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“But—Anubis is not real.”
“Precisely!” The general answers excitedly. “If Anubis was real then this so-called Cult of the Dead would not be going around recruiting humans from their valuable work in the surrounding farms and mines.”
“I’m not sure I completely follow you, Rah.”
“Of course. Let me make myself clear. Over the past few years, a cult has arisen in the region of Avaris. This ‘Cult of the Dead’ worships Anubis as their god, but, alas, Anubis is but a fiction. An opportunistic leader, whose real name I believe is—” The General swipes through the enhancer and says, “Msamaki. He is of noble blood, a distant relation to the pharaoh himself, but unfortunately, he is even more insane and depraved than the majority of the natives.”
“How so?”
“He has stitched a mask of Anubis to his face and claims he is the god himself.”
“Oh my.”
“Indeed. Unfortunately, he has gained quite the following. We had hoped that this issue would go away on its own like most do without such severe intervention, but it looks like, for the first time in a decade, we will actually be forced into action. Our exports can’t take a hit at the moment with the situation with Qhinia as it is—as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Politics were never my strong suit, but every Dhaarrir knows that Qhinia is our greatest competitor both on Yoria and in the galaxy. Dhaarria is quite dependent on Qhinian phoocelone and fuel. Ever since we staked our claim on Yoria, they have refused to trade with us. Just another demonstration of their profound selfishness and greed.
“Yes, of course, Rah.”
“Good man. Now, this is where you come in. We needed someone with military expertise as well as a working knowledge of the humans. We have also been informed that you are of impeccable moral character. Never set a foot wrong in your time at the academy, I’m told.” The general pauses, a little dramatically, and then looks back at me. “I am aware this is an unusual first posting. Lord, it’s an unusual posting at all, so I will cut to the chase. We want you to go down to Ebkherun, on planet, and take the place of Anubis. You will become the real Anubis.”
I laugh boisterously at the general’s joke; I don’t even have to fake it because it is actually quite hysterical. I imagine myself donning that ludicrous head garment and golden jewelry and setting off among the natives. I laugh for a solid five seconds before I finally notice that the general is not laughing—in fact, his expression is deadly serious.
“It’s not a joke, son,” he says, snout wrinkled into a frown.
My heart starts to pound nervously. Surely this is some kind of hazing, some hilarious prank on the new recruit. The more time that goes by, the less I believe that theory. “Surely, Rah, you can’t expect me—”
“I understand that this comes as a shock. You were expecting some sort of cushy desk job up here on the station, swiping through an enhancer and reporting nonsense to your commanding officer. I understand that, Neb, I do, but what I am offering you is an experience unlike any other. You will get to go down and immerse yourself in a culture vastly different to ours. You will get to know this species better than anyone has since we first arrived on this planet.”
“But, Rah, the natives, they—”
“Yes, the natives are not civilized. They are savages without consciousness or honor. They are a species that revels in the squalor of physical depravity. But I am not asking you to become one of these abhorrent creatures, Neb. I am asking you to rule them. To rule them with an iron fist. Ebkherun needs a man of your abilities and moral stature. We need someone to set this society back on track. You may see shocking things, but none will be as shocking to them as the real Anubis arriving and setting them straight. To them, you will be the bringer of death, the lord of the underworld. Anyone who does not submit to your will, the will of Dhaarria, will be dealt with swiftly and brutally. Do you understand why we have chosen you, Neb?”
I think for a moment, still in complete shock. I did think that I was coming to a piece-of-shit post to crunch data and fill out reports. This is so far beyond anything that I could have ever expected. The thought of going down there among the humans makes me want to vomit. I know of their obsession with sex and their brutality to one another. Not even mentioning their delusional beliefs and pathetic, pathological yearning for violence. I can’t possibly go down there, even as a god.
“Rah, I am honored by this position. I truly am, but—”
“Before you refuse me, let me tell you what I can offer you. You give me one month,one month. You go down there, and you set the humans straight, and I will write you the most glowing recommendation for any position you desire back in Qikhe.”
My eyes light up. The general can see that he has me. A recommendation from someone like General Rah-ned-kru would secure me any position I could possibly imagine. In the grand scheme of things, one Yorian month is nothing. That is barely a Dhaarrir sojourn. Maybe I will actually learn something down there, at least, learn to appreciate my own society more.
I can’t quite believe what I’m about to do, but with the glimmer of future glory in my eyes, I say, “I will do it, Rah.”
“Excellent! I knew we could count on such a fine young lad. And don’t worry, we will be sending you in there with the best preparation possible. You will go through proper training soon, but let me first outline what it is we need you to do. It’s very simple. You will be sent down there using our moleculizer. Once there, you will locate this savage Msamaki and remove him from his seat of power. You will restore order in the city and put everyone back to work in the farms and mines. In addition, we will need you to reorganize the military. We are worried that we might have to deal with some Qhinian aggression in the near future. Once that is done, you will find a nice little puppet leader and give him clear instructions of what is expected of him. This is how it works in all of Ebkherun. The human they call the pharaoh is nothing more than a puppet. We control him and people like him with fear. We can enter their dreams, send messages straight into their heads, and sometimes, like now, we even make them a personal visit to make sure they are acting according to our wishes.” The general stands up and I do the same. He puts out his palm and I immediately lightly brush it with my index and middle finger.
“Do you think you can handle that, Neb?”
“It’s an honor to serve you in this way, general,” I say, noticing that I do really like the man.
“We are honored to have you here, Neb-en-khata; or should I say:Anubis.”
