca’s world. She was a tiny, tattered leaf adrift on a sea of hateful souls. Her uncle wanted her dead. The android human abomination wanted her pets dead. Her grandmother, the only person who loved her, was dead. Tata Sapale died trying to protect Dolirca, but even Tata failed. Maybe Tata wanted her dead too. That’s why she let the Berrillian kill her. Yes, it had been a pathetic excuse to avoid having to abandon Dolirca.
They all wanted to be rid of her because they were jealous and they knew she was right. Dolirca was born to rule Azsuram, not them. They were created to be led. There was nothing wrong with following a divine leader, nothing whatsoever. She offered them more than the total weight of their otherwise meaningless lives. That’s why they all turned their backs on her. They turned their backs and laughed at her because they were srimpil, living in the mud and consuming excrement. And everyone knew how to handle a swarm of srimpil. You burned their mud puddle and beat it with sticks. Let the srimpil survive and they would spread throughout the fields and no crops would grow.
A leader had to mind her fields. Those simple followers must have their daily rations. Dolirca must burn the srimpil, and she would most definitely beat them with a big stick. She must to protect her helpless servants, because she was a good and gracious queen empress. Then they’d all be sorry. They’d grovel, and they’d beg for their pointless lives. She, as a just ruler, would mete out their punishment. She would pound commonsense into their heads with an axe. Then there would be peace, love, and the return of hope. That was how life should be under a divine leader.
As Dolirca pondered her retribution and assent, a butterfly flittered in through the bars of her window. She was so preoccupied and vexed she didn’t take notice of it at first. It flew in jerking circles around her head several times before she sat up and focused on it. She had never seen a live butterfly. Pictures and holos to be certain, but never one in person. There were no butterflies on Azsuram. None on Kaljax, for that matter. The few that remained were on the human worldship fleet over three hundred light-years away.
She marveled at its delicate beauty, the lines of brightness and the patches of color. It was, for that moment, the most precious creature in the universe. It represented freedom from worry and confinement. She wished she could be a butterfly. She would soar to the sky and never return to the dismal world of people and lies and hate.
“Aren’t you the prettiest thing there’s ever been?” she asked the insect as it gyrated though the air. “But where did you come from? Your species doesn’t exist here. That wicked robot would never bring in an invasive Earth species to the planet he conquered. He would hate your beauty and grace, aspects it fully lacks.”
She held out her finger. The butterfly initially jerked away, then it gently landed on her.
“Oh my. You are the precious one. I almost forget how much I miss One and Two when I look at you.”
She swung her finger gently from side to side and sang an ancient lullaby to the bug.
Spirit of beauty and spirit of love, you are such a precious gift from above; You will always own my heart and soul, and together we shall make one whole.
When she was done, she slipped the butterfly to her other hand and drew it to her face. “My name is Dolirca. I am pleased to meet you. I only wish I knew your name, so we could be the best of friends forever.”
“I am Callophrys,” said the insect in a lilting whisper that sounded like tiny bells ringing.
Dolirca snapped her hand away, and the butterfly floated up slowly.
“Do not be angry at me, Dolirca. I wish only to be your friend,” responded the butterfly.
“But… butterflies can’t talk.”
“I can. That is all you need to believe. Please,” said Callophrys plaintively as she landed on Dolirca’s shoulder, “don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad. I could never be mad at you, sweet Callophrys. I was just surprised. Yes, that is it. I was startled. That is all.”
“Then you will be my friend?”
“Oh yes, dearest, I will be always. I am so in need of a friend, and you are so pretty. How could we not be the best of friends?”
Callophrys rose in the air and flitted happily. “You have made me so happy. I have a new friend. Tomorrow, I will visit my friend and we will talk.”
The butterfly flew toward the window.
“But why can’t you stay now and visit. I’m so lonely.”
“I must feed my children, sweetest Dolirca. I hear them cry for their supper. But I w
ill be back soon and we shall become sisters.”
“Until tomorrow, dearest Callophrys. Kiss your children on the forehead from me.”
“I will, and I will kiss your children from you too.”
Callophrys was swept up by a strong breeze and was gone.
The next day, the butterfly returned as promised. She sat again on Dolirca’s shoulder and told her tales of fair maidens and handsome princes. Callophrys sang ballads about places so far away they could only be visited in one’s imagination. She praised Dolirca to an extent that would have embarrassed most people. But Dolirca listened to each compliment with acceptance and every affirmation with agreement. Callophrys was wise to see those qualities so hidden to everyone she lived with.
The following day, Callophrys visited for longer. She spun yarns of magical realms where the beautiful and the just were always the same. And the butterfly brought gifts. Despite her featherweight, she bore the most enrapturing flower to Dolirca. It smelled of everything nice. Home, children, good food, and loving companionship. Dolirca was most impressed that she’d never seen the flower on Azsuram before. Callophrys knew of such rarities, hidden so completely from the eyes of the busy locals.
For three days, the butterfly did not come. Dolirca worried that her uncle must have seen its visits and hunted Callophrys down and killed her. But, her friend did find her way back to Dolirca’s prison cell. Callophrys brought gifts of sweet cakes and waters so pure they sparkled in Dolirca’s mouth as she drank them. The stories the butterfly brought were not full of joy and wonder. Callophrys told of people ruining her forest, killing her children, and chasing her so they could wear her wings on their faces as decorations. She cried for her lost babies and worried that soon, there would be no beauty on Azsuram. Night, she lamented, was coming.
“I won’t let them harm you, sweet friend,” said Dolirca with tears streaming down her cheeks.
“But how can you help? You are locked in here like a criminal. I know I am safe when I’m with you, but once I fly past those bars, I am prey to all who are evil and want the light go out in this world.”
“I will help you—on my life I will. Once I’m free, I will guard you. Together we will drive out the wicked, and this world will be one of love.”
“I can help you escape, if you’d like,” said little Callophrys.
“How can you, my precious? You are so small and these walls too thick.”
Callophrys flew to the lock. She poked her proboscis in the opening and shook it mightily. The mechanism clicked loudly and the door creaked open. She led Dolirca past two sleeping guards and opened the next door. She was free.
The butterfly lit on her shoulder and asked where they would go next.
“To free my guards.”
Dolirca ran to the zoo, over the turnstile, and right to her pets’ cages. She ran with such abandon that she did not notice Callophrys had gone.
“One!” she shouted to her pet. “Oh, Two, there you are.”
She jumped over the railing and tried to muscle the cage door open. It was locked. She looked around wildly for Callophrys to ask her friend to pick this lock too. But the butterfly was nowhere to be seen. Instead, three guards were running toward her, yelling into their handhelds.
Two guards tackled her while the third retrieved a length of rope to bind her.
“Where are you, Callophrys?” shouted Dolirca. “I need your help. Kill these cruel men. Do not let them lock me up again.”
But still Callophrys did not come. More guards came. Finally, her uncle ran over.
“How the hell did you get out?” he screamed at her. He was very angry. “Why did you kill those two guards? Did you have to kill them? Dory, you must stop killing people.”
What was he saying? Her guards slept. No one killed them. There was another hateful lie. She hated JJ with all her heart.
“I didn’t kill them, and Callophrys couldn’t hurt anyone.”
JJ assumed Callophrys was one of Dory’s supporters, but he was unfamiliar with the name. “Who the hell is Callophrys, and where is he?”
“I don’t know. I think you scared her away. She’s free, flying in the trees, looking for her dead children. You murdered her children and she must find them.”
Dolirca lunged and kicked at her uncle. The guards held her more tightly.
“She’s where? I did what?”
“You heard me. She’s gone where you can’t catch her and display her on your face.”
“Dory, honey, what are you talking about? Is Callophrys a person?”
“No. Don’t ask me that. You know she isn’t. Why do you taunt and bait me? You know she’s a butterfly and she’s beautiful and she’s my only friend.”
“Dory, are you saying an insect that has never lived on Azsuram came to your aide? A butterfly killed two grown men?”
Dory was sicker than he’d ever imagined. She was completely insane.
“Callophrys set me free, but she didn’t kill anyone.”
“Take her back to her cell,” shouted JJ to the guards. “And have the tech re-key the lock. Only I am to have the code. Is that clear?”
They acknowledged his order as three of them dragged Dolirca away. In the background, the Toe howled in angry protestation from their confinement.
TWELVE
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have called this meeting to update you on the Berrillian situation. Please come to order.”
That should have been Katashi Matsumoto’s actual first name: Order. Dude was highly in favor of it. When I was particularly bored during a session with the admiral, I’d trip about what it would be like to be his butler or to have sex with him. The order, right-way wrong-way thing would be a barrier to easy interactions. Hey, sometimes I got really bored.
“Dr. De Jesus has been at the lead, so I’ll have him present the essentials,” said Katashi as he sat down.
“Thank you. Over the last few months we’ve established a pretty clear picture of the Berrillians’ scale and intent. You have documents in front of you displaying their main bases, areas of manufacturing, and approximate numbers in terms of population concentrations.”
The woman next to me whistled loudly.
“Yes,” responded Toño, “there are a lot of them out there.”
“How could they come to control so many worlds?” asked Jason Kaserian, chief assistant to Bin Li.
“They’re ferocious, merciless and focused,” I replied, “that’s how. It’s a lesson we can never forget.” I rapped the stack of papers with a knuckle. “I’d bet my bottom credit there were people on all these worlds just as talented and determined as we are. They staged the best defense they could and were conquered. The Berrillians win by numbers and an absolute disregard for their own individual lives.”
“God help us,” said Alexis Gore grimly.
“I got an amen for that,” I replied.
“Let us focus on our options, not on the metaphysical,” snapped Katashi.
“So, our AIs have screened an enormous number of their documents, communications, and troop movements. A clear picture has emerged as to their plans regarding us. Their supreme leader, Anganctus, has ordered an all-out attack on the worldship fleet.”
The few who didn’t already know that information gasped.
“Yes. A frightening prospect, forewarned or not,” replied Toño. “They are aware we must possess some weapon they cannot counter, since General Ryan defeated their latest incursion so decisively.” He looked at me as if to ask what the hell it was. “Anganctus’s strategy is simple. He will flood us with thinly spread out forces in immense numbers. He correctly assumes our main weapon is limited in number. He mentions he can’t imagine why it is, but he’s guessed that it is.”
“Or at least he hopes it is. He cannot know,” remarked Katashi.
“This is correct. He also has the humans and the Deavoriath well scrambled up in his mind. I don’t know if he thinks they are our allies or if he confuses the humans with the Deavoriath.�
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“I don’t see an advantage in that flaw we could use against him,” said Vice Admiral Kipchoge Kipsang.
“No,” was Katashi’s terse response.
“We have also compiled a fairly grim picture of life on the occupied worlds. I will spare you the details in the interest…”
“No,” thundered Katashi. “I want everyone to fully understand the price of failure. Please provide us with the details of Berrillian subjugation.”
Toño looked quite uncomfortable and wavered. “Upon seizing a planet, they make it unequivocally theirs. All acquisitions have three roles and three roles alone. One is the production of war materials. They readily incorporate any local innovations, but the entire industrial might of the subjected world is coopted for Berrillian purposes.
“Second, the conquered world’s entire food production capabilities are converted to the Berrillian’s needs. One of their first acts is to package what they term non-essential populations into food stores.”
“You have to be kidding. That’s abominable,” said a lower level diplomat I didn’t know.
“Nevertheless, the bulk of the sentient and non-sentient animals on the planet are killed and preserved for later consumption.”
“But, if they treat the native population so horrendously, why don’t the locals rebel? I would. I mean, choose my family being cooked and eaten versus fighting back. I know what I’d do,” said that same junior diplomat.
“Two factors mitigate such resistance. First, families of those dubbed essential are prioritized to the bottom of the kill list. Second, anyone essential who balks at the arrangement or is felt to be dragging their heels is sent to a sporting cage. The person in question is placed in a cage with a Berrillian. It is considered both sport and entertainment.”
“For the big cats, that is. Not so much for the guy running like hell,” I added.
“We really have to kill these animals,” said the diplomat as he covered his mouth.
“I agree. That leads me to the third function of a Berrillian-run world. Reproduction. The Berrillians reproduce at a spectacular rate. Matings are assigned and the offspring reared in communal settings to keep the entire process moving along as rapidly as possible. Obviously, the food production aspect of their overall strategy allows this to proceed quickly.”
Forever Series 5: The Forever Alliance Page 5
