(Finally wrote something I'm vaguely satisfied with.)
The sky burned an angry red over the outlands of Jenastria, a permanent reminder of the war fought by the native Velurians against Empress Straza almost two hundred years ago. It hung like a blister over the peaceful landscape, where thousands of recent inhabitants poured into the major cities, whether by physical transport or long-distance mind transfer. Even so, enough time had passed that most people had long become used to it.
I had chosen the scenic route, travelling by V-Carriage around the perimeter to have a full overview of Straza’s influence. The Razials used to call them slave carriages at first, back when Straza’s empire was just beginning to take root, but many found fault with the name and claimed it brought back bad memories from before the Empress came to power. Soon enough, the governing bodies altered the name to Velurian Carriages, but as the years passed they came to be known simply as V-Carriages. The term was quite self-explanatory, really.
It may have seemed a slow way to travel, seated in a transport module pulled only by a mere bipedal species of the region, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. V-Carriages created no toxic waste and were environmentally friendly, although you still needed to feed the Velurians after each stretch. Call me old-fashioned, but as a travelling journalist I wanted to experience the whole thing for myself once in a while.
“Mr Delassi?”
I raised my head to see a female Razial appear at the entrance to my transport module. Her presence was not unwelcome.
“Ah, do come in, Virona,” I said, releasing the mental lock set into the doors which barred all Velurians from crossing over into forbidden areas. “Thank you for coming. I’m glad you could meet with me at such short notice.”
“Not at all, Delassi, not at all,” she said with a brief smile. Her light blue skin had a tinge of yellow in the morning light, and I suspected that she had been applying some kind of otherworld product recently. Perhaps to appeal to other Razials? I was unsure of her relationship status.
“It isn’t every day that I can talk about my work to an outsider,” she said. “I’m more than happy to oblige to your request.” Her gaze shifted slightly towards the window, which lay wide open. “Will you close that? I refuse to have any of those Delurian toxins poison my future offspring.”
I did so without any physical movement, shutting the window tight using the tiny mental power required to activate it. I had made my acquaintance with Virona on the long route to the underground cities of Jenastria, and the relationship appeared to be beneficial to both of us. She was a fairly well-known historian who had published quite a few case studies of her own, and I was intrigued to see how she would help with my own work.
“Mr Delassi, I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to get straight to it.”
She seated herself opposite me, placing one hand palm-down onto the regeneration fluid dispenser which Razials use for short-term sustenance. With today’s technology, it was not uncommon for the wealthy to have additional organs implanted in other parts of their body. In Virona’s case, she had an extra mouth placed right inside her hand. It was simply a lot more convenient than having to continuously transfer food to your face all the time.
“I understand you’re a travelling journalist in these parts,” she said, a pulsating glow radiating from her hand as she began to feed. “You’re writing an article on post-Velurian history and the effects of alien growth on Razial society, yes?”
I could immediately tell by her accent that she had lived in Jenastria all her life, presumably from one of the northern regions where the toxic content was much lower. Not many could afford to live in such a place; the deeper you went into Jenastria, the more expensive it became, and the greater the risks involved. Of course, it went both ways. If you played your cards right and knew how to manipulate your position in Razial society, living so close to Empress Straza could be quite a lucrative investment. You had to think of the long-term possibilities.
“That’s correct,” I answered, leaning back in my seat. It adjusted itself automatically in response to my perceived thought patterns. “I’m not trying to promote Jenastria as a whole, but rather I’m interested in making my own observations. You mentioned before that this is your area of expertise.”
“Certainly, Mr Delassi,” she said pleasantly. “It’s been perhaps twenty five years since I published my first work – officially recognised by the governing bodies put in place by Empress Straza, that is – but my knowledge of historical affairs remains as fresh as ever. We Razials pride ourselves on keeping our minds young. Should we start at the beginning?”
I spoke quickly to forestall her. “Before we begin, Virona,” I said, “I think an overview of the situation between Razials and Velurians would not go amiss. The Velurians were originally the natives of Jenastria, weren’t they?”
She frowned, as if not expecting this kind of question. “Oh, Delassi, really now. This topic has been covered so many times over the past two hundred years. Yes, the Velurians were the original natives of our great land of Jenastria. Are you going to start giving me arguments about equal treatment between alien species and all that rubbish? I thought this was an intellectual conversation, not the kind that otherworlders insist on bringing up in their foolish debates.”
“Not at all!” I said hastily. “I’m not excusing what the Velurians have done or the destruction they’ve caused to the planet. I’m simply starting from…the beginning. Just like you said.”
“Good,” Virona said rather huffily, an arrogant tone in her voice. “I’m glad we agree on that, because I don’t like Velurians, Delassi. You see the kind of toxic atmosphere we have to live in these days? That’s all down to them. All the mental energy in the universe couldn’t purify what they did to the planet. We are fortunate that Empress Straza was able to wipe most of them out!” She sighed. “Oh, Delassi, I’ve seen Velurians up close – they are such ugly creatures. They walk on two feet without the aid of any other limbs, they have only one functioning biological heart, their respiratory system is full of so many flaws, and they can’t even procreate without another member of their species. Delassi, these creatures are simply so limited! Can you imagine?”
I sighed and turned over another page of the journal through which I was tracking the general interview notes. Virona’s view of Velurians was nothing new in this day and age, and in fact general opinion of the resident aliens used to be much, much worse than this. There were still a few Velurian zoos open to the public.
“Let’s talk about what happened when Empress Straza encountered the Velurians,” I said encouragingly. “General consensus is that the natives were extremely hostile. The war lasted over three hundred years, didn’t it?”
Virona removed the palm of her hand from the dispenser, which was then automatically replaced and refilled. “Well, Delassi,” she said, “I can tell you that this is a topic which I have covered in many of my published works. But there’s nothing wrong with telling you first-hand. Empress Straza, originally Lady Straza, was a high-ranking ambassador of great repute within the Razial colonial ships. She was by no means the leader of the colonies, but the original commander was killed in action by a hostile Velurian attack which claimed the lives of many brave Razials.” Her gaze met mine. “Razials are not a violent species, Delassi, as well you know. Do you see us mistreating these barbaric aliens? Do you see us trying to harm them in any way? No, you do not.”
I wasn’t sure whether to mention to her that Velurians were often deprived of food and air in order to force them to comply. The average Razial can easily sustain themselves under such conditions and would probably not see that as a major punishment, but a Velurian certainly would. I kept silent and allowed Virona to continue.
“You know, of course, how everything proceeded from there,” she said. “Straza organised a select force of military generals and mental specialists to retaliate. Velurians have little defence against psychic attacks and this weakness was very easy to exploit. Their technology was quite abysmal, too – these primitive aliens had barely learned how to pilot a space vessel which could scarcely reach their own moon, let alone fly it anywhere useful. But I digress.
“The natives had some peculiar tactics of their own. Perhaps they had so many countries and were spread out upon such a large area, but Straza was forced to retreat and call in for greater numbers from our mother planet. Undercover espionage proved quite useful, too, but in the resulting war we Razials had to annihilate about a third of the entire Velurian population. You understand that mind control was just in the beginning stages back then, and we didn’t have the resources to dominate an entire species by psychic power alone.”
She gestured out the window of the V-Carriage with one hand. “See that, Delassi?” Virona was pointing at the angry red haze which blanketed the sky. “We didn’t expect the Velurians to have chemical weapons. We didn’t expect them to be so fanatical about trying to kill us that they would actually resort to sacrificing members of their own species. It’s quite laughable to many Razials that any species would act this way.
“The war lasted three hundred years, as you say, and twelve of their major countries were obliterated from the face of the earth before other nations started to surrender to us. The Velurians were demoted to slave status, of course, and restricted access to nourishment or air. Hardly any problem for us. Today, Velurians still have some freedom about where they may go and what they may say, but a restrictive mental barrier is kept in place to control what they can do. Obviously, none of them are intelligent enough to break such a barrier.” She snorts with derision. “Pretty pathetic, really. Thousands of years of evolution, and not one of them can show a glimmer of any real psychic abilities.”
I was busily inscribing all of this in my journal, barely even looking up as Virona talked. This had all been covered before, of course, but what I wanted were first-hand facts from the historian herself. This was going exactly how I wanted.
“Another question, Virona,” I said, putting my journal down for a second. “What are your thoughts about how Velurians view Empress Straza?”
She frowned again. “What do you mean?”
“Velurians are said to view Empress Straza as a tyrant, a force of evil who took everything from them and is perhaps solely responsible for turning them into slaves of Jenastria. Thousands of them die every year in the mines, after all…”
“Nonsense,” Virona scoffed. “Empress Straza is the reason why you and I are still alive today. When I was a child, my mother took me to see one of the national celebrations.” There was a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. “You should have seen it, Delassi! A great feast lay before us, songs and dancing throughout the night, and Empress Straza herself gave a speech to celebrate our independence from those worthless aliens. Delurians were forced to serve us hand and foot. I remember using one of them as a footrest.” She sighed wistfully. “Yes, my family were definitely on good terms with Straza. It’s partly because of her that I became the person I am today…
“Oh, yes.” The annoyed expression returned to her face rather quickly. “You were talking about what the Velurians think about all this. My response is: why should I care? They almost destroyed this beautiful world, centuries ago, before Straza took over. It is ignorant to call her “evil” – ignorant and childish. Children see things in black and white, as good and evil. We are not children, Delassi, though children are our future. It is vital that everyone knows that.
“Did you have any more questions, Mr Delassi?”
I filled up a few more pages of my journal via psychic manipulation alone, and then closed the book tightly. It made the kind of sound you get when you reach a very satisfactory ending.
“Just one, Virona,” I said calmly. “I believe we’re about to reach our destination at one of the underground cities. I’ve always wanted to see inside the central hub of Jenastria. Trade, commerce, entertainment…”
“Quite,” she replied. “And your question?”
I took a deep breath. “Would you like to accompany me a little longer, Virona? On a purely personal venture for both of us?”
She smiled more radiantly than usual, perhaps anticipating that I might ask such a thing of her, perhaps pleasantly surprised. The practice of courtship was a little outdated here in Jenastria, but there were still places where it was still a viable concept. Virona met my eyes, and there was no doubt in my mind that the emotion between us was quite mutual.
“Mr Delassi, this conversation has been both intriguing and fascinating for me,” she said, her eyes shining. “I would be delighted to continue it with you. Lead on.”
She offered her hand to me, and I took it, stepping out of the transport module and into the bustling cities of Jenastria which lay waiting for us under the surface. My thoughts of the past no longer bothered me. Virona joined me at my side. The red sky cast its faint glow upon her face, before we disappeared underground once more.
