Authors: Pamela Foland
Uohvu glared at Nelimu and the blade stayed where it was “Hush! Please tell us more about them,” he was becoming hostile but it was difficult to tell whether it was towards Yllera or Nelimu.
“They’re only in charge of food and custodial services. I think.” Yllera said after scratching at the back of her mind.
“Food! So a Tanerian is in charge of dispensing food. What are custodial services? It is some kind of euphemism for secret police perhaps?” Nelimu spat.
Yllera felt disgust and frustration setting in, “Food services is in charge of growing, harvesting, cooking and replicating food. Another department handles distribution. Custodial services is a euphemism,” Yllera paused for a brief wry grin, “for the department responsible for cleaning and waste management. They’re maids and garbage collectors.”
Uohvu took a moment in comprehension and laughed, “Finally! Tanerians finding the kind of work they deserve! I actually think I might like your factors! Forgive us, bad blood runs deep with our tribe. “
“It isn’t easy to forget the ongoing persecution our people have suffered,” Nelimu growled, “Before the genocide we suffered greatly! Back then many of us were forced to wear limiters because our abilities exceeded those of the Tanerians. Then after our race was nearly wiped out they drove most of the survivors into exile, and violently quarantined or enslaved the rest. As if that plague were our fault! Many of the elders still profess the Tanerians were responsible! Tell the girl about it! About how we have been used and abused. Tell her how our people were forced to colonize this world! It began as a penal colony, for obstructionist Agurians. Then as we discovered the mineral wealth we were driven further from the habitable zones. “
“Put aside the past,” Uohvu urged, he clearly had heard her diatribe before, “It was bad, but things have improved.”
Nelimu retrieved her dagger and put it away, fishing out a small wrapped bar of food while she was at it. Nelimu then sat heavily on the sand, “It isn’t the past I am worried about. We have been under continuous threat from slavers and the Tanerian defense force, for generations. Even now that this world is independent from the empire, The world may be free from imperial constraints but we are exempt from that freedom! They tear up the sands to strip the minerals and leave behind an even less hospitable wasteland. Worse yet, they steal our people to use as
labor to do it. “
Uohvu waved his hand in the air in front of his face as though to remove a bad smell, “Sand and dust, sand and dust. We are out here to gather livine,
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lifeweed’ as they call it in humanspeak. This patch is very potent. It can save you from sandburn even when dried and rehydrated. We almost trust you enough to bring you back to our camp. First we must share, I am Teverum.”
“I am Illay.” The woman quickly added.
“I thought your names were Uohvu and Nelimu?” Yllera cringed inwardly, she was here to collect the cultural awareness that would make moments like this easier for future factors.
Illay / Nelimu laughed, “It isn’t wise to hand around a name too freely. Especially to stranger-women. Plus we were over inflating our worth. Nelimu is the name for without-defeat, Uohvu is strong clean darkness.”
Yllera nodded and sat next to Illay who was eating every crumb of her dried food. Yllera thought about it and retrieved a small pouch of water from one of her endless pockets and offered it to Illay, “Here that looks dry.”
Illay accepted it and felt the pouch for a few moments before breaking the seal and sipping on it.
Her smile widened, “It’s pure, totally pure! What kind of filter do you use? And it’s cold!” Illay handed the pouch to Teverum / Uohvu. He sampled it then took a deep quenching drink.
“It is good water. But I would prefer your name,” Teverum said drawing the conversation back to task.
Yllera smiled and opened her mask to reveal her smile, “My name is Yllera Vllett.”
“That means something like beautiful-true-light. And I see it hides in your smile,” Illay said offering Yllera a chunk of her dried food.
Yllera cautiously accepted, “Do I want to ask what this is?”
“It is a dried paste of livine, hardgrain, mauveberry, and lizard flesh,” Teverum answered, “It is quite good.” He retrieved a small chunk from his bag and began eating with enjoyment.
Yllera grimaced and worked up to tasting it. It was going well so far, but did she really have to eat lizard jerky? Yllera popped it into her mouth and began to chew. It was crumbly, almost sandy in texture and it tasted sweet, like sweet sand, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. It wasn’t bad.
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Chapter 7
Resettling, Unsettling, Whatever!
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With a yawn, a stretch and the thought of the uproar she could expect at the morning meeting, Angela slapped her feet on the cold floor, no slippers. Angela didn’t dread the mirror. The chief was at bay, because Annette had beaten Tony. Now Niri’s smiling face should- would replace Sinclair’s smug sneer. Angela didn’t know what Dennis or Ralph would make of her “gift,” but at least Angela could expect a few more factors in the future.
Damn, Angela was thinking of the future again. That meant dark plans and patterns would pop up in the back of her mind. She knew she had a hint of paranoia, but just because you think people are out to do harm didn’t mean that they weren’t.
Why couldn’t somebody around here mutiny and take the cares off of her shoulders.
She had to go to the morning meeting, that was enough buy anyone a ticket to a bad train of thought. It was all too easy to see her life as nothing more than empty meetings she had to attend just so the Chief would be there. The Chief was really getting on her nerves, making her go to meetings, making her tired, making her old.
Stop, she wasn’t going to go down that road again today. Today was party day, because Niri got a promotion. Crap, things will have to be rearranged, and Niri, long-winded-much, Everett will probably want to keep
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The Chief’ apprised of all of it. At that thought Angela almost missed Sinclair, but how could she miss him if he hasn’t really been gone yet? Oy! This was going to be a day.
Angela finished in the bathroom and dressed in an off white jumpsuit.
She shuffled past her sleeping husband out into the living room. No doughnuts today! She had been making too much of a habit of them and her metabolism wasn’t as swift to adjust as it used to be. She’d gained a couple of pounds already. Back to hardtack and stale water for her. Angela walked into the kitchen and ignored the perpetual box of doughnuts, always full, always fresh thanks to the kitchen computer. She searched the cupboards opening and closing doors softly so as not to wake Daniel.
“Excuse me miss, is there something I may get you?” The kitchen’s voice asked. The voice was full of subservient female angst.
Angela paused in her search, she’d only really been looking to see what was in them. She’d lived in the apartment for decades and still had no idea what was where in her own kitchen. “I’d like a doughnut and coffee,” Angela mumbled leering at the box. She could feel Pavlovian saliva forming at the back of her mouth.
“I have a full box on my counter,” The voice said while a spotlight highlighted it, “If the selection is insufficient I can get any type of pastry you would prefer.”
The whining submissive tone of the computer’s voice was beginning to grate on Angela’s nerves. Daniel, usually so reasonable and equitable preferred it this way. It was a holdout from his formative years on a planet where women were property.
Angela felt suddenly frustrated with it. “Get some balls would you?”
“Excuse me Miss, do you mean doughnut holes, or meatballs?” The kitchen asked.
“Neither and never-mind,” Angela took the chocolate glazed doughnut that was pleading to be eaten.
She knew she shouldn’t but she was “The Chief” and everybody knew “the Chief” could do anything she wanted.
Angela almost scolded herself for lying to herself so early in the day, but she had to start sometime.
Yes, and today would go through without a hitch, and Niri would be too busy to be long winded, and pigs had wings with mauve feathers with which they frolic happily through the sky.
She was getting pretty good at lying to herself. Perhaps she should start a self help group, “Better life Through lying to yourself.” No, it negated too many of the traditional twelve steps, and the fantasy world two-step was a dance Angela sucked at.
“Never-mind and neither!” Those were the words of the day.
She would have a good day if the ignorant bliss killed her. Time to be on the carpet for the meeting, no stop in communications, not since the day Ruth had snuck up on her. It didn’t look good to be seen in slack-jawed contemplation of one’s navel. She had to keep morale up. She was “The Chief”. God forbid someone see Angela the woman, tired, overworked, and mildly melancholic.
Ah, but then there was that Girl! Brightest star in most any constellation, Annette held so much promise. Though Angela didn’t delude herself into thinking that the girl would be willing or capable of taking on the burden of “The Chief.”
Neither and never-mind today, Angela reminded herself.
The clock bonged and Angela teleported herself to the conference room.
All of the chairs at the table were filled. Niri sat in her usual place, the chair behind Sinclair’s seat. The room almost buzzed with anticipatory energy. It had been decades since the last major change had been made. Though not quite official everyone knew what had happened at the test yesterday and everyone waited to find out whether or not Angela would officially hold Sinclair to the wager.
Angela sat in her seat.
Everyone but Niri looked at Angela. Angela looked at Niri. Niri looked at and fidgeted with her pop-pad, occasionally glancing the back of Sinclair’s head. Angela Glared at Sinclair, but his eyes found ways to avoid her. Angela looked at everyone else. Gene was present, in fact he seemed more
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present’ than usual given his quick glance down at his solitary pop-pad when Angela tried to make eye contact. Okay, that meant he wasn’t going to ask, everything was always up to the chief.
“Department Chairs sit at the table Ms. Everett, I’m sure Sinclair can make room,” Angela said. The room let out a collective sigh.
Chavez finally caught Angela’s eyes and her point. He rose and shuffled backwards awkwardly. He no longer knew where to be.
It made him look like a sick puppy dog. Angela resisted the urge to tell him to sit, and roll over. “Dennis I was wondering if you could use someone new in R&D.” It wasn’t really a question.
Dennis choked back a grimace and glanced over his shoulder at, surprise of all surprises, Ralph. Angela smiled at the sight of her old, older than she thought he would be, friend. Ralph looked Sinclair over and made the slightest of shrugs. Angela had to blink, it was the closest Ralph had gotten to personnel politics, ever.
Dennis glanced at Sinclair, then back to Angela, “Ralph has been looking for an assistant, someone to help out with detail work.”
“Sinclair’s the man for it, he’s into details, but occasionally he misses the forest for the tree,” Gene mumbled. Like a tennis match all eyes bounced across the room to fasten on Gene.
Maybe it was more like a pop fly into left field.
Nobody knew what to expect from Gene.
Angela wondered how someone so disorganized in thought and action could be so utterly dependable. Everyone in the room had at one time or another depended on Gene for their lives, an increasingly large number of them were delivered by him. The babies were now pushing the strollers. Time strolls onward, but today was the day of neither and never-mind, Angela reminded herself again.
Sinclair stood now looking like a toddler in desperate need of changing. Why wouldn’t he just go sit with Ralph and Dennis? Time for Angela to play Chief again, “Please do find a seat Mr. Chavez.”
Angela fought to keep her convulsive laughter silent and internal as Chavez shuffled like a penguin on Valium towards a seat next to Ralph. Things were looking up, for Angela, for Niri, and for Annette. Angela didn’t hold back her smile at the sense that things were taking a marvelously unique turn.