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2
Neb-en-khata
I haveto admit that the view from up here on the space station is quite spectacular, although I have been waiting for the general for about an hour now. The view of the barren desert that we call Ebkherun, our claim on the planet of Yoria, will not keep me occupied forever. It definitely beats twiddling my thumbs in an intergalactic traveler for a fortnight, something that I incidentally just did. I know that this is supposed to be a great honor, an extraordinary way to serve Dhaarria, but it’s not exactly the post I expected the moment I graduated the academy. I finished top of my class, and that usually translates to a cushy job at the ministry of defense, or maybe even a non-military post at the bureau of travel. I majored in foreign cultures, after all. But that was probably my downfall. I minored in Ebkherun studies. I’m fluent in their language and have a good knowledge of their culture and customs. It seemed like an easy way to get a good grade; there was barely any competition. Never thought that it would translate into a posting out here.
No one in their right mind wants to come way out here, no matter how interesting this world might seem on screen. It’s no secret that our claim is much weaker than that of Qhinia and Folkmaer. We were late to the party; those bastards had divided up the best parts of the planet before leaving us the scraps. That’s what happens when you’re ten parsecs farther away. I’m not even really sure why we decided to stake a claim. It must have cost Dhaarria a fortune, and from what I’ve heard (and now seen), the land down here is almost worthless, just mile after mile of empty desert. We are able to extract some raw materials from the earth, but nothing of amazing value. Apparently the Folkmaer, up in Landesgil, the northern territory of Yoria, can actually mine tons of precious metals in their claim. What’s the point of ours? Pride, I guess. The eternal competition between the three life-filled planets of the galaxy.
For my entire life, and for many of those who came before me, our three planets have been stuck in a passive war of sorts. We don’t actually fight, but we have no contact with one another. The Qhins or the Folkmaer are never discussed, and I barely know anything about them, or their worlds. I know that they are treacherous people and will stop at no lengths to weaken Dhaarria, but that’s about it. Hell, I don’t even know what they look like.
The Qhins were the ones to discover Yoria about a century ago—we’re not exactly sure of the exact time since they tried to keep it a secret. We found out though, but unfortunately, so did Folkmaer. Folkmaer set up their own colony in the north 5 years after the Qhins had already secured their own section, Tripassus. We established Ebkherun ten years after that, but many believe that there is possibility for expansion on Yoria. After eighty-five years, here we still are, though.
To me, it doesn’t seem worth the trouble. In my classes, I learned that the humans are a savage, vile people. If they don’t want to kill you, they want to have intercourse with you. It’s difficult for me even to fathom such a place where procreation is still necessary for reproduction. It has been centuries since Dhaarria gave up that practice. Now, we have full control over the reproductive system, and nothing is left to the genetic lottery. All Dhaarrir are born as genetically perfect specimens of the species, disease- and illness-free. I understand that the humans do not have this sort of technology available to them, but so much of their culture revolves around sex, it’s loathsome. Luckily, I will not have to actually be in contact with any of them. A theoretical knowledge is perfectly adequate for an entry-level surveillance position.
* * *
“Welcome,welcome, young Neb-en-khata. We’ve been expecting you for a long time,” General Rah-ned-kru says to me, ushering me into his office.
“Thank you, sir,” I say and place my palm out rigidly in the traditional manner.
“No need for ‘sirs’ here. You’re on Ebkherun now. Things around here are much less formal than back home.”
“If you say so, general.”
“Rah will do just fine. May I call you Neb?”
“Absolutely, si—Rah.”
“Good, good, now take a seat and we can get down to business. I’m sure you’re very excited to find out more about your first posting.”
I take a seat across the desk from the general. His relaxed attitude and friendly demeanor surprise me. I have not met many generals in my time, but the ones that I have met have been sticklers for tradition.
“Very excited,” I say, lying a little bit. I hope that this will be a posting of no more than a year, after which I can apply for a transfer back to Qikhe, the capital city of Dhaarria.
“Well, you come highly recommended, and your transcripts speak for themselves.”
“Thank you, Rah.”
“My pleasure. Now, it’s my understanding that you have undertaken studies on the Ebkherun language and human culture, am I mistaken?”
“You are not mistaken, Rah. I would not say it is my main forte, but I certainly do have a working understanding of the humans, and my language skills are certainly adequate.”
“That’s good because, for this particular mission, we were not looking for an expert; a working understanding is exactly the phrase I would use to describe our needs. We don’t want someone who has many preconceived notions about the humans, but we do need someone who can get inside their heads a little. Am I making myself clear?”
“Not really, Rah,” I say with a little chuckle.
Rah-ned-kru chuckles back and says, “Speaking is not alwaysmyforte. I am more of a man of action.” He walks over to a small podium in the corner of the room. He hovers his hand over it and a series of graphics flicker out of it, which he begins to sort through with his thumb.
“As you can see, we have not yet been able to get the newer models all the way out here, but this will have to do.”
I give him a polite smile, realizing that this particular enhancer was in use decades before I was even born. I had not recognized it as an enhancer in the first place.
He pulls up some images that I quickly recognize as deities of the natives. He siphons through them and enhances one in particular. He turns to me and says, “Are you aware who this is?” pointing toward the image of normal-looking person in native dress and jewels.
“Yes, that is Anubis, the lord of the underworld. The natives believe that he controls their fates after death. This is one of the first deities that us Dhaarrir created to further control the humans.”
“Very good. You know your stuff. Anubis is one of the most important gods to the humans. The concept of death is one of the most powerful forces of control. In recent years there has been an exponential growth in popularity among a sect of the humans in the northwest of Ebkherun.” The general pulls up a map next to Anubis and highlights a relatively small area to the north of the Iteru River.
“This area, which the humans call Avaris, is one of the most important, if not the most important, regions of Ebkherun. It is the closest city to the border with Tripassus, the Qhinian claim as I’m sure you know. We have enjoyed an immense amount of control in this region for centuries, but we are slowly losing our grip on the human population because ofhim,” he says, pointing back at the portrait of Anubis.”
