Chapter Two
There has to be something better than this! Two weeks behind a desk shuffling papers is not what I had in mind!
Since arriving on Vertullis, Davi’s only excuse to get out of his office had been occasional forays to check on operations. His days consisted of report after report from subordinates and superiors: requests for upped production times, reports on incidents involving workers or fellow soldiers, etc. Despite his responsibility for numerous squads of men supervising farm workers in the region south of Iraja, his big adventure had turned out to be anything but.
Never had Davi so wanted to blast off an e-post to his Uncle begging him to pull strings and get him out of there! He cringed at the thought of how his uncle might respond. Xalivar never responded well to any sign of weakness. Davi’s head hurt from thinking about it all. Either my head’s going to explode or I’m going crazy.
The communicator beeped. A major from Administration had invited him on a tour to show him around. Finally, a chance to get out of this office! Davi pushed his chair back from his desk like a rocket and stood, hurrying to meet his host.
He met Major Isak Zylo at the shuttle port near the administrative offices. As Davi appeared, Zylo smiled and extended his hand.
“Pleasure to see you again, Captain.” Short with broad shoulders, Zylo’s light skin seemed bright against the grayness of his uniform. His red hair and beard were both sleek and well groomed.
“Please, call me Davi. I think there’s no need for such formalities among officers when they’re alone,” Davi said.
Zylo smiled, an impressed look in his eyes, and relaxed noticeably. “Indeed. Call me Isak. Shall we be off?” As Davi nodded, Zylo turned quickly led him aboard the shuttle. Moments later, the doors closed.
Unlike the shuttles Davi had flown in before, this shuttle had been designed for in-atmosphere tours like theirs. Except for the thin framework, its top half consisted of transparent materials several inches thick, enabling passengers to enjoy an almost three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the world around them. Davi and Zylo sat on swiveling chairs atop a raised dais in the center of the shuttle, enabling them to turn in any direction at a moment’s notice with just the flick of a foot. The Ensign piloting followed a major artery out of the city and headed toward the agricultural fields to the south. Now that Davi had set the informal tone, Zylo looked totally relaxed, but Davi found himself nervous and excited. His stomach fluttered and his throat grew dry. Ironic, given that usually others were more unsettled in his presence than he was in theirs.
Downtown high-rises slid past as they left the starport then gave way to residential neighborhoods. Houses of all shapes, sizes, and colors surrounded them, the streets here noticeably less hectic than those of the city center. The constant chattering of people mixed with music blasting from electronic billboards floating overhead. Moments later, they reached the outskirts of the city and the landscape changed. His ears filled with the sound of his and Zylo’s breathing, the shuttle’s flight computer, red zinga birds’ gentle singing and eight-legged insectoid amblygids’ chirping, forming a pleasant drone.
As they entered the agricultural region, buildings stood further apart amidst great stretches of farms and grazing land. Transportation corridors ran throughout linking buildings to each other and to the capital. Workers tended herds of gungor and daken, while others ran harvesting machines.
From what he’d seen, the Vertullians lived up to none of his expectations. The workers didn’t seem lazy or troublesome or at all subhuman. Instead, they performed their tasks as if they enjoyed themselves and required very little supervision. If there hadn’t been soldiers guarding key points and supervising some of the work sites, he might not have even remembered the Vertullians were slaves.
As Davi watched the workers, Zylo smiled. “Have you had much experience with workers?”
“Not really,” Davi said, turning back toward his companion. “Nothing beyond some reports.”
“Ah, yes, the workers’ reports,” Zylo said, his voice rising in pitch as irritation flashed in his eyes. “‘The quotas are unreasonable and unfair. The Alliance’s demands are abusive.’ You shouldn’t give much credence to most of what they say. These people love to complain.” He shook his head, his mouth crinkling with disdain at every word.
“You think there’s nothing to them?”
“I think we should expect nothing less from a people like the Vertullians,” Zylo said.
The Major’s defensiveness puzzled Davi. He’d studied the history of animosity between the Vertullians and his own people, and from what he’d read, it seemed his people had often provoked the Vertullians. In any case, they’d never put up much of a fight. Conquered time and again throughout history, they’d fled the Earth and settled on Vertullis when their ship developed an engine problem. Upon discovering who their neighbors were, they tried to forget the past and sue for peace, but the Legallians conquered them again. They’d been slaves ever since.
The history books overflowed with stories about the laziness of the troublemaking workers, but Davi knew enough to suspect at least some of it was propaganda. He refused to form an opinion about them yet.
Desiring him to think for himself rather than simply conforming to society’s views, Miri had arranged special tutors to expose her son to the writings of classic philosophers from Old Earth like Holmes, Locke, and John Stuart Mill. He’d read Martin Luther and Erasmus and many others. From these books, he’d come to believe in the inherent dignity of man and man’s right to free will and self-determination. While he also believed in the superiority of the Borali Alliance—the greatest society in the history of humankind—his exposure to life on Vertullis had him wrestling all over again with issues he’d debated over and over in his youth.
It wasn’t like he had anything personal at stake. He’d never known any workers, but they seemed as human as he was. According to his professors, their continual failure to defend themselves reflected on their validity and equality as men. Still, he found himself wondering how they’d come to lose the freedom he believed all men deserved.
As they passed a clearing, he took in rows of workers assembled beside a barn to watch as soldiers administered punishment to another worker. The guilty man had been strapped to some sort of electrical wires which disappeared into the barn. The soldier questioning him shocked him every time he gave a dissatisfactory answer. Davi flinched, averting his gaze as his eyebrows lowered and pinched together. It disturbed him to see such a thing out in the open.
Zylo’s hand on his shoulder drew Davi’s focus away from the scene he’d been watching. “Sometimes we have to make examples of them so the others will learn.”
“What could he have done to deserve that?” Davi wondered aloud, trying to conceal his horror.
“He was born a worker. They may be human but, trust me, they are not as evolved as our people. No sense of responsibility. They need to be motivated,” Zylo said. Conviction dripped from him like sweat.
A group of soldiers leaned against the barn and laughed as they watched. To Davi, it seemed less about serious discipline and more about entertaining the soldiers at the workers’ expense, but having heard Zylo’s acceptance of it, he held his tongue.
“You know the history, of course. The Vertullians have long been the enemies of our people. Inferior thinkers—they have only one god, no respect for power, no ambition. The work gives their lives meaning. Left alone they’d all be aimless with no real purpose or direction,” Zylo said. It was the standard justification historians and pundits used for the Boralian’s treatment of their ancient enemies.
Davi stared out the window as the shuttle flew past the clearing and into a small city called Araial, landing near the small downtown.
“I thought you’d like to see more than the agricultural areas,” Zylo said as they stepped out onto the tarmac. “Workers are also employed in factories and maintenance in most of the cities.”
The first thing Davi noticed was that the air here seemed lighter, clean and refreshing, unlike in Iraja itself or in Legon where he’d grown up. Only the hiss of the wind blowing through the trees pierced the calm around him—a silence like he’d never experienced before.
They walked along between a row of buildings with eight or nine stories, instead of the minimum fifteen or twenty found in Iraja or on Legallis.
“Araial has a population around one hundred fifty thousand. It’s small, but nice as outer cities go,” Zylo said.
Davi followed Zylo around a corner and saw two soldiers with a worker backed against a wall between two buildings.
“For almost a week now you’ve failed to meet your quota,” the taller soldier said.
“I try, sir, I do. The new quotas are impossible,” the worker pleaded, his voice shaking, his face filled with fear.
“The Alliance sets the quotas, not the workers,” said the shorter soldier with a cocky grin.
“Your job is to meet them,” the taller soldier added.
Davi watched the worker’s eyes. He didn’t appear to be making excuses. Instead, he appeared to be struggling to remain upright.
The shorter soldier poked him hard in the chest. “Did you think you could stop doing your work and keep making us look bad without any consequences?”
The worker shook his head, confused. “No, I—”
“Maybe we need to teach you a lesson.” The taller soldier rolled his eyes as both soldiers grinned.
“No, please. I’ll work harder,” the worker said, backing away.
The taller soldier took a club from his belt and started banging it on the wall, inches from the worker’s head. Wood splintered under the impact as nearby windowpanes rattled. The worker trembled in fear.
“You’ve said the same thing every day this week!” the taller soldier responded as he swung the club again and again.
Davi tensed, his nostrils flaring as he started toward them, preparing to interfere.
Zylo grabbed his arm. “Let them handle this!”
Davi was shocked. “They’re going to beat him!”
“He probably deserves it,” Zylo said, unconcerned. “We get nothing but trouble from these workers.”
“Nothing justifies cruel abuse of another human being,” Davi snapped, yanking his arm free.
“These workers don’t qualify for the term ‘human,’” Zylo said with growing irritation. “You might want to know the situation before you decide to interfere with our soldiers doing their duty.”
“Their duty is to make sure the workers stay on task, meet their quotas—”
“Their duty is to do whatever it takes to maintain the workers’ production levels and focus,” Zylo’s cheeks reddened as he shot Davi a reproaching look. “Maybe someone who’s been on the planet only a couple of weeks should observe first before rushing in. Lord Xalivar’s order authorized whatever’s necessary to keep the workers in line. The Prince of all people should know these policies come from the top.”
Davi did know but he’d never imagined anything like what he was seeing. “He didn’t mean this,” he said, matching Zylo’s accusing stare. He hadn’t known about this specific order. Could his uncle have authorized such barbaric means? He wanted to respect his uncle, yet what he had seen conflicted with what he knew in his soul to be right and just.
“Come on. There are other things I wanted to show you.” Zylo grabbed Davi’s arm and led him on past the soldiers across a well-groomed lawn. Soft grass bent with each step, cushioning his feet. Davi ignored the hand on his arm, realizing that here he was just another officer, not a Royal whom touching casually was forbidden by law. Clearly, he had a lot to get used to.
Over the next two hours, Zylo and Davi toured a few factories and then the city works warehouse where workers bore responsibility for keeping the city’s parks and transportation corridors in top condition—picking up garbage, clearing debris, and tending landscaping and plants.
At his desk again, late that afternoon, Davi couldn’t get his mind off what he’d witnessed. He stared at a plant on the windowsill next to his framed diploma from the military Academy. They amounted to the only decorating he’d had time for. Sparse light reflected off the standard gray paint common to government offices. His standard chair sat next to a standard desk buried under piles of files, in queue for the file cabinet behind him. Occupying space between stacks of papers were his computer terminal and communicator. The blandness of the room matched his mood, though he couldn’t keep his eyes off the plant, a gift from the ambassador he’d met at the palace. It stood as the sole living object in the midst of dreary desolation.
His mother and teachers had taught him principles of law and ethics, intrinsic human rights, and the fundamental value of life. His uncle Xalivar seemed far from sympathetic, and they’d often had hearty debates during which he’d learned his uncle had a different perspective on the world than his. Even though their discussions had always ended with respect and understanding, Davi couldn’t bring himself to respect orders calling for such cruel abuse. Perhaps the rumors he’d heard from other cadets had some basis in fact. How could the uncle who’d been like a father to him have hidden such a dark side all these years?
He turned on his computer terminal and fired off an e-post to his mother. She would know the truth. It amazed him she’d never spoken about it before. Did she agree with what was happening?
O O O
The next day, Davi travelled out to the farm where Farien oversaw a team of soldiers who supervised workers. The farm itself was larger than Davi had expected with acres of land stretching off for miles and dozens of barns, warehouses and processing buildings, giving Farien a great deal of responsibility, despite his disappointment at not being assigned to a higher position. Neither one of them seemed to be living a high adventure, but at least Farien got to work at the heart of things. Though they hadn’t seen each other since their arrival on the planet, Davi hoped to keep their relationship friendly, despite the discomfort either might feel at Davi being Farien’s supervisor.
Sounds of livestock, humming engines, and whining servos filled his ears as Davi stepped off the shuttle. Fresh air filled his lungs, as he found Farien leaning against a fence, watching two soldiers load injured workers into a hospital shuttle. Davi took care to move up behind him unnoticed.
“Neglecting your duties, Lieutenant?” Davi said, smiling. The smell of bean plants and grain filled his nose.
Farien snapped to attention on instinct, his face falling as he expected to be reprimanded. “We had an incident with some angry bulls today.” Seeing it was Davi, he relaxed.
Davi laughed, stepping up beside his friend at the fence.
“Nothing which would keep them off task for more than a couple of days at best,” Farien continued. “Little more exciting than the paper cuts and headaches you supervisors are prone to, Captain.”
“Stop rubbing it in, okay?” He would always consider them peers.
Farien shrugged, suppressing a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Davi motioned for Farien to walk with him. Farien turned to the soldiers by the shuttle. “I want an incident report by the end of the hour, okay? Get back to your duties.” From the look on his face and his tone of voice, Farien enjoyed being in command. “What’s up?” He turned back to Davi as they walked along the fence together.
Davi began filling him in on his conversation with Zylo the day before and the things he’d witnessed. “I’m wondering if you’ve witnessed any incidents of abuse,” he asked as he finished.
“Well, it would depend upon how you define abuse,” Farien said. “These Vertullians seem very lazy to me. We have a number of them here who don’t want to pull their own weight and meet quotas.”
“New quotas demanded by the Alliance or the same quotas they’ve had?” Davi frowned at Farien’s lack of concern.
“What’s the difference? We’re here to follow the Alliance’s orders, aren’t we?”
Davi had spent the afternoon before reviewing files on the administrative computer bank. The complaints and issues in the reports almost all related to workers who had failed to meet their quotas or filed complaints about mistreatment by soldiers. Davi had looked into several and found most of the quota problems related to increased demands by the Alliance, and, in some cases, the health of workers. Men could only be pushed so far, but that didn’t stop the soldiers from employing any means necessary to coerce the workers into producing higher and higher results, however. And the result was abuse.
“Some of the quota increases I’ve seen seem unrealistic to me. A man can only do so much labor,” Davi said. “Especially when he’s ill.”
They moved past the fence toward a large barn. As they entered, a worker approached with a datapad, handing it to Farien. He read it over, then used the laser stylus to approve it and handed it back as it beeped to acknowledge his signature.
“Have you been out here to see the operation before?” Farien asked as the worker scurried away.
Davi shook his head and watched workers loading grain and cut stalks into various machines which processed them and sealed them into shipping containers on the other end. He stood there a moment admiring the compactness of the machines.
“The machines do a lot of the work. They’re all run by computers. All the workers have to do is supply the raw materials. The machines always seem to spend more time than they should every day waiting on the workers,” Farien continued.
“Is it because they can’t get the raw materials here fast enough from the field?” Davi asked.
“Not from what I’ve seen. Some of the workers just aren’t hustling,” Farien said.
“Switch their assignments then and get workers who are,” Davi said. It seemed an obvious solution.
Farien lifted his hand in a lazy attempt at a salute. “Yes, Mr. Supervisor.”
“Oh, come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Look, if you’re asking me if I’ve seen soldiers get a little aggressive from time to time, yeah, I have. I’ve even been tempted to myself,” Farien said. “But nothing out of hand.”
“You’d tell me if it was, right?”
“Come on, you know me better than that!” Farien’s voice rose in pitch as he tensed, sounding a little hurt.
“Sorry. You don’t seem to think much of the workers,” Davi said gently while inwardly hoping he’d read his friend all wrong.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s right,” Farien answered.
Davi put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, I should have remembered who I was talking to.” He trusted Farien, but Farien saw the world through a different lens, tending to be less focused on issues of right and wrong, or justice than Davi. The average soldier didn’t have to think about such things. He simply had to follow orders. But Davi wasn’t the average soldier. Royals had much different expectations upon them.
“Yeah, don’t let your higher position go to your head, Captain,” Farien snapped.
Stung by the remark, Davi removed his hand from Farien’s shoulder.
Then Farien laughed and broke into a wide grin. He’d been teasing. “Wanna see more?”
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one giving instructions here?” Davi asked, struggling to recover from the weight of the thoughts filling his head. They both chuckled Farien offered a silly salute and led him back out toward the landing pad.
O O O
Farien took Davi on a tour of the facilities in a floater, which hovered above the ground by using the planet’s gravity to manipulate the air. It was a pleasant sensation both from the vehicle’s gentle vibrations and the breeze caressing passengers’ skin as it moved. The farm setup impressed Davi a lot, and they witnessed no incidents of abuse. In fact, everything seemed to be running quite smoothly.
Afterwards, they ate in the soldier’s mess at the back of the barn they’d visited earlier. They took seats across from each other at the end of a long table as workers served them plates of hot gungor meat and Vertullian white bean salad. The presentation was professional, and the service as well-handled as any restaurant. One worker delivered their plates as another provided cutlery and poured them drinks; each moving off in turn to wait on other soldiers.
“Well?” Farien stared across the table at him, anxious for his response.
“It’s quite the operation out here,” Davi said, munching on delicious bread made from fruit and nuts. “Very well organized.”
“Like I told you, nothing out of hand.” Farien replied as Davi glanced down the table to where a worker was pouring drinks for some soldiers. A soldier stuck his foot out as the worker backed up. The worker tripped, struggling to keep his balance as the pitcher flew, spilling its contents on the floor and the uniform of another soldier.
“Hey! You watch it, slave!” The angry soldier said, shoving the horrified worker as he stood and wiped at his soiled uniform with a napkin.
“I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident,” the frightened worker said, bowing his head.
“Looked to me like he did it on purpose,” said the soldier who had tripped him.
The angry soldier began shoving the worker. “It’s the truth, right? You think you can ruin my uniform without being reprimanded?”
“Of course not. I tripped. I’m very sorry,” the worker said.
“You don’t seem sincere to me,” the angry soldier said, grabbing the worker by his collar and pulling him close so their faces almost touched.
The worker trembled, eyes frozen wide.
Davi stood up, trying to control his anger. “Soldier, he already said it was an accident and apologized.”
The soldiers turned and glared, their faces changing as they spotted Davi’s uniform insignia. He hurried over, Farien close behind.
“These slaves show no respect,” said the soldier who had tripped the worker.
“Perhaps you should have a medical officer check your leg to see if it suffered any damage when you tripped him,” Davi answered, shooting him a stern look.
The soldier reacted with surprise at being caught. “Can I help it if he’s not watching where he steps?” the tripper responded, still trying to pretend it was accidental.
“No, you can’t control that. What you can control is how you treat workers. Any soldier who treats workers without dignity and respect can expect to be reprimanded,” Davi said.
“Ah, come on, Captain. It’s a little harmless fun,” said the soldier whose uniform was soiled.
“Go get these soldiers something so they can clean up the mess.” Davi motioned to the worker, who nodded and hurried off, suppressing a smile.
“That’s a worker’s job!” The angry soldier objected.
“Not today it isn’t. You made the mess. You clean it up,” Davi ordered as they both scowled. “If you want, I am sure I can arrange to make cleanup a regular part of your duties.” He glanced at Farien.
Their faces became apologetic and they shook their heads. Davi returned to his seat at the end of the table.
As Farien took his seat across from Davi, he glanced back down at the shocked soldiers. “Don’t you think you were a little harsh?”
“Don’t you think that’s unprofessional?” Davi said right away.
“A few men trying to have a little fun? Like we did at the Academy?” Farien crinkled his mouth as he finished.
Farien, Davi, and Yao had had their antics but never at the expense of the service workers. But Davi didn’t correct him. “At the worker’s expense! It’s cruel and unnecessary. It’s your job to ensure it doesn’t happen again,” Davi said.
Farien bristled at the tone as the worker returned with cleaning materials. He offered them to the soldiers, who stood there in disbelief. Seeing Davi and Farien watching them, their attitudes changed and they set to work on the mess.
The worker started to leave but Davi motioned for him to stay and watch a moment as the soldiers knelt on the floor and used rags to soak up the liquid, then twist it out into a bucket. One of them glanced up at the worker with murderous intent.
Davi stood and stared the soldier down as the timid worker slipped away.
On the way back to the landing pad, Farien remained silent and distant. As they arrived and stepped off the floater, their eyes met.
“Am I supposed to protect that worker from those soldiers now?” Farien asked.
“If any harm comes to him, I want them brought up on charges. Warn them personally.”
Farien frowned at the commanding tone in Davi’s voice. “Soldiers deserve more respect than workers,” Farien said.
“Workers are human beings, too,” Davi said.
“They’re not like us,” Farien responded. “You don’t know. You rarely see them.”
Davi stiffened, struggling to control his rising anger. He stopped walking and turned to Farien in disbelief. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Come on, Davi, you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do believe my ears are working perfectly. Being our subjects doesn’t negate their worth as human beings,” Davi said, angry at Farien for having such a narrow mind.
“Soldiers and workers have different places in society,” Farien said, irritated. “Ask your Uncle!”
Davi ignored the jab and controlled his tone. “All the more reasons why soldiers should be more dignified, above reproach. How can we ask more of our subjects than we ask of ourselves?”
Farien shook his head, disgust on his face. “I guess we just don’t see things the same, Davi.”
“I guess we don’t.” Davi said.
“Maybe if you were out here in the field instead of being stuck in some administrative office, you’d understand better what we have to deal with,” Farien snapped.
Davi shot him a look and snapped back, officer to charge. “You have your orders, and I know you’ll follow them.”
“What’re you gonna do? Take on the whole army over this?”
“If need be, yes,” Davi said.
Farien shook his head. “Maybe Bordox is right and your royal upbringing is going to your head!”
Davi fought the urge to punch his friend. Coming from Farien, the comment stung. He took a deep breath and relaxed his arms before replying. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again!” He turned and marched toward his shuttle, feeling Farien’s gaze boring a hole in his back the whole way.
O O O
As his pilot flew them back to Iraja, Davi sat in silence on the shuttle, his shoulders sunken in defeat, replaying his confrontation with Farien over and over in his mind. Why had he gotten so angry? Farien and Yao were his best friends. They’d grown up together. Sure, he and Farien had different views on how the world should work, but it had never led to angry discussions like this. Besides, Davi was a royal, born of privilege. Why was he so concerned about the lives of the lower class? Justice and fairness aside, he had never known any workers before. It wasn’t like he’d given it a whole lot of thought before his arrival on Vertullis. It seemed obvious his anger had taken Farien by surprise as well. He’d have to apologize as soon as he could arrange another visit.
After the shuttle landed, he spent the rest of the afternoon handling paperwork in his office, wishing he could forget what he’d discovered that day. His computer terminal beeped, notifying him of an e-post. He clicked on his inbox to find an e-post from his mother:
To: AgriCptSouth@Federal.emp
From: HRHMRhii@Federal.emp
Subject: Your concerns
My dear son:
Your e-post brings me to a day I knew would come but had long dreaded. I raised you to be an independent thinker, not dependent on the Alliance or your family for forming opinions. I wanted this for you despite the fact so many in our Alliance have never been afforded it, and I offered it knowing that someday it might lead you to some conclusions about our Alliance which might cause you pain or discomfort. If this is the case, please believe I am full of regret, for you know I would never do anything to cause you harm. But you were born for leadership and raised to lead, and good leaders must be able to make hard decisions. That cannot be done in an intellectual box. This day has come faster than I had hoped, but here we find it upon us, and so, as I have always done, I will respond with honesty to your questions.
Your uncle doesn’t see the world through the same eyes we do. This is the result of both his years of isolation as the leader of the Alliance and the natural development of his personality and knowledge through various experiences. Our father was a very difficult man; though please don’t hear this as making excuses. He tolerated no failure from his children or anyone else, and I am afraid the harshness he passed down has manifested itself in your uncle even more than it existed in himself. Whatever the case, I fear—as time passes and various events come to light from which you have in the past been shielded—for your own good, I might add, out of a mother’s deep love, that you will more and more find yourself coming into conflict with both the ideas and ethics by which your uncle guides himself.
I beg you to be very careful in how you respond to these revelations. He is, after all, the High Lord Councilor, leader of the Borali Alliance. Our armies, Lord’s Council, and population are sworn through oath of loyalty to serve him. Any criticisms you may have must be handled with great discretion. You can feel free to discuss them with me through our encrypted e-posts, but be very careful. Your uncle has many friends and spies. If you express yourself too directly, I fear how he might respond. You are like the son he never had, and I know he loves you dearly. This doesn’t negate his lesser qualities, by any means, but please keep it in mind before passing judgment upon him. I too have long been disappointed by the Alliance’s handling of the Vertullis situation, but I beg you to understand there is not much we can do to interfere. This pattern was established long before us and has the backing of the highest reaches of government. I long for a day soon when we can discuss these things with more freedom in person. In the meantime, know you forever have my adoration and love. I miss you dearly, my son.
Love,
Your adoring mother
Davi sat at his desk, stunned. His mother had always been candid, but the content of her missive left him at a loss. He’d expected her to remind him of his uncle’s love and urge him to not be hasty in rushing to judgment, but he’d also expected her to tell him he did not yet have the full picture to understand the reasons behind the decisions his uncle had made in regard to Vertullis. Instead, she confirmed everything he had discovered and been wrestling with. What now? He winced at the headache developing behind his eyes. He was a simple Captain, who shouldn’t have to worry about such pressures, right? Yet he couldn’t bring himself to let it go.
Miri was right. He would have to be careful. Xalivar would indeed have spies and most people in the Alliance were loyal to him. Davi needed to control his feelings and consider each move. Would he take on the whole Borali Alliance as Farien had said? Not even his status as a member of the Royal Family ensured success. He would be fighting an entire system and way of life for his people, and he knew few would support him.
Slow down, Davi, and remember your place.
Needing to get out of this office and distract himself, he decided to explore areas of the capital he had yet to see. After all, for the time being, this would be home. It might be a good idea to get to know his environment. He deleted his mother’s e-post from the server and shut his terminal, returned the paperwork he’d been reviewing to his inbox and headed out the door.
Outside the noise of the city assaulted his ears. As the twin suns sank toward the horizon, the late afternoon light began to fade, dressing the transportation corridors around him in a mix of colorful light and shadows. Just breathing the outside air, despite the city’s pollution, invigorated him. From the smell of chemicals and fuels to that of flowers, restaurant kitchens, animals and people, his senses worked overtime. Past the end of a long block of administrative offices, he entered the narrower corridors of a residential district. The area surrounding the Borali Alliance’s offices had become prime real estate and contained some of the largest houses in the city, most occupied by off-world government employees.
A few corridors over, a tall security fence sectioned off that neighborhood from the adjacent one. On the far side, the houses changed noticeably: three story apartment buildings mixed with small dwellings, the landscaping sparser, the corridors narrower. He heard even more noise here than in the area around the government center. People bustled around the corridors past shopkeepers on sidewalks drumming up business. It almost seemed like earlier in the day, rather than early evening. In such worker neighborhoods, life began when the people came home.
He wandered, pondering the juxtaposition between houses which seemed run down, set between pristine, newer dwellings on either side. In other places, a thatch-roofed house would have added plants or laser displays on the sides, its small yard kept tidy and fresh, while vines ascended the walls of sleek modern transparent aluminum dwellings with overgrown yards. Finally, he reached a point where the corridor made a sharp turn.
Turning the bend, he found himself in the market with rows of stalls and tents of all shapes and sizes, bustling workers and vendors. A few saw his uniform and tensed, looking at him with wary glances but most went about their business as if he weren’t even there. The smell of various perspirations mixed with manure and fresh meats and fruits assaulting his nose.
Vendors offered everything from standard vegetables like green heads of lettuce, orange carrots, and shiny red tomatoes to more exotic ones like feruca, gixi, and jax—fruits from other parts of the solar system. Feruca was black with a thin skin and soft pulp and was often served with various sauces. Gixi, a round, purple fruit grown in orchards on Vertullis and Italis had a delicious, tender pulp and sweet juice. Jax were blue and oblong with crispy pulp and a taste which went from bitter to sweet during boiling. All had been discovered when colonists first emigrated here centuries ago and now were regular staples of their diets.
Other vendors offered livestock for sale, everything from blue daken and goats to quats and qiwi, a long antlered creature from icy Plutonis. Dark brown with white spots lining either side of their spines, qiwi stood waist high on Davi and had four long legs ending in black hooves. Their antlers grew up to forty centimeters out of their skulls. He also spotted gungors, the six-legged brown animals with yellow manes raised for their tasty meat. Davi moved on past as vendors hollered prices and argued with customers, while the various animals brayed and moaned around them.
As he neared a tent, someone poked his arm—a smiling vendor who looked half-human and half-Lhamor, gesturing with his bottom two arms when he spoke, his forked tongue giving him a strong lisp.
“’ello, Capt’in, my frien’, wha’ever you nee’, I can ge’ for you,” he said with the accent of Italis and patted Davi’s back like they had been lifelong pals.
There’s a reason others of your race use translators. “No thank you, just passing through,” Davi said with forced politeness, moving on through quickly.
The market fascinated him. He saw many species and products he’d never seen before, realizing how big the Alliance really was. He hoped someday he might have time to explore it. When he was younger, he’d dreamed of going on a starship to see the planets in the outer solar system—alien species, plants, animals, alien languages. He’d spent so much time in the office, he hadn’t even bothered to discover what awaited him on Vertullis. He dodged another eager vendor and ducked into an alleyway. Quats moaned and darted out of his path, scattering the trash crowding the walls as they ran.
Might as well see what the neighborhoods are like on the other side.
Entering a corridor so narrow it was restricted to pedestrian traffic, he set about exploring. The corridor and buildings curved, making it impossible to see one end from the other. He walked past doors and windows of one dwelling after another. Separate units shared outside walls like one long building. The area appeared deserted. Everyone must be at the market or already inside.
A woman screamed around the bend ahead.
He quickened his pace, rounding the corner to see an Alliance Captain the size of an air taxi with a worker girl backed into a corner. His gray uniform was dirty and wrinkled, his hair graying around the edges. The girl looked to be upper teens, almost a woman, her stance determined even as she trembled. The Captain struck her across the face with the back of his hand and was preparing to do it again.
“Please,” the girl pleaded, almost a whimper, “let me go.”
“You’ll go, when I say you can go,” the Captain responded, his voice like poison.
Neither had noticed Davi creeping toward them along a wall behind them. As he drew near, his nose crinkled at the overpowering smell of the Captain. He reeked of sweat and alcohol. Not even the sweet pollen drifting off nearby flowerbeds could overcome it.
“What do you want from me?” The girl’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape as he breathing increased with her panic.
“I want you to show me the proper respect.” The Captain swung his arm, but instead of hitting her face, which she turned away, he grabbed the collar of her blouse and ripped it open.
She slid along the wall, trying to get away. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
“Workers like you are always disrespectful,” the Captain said. “Stop moving and come closer.” She shook her head as he grabbed her and pulled her to him, trying to press his lips against hers. She kept wiggling and pushing.
“I’m gonna teach you what it means to obey now, slut,” he said. Buttons popped as he ripped her blouse again and threw her to the ground, climbing on top of her and trying to force her legs apart. She cried out, struggling to free herself.
Davi rushed up behind him, grabbing the Captain by the shoulders and pulling him off. “Enough, Captain,” Davi said.
The Captain swung to his feet and whirled around, pulling free with a power that sent Davi stepping back. The sobbing girl picked herself up and cowered against the wall behind him. “Who do you think you are?” the Captain sneered.
“A fellow officer concerned with a peer’s professional conduct,” Davi said.
“I’m off duty,” the Captain said.
“You’re in uniform,” Davi said.
“I guess this worker slut’s not the only one who needs a lesson in respect,” the Captain said, looking Davi over. He towered over Davi, muscles bulging from his jacket.
Davi stepped back, hoping the man had slow reflexes like everyone else when he was drunk.
The Captain swung at him and Davi ducked, throwing a fist into the man’s gut. His fist throbbed like it had hit an iron wall. He groaned, gritting his teeth against the sudden pain.
The Captain laughed. “Is that the best you can do?”
“Run,” Davi said as his eyes met the worker girl’s. “Get away now!”
The Captain swung at him again as the girl backed away. “Where you going?” The soldier asked, missing Davi as he whirled and reached for her. Her blouse pulled loose into his hands.
Davi glimpsed a necklace around her neck with a blue-green crest at its center. The Captain knocked him to his knees with a blow he hadn’t seen coming. The man remained calm, relaxed, as if it required no effort, while Davi gasped for breath and struggled back to his feet.
Where are my friends when I need them?
The Captain swung again, and Davi dodged to one side. “You need to learn to mind your own business!” Keeping ahold of the girl with one hand, he swung again at Davi’s midsection.
Davi ducked to one side as the girl tried to pull free. His adversary found himself pulled in two directions but managed to grab Davi’s collar and jerk him roughly off his feet.
As the Captain pulled Davi closer and closer, the girl bit the Captain, who yelled and flinched, letting her go. Davi tried to use the moment to pull himself free, but the Captain pulled Davi’s uniform collar tighter, causing Davi to slip and fall away from him and into wooden double doors which cracked loudly as they splintered from the force.
Seeing the girl slipping away, the Captain chased after her, turning his back on Davi.
Davi needed some kind of weapon. He thought for a moment of his blaster, but the Alliance had laws and he could think of none which would justify shooting a soldier, especially not to save a worker. Besides, the Captain had a blaster hanging on his hip.
As he climbed to his feet and stepped away from the door, part of it slipped back inside the house behind him. He looked at the splintered wood and began pulling free a section he could use as a club. Wood creaked and snapped as he pulled.
“Why are you doing this to me?” the girl screamed, as she continued dodging the Captain.
“Because you’re a worker,” the Captain said, grunting with satisfaction as he grabbed her again and looked around for something to tie her with.
Davi ran up behind him with the board. Seeing him out of the corner of his eye, the Captain turned, raising an arm, as Davi swung the board down hard atop his head.
The Captain’s arm deflected the board, sending it hard against the side of his head. Sharp pain filled Davi’s fingers and hands at the force of it, as he struggled to hang on. The Captain froze and emitted a loud gurgling sound, releasing the girl and falling to his knees as blood poured from his ears.
Davi pulled the board away and saw that a large spike had entered the man’s head at the temple. The Captain fell over face down and lay still as the salty smell of warm blood rose into the air from a widening pool around his head. Oh my gods! I killed him!
“Is he dead?” the girl asked, petrified.
Davi knelt beside his opponent, feeling for breath. The strengthened stench almost made him gag but he swallowed hard. “I think so. I don’t know.” The Captain’s chest wasn’t moving.
The girl gasped. Davi saw her pointing at his chest where his ripped uniform revealed his own necklace—an exact duplicate of the one she wore around her neck.
“Where’d you get it?” the girl asked.
“I’ve had it since I was a baby,” Davi responded.
The girl’s eyes widened as she turned and ran back up the corridor.
“Wait! Come back here a moment!” Davi stood, desperate to ask her more.
But her footsteps faded into the night.
Davi glimpsed faces peering at him from nearby windows and heard footsteps behind him.
A worker stood in the splintered doorway as it finally sunk in—he’d killed an Alliance soldier. Davi tensed again, his heartbeat matching the pace of his breaths. Then he turned and raced off into the night.
Davi took dark side corridors all the way back to his quarters, ducking into alleyways every time anyone approached. Gasping for breath until his lungs were about to explode, he ran as fast as his feet would take him, his soaked clothes sticking to his skin. I hope no one got a good look at my face. How am I going to explain this?