Chapter Three: The Politics
On Earth, I've learned, small children usually learn to fear monsters under their beds or "things that go bump in the night." When I first learned about these juvenile fears, I imagined some grotesque creature constantly jumping up and down, causing the floor to vibrate. However, I soon found out that this was not, in fact, was Earth children are afraid of. Odd.
The first thing I learned to fear as a child, however, was real. Daragiz children in the first century S.C. mostly feared the Erms. The Erms were, put bluntly, giant purple space worms. They were about two chilliveks Translation: Daragiz unit of measurement equivalent to a meter./// in size each, could survive in space (as well as any other medium we knew of) without anybreathing apparatus. By the time I was born, we knew about as much about them as we knew about the Kadee - that is to say, very little.
As I've said, I was born in 62 S.C., to Kerassad and Andralia of the Channel of Aklusa. In human terms, I suppose my "full" name would be Ketayron Aklusa, but we Daragiz have a very dissimilar naming practice.
I was born into a world of fear. Various powerful Channels were vying for leadership of the Daragiz people, and while a political battle raged on Gadzair station, where we had established our governmental headquarters, chaos reigned on Gadzair, the lush planet below we had chosen to colonize after two years of searching. In the beginning, Gadzair station had been merely the assembled parts of about eighty freighters. The other hundred and twenty were cannibalized to create planetary structures, half of which had been burned, torn down, or occupied by the Monarchials. About a third of the rest were possessed by the Council Faction, and the remainder were either neutral in the conflict or were led by the Bigarchy Coalition. These three factions had been the main contenders for the future government of the Daragiz.
One of the most confusing things about Daragiz politics is that people with widely differing political beliefs can, and do, join to form a stronger political "party." This is especially true with the Bigarchy Coalition, which was made up of dozens of groups of politicians with different opinions. The Coalition was pushing for a government made up of a large council of representatives from each divison of Gadzair, ruled by two Semipresidents, called so because both Semipresidents had equal power, and could balance each other. That was the theory of the Coalition, anyway.
The Council Faction, or CF, was in favor of a large planetary council (hence the name of the CF), made up of numerous representatives from each division. In this government plan, however, no one (or two) individual would have ultimate power. Every decision would be approved by a vote, usually done electronically.
The Monarchials, which comprised half of the Daragiz population and were thus predicted to win the Politic War, were trying to enforce a government made up of a small council and one Prime Leader, who would have ultimate power. This system had been used centuries before on Daragiz, before all the countries and city-states were unified.
My father and mother favored the Monarchials.
Until the year 70 S.C., when I turned forty seasons old Gadzair has five seasons per year, and passage of time is measured alternatively in seasons or years.///, which is a momentous age for a young Daragiz, I believed in the Monarchial cause. However, at my celebration at becoming forty, I met a forty-five-season-old, nine years of age, named Kythundre. His parents were part of the CF, and there had been more than a few politicians who blatantly opposed Kythundre's family's presence. However, Kythundre's grandfather had been childhood friends with mine, and my father wanted to explore old ties.
Kythundre and I had a pleasant talk about the latest child toys on the market, and I ogled with envy his KadeeSmegger 2000, a massive action figure spacecraft that came with a series of Kadee ship replicas which exploded and then reconstructed themselves at the touch of a button. Then, however, the discussion turned to politics, and my awareness of the politic world increased exponentially.
"So, you're from the Council, huh?" I asked him.
"Yessss," Kythundre replied, frowning. He seemed to be struggling with inner demons. "You favor the Monarchials?"
"Yeah, of course," I answered. "One power person is the only way to smoothly run a government. Besides, the other factions leaders are too ruthless to consider their plans."
Kythundre's scowl deepened. He seemed much more intelligent than most nine-year-olds. On the other hand, I had no frame of reference, as I was merely eight. "Propaganda," he spat.
"Purple what?"
He smiled without mirth. "Propaganda. False information, usually spread by politicians. did you know that thousands of Monarchial supporters are currently destroying everything in the Iylyan Sector, merely because the Coalition makes up the majority of the people there?"
My jaw dropped. This had to be wrong - maybe this was the propaganda he was talking about - spread by the Coalition or the CF. Yes, that had to be it - the Monarchials were innocent. Every Monarchial politician my parents had introduced me to had been extremely friendly.
However, even then, my inner voice was beginning to whisper, "Or were they too friendly?"
Then I remembered something my father had said about the Iylyan Sector Riots. "You're wrong," I told Kythundre. "The Monarchials control Iylyan Sector - barely. They were nearly killed when the Coalition swept in and massacred them. At least, they tried to. Monarchials are formidable warriors."
Kythundre glared at me. "Propaganda," he spat again. He walked away, muttering under his breath, "you need to see it with your own eyes...."
I didn't see him again for over a year. During that time, the fighting intensified. The chaos of the Monarchials being attacked time and again by the vicious Coalition, yet still managing to secure territory while the CF looked on, participating in minor skimishes only, was penetrated several times a month by attacks, mostly on our southern continent of Kchalaran, of Erms.
Mostly, the aliens raided in bands of one or two. Occasionally, usually once every few months, a full party of about a dozen of the nightmare creatures caused havoc in major cities. The purple creatures flew across the highways, swishing their bodies at anything electrical and decimating it, sucking up the electrical energy. Blackouts lasted for days in the aftermath of one particularly nasty attack at Alkasia City.
In 72, things were coming to a head in the Politic War. The Coalition was becoming even more ruthless, and even the Council began stabbing at the helpless Monarchial territories. The Monarchials focused their forces on staying the Coalition horde, and meanwhile, the CF took over Ailonarak Sector, the capital of was where my family lived.
Kythundre's father, I learned, was in charge of the attack, and took over the capital quickly with several squads of "diplomatic warriors" - a "nice" term for the soldiers the politicians employed to forcefully secure votes. The Monarchial defense league had abandoned us when it left to secure the Coalition perimeter, and so I soon found myself handcuffed in the Ailonarak capitol building with Kythundre and his father staring at me.
"So," his father said, "we meet again, son of Kerassad. I trust your stay with the Monarchials has been enjoyable."
I glared at him, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing me speak.
"I hope you're grateful."
The words caught me so unprepared that I abandoned my look of defiance and exclaimed, "What?!"
"Yes - grateful," he said again.
Kythundre jumped in. "The Monarchial death squads-"
"DEFENSE LEAGUE!" I shouted at him.
Kythundre scowled. "The 'defense league' will return here very shortly, as they will have no trouble beating back the Coalition. There are just too many of the Monarchials for us secondary parties to stand a chance. We will have to retreat, of course."
I goggled at him. "Then why in the name of Ak did you come here?!"
"To recruit," he replied. "Most of you young people have never seen a battle. That's why the Monarchials have so many followers - they don't show people any of what's really happening until they are too deep to retreat. You, Ketayron, and your age group, will see it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Monarchial death squads are approaching," his father said. "They'll arrive in twenty hours."
The attack came while I was in bed. It was the smell that first awoke me - sweat. The owners of rivers of stinking perspiration had just entered my town, and Daragiz have very sensitive nasal passages. The Defense League had returned, and they had evidently marched all night to protect their citizens. I smiled. That would show Kythundre who was on the right side....
That was when I heard the screams.
And the firing of dozens of flechette rifles and plasma discharge blasters.
I left the capitol building, dashed onto the street, and saw it.
A legion of soldiers bearing the red uniforms of Monarchials was marching through the town, firing their weapons at every Council supporter they could see. This wasn't a surprise to me - these sorts of battles would occur all the time, my father had told me. And yet there was something wrong....
The soldiers were not using the sanctioned stun guns - they clutched illegal weapons used only by terrorists and mass murderers. In front of me, I saw Kythundre's father clutching his shoulder as he was blasted with a volley of flechettes. Yellow blood seeped through his fingers as he fired a stun gun with the other hand. One of the Monarchials staggered and fell, but the rest of them moved on, a great mass of death.
Kythundre was suddenly by my side. "Ketayron. This is a real battle. Look there, in the middle of the second column of troops." He pointed, and I saw my father, wearing a Monarchial uniform. As I watched, he incinerated a Council diplomat.
"You see? Kythundre said. "We've arranged an escape route. Three cargo transporters are hidden in the cloud cover, and will descend in thirty seconds. I've given this message to everyone in this town who hasn't seen a real battle before this - you can come with us. You have but twenty seconds to decide. Come, and fight on the right side, or stay, and become a killer. Choose."
As I watched the slaughter, three small ships descended from the clouds. Dozens of CF members sprinted into the cargo holds, as did countless Monarchials - childhood friends of mine. Although I was only nine, I could see that I was no longer a child.
I ran towards the transporters. And as I ran, I screamed.
Coming soon - Chapter 4: The Betrayal