I had no clue what I intended to do.
I had just decided to let events guide me, when the voice of my
father issued unbidden from somewhere in the labyrinthine depths of my brain.
“I beg you, remember everything I have taught you,” he said softly, his voice calm, yet laced with warning.
Part of my heart hardened even further, even as part of it began to melt.
Caught between these two diametrically opposed impulses, I stumbled as I entered the main council chamber.
Xexra, Xal and Pok were huddled together speaking rapidly. I made a racket as I bashed about. They looked over, irritated initially, then of course, melted into the reverence to which I was rapidly becoming pleasantly accustomed.
It was good to be a god…or something close, very close.
“What is our plan?” I inquired in the most god-like manner I could manage. My father kept pressing misery at me, somewhere deep down in my mind, down so deep, for a time, I could choose to pretend I felt nothing at all.
“We were waiting for you to make our final choices,” Xal said, staring down at me in awe tinged with lust.
Oh, the heady, welcome heat of lust, alien or human – it didn’t matter. I wasn’t sure which was more intoxicating, being treated like a god or being lusted after by virtually every male with whom I came in contact.
“Indeed,” Pok and Xexra agreed.
Somewhere behind my father’s voice, I felt Pon murmur, “All my People.”
Mincemeat Zygon chimed in, “I’ve mentioned that to her on at least one occasion.”
The ice half of my heart retorted, “Those two pains in the ass are dead. Their voices are nothing but phantoms born of neurons aimlessly chattering!”
“Well,” Xal interrupted my unintended reverie, “what shall we do?”
“I need to know the situation. Where are our enemies?” I demanded.
Phantom Pon, Zygon, and Dad all three kicked me.
I ignored them.
“It has been three months since I destroyed the Harmonizers. Their world has been totally disrupted. Do they even know how to feed themselves?” I asked haughtily, evilly.
“Of course,” Xal laughed. “The Harmonizers told them what to do – plant, harvest, process food, clean up after themselves.”
“Yes, it was a felicitous relationship. The Harmonizes did all the thinking, the idiots divided themselves between doing as they were told and fucking each other up the ass,” Pok snorted.
“Homosexuals by necessity, not by temperament or choice,” Xal noted sardonically.
I know this is going to sound naïve, but I had never honestly considered what the sex life of the average Puric was like. The look of stupefaction on my face made Xexra laugh.
“How do you suppose they handled their inevitable boners?” she asked, then erupted with mirth.
“Blow-up dolls?” I replied lamely, shrugging my shoulders.
All three of them doubled over at that.
“Try hunting and raping our women to death as ritual sport,” a voice behind me said.
That brought everyone in the room to a state of dead seriousness. We all turned to look at the new arrival. He was old, stooped over, draped in loose black silky clothes.
“Rell,” Xal said reverently, bowing.
Everyone else in the room bowed. So, almost in reflex, did I.
“Who the fuck is Rell?” dead Zygon quipped from the depths of my memory. I made a mental note to off the neurons summoning their approximation of his nasty observations to unwelcome life. “We heard that,” they quipped before falling silent.
Rell took note of my bow.
“You are reverent,” he noted. I felt grateful he could not hear the Zygon neurons.
“I have heard many good things of you, off-worlder. We are grateful for your intervention. But, our problem is not yet solved.”
Something in this old Iglenda made me pause, made me think of my own father.
“I know,” I answered quietly. “Our problem goes on. What shall we do, old Father?” I asked. The moment was guiding me expertly.
“So, you intend to go on with this? Continue to involve yourself with our lives, our necessities?” he asked, his eyes probing. “I can’t fathom why?”
Xexra, Xal, and Pok stirred. I felt them bristle.
“She has risked her life more than once for us, Rell,” Xexra almost growled.
“Yes,” Rell drawled, “and I do not mean to minimize what she has done. I merely note the job is not yet done. Maybe now that we don’t have Pon or his wily off-world friend, things won’t be as simple to accomplish. This is all I note,” he softly intoned, piercing me with his ancient eyes.
“Do you have an idea, Father,” I said reflexively, instinctively, pressing him. That caught him off guard. “Do you know what must be done?”
Pok picked up on my drift. “Yes, Rell, your wisdom is renowned among us. What shall we do? Indeed, that is what we have been debating.”
“Our enemies are not routed,” he began. “They can no longer make more of their abominable selves. They do not understand the technology which sustained them. All they had become were janitors and mechanics with no interest in anything but menial tasks and their sadistic pleasures – torturing us and each other.”
Some part of me beneath the voice of my father, the prodding of Zygon and Pon, wept for the misery of the poor creatures Rell described. “No wonder Pon wanted to save them too,” she said.
It was the voice of my mother. Before I had a moment to crack, to surrender to the logic of her compassion, Rell continued,
“The enemy gathers all along the south ridges bordering the Heath, what are left of them anyway. Your venting of radioactive waste into their city’s system destroyed most of the heathen bastards,” he said with icy calm.
“He is speaking of living, sentient beings,” my father sighed. “Does this mean nothing to you?”
“Indeed,” Pon and Zygon joined in, “Does this mean nothing?”
Half of my heart froze deeper. Half wanted to cry out loud.
“How many are left?” the icy side demanded.
“Barely 2,000,” Rell laughed in return.
“How many of your friends are left?” my father taunted.
I could feel rebellion beginning to swell in my nerves.
“Do something before they sweep you away,” my black, demon heart demanded!
“Can we destroy them?” I demanded out loud.
“We can,” Rell laughed, his eyes victorious.
“But, how?” I asked, my resolve hardening.
“Inspire us! Lead us!” Rell said softly.
I turned to face the roomful of expectant Iglendas trembling on the edge of action.
“Take up arms!” I shouted. “We will bring our suffering to an end for all time!”
Xal, Pok, and Xexra whooped, “Bring our suffering an end!” The rest of the observers in the room took up the chant. They left, rejoicing, chanting, summoning the will of the Organics to one final overwhelming battle.
“All my People,” the voice of Pon sighed through every nerve I had.
