Recycled

by Selina Rosen

  Ralling nodded and hit the button on his video phone. There she sat, the reigning Barion Queen, flanked by some strange reptilian alien and their country's High Chancellor, Facto.

  She was examining her nails, and took several moments to make eye contact. Her way, he supposed, of showing utter contempt for them.

  When she spoke she said simply, "Fellows, we've got us a little problem."

  "What we've got is a war," Ralling said hotly.

  "Hey . . . you started it."

  "We asked for trade agreements, and you tossed them in our face," Trailings said.

  "Now see, that's the shit right there. Our country . . . Well, we've had a wee little problem with our upper class. It was our—mine and my dear departed husband's—every intention to sign trade agreements with you. Unfortunately, we weren't aware that the nobles were attempting a coup until it was too late. We will shortly have things back under control . . ."

  "You attacked one of our battle cruisers . . ." Ralling started.

  "Hey, don't interrupt me, rat fucker. Your cowardly battle cruiser attacked me, and your bullshit about me being in a frigate fully loaded with weapons and all that crap is just that, bullshit. I was in one of my friggin' salvaging vessels, an imperial class salvaging barge, but a barge all the same. Your people fired on me. I defended my ship and my crew. If your people hadn't been damned inept, and if I wasn't the best fighter pilot in this galaxy—ah, screw the humble crap—the fucking universe, I'd be in pieces in the Galdart Desert instead of them. As it was, I had to crash land in a lake, which was really messy."

  She obviously wasn't intimidated by his lofty position, but then why should she be? He was only a president who had lots of people to answer to; she was queen, the king was dead, and as such she had no one to answer to for her actions. As soon as this whole war thing was over, he was going to see if he couldn't get them to make him king.

  "How dare you speak to me in this manner!" he said, thinking of nothing else to say.

  "Ah, let's cut through the crap. We don't want a war. If you will call off your war, we will sign treaties and trade agreements with you. We will even send advisors to teach your people how to set up for recycling . . ."

  "Why should we make deals with you?" General Tryte said."You attacked our capital. Tens of thousands were killed . . ."

  "I didn't do shit. I told you already that was the nobles. I'm back in command now, and I have the power to call off the attacks . . ."

  "We are militarily superior to you . . ."

  The queen laughed loudly at Tryte's suggestion."How do you figure that? Our economy has been thriving. We're taking in billions in tax revenue monthly. What do you think we have been doing with all that money? Maybe shoving it up our asses?"

  "We've done many reconnaissance missions, and we know that you have scrapped out much of your weaponry. We know that we are militarily superior, and that there is no way that you can win a long term war against us."

  "Apparently more money buys better spies as well, because the way we understand it, we are by far militarily superior to you. If you insist on continuing this idiocy, we will stomp your butt into oblivion." She never even blinked.

  "Thousands of our people are dead . . . they must be avenged. We will not back down. We know your reputation well, and know that you lie as easily as most people tell the truth," Tryte said.

  "Ah, now that hurts," she said in mock agony. Then she glared back at them, no hint of fear in her cold blue eyes."This is one bluff you don't want to call. No one shall win in a battle between our two countries, and many shall lose. You more than us, but I prefer to stop the death now and get on with the business of commerce."

  Tryte bent down and whispered in Ralling's ear."I know it looks like we are losing so far . . . but I swear to you that there is no way that we can lose this war. When we win, then all that they have will be ours. Why should we share when we can have it all?"

  Ralling nodded and glared back at the Barion queen."There will be no truce. We cannot and will not let our dead go unavenged. We will totally smite you, and to the victor go the spoils."

  Trailings bent down and whispered in his ear."Don't do this. It's in our best interest to make a truce, to go for the trade agreements. There is no way of knowing whether we are militarily superior or not. She's right on at least one count: in this war no one will win."

  Trailings' objections more or less sealed the deal for him. He looked at the queen again and addressed the smug look on her face."In my country we care about more than just profit. We are a proud people, and when we are victorious, we shall no longer walk cowed, but will hold our heads up high . . ."

  "Yeah, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you." She closed the transmission, and he was looking at a blank screen.

  "What the hell have you done to us?" Trailings asked, literally tugging at his hair.

  "I have insured that the future of our country is one of wealth and prosperity instead of poverty and despair." Ralling glared at Tryte, and said with meaning, "Isn't that right, Tryte?"

  Tryte nodded emphatically.

  "So what now, military idiots?" Trailings demanded.

  "We attack. We attack hard and fast while they're still dealing with their internal problems. We make a giant hole in their landscape and even the score," Tryte answered."We hit Hepron Station as we planned to, only with even more fire power."

  "Well?" Facto asked. Dylan had taken over the job of babysitting the queen's sister, and he was once again doing his actual job, head Councilor to the Monarch.

  "Well what?" Drew asked, taking a drink from the beer bottle she held in her hand.

  "Are they militarily superior to us?"

  "You're head councilor. You know this shit. What do you think?" Drew asked hotly.

  "That while we've turned much of our weapons of mass destruction into scrap and sold it, and turned many of our munitions plants into recycling venues, they have continued to build their war machine . . ."

  Drew took over from him, probably just to prove that she was up on what was going on."However, the weapons we have replaced some of those with are bigger and better. Our military manpower is as large and far better trained. We would win the war, but it would be a long and bitter uphill battle, and an economic nightmare. Many of our people would be killed, both military and civilian. Not at all a very profitable endeavor. Well, send in the news guys, and let's get this over with."

  Facto nodded and left.

  "So what we going to do?" Arcadia asked when he was gone.

  "I'm going to give a very good 'Let's go kick their asses speech,' and then you and Dylan and I are going to empty out the safe and get the hell off this rock. We'll meet Van Gar in space and find another location for our salvaging operation, and then we'll evacuate all our people from this planet," Drewcila said.

  Arcadia looked a little shocked."You'd really do that? Leave these people without leadership? Take away their livelihoods?"

  "Hey . . . they're fuckin' up my business!"

  "Give me ten more," the queen addressed them from behind her desk. She was on a comlink, so they could only hear her side of the conversation."I just saw the report where ol Atario first admitted to killing Zarco and then bought the big one. I am now sole ruler of Barious. As such, you are now under my command, General . . . I tried, the Lockhedes will not back off . . . First, I want you to launch an attack on the nobles in the castle. Shoot to kill. I want every last one of them out of the castle, my staff returned to their posts there, and a mint on my pillow by sunrise tomorrow morning. Second, I want you to put the military on the highest possible alert, with double man power around the capital and all the spaceports and major recycling centers. The real bone of contention for the Lockhedes is that we live so much better than they do, so they're going to target our economic areas . . . I'm glad to be back, too. Now go kill some nobles and make me proud."

  She hung up the phone and put a cigar in her mouth. Arcadia almost tripped over her tail to light it.
The queen took a long drag on it and let it out, making smoke rings as she did so."You there," she pointed at one of the grips who then pointed at himself and said: "Me?"

  "Yeah, you. You're sitting on my ice chest."

  He jumped up like his butt was on fire."A million pardons, my Queen."

  The queen smiled broadly."It's all right if you sit on my ice chest, I was just wondering if you'd bring me a beer. My throat gets awful dry when I'm smoking and giving a 'Here's how we save the planet' speech." The man opened the chest, reached in and pulled out a beer. He brought it carefully to the queen and handed it to her."Thanks . . . Arcadia?" she asked holding up the beer.

  "No thanks," Arcadia told the man, who then sat upon the ice chest as if it were a great honor.

  Drew popped the cap off the beer on the corner of her desk and then took a long drink before she looked up at Dartan."All right, let's get this trash out of the can."

  Dartan nodded and said, "Going live in five, four, three, two . . ."

  "Are we on now?" Drew asked. To which Dartan nodded anxiously."All righty then. Here's the shit, gang. Zarco and I wanted to sign trade agreements with the Lockhedes. This would have helped to stabilize their economy, made us a shit load of money, and brought us a lasting peace. The nobles—what a bunch of bastards—am I right? Well, of course I am, being right is what being queen is all about. Anyway, these rich fucks, they forced Zarco to give some speech about how he wanted us to go to war, and a bunch of other flowery crap about returning the glory of our country, yada yada yada. Well, I knew that was shit, so I came back here, and, well, you more or less know what went down, since that rat Atario just confessed on the other network . . . Sorry about that one, Dartan."

  Dartan smiled and shrugged.

  Drewcila continued."Our troops even now are moving to attack the nobles still hold up in the castle, and the governor general has assured me that they will all be dead by morning. Our real problem is that they have already started this war with the Lockhedes. I personally shot down the Artvail, and I hope the people of Lockhede can hear and see this, because they are being fed the same sort of misinformation that you were. They are being told that our vessel fired on their battle cruiser. My people, this was not the case. I mean . . . do I look fucking stupid? It was a battle cruiser—the biggest in their fleet. I'm flying in one of my salvaging ships with minimal armaments. They fired on us, and it's only by luck that I was able to avoid being shot out of the sky and save myself and my crew. It was never my intention to bring down their ship, merely to defend my own. It was a freak accident that their ship went down the way it did. My own ship had to crash land. So why on Barious would I have attacked that big battle cruiser? No, they attacked me. They attacked me because they were big, and they didn't know who they were messing with." She paused a moment for effect, then continued.

  "I called the leaders of Lockhede and tried to offer them a peace agreement and the trade agreement they originally asked for. They wanted none of it. The Lockhede people are not our enemies, it's only their leaders. Leaders that, like our own nobles have done to us, force their people to do things they know are wrong. Still . . . like it or not, we are going to have to pull out the big guns and start kicking some Lockhede butt. They don't really understand what they are up against. They fight us because they have nothing to lose. Their country is a poverty stricken cesspool, and their people are starving.

  "We on the other hand, have a standard of living worth fighting for. We aren't the mollycoddled pampered pussies they seem to think we are. We took out the largest of their battle cruisers and decimated their capital, and we weren't even really trying. Imagine the devastation when we actually go after them! If they so much as fart in our direction, we will be going after them with everything we've got, and we won't stop till they either surrender or Lockhede is nothing but a smoking hole. I will be moving from one location to another in order to keep the Lockhedes from attempting to kidnap me as they have done in the past, or kill me as the nobles tried to do. You may not see or hear from me for weeks at a time. But do not lose heart. Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I'm not here. Good night."

  "My Queen, there are questions about the current state of our military. Can we really trust them? Are they on our side, or are they working for the nobles?" Dartan asked.

  "Our military took orders from the head of the country. Not an easy thing to do when no one's really sure who's running things. They will take my orders, they will do what's best for the country. They are not now, and never were, part of the coup attempt."

  "Are you afraid for your own life?"

  "We are at war, people. Every man, woman, and child should be in fear for their life tonight. This isn't a game. They have weapons of mass destruction, but so do we. The sooner we can talk some sense into their stupid leaders' heads, the better it will be for everyone," Drewcila said.

  "What arrangements will be made concerning the king's burial? Will there be a national service? A quiet family one?"

  "A dead body is a dead body. The king's problems are over. We are at war, and I hardly think it's a good idea to bring myself and large numbers of our statesmen and the heads of our military together for such a thing. Might as well pull our pants down and paint bullseyes on our butts. A service will be held when and where we think it's appropriate. No prior knowledge will be given out. It will be small. The people should grieve in their own ways, maybe light a candle."

  "My Queen . . ."

  "I'm sorry, Dartan, but I have places to go and things to do." She stood up and started out of the room with Arcadia and Facto following behind her. She stopped at the doorway and turned to look at them as a group."Ah, nothing personal, but you guys need to get out of my office. You know . . . I'm leaving, you should leave."

  Dartan nodded."It will take us a minute."

  "Lock up when you go."

  Drew stopped the disk and turned towards her sister."See, you see, now I think someone owes someone else a little thing called an apology."

  "Zarco's still dead, Drewcila. No, you didn't actually kill him, but you wanted him dead. If you had brought him with us, he might still be alive. You heard what Atario said, if you were dead he wouldn't have killed Zarco." Stasha, who had stopped crying, started all over again.

  "Screw you then. I give up. There's no pleasing you. You'd rather I was dead than Zarco? What a hateful thing to say. Why, if they were talking to me—and if they didn't love you better—I'd call our mother and father and tell on you," Drew said nodding her head. She was trying to sound flip, and hoped she had succeeded, because it was in fact bugging the living shit out of her that Stasha was so mad at her, that she had said she hated her. To add to her problems, Van Gar had been very suspicious when she had asked him to stay in orbit instead of landing, and Arcadia was trying so hard not to look like she was pouting that it was obvious to everyone that she was. Although she hadn't told Facto her plans, it was obvious that he'd figured out from her speech that she was planning to bolt, and he just kept giving her this 'very disappointed' look, which seemed to have the ability to make her want to confess to crimes she hadn't even committed.

  Everyone seemed to be hell-bent on judging her for something, and the truth was that she really didn't understand why. Maybe when they were taking out the part of her brain that held her previous memories, they had also removed the part that was able to comprehend why everyone she had any personal relationship with immediately became completely and totally unreasonable.

  She found that their obvious disapproval, anger, and indignation was making it incredibly difficult to be wantonly selfish and self-serving, which was putting her completely off her game. She had this strange, unusual urge to somehow try to please them all, and that just wasn't like her at all.

  It must be some residual effect of the poison.

  An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room. Everyone seemed to be looking at her, as if waiting for her to rationalize and make excuses for her actions, both in recent
and ancient history. Except she didn't think anything she had done was really wrong, and even if it was she certainly didn't care . . . except that it was driving her crazy that they were all varying degrees of pissed off at her. She glared around the room at them for several minutes, daring one of them to say . . . well, anything at all. Nobody said anything. They just stood there, silently bombarding her psyche with varying degrees of displeasure till she could stand it no longer.

  "Screw all of you!" She threw up her hands and stormed out of the room. Arcadia and Dylan followed her out and ran to catch up with her as she stomped down the hall. She stopped suddenly and turned on them, causing them to crash into each other."You can only come with me if you think you can quit judging me."

  "Judging you? Shit, Drew! What the fuck are you talking about? I ain't judging you," Dylan said in a confused tone. She glared at him as if trying to read his mind, then she swung on Arcadia."But you are . . . !"