Today i have a confession to make: i'm a little bit of a minmaxer. And honestly, i think that's a pretty desirable trait in a DM. The minmaxer knows the rules, and exploits them to maximum efficiency.
"But wait, what does that have to do with spell use in society?" - someone, probably.
Well, the thing is that humans are absolutely all about minmaxing. There's a rule in the universe that reads "gas expands when hot", and suddenly we have steam engines (or something like that, i'm a political scientist not an engineer). A rule says 1+1 = 2, and suddenly we have calculus, computers and all kinds of digital stuff that runs on math. Sound is energy? Let's convert that shit into electricity, run it through a wire and turn it back into sound on the other side.
Bruh. Science is just minmaxing the laws of nature. Humanity in real life is just a big bunch of munchkins, and it should be no different in your setting.
And
that is why minmaxing magic usage is something societies as a whole would do, specially with some notable spells. Today i will go in depth on how and why each of these notable mentions has a huge impact on a fantasy society.
We'll go from lowest level to highest, keeping in mind that the lower level a spell the more common it should be to find someone who has it, so often a level 2-3 spell will have more impact than a level 9 spell.
Mending (cantrip).
Repair anything in one minute. Your axe lost its edge? Tore your shirt? Just have someone Mend it.
Someone out there is crying "but wait! Not every village has a wizard!" and while that is true, keep in mind any High Elf knows a cantrip, as can any Variant Human.
A single "mender" could replace a lot of the work a smith, woodworker or seamstress does, freeing their time to only work on making new things rather than repair old ones.
Prestidigitation (cantrip).
Clean anything in six seconds. Committed axe murders until the axe got blunt, and now there's blood everywhere? Dog shit on your pillow out of spite? Someone walked all over the living room with muddy boots? Just Prestidigitate it away.
This may look like a small thing, but its actually huge when you apply it to laundry. Before washing machines were a thing housewives had to spend several hours a week washing them manually, and with Prestidigitation you can just hire someone to get it done in a few minutes.
A single "magic cleaner" can attend to several dozen homes, if not hundreds, thus freeing several hours of the time of dozens of women.
Fun fact: there's an interesting theory that says feminism only existed because of laundry machines and similar devices. Women found themselves having more free time, which they used to read and socialize. Educated women with more contacts made for easy organization of political movements, and the fact men were now able to do "the women's work" by pushing a button meant men were less opposed to losing their housewives' labor. Having specialized menders and magic cleaners could cause a comparable revolution in a fantasy setting, and help explain why women have a similar standing to men even in combat occupations such as adventuring.
Healing in general (1st-2nd level). This one is fairly obvious. A commoner has 4 hit points, that means just about any spell is a full heal to the average person. That means most cuts, stab wounds, etc. can be solved by the resident cleric. Even broken bones that would leave you in bed for months can be solved in a matter of seconds as soon as the holy man arrives.
But that's nothing compared to the ability to cure diseases. While the only spell that can cure diseases is Lesser Restoration, which is second level, a paladin can do it much more easily with just a Lay on Hands. This means if one or two people catch a disease it can just be eradicated with a touch.
However doing that comes with a cost. If everyone is instantly expunged of illness, the populace does not build up their immune systems. Regular disease becomes less common, sure, but whenever it is reintroduced (by, say, immigrants or contact with less civilized humanoids) it can spread like wildfire, afflicting people so fast that no amount of healers will have the magic juice to deal with it.
Diseases become rare, plagues become common.
Continual Flame (2nd). Ok, this one is a topic i love and could easily be its own post.
There's an article called "Why the Falling Cost of Light Matters", which goes in detail about how man went from chopping wood for fire, to using animal fat for candles, then other oils, whale oil, kerosene, then finally incandescent light bulbs, and more recently LED lights. Each of these leaps is orders of grandeur more efficient than the previous one, to the point that the cost of light today is about 500,000 times cheaper than it was for for a caveman. And until the early 1900s the only way mankind knew of making light was to set things on fire.
Continual Flame on the other hand allows you to turn 50gp worth of rubies and a 2nd level spell slot into a torch that burns forever. In a society that spends 60 hours of labor to be able to generate 140 minutes of light, this is a huge game changer.
This single spell, which i am 99% sure was just created as an excuse for why the dungeon is lit despite going for centuries without maintenance, allows you to have things like public lighting. Even if you only add a new "torchpost" every other week or month sooner or later you'll be left with a neatly lit city, specially if the city has had thousands of years in which to gather the rubies and light them up.
And because the demand of rubies becomes so important, consider how governments would react. Lighting the streets is a public service, if its strategically relevant to make the city safer at night, would that not warrant some restrictions on ruby sales? Perhaps even banning the use of rubies in jewelry?
Trivia: John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in history, gained his wealth selling kerosene. Kerosene at the time was used to light lamps. Gasoline was invented much later, when Rockefeller tasked a bunch of scientists to come up with a use for some byproducts of the kerosene production. This illustrates how much money is to be had in the lighting industry, and you could even have your own Rockefeller ruby baron in your game. I shall call him... Dohn J. Stonebreaker. Perfect name for a mining entrepreneur.
Whether the ruby trade ends up a monopoly under the direct supervision of the king or a free market, do keep in mind that Continual Flame is by far the most efficient way of creating light.
Gentle Repose (2nd). Cast it on a corpse, and it stays preserved for 10 days.
This has many potential uses, from preserving foodstuffs (hey, some rare meats are expensive enough to warrant it) to keeping the bodies of old rulers preserved. Even if a ruler died of old age and cannot be resurrected, the body could be kept "fresh" out of respect/ceremony. Besides, it keeps the corpse from becoming undead.
Skywrite (2nd). Ok, this one is mostly a gag. While the spell
can be used by officials to make official announcements to the populace, such as new laws or important news, i like to just use it for spam. I mean, its a ritual spell that writes a message on the sky; what else would people use it for?
Imagine you show up in a city, and there's half a dozen clouds reading "buy at X, we have what you need", "get your farming supplies over at Joe's store" or "vote Y for the city council".
The possibilities are endless, and there's no way the players can expect it. Just keep in mind that by RAW the spell can only do words, meaning no images. No Patrick, "8===D" is not a word.
Zone of Truth (2nd). This one is too obvious. Put all suspects of a crime into a ZoT, wait a couple minutes to make sure they fail the save, then ask each one if he did it. Sure its not a perfect system, things like the Ring of Mind Shielding still exist, but it's got a better chance of getting the right guy than most medieval justice systems. And probably more than a few contemporary ones. All while taking only a fraction of the time.
More importantly, with all the average crimes being handled instantly, the guards and investigators have more time to properly investigate the more unusual crimes that might actually involve a Thought Shield, Ring of Mind Shielding or a level 17 Mastermind.
There is a human rights argument against messing with people's minds in any way, which is why this may not be practiced in every kingdom. But there are definitely some more lawful societies that would use ZoT on just about every crime.
Why swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth when you can just stand in a zone of truth?
Another interesting use for ZoT is oaths. When someone is appointed into an office, gets to a high rank in the military or a guild, just put them in a ZoT while they make their oath to stand for the organization's values and yadda yadda. Of course they can be corrupted later on, but at least you make sure they're honest when they are sworn in.
Sending (3rd). Sending is busted in so many ways.
The more "vanilla" use of it is to just communicate over long distances. We all know that information is important, and that sometimes getting information
a whole day ahead can lead to a 40% return on a massive two-year investment. Being able to know of invasions, monsters, disasters, etc. without waiting days or weeks for a courier can be vital for the survival of a nation. Another notable example is
that one dude who ran super fast for a while to be the first to tell his side of a recent event.
But the real broken thing here is... Sending can Send to any creature, on any plane; the only restriction being "with which you are familiar". In D&D dead people just get sent to one of the afterlife planes, meaning that talking to your dead grandfather would be as simple as Sending to him. Settling inheritance disputes was never easier!
Before moving on to the next point let me ask you something: Is a cleric familiar with his god? Is a warlock familiar with his patron?
Speak With Dead (3rd). Much like Sending, this lets you easily settle disputes. Is the senate/council arguing over a controversial topic? Just ask the beloved hero or ruler from 200 years ago what he thinks on the subject. As long his skeleton still has a jaw (or if he has been kept in Gentle Repose), he can answer.
This can also be used to ask people who killed them, except murderers also know this. Plan on killing someone? Accidentally killed someone? Make sure to inutilize the jaw. Its either that, being so stealthy the victim can't identify you, or being caught.
Note on spell availability. Oh boy. No world-altering 4th level spells for some reason, and suddenly we're playing with the big boys now.
Spells up to 3rd level are what I'd consider "somewhat accessible", and can be arranged for a fee even for regular citizens. For instance the vanilla Priest statblock (MM348) is a 5th level cleric, and the standard vanilla Druid (MM346) a 4th level druid.
Spells of 5th level onward will be considered something only the top 1% is able to afford, or large organizations such as guilds, temples or government.
Dream (5th). I was originally going to put Dream along with Sending and Telepathy as "long range communication", but decided against it due to each of them having unique uses.
And when it comes to Dream, it has the unique ability of allowing you to put your 8 hours of sleep to good use. A tutor could hire someone to cast Dream on him, thus allowing him to teach his student for 8 hours at any distance. This is a way you could even access hermits that live in the middle of nowhere or in secluded monasteries. Very wealthy families or rulers would be willing to pay a good amount of money to make sure their heirs get that extra bit of education.
Its like online classes, but while you sleep!
Another interesting use is for cheating. Know a princess or queen you like? She likes you back? Her dad put 400 trained soldiers between you? No problemo! Just find a 9th level Bard, Warlock or Wizard, but who am i kidding, of course it'll be a bard. And that bard is probably you. Now you have 8 hours to do whatever you want, and no physical evidence will be left.
Raise Dead (5th). Few things matter more in life than death. And the ability to resurrect people has a huge impact on society. The impact is so huge that this topic needs topics of its own.
First, diamond monopoly. Remember what i said about how Continual Flame would lead to controlled ruby sales due to its strategic value? This is the same principle, but a hundred times stronger. Resurrection is a huge strategic resource. It makes assassinations harder, can be used to bring back your officials or highest level soldiers over and over during a war, etc. This means more authoritarian regimes would do everything within their power to control the supply and stock of diamonds. Which in turn means if anyone wants to have someone resurrected, even in times of peace, they'll need to call in a favor, do a quest, grease some hands...
Second, resurrection insurance. People hate risks. That's why insurance is such a huge industry, taking up about 15% of the US GDP. People insure their cars, houses... even their lives. Resurrection just means "life insurance" is taken more literally. This makes even more sense when you consider how expensive resurrection is: nobody can afford it in one go, but if you pay a little every month or year you can save up enough to have it done when the need arises.
This is generally incompatible with the idea of a State-run monopoly over diamonds, but that just means different countries within a setting can take different approaches.
To make things easier, i even used some microeconomics to make a sheet in my
personal random generators to calculate the price of such a service. Just head to the "Insurance" tab and fill in the information relative to your setting.
With actual life insurance resurrection can cost as little as 5gp a year for humans or 8sp a year for elves, making resurrection way more affordable than it looks.
Also, do you know why pirates wore a single gold earring? It was so that if your body washes up on the shore whoever finds it can use the money to arrange a proper burial. Sure there's a risk of the finder taking it and walking away, but the pirates did it anyway. With resurrection in play, might as well just wear a diamond earring instead and hope the finder is nice enough to bring you back.
I got so carried away with the whole insurance thing i almost forgot: the possibility of resurrection also changes how murders are committed.
If you want someone dead but resurrection exists, you have to remove the vital organs. Decapitation would be far more common. Sure resurrection is still possible, but it requires higher level spells or Reincarnate, which has... quirks.
As a result it should be very obvious when someone was killed by accident or an overreaction, and when someone was specifically out to kill the victim.
Scrying (5th). This one is somewhat obvious, in that everyone and their mother knows it helps finding people. But who needs finding? Well, that would be those who are hiding.
The main use i see for this spell, by far, is locating escaped criminals. Just collect a sample of hair or blood when arresting someone (or shipping them to hard labor which is way smarter), and if they escape you'll be almost guaranteed to successfully scry on them.
A similar concept to this is seen in the Dragon Age series. If you're a mage the paladins keep a sample of your blood in something called a phylactery, and that can be used to track you down. There's even a quest or two about mages trying to destroy their phylacteries before escaping.
Similarly, if you plan a jailbreak it would be highly beneficial to destroy the blood/hair sample first. As a matter of fact i can even see a thieves guild hiring a low level party to take out the sample while the professional infiltrators get the prisoner out. Keep in mind both events must be done at the same time, otherwise the guards will just collect a new sample or would have already taken it to the wizard.
But guards aren't the only ones with resources. A loan shark could keep blood samples of his debtors, a mobster can keep one of those who owe him favors, etc. And the blood is ceremoniously returned only when the debt is fully paid.
Teleportation Circle (5th), Transport Via Plants (6th). In other words, long range teleportation. This is such a huge thing that it is hard to properly explain how important it is.
Teleportation Circle creates a 10ft. circle, and everyone has one round to get in and appear on the target location. Assuming 30ft. movement that means you can get 192 people through, which is a lot of potential merchants going across any distance. Or 672 people dashing.
Math note: A 30ft radius square around a 10ft. diameter square, minus the 4 original squares. Or [(6*2+2)^2]-4 squares of 5ft. each. Hence 192 people.
Getting hundreds of merchants, workers, soldiers, etc. across any distance is nothing to scoff at. In fact, it could help explain why PHB item prices are so standardized:
Arbitrage is so easy and cheap that price differences across multiple markets become negligible. Unless of course countries start setting up tax collectors outside of the permanent teleportation circles in order to charge tariffs.
Transport Via Plants does something very similar but it requires 5ft of movement to go through, which means less people can be teleported. On the other hand it doesn't burn 50gp and can take you to any tree the druid is familiar with, making it nearly impossible for tax collectors to be waiting on the other side. Unfortunately druids tend to be a lot less willing to aid smugglers, so your best bet might be a bard using spells that don't belong to his list.
With these methods of long range teleportation not only does trade get easier, but it also becomes possible to colonize or inhabit far away places. For instance if someone finds a gold mine in the antarctic you could set up a mine and bring food and other supplies via teleportation.
Major Image (6th level slot). Major Image is a 3rd level spell that creates an illusion over a 20ft cube, complete with image, sound, smell and temperature. When cast with a 6th level slot or higher, it lasts indefinitely.
That my friends, is a huge spell. Why get the world's best painter to decorate the ceiling of your cathedral when you can just get an illusion made in six seconds?
The uses for decorating large buildings is already good, but remember: we're not restricted to sight.
Cast this on a room and it'll always be cool and smell nice. Inns would love that, as would anyone who always sleeps or works in the same room. Desert cities have never been so chill.
You can even use an illusion to make the front of your shop seem flashier, while hollering on loop to bring customers in.
The only limit to this spell is your imagination, though I'm pretty sure it was originally made just to hide secret passages.
Trivia: the ki-rin (VGM163) can cast Major Image as a 6th level spell, at will. It's probably meant to give them fabulous lairs yet all it takes is someone doing the holy horsey a big favor, and it could enchant the whole city in a few hours. Shiniest city on the planet, always at a nice temperature and with a fragrance of lilac, gooseberries or whatever you want.
Simulacrum (7th). Spend 12 hours and 1500gp worth of ruby dust, and get a clone of yourself. Notably, each caster can only have one simulacrum, regardless of who the person he cloned is.
How this changes the world? By allowing the rich and powerful to be in two places at once. Kings now have a perfect impersonator who thinks just like them. A wealthy banker can run two branches of his company. Etc.
This makes life much easier, but also competes with Continual Flame over resources.
It also gives "go fuck yourself" a whole new meaning, making the sentence a valid Suggestion.
Clone (8th). If there's one spell i despise, its Clone.
Wizard-only preemptive resurrection. Touch spell, costs 1.000gp worth of diamonds each time, takes 120 days to come into effect, and creates a copy of the creature that the soul occupies if the original dies. Oh, and
the copy can be made younger.
Why is it so despicable? Because it makes people effectively immortal. Accidents and assassinations just get you sent to the clone, and old age can be forever delayed because you keep going back to younger versions of yourself. Being a touch spell means the wizard can cast it on anyone he wants.
In other words: high level wizards, and only wizards, get to make anyone immortal.
That means wizards will inevitably rule any world in which this spell exists.
Think about it. Rulers want to live forever. Wizards can make you live forever. Wizards want other stuff, which you must give them if you want to continue being Cloned. Rulers who refuse this deal eventually die, rulers who accept stick around forever. Natural selection makes it so that eventually the only rulers left are those who sold their soul to wizards. Figuratively, i hope.
The fact that there are only a handful of wizards out there who are high enough level to cast the spell means its easier for them organize and/or form a cartel or union (cartels/unions are easier to maintain the fewer suppliers are involved).
This leads to a dystopian scenario where mages rule, kings are authoritarian pawns and nobody else has a say in anything. Honestly it would make for a fun campaign in and of itself, but unless that's specifically what you're going for it'll just derail everything else.
Oh, and Clone also means any and all liches are absolute idiots. Liches are people who turned themselves into undead abominations in order to gain eternal life at the cost of having to feed on souls. They're all able to cast 9th level wizard spells, so why not just cast an 8th level one and keep undeath away? Saves you the trouble of going after souls, and you keep the ability to enjoy food or a day in the sun.
Demiplane (8th). Your own 30ft. room of nothingness. Perfect place for storage and a DM's nightmare given how once players have access to it they'll just start looting furniture and such. Oh the horror.
But alas, infinite storage is not the reason this is a broken spell. No sir.
Remember: you can access someone else's demiplane. That means a caster in city 1 can put things into a demiplane, and a caster in city 2 can pull them out of any surface.
But wait, there's more! There's nothing anywhere saying you can't have two doors to the same demiplane open at once. Now you're effectively opening a portal between two places, which stays open for a whole hour.
But wait, there's even more! Anyone from any plane can open a door to your neat little demiplane. Now we can get multiple casters from multiple planes connecting all of those places, for one hour. Sure this is a very expensive thing to do since you're having to coordinate multiple high level individuals in different planes, but the payoff is just as high. We're talking about potential integration between the most varied markets imaginable, few things in the multiverse are more valuable or profitable. Its a do-it-yourself Sigil.
One little plot hook i like about demiplanes is abandoned/inactive ones. Old wizard/warlock died, and nobody knows how to access his demiplanes. Because he's at least level 15 you just
know there's some good stuff in there, but nobody can get to it. Now the players have to find a journal, diary, stored memory or any other way of knowing enough about the demiplane to access it.
True Polymorph (9th). True Polymorph. The spell that can turn any race into any other race, or object. And vice-versa. You can go full fairy godmother and turn mice into horses. For a spell that can change anything about one's body it would not be an unusual ruling to say it can change one's sex. At the very least it can turn a man into a chair, and the chair into a woman (or vice-versa of course).
But honestly, that's just the tip of the True Polymorph iceberg. Just read this more carefully:
> You transform the creature into a different creature, the creature into a nonmagical object,
or the object into a creature This means you can turn a rock or twig into a human. A fully functional human with, as far as the rules go, a soul.
You can create life.
But wait, there's more! Nothing there says you have to turn the target into a
known creature on an
existing creature. The narcissist bard wants to create a whole race of people who look like him? True Polymorph. A player wants to play a weird ass homebrew race and you have no idea how it would fit into the setting? True Polymorph. Wizard needs a way to quickly populate a kingdom and doesn't want to wait decades for the subjects to grow up? True Polymorph. Warlock must provide his patron 100 souls in order to free his own? True Polymorph. The sorcerer wants to do something cool? Fuck that guy, sorcerers don't get any of the fun high level spells; True Poly is available to literally every arcane caster but the sorcerer.
Note: what good is Twinned Spell if all the high level twinnable spells have been specifically made unavailable to sorcerers?
Do keep in mind however that this brings a whole new discussion on human rights. Does a table have rights? Does it have rights after being turned into a living thing? If it had an owner, is it now a slave? Your country will need so many new laws, just to deal with this one spell.
People often say that high level wizards are deities for all intents and purposes. This is the utmost proof of that. Clerics don't get to create life out of thin air, wizards do. The cleric worships a deity, the wizard
is the deity.
Conclusion. Intelligent creatures not only can game the system, but it is entirely in character for them to do so. I'll even argue that if humanoids don't use magic to improve their lives when it's available, you're pushing the suspension of disbelief.
With this post i hope to have helped you make more complex and realistic societies, as well as provide a few interesting and unusual plot hooks
Lastly, as much as i hate comment begging i must admit i am eager to see what spells other players think can completely change the world. Because at the end of the day we all know that extra d6 damage is not what causes empires to rise and fall, its the utility spells that make the best stories.
Edit: Added spell level to all spells, and would like to thank
u/kaul_field for helping with finishing touches and being overall a great mod.
Introduction
For those not in the know, the Tartaria conspiracy theory is one of the most bizarre pieces of pseudo history out there. Its core notion is that the region known as ‘Tartaria’ or ‘Grand Tartary’ in Early Modern European maps was not simply a vague geographical designate, but in fact a vast, centralised empire. Said empire emerged… at some point, and it disappeared… at some point, but for… some reason, its existence has been covered up to suit… some narrative or another. As you can tell, there’s a lot of diverse ideas here, and the fact that there hasn’t been the equivalent of a Christological schism every time a controversial thread goes up is really quite impressive. While this post will
primarily address one particular piece of writing that is at the core of Tartaria conspiracy theorising, I’ll include a few tidbits to show you just how much madness its adherents have come up with. But first, some background.
State of Play, and why I’m doing this
The Tartaria theory has a small but active following on subreddits such as
Tartaria,
tartarianarchitecture, and
CulturalLayer, which as of writing have around 5,300, 2,400 and 23,000 subscribers, respectively, but it’s clear from the
8 questions on the topic asked at AskHistorians since January 2019 and
this debunk request from June that it’s a theory that has somewhat broad appeal and can reach beyond its core niche. This is unsurprising given how little education most people in the West receive about basically anything east of Greece: simply put, the reality of Eurasian history is just not something most of us are taught. And if we don’t know the reality of Eurasian history to begin with, or if we do then it's all in bits and pieces where we might not even know a basic set of dates and names, then what seems to be a pretty developed narrative about a lost empire actually turns out rather plausible.
Unfortunately, many debunks of the Tartaria narrative come from people pushing competing conspiracy theories, like this guy claiming that there’s a
global Jewish Phoenecian conspiracy and that Tartaria is simply rehashing the notion that Khazars were Jews in order to distract from the real Phoenecian threat at the heart of global society or some nonsense like that. (I don’t really care, I died of laughter after page 3.) Now, there are those coming from serious perspectives, but they focus largely on the problems with Tartaria as a concept rather than addressing the more specific claims being made. This is of course valuable in its own right (shoutout to
Kochevnik81 for their responses to the AskHistorians threads), but we can go deeper by really striking at the roots of this ‘theory’ – what is the ‘evidence’ they’re presenting? But to do that, we need to find out what the origins of the ‘theory' are, and thus what its linchpins are. Incidentally, it is because of some recent events regarding those origins that I’ve been finally prompted to write this post.
Where does it come from?
My attempts to find the exact origins of the Tartaria conspiracy have been not entirely fruitful, as the connections I’ve found have been relatively circumstantial at best. But as far as I can tell, it at least partially originates with that Russian pseudohistorian we all know and love, Anatoly Fomenko. Fomenko is perhaps best known in the English-speaking world for his 7-volume ‘epic’ from 2002,
History: Fiction or Science?, but in fact he’s been pushing a complete ‘New Chronology’ since the publication of
Novaia khronologia in Russian in 1995. While the New Chronology is best known for its attempt to explain away most of the Middle Ages as a hoax created by the Papacy on the basis of bad astronomy, it also asserts a number of things about Russian history from the Kievan Rus’ to the Romanovs. Key to the Tartaria theory is its claim that there was a vast Slavo-Turkic ‘Russian Horde’ based out of ‘Tartaria’ which dominated Eurasia until the last ‘Horde’ ruler, Boris Godunov, was overthrown by the European Mikhail Romanov. This, of course, is a clear attempt at countering the notion of a ‘Tatar Yoke’ over Russia, as you can’t have a ‘Tatar Yoke’ if the Tatars were Russians all along. Much as I’d like to explain that in more detail here, I don’t have to: in 2004, Konstantin Sheiko at the University of Wollongong wrote an entire PhD thesis looking at the claims of Fomenko’s New Chronology and contextualising them within currents of Russian nationalism,
which can be accessed online.
But I personally suspect that if there are Fomenko connections as far as Tartaria specifically is concerned, they are limited. For one, at one stage users on the Tartaria subreddit
seemed unfamiliar with Fomenko, and there are those arguing that
Fomenko had ‘rewritten’ Tartarian history to be pro-Russian. This is why I said that the evidence was circumstantial. The only other link to Fomenko is indirect: the
CulturalLayer sidebar lists the ‘New Chronology Resource Collection’ and the audiobook of
History: Fiction or Science? under ‘Essential Resources’, and
Tartaria in its ‘Related Subs’.
As far as I can tell, the ultimate origin of its developed form on the Anglophone web traces back to
this post on the StolenHistory forums, posted on 17 April 2018. This makes some chronological sense: only one post on
CulturalLayer that mentions Tartaria predates this. Moreover, KorbenDallas, the OP of the thread, was also the forum’s chief admin, and given that StolenHistory is still (as of writing) the top resource on CulturalLayer’s sidebar, that suggests significant influence. However, using the search function on camas.reddit.io, it was mentioned at least 9 times before then, with the first mention, on 10 January 2018, mentioning that the ‘theory’ had been doing the rounds on the Russian web for at least 5 years. Nevertheless, as the detail in these early comments is sparse and generally refers only to speculation about maps, it is probably fair to say that the first in-depth English-language formulation of the Tartaria ‘theory’ was thus the April 2018 forum post. Funnily enough, it is not cited often on
Tartaria, but that subreddit was created on 27 December, long after discussion had been taking place on places like
CulturalLayer, and combined with the ‘mudflood’ ‘theory’ and the notion of giant humans, which are not significant features of the StolenHistory thread. This more convoluted and multifaceted version of the Tartaria theory doesn’t really have a single-document articulation, hence me not covering it here.
It is this StolenHistory thread which I will be looking at here today. Not just because it seems to be at the heart of it all, but also because it got shut down around 36 hours ago as of writing this post, based on the timestamps of panicked ‘what happened to StolenHistory’ posts on
CulturalLayer and
Tartaria. So what better occasion to go back to the Wayback Machine’s version, seeing as it’s now quite literally impossible to brigade the source? Now as I’ve said, this is not the most batshit insane it gets for the Tartaria crowd, in fact it’s incredibly tame. But by the end of it, I bet you’ll be thinking ‘if this is mild, how much more worse is the modern stuff!?’ And the best part is, I can debunk most of it without recourse to any other sources at all, because so much of it involves them posting sources out of context or expecting them to be read tendentiously.
But that’s enough background. Let us begin.
Part 1: The Existence
Exhibit 1: The Encylcopædia Britannica, 1771
”Tartary, a vast country in the northern parts of Asia, bounded by Siberia on the north and west: this is called Great Tartary. The Tartars who lie south of Muscovy and Siberia, are those of Astracan, Circassia, and Dagistan, situated north-west of the Caspian-sea; the Calmuc Tartars, who lie between Siberia and the Caspian-sea; the Usbec Tartars and Moguls, who lie north of Persia and India; and lastly, those of Tibet, who lie north-west of China.” - Encyclopædia Britannica, Vol. III, Edinburgh, 1771, p. 887.
Starting a post about the ‘hidden’ history of Central Asia with an encyclopædia entry from Scotland is really getting off to a good start, isn’t it? Anyone with a sense of basic geography can tell you that Tibet lies due west of China, not northwest. But more importantly, this shows you how single-minded the Tartaria advocates are and how tendentiously they read things. ‘Country’ need not actually refer to a state entity, it can just be a geographical space, especially in more archaic contexts such as this. Moreover, the ethnographic division of the ‘Tartars’ into Astrakhanis, Circassians, Dagestanis, Kalmuks, Uzbeks, and, for whatever reason, Tibetans, pretty clearly goes against the notion of a unified Tartary.
Now compare to the description given by Wikipedia, ”Tartary (Latin: Tartaria) or Great Tartary (Latin: Tartaria Magna) was a name used from the Middle Ages until the twentieth century to designate the great tract of northern and central Asia stretching from the Caspian Sea and the Ural Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, settled mostly by Turko-Mongol peoples after the Mongol invasion and the subsequent Turkic migrations.”
Obviously, Wikipedia is not a good source for… anything, really, but the fact that they’re giving a 349-year-old encyclopaedia primacy over the summary sentence of a wiki article is demonstrative of how much dishonesty is behind this. And it only gets worse from here.
Exhibit 2: Hermann Moll’s A System of Geography, 1701
THE Country of Tartary, call'd Great Tartary, to distinguish it from the Lesser, in Europe, has for its Boundaries, on the West, the Caspian Sea, and Moscovitick Tartary; on the North, the Scythian, or Tartarian Sea; on the East, the Sea of the Kalmachites, and the Straight of Jesso; and on the South, China, India, or the Dominions of the great Mogul and Persia : So that it is apparently the largest Region of the whole Continent of Asia, extending it self [sic] farthest, both towards the North and East: In the modern Maps, it is plac'd within the 70th and 170th Degree of Longitude, excluding Muscovitick Tartary; as also between the 40 and 72 Degree of Northern Latitude.
Immediately underneath the scan of this text is the statement, clearly highlighted, that
Tartary was not a tract. It was a country.
Hmm, very emphatic there. Except wait no, the same semantic problem recurs. ‘Country’ need not mean ‘state’. Moreover, in the very same paragraph, Moll (or rather his translator) refers to Tartary as a ‘Region’, which very much disambiguates the idea. Aside from that, it is telling that Moll refers to three distinct ‘Tartaries’: ’Great Tartary’ in Asia, ‘Lesser Tartary’ in Europe, and ‘Muscovite Tartary’ – that is, the eastern territories of the Russian Tsardom. If, as they are saying, ‘Great Tartary’ was a coherent entity, whatever happened to ‘Lesser Tartary’?
Exhibit 3: A 1957 report by the CIA on ‘National Cultural Development Under Communism’
Is a conspiracy theorist… actually believing a CIA document? Yep. I’ll add some context later that further complicates the issue.
Or let us take the matter of history, which, along with religion, language and literature, constitute the core of a people’s cultural heritage. Here again the Communists have interfered in a shameless manner. For example, on 9 August 1944, the Central Committee of the Communist Party, sitting in Moscow, issued a directive ordering the party’s Tartar Provincial Committee “to proceed to a scientific revolution of the history of Tartaria, to liquidate serious shortcomings and mistakes of a nationalistic character committed by individual writers and historians in dealing with Tartar history.” In other words, Tartar history was to be rewritten—let its be frank, was to be falsified—in order to eliminate references to Great Russian aggressions and to hide the facts of the real course of Tartar-Russian relations.
[similar judgement on Soviet rewriting of histories of Muslim areas to suit a pro-Russian agenda]
What’s fascinating about the inclusion of this document is that it is apparently often invoked as a piece of
anti-Fomenko evidence, by tying New Chronology in with older Russian-nationalist Soviet revisionism. So not only is it ironic that they’re citing a CIA document, of all things, but a CIA document often used to undermine the spiritual founder of the whole Tartaria ‘theory’ in the first place! But to return to the point, the fundamental issue is that it’s tendentious. This document from 1957 obviously is not going to be that informed on the dynamics of Central Asian ethnicity and history in the way that a modern scholar would be.
In a broader sense, what this document is supposed to prove is that Soviet coverups are why we don’t know about Tartaria. But if most of the evidence came from Western Europe to begin with, why would a Soviet coverup matter? Why wasn’t Tartarian history deployed as a counter-narrative during the Cold War?
Exhibit 4: ‘An 1855 Source’
This is from a footnote in Sir George Cornwalle Lewis’
An Inquiry into the Credibility of the Early Roman History, citing a travelogue by Evariste Huc that had been published in French in 1850 and was soon translated into English. From the digitised version of of Huc’s book on Project Gutenberg (emphasis copied over from the thread):
Such remains of ancient cities are of no unfrequent occurrence in the deserts of Mongolia; but everything connected with their origin and history is buried in darkness. Oh, with what sadness does such a spectacle fill the soul! The ruins of Greece, the superb remains of Egypt,—all these, it is true, tell of death; all belong to the past; yet when you gaze upon them, you know what they are; you can retrace, in memory, the revolutions which have occasioned the ruins and the decay of the country around them. Descend into the tomb, wherein was buried alive the city of Herculaneum,—you find there, it is true, a gigantic skeleton, but you have within you historical associations wherewith to galvanize it. But of these old abandoned cities of Tartary, not a tradition remains; they are tombs without an epitaph, amid solitude and silence, uninterrupted except when the wandering Tartars halt, for a while, within the ruined enclosures, because there the pastures are richer and more abundant.
There’s a paraphrase from Lewis as well, but you can just read it on the thread. The key thing here is that yes, there were abandoned settlements in the steppe. Why must this be indicative of a lost sedentary civilisation, and not instead the remnants of political capitals of steppe federations which were abandoned following those federations’ collapse? Places like Karakorum, Kubak Zar, Almaliq and Sarai were principally built around political functions, being centres for concentration of religious and ritual authority (especially monasteries) and stores of non-movable (or difficult to move) wealth. But individual examples of abandoned settlements are not evidence of broad patterns of settlement that came to be abandoned en masse. Indeed, the very fact that the cited shepherd calls the abandoned location ‘The Old Town’ in the singular implies just how uncommon such sites were – for any given region, there might really only be one of note.
Exhibit 5: Ethnic characteristics in artistic depictions of Chinggis and Timur
I… don’t quite know what to make of these.
Today, we have certain appearance related stereotypes. I think we are very much off there. It looks like Tartary was multi-religious, and multi-cultural. One of the reasons I think so is the tremendous disparity between what leaders like Genghis Khan, Batu Khan, Timur aka Tamerlane looked like to the contemporary artists vs. the appearance attributed to them today.
Ummm, what?
These are apparently what they look like today. These are ‘contemporary’ depictions of Chinggis:
Except, as the guy posting the thread says, these are 15th-18th century depictions… so NOT CONTEMPORARY.
As for Timur, we have:
In what bizzaro world are these contemporary?
We’ll get to Batur Khan in a moment because that’s its own kettle of worms. But can this user not recognise that artists tend to depict things in ways that are familiar? Of course white European depictions of Chinggis and Timur will tend to make them look like white Europeans, while East Asian depictions of Chinggis will tend to make him look Asian, and Middle Eastern depictions of Chinggis and Timur will make them look Middle Eastern. This doesn’t prove that ‘Tartaria’ was multicultural, in fact it you’d have an easier time using this ‘evidence’ to argue that Chinggis and Timur were shapeshifters who could change ethnicities at will!
Exhibit 6: Turkish sculptures
Why this person thinks modern Turkish sculptures are of any use to anyone baffles me. The seven sculptures shown are of Batu Khan (founder of the ‘Golden Horde’/Jochid khanates), Timur, Bumin (founder of the First Turkic Khaganate), Ertugrul (father of Osman, the founder of the Ottoman empire), Babur (founder of the Mughal Empire), Attila the Hun, and Kutlug Bilge Khagan (founder of the Uyghur Khaganate). They are accompanied (except in the case of Ertugrul) by the dates of the empires/confederations that they founded – hence, for instance, Babur’s dates being 1526 to 1858, the lifespan of the Mughal Empire, or Timur’s being 1368 (which seems arbitrary) to 1507 (the fall of Herat to the Shaybanids). To quote the thread:
A few of them I do not know, but the ones I do look nothing like what I was taught at school. Also dates are super bizarre on those plaques.
Again, Turkish sculptors make Turkic people look like Turks. Big surprise. And the dates are comprehensible if you just take a moment to think.
Do Turks know something we don't?
Turkish, evidently.
Exhibit 7: A map from 1652 that the user can’t even read
The other reason why I think Tartary had to be multi-religious, and multi-cultural is its vastness during various moments in time. For example in 1652 Tartary appears to have control over the North America.
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/1652-nova-totius-terrarum-orbis-geographica-ac-hydrographica-tabula_1-1-jpg.37277/ This speaks for itself.
The thread was later edited to include a link to a post on ‘Tartarians’ in North America made on 7 August 2018, but that’s beside the point here, read at your own leisure (if you can call it ‘leisure’). Except for the part where at one point he admits he can’t read Latin, and so his entire theory in that post is based on the appearance of the word ‘Tartarorum’ in an unspecified context on a map of North America.
Part 2: The Coverup
The official history is hiding a major world power which existed as late as the 19th century. Tartary was a country with its own flag, its own government and its own place on the map. Its territory was huge, but somehow quietly incorporated into Russia, and some other countries. This country you can find on the maps predating the second half of the 19th century.
…Okay then.
Exhibit 8: Google Ngrams
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/tartary_ngram-jpg.37276/ This screenshot shows that the use of ‘Tartary’ and ‘Tartaria’ declined significantly over time. This is apparently supposed to surprise us. Or maybe it shows that we actually understand the region better…
Part 1a: Back to the existence
You know, a common theme with historical conspiracy theories is how badly they’re laid out, in the literal sense of the layout of their documents and video content. Don’t make a header called ‘The Coverup’ and then only have one thing before jumping back to the evidence for the existence again.
Exhibit 9: A Table
Yet, some time in the 18th century Tartary Muskovite was the biggest country in the world: 3,050,000 square miles.
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/tartary_huge-13-jpg.37329/ I do not have enough palms to slap into my face. Do they not understand that this is saying how much of Tartary was owned… by
foreign powers?
Exhibit 10: Book covers
You can look at the images on the thread itself but here’s a few highlights:
- 1654: Bellum Tartaricum, or the Conquest of China By the Invasion of the Tartars, who in the last seven years, have wholly subdued that empire
- 1670: Historia de la Conquista de la China por el Tartaro
Histories of the Qing conquest of China, because as far as Europeans were concerned the Manchus were Tartars. Proof of Tartaria because…?
- 1662: The Voyages and Travels of the Ambassadors of the Duke of Holstein, to the Great Duke of Muscovy, and the King of Persia… Containing a compleat History of Muscovy, Tartary, Persia, and Other Adjacent Countries…
An ambassador who never set foot in ‘Tartary’ itself, cool cool, very good evidence there.
There’s also three screenshots from books that aren’t even specifically named, so impossible to follow up. Clearly this is all we need.
Exhibit 11: Maps
The maps are the key think the Tartaria pushers use. All these maps showing ‘Grand Tartary’ or ‘Tartaria’ or what have you. There’s 20 of these here and you can look for yourselves, but the key thing is: why do these people assume that this referred to a single state entity? Because any of these maps that include the world more generally will also present large parts of Africa in generic terms, irrespective of actual political organisation in these regions. And many of the later maps clearly show the tripartite division of the region into ‘Chinese Tartary’, ‘Russian Tartary’, and ‘Independent Tartary’, which you think would be clear evidence that most of this region was controlled by, well, the Chinese (really, the Manchus) and the Russians. And many of these maps aren’t even maps of political organisation, but geographical space. See how many lump all of mainland Southeast Asia into ‘India’. Moreover, the poor quality of the mapping should give things away.
This one for instance is very clear on the Black Sea coast, but the Caspian is a blob, and moreover, a blob that’s elongated along the wrong axis! They’re using Western European maps as an indicator of Central Asian realities in the most inept way possible, and it would be sad if it weren’t so hilarious. The fact that the depictions of the size of Tartaria are incredibly inconsistent also seems not to matter.
Exhibit 12: The Tartarian Language
There’s an 1849 American newspaper article referring to the ‘Tartarian’ language, which is very useful thank you, and definitely not more reflective of American ignorance than actual linguistic reality.
The next one is more interesting, because it’s from a translation of some writing by a French Jesuit, referring to the writing of Manchu, and who asserted (with very little clear evidence) that it could be read in any direction. In April last year,
Tartaria users [claimed to have stumbled on a dictionary of Tartarian and French](np.reddit.com
/Tartaria/comments/bi3aph/tartarian_language_dictionary/) called the
Dictionnaire Tartare-Mantchou-François. What they failed to realise is that the French generally called the Manchus ‘Tartare-Mantchou’, and this was in fact a
Manchu-French dictionary. In other words, a [Tartare-Mantchou]-[François] dictionary, not a [Tartare]-[Mantchou]-[François] dictionary. It is quite plausible, in fact probable, that the ‘Tartarian’ referred to in the newspaper article was Manchu.
Exhibit 13: Genealogies of Tartarian Kings
Descended From Genghiscan
Reads the comment above
this French chart. How the actual hell did OP not recognise that ‘Genghiscan’ is, erm, Genghis Khan? Is it that hard to understand that maybe, just maybe, ‘Tartars’ was what they called Mongols back in the day, and ‘Tartaria’ the Mongol empire and its remnants?
Exhibit 14: Ethnographic drawings
These prove that there were people called Tartars, not that there was a state of Tartaria. NEXT
Exhibit 15: Tartaria’s alleged flag
Images they provide include
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/tartary_flags-11-jpg.37367/ https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/tartary_flag_6-jpg.37307/ Except there’s one problem. As any EU4 player will tell you, that’s the flag of the Khanate of Kazan. And while they can trot out a few 18th and 19th century charts showing the apparent existence of a Tartarian naval flag, the inconvenient fact that Tartaria would have been landlocked seems not to get in the way. To be sure, their consistent inclusion is odd, given the non-existence of Tartary as a country, and moreover its landlocked status. It seems plausible that the consistent similarity of the designs is just a result of constant copying and poor checking, but on its own it means relatively little.
Exhibit 16: 19th-century racism
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/flags_of_all_nations_1865-mongolian-1-jpg.37369/ That I think speaks for itself.
Exhibit 17: Flags of Moscow on one particular chart
It is also worth mentioning that in the British Flag Table of 1783, there are three different flags listed as a flag of the Tsar of Moscow. There is also an Imperial Flag of Russia as well as multiple naval flags. And all of them are proceeded by a flag of the Viceroy of Russia.
By that logic, the Royal Navy ran Britain because the Royal Navy ensigns precede the Union Jack. It’s simply a conscious decision to show the flags of individuals before the flags of states. The ‘Viceroy’ (unsure what the original Russian title would be) and ‘Czar’ of Muscovy would presumably be, well, the Emperor of Russia anyway, so as with the British section where the Royal Standard and the flags of naval officers came first, the same seems true of Russia. Also, as a side note, the placement of the USA at the end, after the Persians, the Mughals and ‘Tartarians’, is a fun touch.
Significance of the Viceroy is in the definition of the term. A viceroy is a regal official who runs a country, colony, city, province, or sub-national state, in the name of and as the representative of the monarch of the territory. Our official history will probably say that it was the Tsar of Russia who would appoint a viceroy of Moscow. I have reasons to doubt that.
Why is the flag of the Viceroy of Moscow positioned prior to any other Russian flag? Could it be that the Viceroy of Moscow was superior to its Czar, and was "supervising" how this Tartarian possession was being run?
No.
Part 3: 1812
This, this is where it gets
really bonkers. A key part of this post is arguing that Napoleon’s invasion of Russia was a cover story for a joint invasion against Tartaria gone horrendously wrong. All the stops are being pulled out here.
There is a growing opinion in Russia that French invasion of Russia played out according to a different scenario. The one where Tsar Alexander I, and Napoleon were on the same side. Together they fought against Tartary. Essentially France and Saint Petersburg against Moscow (Tartary). And there is a strong circumstantial evidence to support such a theory.
Oh yes, we’re going there.
Questions to Answer:
1. Saint Petersburg was the capitol of Russia. Yet Napoleon chose to attack Moscow. Why?
He didn’t,
he was trying to attack the Russian army. (credit to
dandan_noodles).
2. It appears that in 1912 there was a totally different recollection of the events of 1812. How else could you explain commemorative 1912 medals honoring Napoleon?
Because it’s a bit of an in-your-face to Napoleon for losing so badly?
And specifically the one with Alexander I, and Napoleon on the same medal. The below medal says something similar to, "Strength is in the unity: will of God, firmness of royalty, love for homeland and people"
Yeah, it’s showing Alexander I beating Napoleon, and a triumphant double-headed Russian eagle above captured French standards. Also, notice how Alexander is in full regalia, while Napoleon’s is covered up by his greatcoat?
3. Similarity between Russian and French uniforms. There are more different uniforms involved, but the idea remains, they were ridiculously similar.
Ah yes, because fashions in different countries always develop separately, and never get influenced by each other.
How did they fight each other in the dark?
With difficulty, presumably.
Basically, he’s saying that this:
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/1_rus-jpg.37322/ Is too similar to this:
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/1_rus-jpg.37322/ To be coincidental.
OK, whatever. Here’s where it gets interesting:
There was one additional combat asset officially available to Russians in the war of 1812. And that was the Militia. It does appear that this so-called Militia, was in reality the army of Tartary fighting against Napoleon and Alexander I.
Russian VolunteeMilitia Units... Tartarians? Clearly this man has never encountered the concept of a cossack, an
opelchenie, or, erm, a GREATCOAT.
4. Russian nobility in Saint Petersburg spoke French well into the second half of the 19th century. The general explanation was, that it was the trend of time and fashion. Google contains multiple opinions on the matter. * Following the same logic, USA, Britain and Russia should've picked up German after the victory in WW2.
Clearly never heard of the term
lingua franca then.
5. This one I just ran into: 19th-century fans were totally into a Napoleon/Alexander romance
https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/treaties_of_tilsit_miniature_-france-_1810s-_side_a-jpg.37314/ https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/napoleonxalexander2-jpg.37310/ https://web.archive.org/web/20200701065421im_/https://www.stolenhistory.org/attachments/napoleon-alexander-jpg.37312/ It is true that after the Treaty of Tilsit, Napoleon wrote to his wife, Josephine, that
I am pleased with [Emperor] Alexander; he ought to be with me. If he were a woman, I think I should make him my mistress.
But Napoleon’s ‘honeymoon period’ with Russia following the Treaty of Tilsit should not be seen as indicative of a permanent Napoleonic affection for Russia. Notably, Napoleon’s war with Russia didn’t just end in 1812. How are the Tartaria conspiracists going to explain the War of the Sixth Coalition, when Russian, Prussian and Austrian troops drove the French out of Germany? Did the bromance suddenly stop because of 1812? Or, is it more reasonable to see 1812 as the end result of the bromance falling apart?
Conclusions
So there you have it, Tartaria in all its glorious nonsensicalness. Words cannot capture how massively bonkers this entire thing is. And best of all, I hardly needed my own sources because so much of it is just a demonstration of terrible reading comprehension. Still, if you want to
actually learn about some of the history of Inner Eurasia, see below:
Bibliography
- The Cambridge History of Inner Asia – 2 volumes so far, covering up to 1886. Not really a single contiguous narrative, as each chapter has its own individual author, but a good general coverage.
- Scott C. Levi, The Bukharan Crisis: A Connected History of 18th Century Central Asia (2020) – A book about actual Central Asian history, focussing on the global and local factors that led to the weakening and collapse of the Chinggisid state in Bukhara and the rise of the Uzbek-led Emirate. Also a very good historiographical examination of lay understandings of the period.
- Mark C. Elliott, ‘The Limits of Tartary: Manchuria in Imperial and National Geographies’, The Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 59, No. 3 (2000) – A discussion of conceptions of Manchuria by Manchu, Chinese, Japanese and European cartographers and geographers, with the section on European geographers being important for getting at the ‘Tartary’ aspect.
- David Christian, ‘Inner Eurasia as a Unit of World History’, Journal of World History, Vol. 5, No. 2 (1994) – A somewhat older view, presenting Inner Eurasia as a distinct unit in world history, but largely in terms of effects on the rest of Eurasia.
- Nicola di Cosmo, ‘State Formation and Periodization in Inner Asian History’, Journal of World History, Vol.10, No.1 (1999) – A partial response to Christian, offering an alternate periodisation based more on the internal dynamics of nomadic state formations and stressing viewing Inner Asian history in terms of those internal dynamics, rather than relegating it to a subordinate place in the histories of ‘Outer Eurasian’, sedentary states.
- Konstantin Sheiko, ‘Lomonosov’s Bastards: Anatolii Fomenko, Pseudo-History and Russia’s Search for a Post-Communist Identity’ [PhD Thesis] (2004) – Specifically deconstructs Fomenko’s version of Tartaria.
Hello you!
So, because of the rumours that Series 13 of DW might be getting delayed up until 2022, I decided to maybe fill the Sci-Fi void with a FanSeries of some sorts. Simply some cooky impossible fan-fiction that takes place between the stories
The Timeless Children and the yet-unreleased
Revolution of the Daleks and can fit in it yet not have many consequences.
But, I did want to introduce an antagonist and arc for this FanSeries that challenged something that was established in the previous two Series (11 & 12). Something that challenges 13’s moral compass and also that of the audience with a hazy right and wrong. To do that, I went back to rewatch some episodes and see if I could find some dirt that 13 had perhaps racked up.
And... then I stumbled upon something in
Kerblam! I remember watching it, I enjoyed it and regard it to be the best episode of the entire Chibnall era so far, but back then I did have gripes with the third act of it. I think back then, I shrugged it off as me not liking the twist that one character we assumed was on the side of good was actually the antagonist.
But... looking back on it, something much more twisted is seriously scaring me. Something in regards of
the way that 13’s problem solving might be framed. Here’s a quick summary of the story: In the story
Kerblam!, our main TARDIS Crew are spooked when 13 receive a creepy cry for help in the late package of her new fez.
Curious and concerned as to who might be on the short end of set message, they decide to head to one of the packaging company facilities on the planet Kandoka from which it was initially send but infiltrate it to get a good look behind the scenes.
They get informed that in humanity’s future silver space age, 90% of the work force that requires elements of physical labour would be automated and replaced with cheap robotic “Teammates”. 10% of “organic worker” labour is still protected by various laws, but it’s still an incredibly low percentage. They wear ankle bracelet like devices as if they were prisoners of their work environment, and don’t seem to complain since it could cost them their job.
The Crew soon finds out that organic workers are disappearing from the work floor, often accompanied by robots. Companion Graham soon meets a young red-headed organic worker by the name of Charlie Duffy, who’s a cleaner at the facility but seems way smarter and has far more potential than that his position at the
Kerb!am company might try to tell you. Charlie becomes a temporary addition to the TARDIS Crew, then nearly gets smashed and choked to death by the
Kerb!am system trying to take him out.
They discover that the robots have been taking individuals to faraway sealed rooms, deep inside the facility, and have them test out a sort of experimental bubble wrap that combusts in a chain reaction when popped. One organic worker named Kira Arlo does so, a girl that seemed rather important to Charlie as he begged her behind soundproof and one-way glass to not pop it.
[SPOILERS!] [DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN “KERBLAM!” OR WISH TO ENJOY IT AS IT CURRENTLY IS!] It’s revealed that the system... wasn’t “exactly” the problem. Instead, it’s been seriously taken advantage of by a third party to stage an attack and turn the outside public against the company’s automations and—perhaps—in turn question those of other companies as well. All in the brave, yet misguided, hopes of bringing down the percentage of robotic workers so organic workers can begin to take their place again.
Orchestrated by none other than organic worker Charlie Duffy.
This is where my first viewing began to sour a tad. Charlie reveals that he’s been commanding robots to take organic workers off’ve the work floor and test the bubblewrap. He’s also stored a bunch of overdue delivery robots in one of the warehouses, and given them all packages with the combustible bubblewrap. He plans to send all of these bots out, all at once, and make an example out of
Kerb!am’s customer base by sowing terror in their own homes. Essentially using a lie and the lives of others to make a statement, not much different from a covert suicide bomber.
I bet many would describe the TARDIS Crew’s objections to sound like talking him down from the edge of extremism... but, honestly?
I thought as though they were all purposely belittling him and trying to push him off’ve the edge. Fortunately, 13 had previously gotten her hands on a broken piece of tech that’s able to receive commands to the robots. The same one that also send her the help-me message.
She firstly commands that every delivery robot changes their delivery address to the very warehouse they’re currently standing in.
Secondly, she commands the robots to deliver to themselves instead of their overdue customers.
Thirdly, actually merged partially into secondly...
. . .
... she orders the delivery robots to
pop the bubblewrap?! And this is where my latest viewing absolutely scared me. 13 “offers” her last, last, last chance to Charlie, who seems absolutely bewildered and confused as to what she’s commanded the robots to do. Her offer was only that of a few seconds though, and teleported out not soon after.
Leaving the misguided Charlie to die all alone in a fiery death... Ironically, it turns out that Charlie’s threat of terrorism has actually changed the upper management’s mindset on organic workers. Seeing as though they haven’t got many robots left over after he blew them all up, and most likely not wanting to have any rumours spread as to Charlie’s misguided attempts at activism via terrorism, might as well just teleport some people instead.
The TARDIS Crew leaves, and there ends the story. Now, you might have already noticed it... but I am rather terrified as to 13’s actions in the third act.
I know that Charlie got blood on his hands—heck, he’s most likely the one that scraped all of the dead organic workers’ bloody bits off’ve the floor, walls and ceiling with his previous inferior test runs of the bubblewrap.
But blowing him up doesn’t make 13 the better person. In fact, I believe that she should’ve added him to the teleport against his will and beamed him out of there. No matter how much he craved for self-sacrifice.
And I keep being reminded of the still-ambiguous
Three Laws of Robotics:
1: “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.”
This might seem strange, but when the power was redirected into a nearby robot, the system clearly tried to dent Charlie’s skull and turn his face purple via strangulation. Even if he’s a trespasser in the
Kerb!am system, it shouldn’t have been able or allowed to exact physical harm upon Charlie via it’s own free will. Unlike the times that Charlie ordered robots to take organic workers to their death, the system was briefly free to do anything it might’ve not been allowed to do via Charlie’s control. Meaning that
Kerb!am is very much housing an AI that can harm others with the intent to kill if it feels like it.
All it needed to do was point at Charlie and sing some electronic truths about it being his fault, since one of the higher-up’s was in the same room discussing who’s responsible for the “help me” message and where organic workers were going. Had it proven itself by being peaceful, it wouldn’t have soured it’s own credibility with 13’s theory of the system going rogue.
I could handwave the system attacking Charlie as him having disabled some of the laws so that it’s possible for the system to kill. But... honestly, that doesn’t make me feel any less scared of this system if it’s still so eager to end his life. Even when Charlie’s control is briefly taken away and the system gets to do whatever it wants like it used to on a small scale.
Plus, if the system can briefly regain control in a limited area, why not do so and write out some sort of breach report? By not doing this, the
Kerb!am system is staying inactive and under Charlie’s thumb. Every organic worker that goes into the back doesn’t return, and it knows. But they all wear those high-tech ankle bracelets. Were it to compile a report of all the missing individuals’ last whereabouts, all security breaches, and report Charlie’s meddling, sending it to the higher-up’s in that frame of freedom could’ve prevented a ton of deaths that still happened.
The least it could try to do is to DDOS itself. Break itself beyond repair, and get the attention of organic expert programmers or automated programs to do the reporting for itself. It would both be taken under the loop and serious security weaknesses could be treated so that Charlie loses his main asset.
2: “A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.”
Charlie’s way of activism was clearly costing the lives of many test individuals, and poses a threat to the entire customer base of
Kerb!am. It’s sentience realized this and send 13 the plea for help. I could handwave the fact that Charlie maybe disabled this law in it’s systems so that it would follow these killing instructions.
But this also applies to 13’s command of detonation. Since Charlie is an organic worker, his life should have value over the command as it would kill him.
3: “A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.”
The system was attacked and changed by Charlie, yes. Protecting itself from being abused would be a high priority.
... but it kind of didn’t.
It still send a one-off “help me” to 13 instead of
Kerb!am itself. It didn’t sound any other bells or whistles. It didn’t leave behind any reports and it didn’t deny any of Charlie’s deadly commands.
Furthermore, it tried to “protect” itself by trying to kill Charlie in person
twice, which heavily conflicts with the first law.
Suffice to say that Kerb!am better have it’s system checked and rewritten from the ground up, in case it does feel like beating other organic creatures up.
Because if it wasn’t dangerous back then, it certainly is now thanks to Charlie’s meddling. In my eyes, both Charlie and the
Kerb!am company should’ve been detained and send to a court of law. Both were very much getting workers killed, Charlie directly and the
Kerb!am system owned by the
Kerb!am company as an accomplice no matter how much of a victim it was to Charlie. Both endanger their workers, and both need some serious re-evaluation.
But... I also believe that Charlie could’ve been talked out of his attempted terrorism by 13. Going back a few minutes before the send-out command was given to the delivery robots, Charlie confessed his deeds to the full TARDIS Crew and to 13 herself. He had a really nice speech about how organics are going to be at the mercy of automation. I think he would make for a good protester in his time. Well, were it not for the murders and the prepped terrorist attack.
But... 13 really mixed up “talking someone down from making a reckless decision” with “belittling and confusing someone who’s about to go over the edge and fueling their misguided beliefs.”
Let me show you how I viewed the dialogue that passed between Charlie and the TARDIS Crew.
YASMIN: Doctor, we've found you.
RYAN: Kira's dead, and Charlie had something to do with it.
JUDY: What?
CHARLIE: Not Kira. It wasn't meant for her. The System took her. It's been fighting back against me.
(Charlie is holding up a circular device, presumably a trigger mechanism of some sort.)
DOCTOR: Because it knew what you were planning. The maintenance man. Access to everywhere, noticed by hardly anyone.
This is not off to a good start. Throwing accusations around at an emotionally unstable someone holding you and many others like the rest of the Crew and the unknowing customers hostage is certainly not doing you any favours.
JUDY: You've been killing other workers?!
The fact that there are a bunch of other individuals around, eager to ask a lot of questions and possibly verbally attack Charlie is not helping to calm the current situation down. Either everyone but 13 leaves the warehouse and get to safety, of everyone stays quiet so 13 can attempt to barter with him in a calm and collected manner.
CHARLIE: I needed test subjects to be sure the detonation force would work in such a small concentration.
JUDY: What?! Charlie, how do you know all this stuff?!
13 should be really considering asking the others to stay quiet now.
CHARLIE: I lied on my application. Gave you a sob story, so you'd let me in, and you bought it. I've studied cybernetics, explosives, teleportation. I have worked for this.
Charlie drops that he very much does know what he’s doing and what it might cost him.
JUDY: I don't understand...
13’s really not considering asking for some peace and quiet...
CHARLIE: Ten percent? They want us to be grateful that ten percent of people get to work? What about the other ninety percent? What about our futures? Because without action, next time it will be seven percent, then five, then one. I am stronger than you. I am not going to stand by and accept it. People like me, my generation, we change things. We make things happen.
Charlie really sounds to be seriously rooted in his call for activism. And he has got a point, basically trying to prevent the
Roko’s Basilisk thought experiment from going into full swing. Like Sarah Connor, Kyle Reese, John Connor and the T-101 trying to prevent Judgement Day in the early
Terminator films. Only, Charlie is taking a very radical approach. My suggestion would be to try and say that they understand him, though that they could also help him protest with much more effective and less deadly methods. Mention Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King, since we had that in a past episode. And sell him on peaceful protesting that got Ghandi so far in his attempts at activism. And that you’ll support his cause as long as he doesn’t give it a bad name. Laying down the activation device would be a step into a brighter future.
DOCTOR: Even if it costs people's lives. You kill a load of customers at Kerblam, let the systems take the fall for it, erode people's trust in automation, make people angry.
Do not guilttrip an emotional individual holding your fate and that of countless others in your hand. He very much knows that the combustible bubblewrap kills, he’s tested it out on others himself. Reminding him that he’ll be a horrible mass-murderer yet that it’ll help get automation put under the loop conflicts in extremes.
CHARLIE: Imperfect technology, without a conscience. Machines malfunction, that's what they do.
Such as the
Kerb!am system, faulty and full of holes, from the previous analysis.
GRAHAM: No, mate, that's what you're doing! Seriously malfunctioning!
Graham seriously shouldn’t be bothering with the current conversation, as it really doesn’t regard him in the slightest. His “malfunctioning” hot take easily comes over as a personal attack, which doesn’t do a triggerhappy activist any good. 13 really should’ve set aside the Crew entire paragraphs ago.
CHARLIE: I'm not your mate!
Like I predicted, it had a negative impact on him.
DOCTOR: Except Kerblam's System does have a conscience. It's been fighting you, Charlie. It knew it. It sent a message across the galaxy, begging for help. That TeamMate in Slade's office, it was coming for you. And then Kira. It took her, knowing how you felt about her, to show you how it would feel. Because how you feel right now about Kira is how all those families and friends will feel if your plan goes off.
Kerb!am’s system is extremely faulty, and it’s consciousness isn’t afraid to try and kill anyone opposing it with a firm metal hand. Especially the paranoid Charlie in question. Reminding him about his dead loved one, sacrificed by the system to get at him, would’ve been better if they were still alive and happy. Mentioning his own alive friends or family would do him better as well. But yet again, guilttripping him does not make for a better situation.
CHARLIE: I don't care—!
DOCTOR: I think you do. I think you came here with a plan, but you didn't expect to fall in love. But that's what happens. Use it, Charlie, learn from it, please.
I’d say that reminding a heartbroken young man that the system is indeed broken enough to purposely pick someone you loved to go is not going to alter his perspective. His love is dead by a system that has tried to kill him before. And seeing Kira die was one of the motivating factors for him to threaten to send out the delivery robots. Seriously, do not use her as a reason to talk him down from sending those delivery robots out.
CHARLIE: No! No. If that's the price to change how everyone on Kandoka sees technology, then it is worth it, for the cause!
Thanks to constantly singling him out, he’s now fully not listening anymore.
DOCTOR: This isn't a cause. You're not an activist. This is cold-blooded murder.
Definitely not an attempt at trying to talk him down. It’s comparable to telling someone suicidal who’s about to jump that jumping from such a height is suicidal and it means that they’re a coward if they go through with it. It’s not something you dare say when someone’s playing with lives.
CHARLIE: We can't let the systems take control!
Another confirmation of siding with his cause.
DOCTOR: The systems aren't the problem. How people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. People like you.
I have real gripes with this line. The lack of the
Three Laws of Robotics, it’s poor security, it’s poor alerting, it’s poorly formulated attempts at saving others by trying to kill Charlie or killing innocents close to him like Kira... the
Kerb!am system is better off being discarded. If someone can exploit it, then suffice to say that set system needs to be fixed instead of the people around it.
CHARLIE: I don't care what you think. The delivery goes ahead.
(Charlie activates his device and the Delivery Bots come online.)
DELIVERY BOTS: Mass delivery procedures initiating.
There ends the transcript. 13’s way of trying to talk Charlie down didn’t appeal to me at all. Especially not in the context of the stances she took against her enemies back when she was 1 in
The War Machines or 3 in
The Green Death.
If there’s someone who knows about effective protesting, supporting the underdog and helping others better themselves, it would be the Doctor.
But 13 really doesn’t seem to show that she does in
Kerblam! considering how she deals with Charlie. And surely, she didn’t have to order the delivery bots to self-destruct whilst Charlie was still around, right?
As a matter of fact... isn’t her command of blowing them all up in the warehouse actually destroying any possible evidence that could later be used in court?
It really made me look differently at 13 as a character. Anyhow, those were my
Kerblam! observations! What do you think about her use of logic and her approach to solving the problems of the
Kerb!am company? Are you also a tad scared about what happened, or do you see it in a better light from a different perspective?
See ya!
Nite Yuki laid in bed with Serren, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. She turned to Serren and quietly rolled out of bed, slowly moving so as not to wake him.
Silently, Yuki padded out of the bedroom and stopped dead once she reached the kitchen, finding Rezzolina out near the railings of the balcony.
Rezzolina was wearing a simple shirt and a pair of loose-fitting and worn shorts. A light robe fluttered in the breeze which wafted in through the open balcony doors. Rezzolina had her back to Yuki, facing the night sky.
Yuki hoped she hadn’t been discovered. She turned just as Rezzolina called to her.
“Even if I couldn’t feel you, Yuki,” Rezzolina turned to Yuki as she inhaled the end of a small cigarette, blowing out a cloud of blue luminescent smoke from her nostrils, “I’d hear your clumsy footsteps in
my home.”
Yuki sighed, “hi, Rezzolina.”
Rezzolina turned back to look out over the balcony, “sneaking out, are you?”
Yuki walked towards the balcony, stepping out into the warm humid air and moving to the railing, “Just wanted to look around.”
Rezzolina gave a nod, inhaling another drag from her cigarette and exhaling more plumes of colorful light blue luminescent smoke. “Do you smoke?” Rezzolina offered a pack of blue cigarettes.
Yuki smiled, shaking her head, “no. Bad habit to have on a spaceship.”
Rezzolina nodded, inhaling again, “disgusting habit, to be honest,” she exhaled once more through her nostrils.
“Then why do it?” Yuki asked.
“Stress,” Rezzolina said, taking another inhale and looking upwards towards the sky.
Yuki looked up towards the Niten sky as well, smiling at the familiar sight of an evening sky framed by skyscrapers. “I like to come out to
my balcony and look at the stars back on Dei.”
“It’s relaxing,” Rezzolina turned to Yuki, “So, what do you love about my brother?”
Yuki smiled, looking up, “he’s got a very compassionate heart,” her smile weakened, “and yet it’s so wounded.”
Rezzolina nodded, “Allia really did a number on him.”
Yuki turned to Rezzolina once more, “oh?”
Rezzolina nodded, “refused to have children for the first few years. Not really something most couples do,” she took another inhale. “I thought she was a little selfish, at least towards Serren.”
“I didn’t think an empathetic race could be selfish,” Yuki chuckled, “are you all connected?”
“Yes, in chains,” Rezzolina inhaled again, now blowing the smoke out between her lips through the end of her snout in a single stream of pulsing blue smoke. “Allia’s chain was attached strongly to her purpose, her job,” Rezzolina leaned against the railings a little more as lights twinkled in the air and across the glass of the large buildings.
“So she was focused on her hunting?” Yuki asked.
“She was,” Rezzolina extinguished her cigarette, “it consumed her. It was all she cared about. Not that it’s bad to care about your profession but…” Rezzolina trailed off.
Yuki laughed, “you shared that trait with her?”
“I did,” Rezzolina nodded, turning to Yuki, “But I also don’t do anything so selfish as taking a mate when I know I do not have the time to give them.”
“The time?” Yuki asked.
Rezzolina smiled, “I barely have time to see my brother when he stops by for the first time in years. Do you really think I have the time to dedicate to a mate?”
“I guess not,” Yuki sighed.
“It’s lonely, at times,” Rezzolina stood up, stretching, “but I get respect at work, luxurious accommodations for the stressful work environment, and the knowledge that thanks to
my efforts, the people of Nite don’t go hungry and can sleep soundly,” as Rezzolina spoke, her smile widened, looking up towards a large building across the street from her own.
Yuki smiled, “To me, I’m just looking for minerals to sell to feed my own family, I can’t imagine working hard to feed others.”
Rezzolina’s smile faded, “and that, Yuki, is why Dei is a primitive wasteland,” she turned to her, “and why
you’re staying here.”
“But, can’t you reconsider?” Yuki pleaded.
Rezzolina shook her head, “No,” she stated as she walked back inside, “I cannot.”
Yuki sighed, “Rezzolina-”
“Good night, Yuki,” Rezzolina said as she passed her kitchen. “There’s some evening tea bags in the cupboard if you need some help sleeping.”
Yuki heaved a sigh and took a seat on a large chair on the balcony. She looked out over the city and could hear traffic down below and the occasional shouts and noises of the large city. She closed her eyes as the white noise relaxed her.
Yuki got up and returned to bed, shutting the balcony doors before she crawled back into bed with Serren.
“I guess that’s that. I can’t see Geoffrey,” she frowned, cuddling up against Serren, her eyes watering.
“That can’t be it, can it?” she sighed, closing her eyes. Falling into a heavy sleep.
… A fog-filled field greeted Yuki and she seemed to be all alone. Out in the distance, there was a scratching noise. Almost like metal scraping against metal.
As Yuki moved towards it, she felt as if she were floating.
A red Nite sat clad in white robes, gently tinkering with a small object. He seemed very young.
“Serren?” Yuki asked softly.
The young Nite turned his head to Yuki and gave her a warm smile, “He's at work.”
Yuki frowned, the boy looked familiar. “Oh. Who are you?”
The young Nite laughed and went back to his tinkering, “You must not have gotten much sleep last night again, mother.”
Yuki just frowned and sat next to him, “My dreams are getting troubled it seems.”
The boy looked at her and frowned, “It’s probably due to your acclimation. From when you used to be a normal Dei Angel. The Doctor told you not to worry about those weird
visions.”
“Used to be?” Yuki asked, looking to the young Nite. “What do you mean, used to be?” she reached out to touch him, but when her hand crossed her vision, she noticed it had bluish claws at the end. She examined her hand curiously, confused as to why her fingers were tipped with claws.
She then looked to her wings. Blue Niten wings! She turned and found a short and slender tail behind her. “Oh, my Guardian...”
The young boy looked very concerned. “IS there something wrong, mom? Are you all right?”
Yuki went pale, “Wh-What did you call me?” She said, her mouth agape.
No! It can't be possible, can it...? The young boy frowned, “I said 'mom'... is something wrong? Should I call the doctor?”
“N-No!” she gasped, “No, no... I'm... I'm fine.” she closed her eyes. “Mommy's fine.”
The young Nite placed his hand on hers. “I know what you saw in your dreams is troubling you mother... but I promise nothing like that can happen – The Guardians would not allow it.”
Yuki looked at him, “The Guardians?”
The boy nodded, “And you can trust me, I’m the Scribe Lord, Mother.” he said with a bit of pride. “I’ll make sure to protect us all, in the name of The Guardians!”
He must have gotten that pride from me... unless he's a hunter... what's a Scribe Lord? The world began to fade to darkness as the fog thickened, the only thing that remained was the boy’s shimmering blue eyes,
her eyes. The world was plunged into complete darkness.
...
Yuki sat up, gasping, confused, and in Serren’s arms.
“Shhh, just a dream my love,” Serren whispered.
“Oh, Serren!” Yuki grabbed hold of him, burying her face in his chest, “I keep having dreams of my son! I have to bring him here!”
“But how?” Serren whispered, “Rezzolina won’t allow it.”
Yuki grinned, “there’s more than one way onto a ship.”
…
Dei A heavy base beat thumps in a dark room as a number of imps and angel men alike cheer and shout at a stage with a number of chrome poles running from the stage to the ceiling.
An angel woman in nothing but a thong gyrates and thrusts along the pole, her dark wings catch the light from time to time, sending fractals of light bouncing through the humid club air as she twists, spins, and flips around the pole.
In the VIP room, towards the back of the club, surrounded by a pair of strippers and several off-duty cops, Palma finished inhaling a line of powder off the table.
He shouts excitedly and thumps his chest, “Yeah! That’s the
shit!” he cries as he pulls one of the girls tight against him.
She winces at his tight grip.
“You wanna come home with me babe?” Palma grins at the girl getting especially close.
She beams to him, “Sure daddy, as long as you can keep up,” she winked at him.
Palma pulled several large bills marked ‘100 Lumens’ each out of his pocket and placed them in his mouth, as he leaned over the girl.
She bit the bills out of his mouth and grinned up to him, stuffing them in her ample cleavage.
Palma got up and let loose another scream, his heart hammering in his ears as the drugs in his system fueled his evening activities.
The night continues with more lines of his new preferred drug, even sharing with his newly met lady friend.
Before he knew what was happening, he was in a hotel room. Palma and his new acquaintance both cried out in ecstasy, sweat drenched the pair as the drug surged through their veins, fueling frantic lovemaking.
After that, Palma blacked out and awoke staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room, his head pounding and his mouth and throat dry and his ears ringing.
He rolled off the bed, stumbling to the bathroom where he finally managed to pull himself up to the sink and get a drink directly from the tap.
His phone was buzzing, loudly. Far too loud.
He took another swallow of water, leaving the tap open, as he staggered his way to his jacket, which had landed somewhere on the floor of the hotel room.
Palma picked up the phone and found he missed the call.
He had missed 35 calls, to be exact.
The phone rang once more and Palma winced as he saw the number.
He cleared his throat, and answered as best he could, his voice cracking slightly as answered, “Y-Yes, So-orjoy?” He managed to sputter.
“By the Guardian wherein Oblivion have you been?” Sorjoy barked over the phone.
Palma looked around the room,
“That’s a great question, I’m wondering that myself,” Palma thought. He didn’t recognize the hotel. It wasn’t cheap, sure, but he wasn’t familiar with it. “Uh… busy?” he stammered.
“Busy?!” Sorjoy growled, “You work for
me, Palma! Don’t forget that fact!”
Palma took a deep breath and rubbed his head with his free hand, “yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck are you? I need you here
yesterday!” Sorjoy screamed into the phone.
“Yeah, yeah,” Palma grumbled, getting to his feet and staggering to the bathroom to get another few gulps of water.
“Don’t you ‘yeah yeah’ me, Palma! I will hang you out to dry!” Sorjoy threatened.
Palma grumbled to himself, finally sneering to the phone, “Sorry,
sir.”
“Daddy…” the young buxom woman cried softly from the bed, her head in her hands, “oh… Guardian… I-I don’t…” she fell to her knees and vomited.
“Fuck…” Palma grumbled as the girl unloaded her stomach contents on the floor. Palma spotted the remains of pills in the mix of her excess.
“I-I don’t… feel… too good… I-I…” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as she wiped the vomit from her lips.
“Palma, where the fuck are you?!” Sorjoy screamed on the phone.
Palma splashed some water on his face from the sink, and cleared his throat, “What do you need, Mr. Sorjoy?”
“Finally,” Sorjoy relented, “I need you to get an escort for the delivery of the Heart of Lucifer to Mr. Trueman’s estate.”
“A private company can’t do that?” Palma protested.
“If I
wanted a private security company to do it,” Sorjoy fumed, “then I wouldn’t have a need for
you in my back pocket, now would I?!”
Palma flinched at the volume coming from the phone.
“Now be a good pet,” Sorjoy growled, “and
heel!” the line went dead.
Palma closed his eyes tightly and gave a powerful exhale through his nostrils, trying to clear his head, “fuck that shit hit me hard.”
“I-I gotta go to a doctor…” the feeble angel kneeling before him sobbed, “I feel like my head is going to explode…”
Palma walked to his clothing strewn about all over the floor and collected it, dressing as swiftly as he could. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a few bills, “go to the hospital and if you talk about this? I’ll find you and gut you myself,” he tossed the girl several large bills, “go get fixed up.”
The young woman whimpered as the bills fell to the ground, a few landing in her own sick, “b-but I… I think I’m dying…”
“Then do me a favor and do it somewhere away from me,” Palma stated, turning on his heel and rushing out of the hotel.
…
Cleo sat at her desk while Sorjoy paced back and forth in front of his office door.
“Sir,” Cleo began, “would you like me to have someone install hardwood in front of your office?”
Sorjoy glared at her, “Why would I want that, Cleo?”
“Because you’re going to wear out the carpet with that pacing,” Cleo said, jokingly.
“This is no joking matter,” Sorjoy hissed as he continued to pace, “Trueman is expecting the gem today and I’m not going to risk something so valuable being transported by anyone other than the police.”
“Because they
can’t be corrupt,” Cleo sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.
Sorjoy chuckled, “when they are
my corrupt cops, it doesn’t matter. They know not to bite the hand that feeds them.”
Cleo gave a nod. Sorjoy had been opening up to her lately regarding how much power he had. She was unsure why he was doing this. Posturing? To instill fear in her?
Whatever his reasons, Cleo had not felt that they were affecting her in the ways that Sorjoy desired.
Cleo’s phone rang and she answered quickly, “Erik Sorjoy’s office.”
“Chief Palma told us to help escort the Diamond. Said he would be waiting at Trueman’s office. We have several officers at your HQ,” the officer stated.
“Thank you so much,” Cleo turned to Sorjoy, “we’ll join you. Please come around back to the loading bay, we’ll be leaving from there.”
Sorjoy turned to Cleo, “Good news?”
“Our police escorts are here,” Cleo informed Sorjoy.
“Good,” Sorjoy heaved a sigh, he made his way towards the elevator, “let's hope no one tries anything stupid.”
…
Several officers flew around the back of the large Fondsworth building, all surrounding a pair of black limousines.
Naberious cleared his throat as a few of the officers landed near him. He tipped his hat to a few of them as they approached.
The second limo was in front of Naberious’s, the other driver looked far more nervous than Naberious.
One officer approached the second driver, “you got clearance for this?” his badge read “Officer Grant”
“What?” The driver squeaked.
“ID, asshole,” Officer Grant said, pushing the driver’s shoulder.
The driver flinched and pulled out an ID card, handing it over, “I’m a professional transporter! Shit man.”
Officer Grant looked over his ID, “Bade Trenner?”
Bade nodded.
Officer Grant swiped the ID through a small card reader, looking it over.
Bade hemmed and hawed.
Naberious kept his eyes forward as the officers paid him no mind.
Officer Grant grinned, looking to Bade, “Hey, asshole, wanna take a guess as to what I just found?”
Bade gasped, “I can explain-”
Officer Grant punched Bade across the face, then pulled him out of the limo as another officer pounced on him, forcing him to the ground. “Take him in for questioning!”
Bade shouted in protest as he was carted off by a pair of officers. Officer Grant chuckled, “who can drive one of these?” he asked his fellow officers.
A young eager to please officer volunteered and climbed into the limo.
Officer Grant now moved towards Naberious, approaching him menacingly.
Naberious pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag and blowing the smoke away from Officer Grant.
“Hey, you!” Officer Grant said as he approached Naberious.
“Yeah?” Naberious asked calmly.
“Mind if I bum one of those off of you?” Officer Grant asked.
“Knock yourself out,” Naberious offered the pack of cigarettes to the officer, who took one gladly.
“Have you ever worked with that guy before?” Officer Grant asked.
Naberious shook his head, lighting the officer’s cigarette for him, “Can’t say I have. He’s new. He was supposed to be the lead car. The armored truck is getting loaded in the loading dock. Once you boys give the okay, the big boss comes down and we make our way to wherever it is we’re going.”
“They haven’t told you yet?” Officer Grant asked, taking a drag.
“Man, they don’t tell me
shit,” he grinned to Officer Grant.
The pair laughed.
Officer Grant’s radio soon squawked to life, “Address enroute, heading to 1000 Prestige Lane,” Palma’s voice called out.
Officer Grant nodded.
“Never heard of that address,” Naberious noted.
“It’s a code,” Officer Grant smiled, “VIP estate. We gotta verify now with dispatch on a secure line.”
“VIP, coming in hot,” an officer shouted as Cleo and Sorjoy walked out of a small door to the left of the loading dock.
Cleo grimaced at the uneven concrete in front of her, taking mincing steps in her heels as she moved gingerly towards the limo. She steadied herself on the back of the limo, looking to the lead car, her brow furrowing as she saw an officer sitting in the opened driver side door.
“Where’s Bade?” Cleo asked.
“Who is Bade?” Sorjoy countered.
“He’s the other transporter I commissioned for the lead car,” Cleo explained as Naberious assisted her towards the limousine door.
“Why did you commission a transporter? We have Naberious,” Sorjoy questioned, “granted we are not tight on funds.”
“Because,” Cleo explained, “the lead car is a dummy car.”
Sorjoy gave a slight nod of approval as he slid inside the limo, “well thought out, Ms.Walters.”
Naberious leaned into the back of the limousine, “Bade acted nervous around the officers and they arrested him.”
“For acting nervous?” Sorjoy frowned.
“He was a fully vetted transporter!” Cleo complained, “I hired him myself!”
Naberious shrugged, “you act suspicious around some cops, they’ll take you in until they find something,
anything, to hold you.”
Sorjoy chuckled, “I’m sure your transporter will be fine, assuming he’s done nothing wrong.”
Naberious grinned, “I saw the scan, his ID checked out and he had no priors. Cop baited him and he fell for it. The only thing that kid is guilty of is being green.”
Sorjoy nodded, “well then I am glad he’s no longer working on this project.”
Cleo sighed, “he was just the dummy car, sir.”
“Noted, but do fire him, Cleo,” Sorjoy smiled, leaning back in the limo.
“Yessir,” Cleo said, tapping on her tablet.
Naberious closed the door and got into the driver's seat.
Soon a pair of large armored trucks rolled out of the loading bay.
The first truck passed the limousines, while the second stopped long enough to allow both limousines to travel in between.
“Well, I must say,” Sorjoy smiled, “I do feel rather safe.”
Cleo nodded.
Outside of the limousine, three police officers per armored vehicle stood on top of the large trucks.
As the caravan made its way down the street, the officers held on to the roof with handles and quick release straps. The officers each carried with them heavy assault rifles.
After a few minutes, a voice shouted from a side street: “Cerberus comes for you!” a large bottle filled with gasoline crashed against the first armored car.
Naberious spotted the flames on the first car and shouted “Shit!” He quickly took a right while the front limousine took a left, each of them heading down the wrong road. Eggs pelted the windows and sides of Sorjoy’s limousine.
“Problem?” Sorjoy asked as Naberious turned the limo.
“Someone just tossed an incendiary device at the lead armored car,” Naberious shifted the limousine into gear, and Cleo and Sorjoy were soon shoved into one another as the limousine picked up speed. “Hang on back there, getting us out of the hot zone!”
Cleo yelped as Sorjoy caught her.
Sorjoy looked down, realizing he was gripping Cleo’s hips tightly.
“Mr. Sorjoy!” Cleo narrowed her eyes on him.
Sorjoy released her, “you’re welcome,” he cleared his throat as he attempted to brush off the awkward grip.
Outside three of the police angels leaped off the top of the lead armored car and flew towards where the bottle was thrown from.
“Hands up!” an officer shouted to one angel wearing a dog mask.
The dog masked man held up his hands, “holy shit - I’m unarmed!”
“Good,” a second officer snickered, gunning the man down without any further warning.
Other angels in dog masks jumped out of side streets and alleyways.
The three officers soon opened fire, taking out another pair of angels and tagging another before they ceased fire.
“Three down, one tagged, flag the nearby hospitals, anyone comes in with gunshot wounds, make sure it’s reported,” Officer Grant shouted, “come on, let's collect the dogs,” he laughed.
A radio buzzed in Naberious’s car, “Disturbance has been quelled, follow the alternate route. Sending it to you now.”
Naberious took the radio up and slowed the limousine down, “got it.”
Cleo sighed, “well, thank the Guardian that’s over.”
Sorjoy nodded, “This is why you make sure you have cops you can trust.”
…
Palma sipped a coffee as he sat across from Bade. He was looking over a file, then glanced up to Bade as if it was the first time he had noticed him there, “oh, you need something to drink?”
“What am I being held for?” Bade swallowed hard.
Palma looked back to his file and took another calm sip, “you know what you’re here for.”
Bade went pale and began to sweat, “okay list-”
“Who put you up to it?” Palma said, looking at the paper still, “you’ve got no priors, so either you’re very good,” Palma looked up to Bade, “which is doubtful…”
Bade frowned, “Listen, I want a lawyer.”
“Oh, me too man,” Palma said, laying the paperwork down on the table, “me too. I bet I could get all kinds of compensation from the department from this fucking jobs. You know how many times I’ve been shot in the line of duty?” Palma shook his head.
Bade looked down at the table.
“A cop died today,” Palma lied.
“What?!” Bade looked up, shocked.
“Yep. Some fucking bastard in a dog mask threw a bottle filled with gas at an armored vehicle,” Palma shook his head, “poor bastard was burned alive in his gear.”
“I-I,” Bade stammered, sweating even more now.
“What a shitty way to go,” Palma shook his head, “I’d prefer some drug dealer just pop me in the back of the head, myself. One second I’m busting some imp prick for selling drugs to kids, the next second I’m shaking hands with the Guardian Lucifer.”
Bade looked away.
“So, Bade,” Palma said, finally looking at Bade, “who’s your contact?”
Bade was silent, “I was called onto the initial job with a legit contract. Low balled, sure, but it was just to drive the dummy car and I’ve got no experience so I figured: bite the bullet and take the shitty contract.”
“Mmhmm,” Palma nodded.
Bade heaved a sigh, “then some guy contacts me and says he can double my pay if I just make a right down a particular road instead of a left.”
“I’m listening and you’re doing well here, you are,” Palma grinned.
“That’s it,” Bade admitted.
“That’s it?” Palma said, standing up. “You sure?”
Bade nodded.
“Listen, if you’re scared of these guys,” Palma smiled, drinking the rest of his coffee, “I have to tell you, that’s the wrong way of looking at things.”
“What?” Bade said, shivering.
Palma smashed the coffee mug on the table and pressed the broken porcelain against Bade’s throat, “you should be way more afraid of
me!”
Bade gasped and tried to step back, but found Palma’s hand on the back of his neck. “C-Camera!” Bade said, pointing to the camera with a flashing red light in the corner.
Palma turned to it and smiled wickedly, “Make a choice, Bade, who are you more afraid of? Guys in masks who run around killing cops in the dark…”
Bade whimpered as Palma pressed the jagged porcelain against his throat.
“Or a cop like me,” Palama whispered into his ear, “who has no problems killing you right here, on camera, with my face on full display?”
Bade began to piss himself.
“Make your choice Bade… I haven’t got all day… and my hand’s starting to cramp,” Palma hissed with a devilish grin.
Bade stammered, “I-I don’t know his name! B-But I know he was a co-worker of that miner who fell! That’s all I know about
Cerberus, I swear to the Guardian!”
Palma smiled, pulling the coffee mug away from Bade’s neck, “thanks for being co-operative,” Palma slammed Bade’s face down onto the table with his other hand.
Bade’s head bounced off and he recoiled, falling back against the wall, collapsing to the floor in a heap as Palma strode out of the room.
Two officers stood there in shock.
Once the door shut, Palma burst out laughing, “Holy fuck! These Cerberus guys are a joke!” Palma grinned wickedly as he looked to the closed door, “I was literally just fuckin’ with him!”
One officer chuckled, “So were we!”
Palma grinned to them, “Just goes to show you boys,” he walked past the pair of officers, “
everyone is guilty of something.”
…
Nite “I’m sorry,” Rezzolina frowned, “you want… what?”
Yuki beamed, “I want to see the shuttle, you know before it’s decommissioned.”
“
You want to see the shuttle?” Rezzolina lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Yuki smiled wide, “Is that a problem?”
“It’s an odd favor to ask, from
you, all things considered,” Rezzolina thought out loud as she drank from a cup of hot amber colored tea.
“Is it?” Yuki asked.
Serren smiled, “she is a pilot, sister. Maybe she’d like to see how the shuttles operate?”
Rezzolina leaned back in her chair, “the shuttle does leave in a week. It’s not like you’re going to stow-away in that time.”
“Awesome! So that’s a yes then?” Yuki beamed at Rezzolina.
Serren joined Yuki in smiling at Rezzolina.
Rezzolina heaved a sigh, “Fine!” she stood up, placing her mug down, “but only because I haven’t seen you in a few years, Serren.”
Serren grinned, “Oh my, spending time with my sister! This is a new experience.”
Rezzolina narrowed her eyes on Serren, “Don’t push it, Brother.”
Yuki smiled,
“Part one of the plan is coming together…” she thought to herself.
…
A few hours later Rezzolina, Serren, and Yuki landed near a large staging area. A rather large ship was taking on crates and Niten dragons of all sorts were walking along the fuselage inspecting the craft.
“Wow,” Yuki remarked, “that’s a big shuttle.”
Rezzolina nodded, “yes it is, it has to be to transport goods from Nite to Dei.”
Yuki wondered why she had never seen a ship like this on Dei. Surely she would have had to see it? Someone would have seen it, right?
“I don’t suppose I could meet the crew, could I?” Yuki asked.
Rezzolina shrugged, “Why not, they’re inspecting the ship now.”
“They are?” Yuki smiled, “you actually let the flight crew inspect the ship?”
“Who else would do it? They’re the ones whose lives are on the line,” Rezzolina pointed out in a haughty tone.
“Ugh,” Yuki lamented, “I wish they had let us do that on Dei. There is a separate crew that does the maintenance.”
“It is like that on Dei,” Rezzolina pointed out, “in order to prevent the transmission of any foreign disease to the crew members, the crew quarters is on lockdown when it’s docked.”
“Really?” Yuki frowned,
“That would explain why no one has ever seen a Niten piloted shuttle land on Dei.” she thought.
“Honestly the only intelligent thing I’ve heard a Dei Angel say over a conference call,” Rezzolina said, approaching the ship.
Yuki’s mouth hung open, “excuse me?”
“I stand by that statement,” Rezzolina said as she continued towards the ship without looking back. “Come on, if you want to meet the crew, they’re this way.”
Serren sighed, “I’m sorry Yuki.”
“Yeah,” Yuki glared at Rezzolina, “me too.”
Rezzolina stood next to the large shuttle and shouted, “Anyone see a lazy pilot and her buddies anywhere around here?” she joked.
A large female Niten dragon, with brown scales and green eyes, chuckled to Rezzolina, “Chairwoman! What on Nite are you doing here?”
Rezzolina smiled and motioned for her to come down, “inspection.”
The brown Nite jumped down from the large ship, which stood a good ten meters off the ground. About halfway through her fall, she flapped her wings and slowed herself enough to land safely, “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she said, hugging Rezzolina.
Rezzolina hugged back, chuckling, “Well Brigg, it seems we’ve got tourists.”
“Tourists?” Briggett, the large brown nite said, turning to see Yuki and Serren approaching. She smiled, “Well hey there, little lady!”
Yuki smiled, for once not feeling spoken down to. Granted Briggett was the largest female nite she had run into, “Hi!” Yuki said.
“I’ve seen you on the news,” Briggett smiled, “Yuki, right? You must be a pretty skilled little pilot to keep one of those little bubble shuttles from melting on reentry.”
Yuki beamed, “It wasn’t as difficult as roughing it for a week in the wild.”
Briggett nodded, “it’s a miracle that you’re alive!”
Yuki nodded back, “So, mind showing me around your clunker?”
Briggett beamed, “I’d be honored! Come on board. My name’s Briggett, but please, call me Brigg. I’m the ship’s captain.”
“Nice to meet you Brigg,” Yuki grinned, “you already know my name but, Yuki Karkade,” she offered her hand to shake.
Briggett smiled, shaking her hand, “Pleased to meet you, Yuki.”
Yuki headed with Briggett towards the ship.
Rezzolina turned to Serren, “You’re not interested?”
Serren looked over the massive ship, “the less contact I have with it the better.”
Rezzolina smiled, “want to have lunch while Yuki and Briggett talk trade?”
Serren smiled to Rezzolina, “Yes, I’d love to.”
Rezzolina grinned back, “Good. Then you can explain to me how on Nite you mated with this Dei Angel.”
Serren laughed, as he shouted to Yuki, “I’ll catch up with you later!”
Yuki smiled back, “okay love!”
Briggett smiled, “Love? I’ve never heard that as a colloquial on Dei.”
“You speak Dei?” Yuki grinned.
Briggett nodded, “Have to! The crew that we land with are Dei angels.”
“Explains why you’re the only one who hasn’t called me a primitive,” Yuki remarked.
Briggett sighed, “I’ll apologize on their behalf: They don’t understand. Dei is kind of…” she sighed, “further apart than Nite.”
“How so?” Yuki questioned.
“You know, when you come to a big city like this,” she motioned to the city behind them, “you get used to knowing lots and lots of people. Everyone’s right on top of each other. This entire city was the first city ever built, you know.”
“Wow, really?” Yuki smiled.
“Oh yeah, back then Metro Prime was just, well, a little city, but everyone worked to protect one another and build it into the center of our society that it is today,” Briggett laughed.
“And I guess moving the city walls out is hard?” Yuki noted.
“Rarely happens,” Briggett motioned to the large buildings, “but it’s easier to build up than out. So that’s where things went.”
Yuki laughed, “I’d imagine.”
“But it’s different on Dei,” Briggett noted, “On Dei, no one had to live on top of each other. Folks could set out on their own, do their own thing, and not have to worry about some horrible giant lizard stomping them to death in their sleep.”
“Yeah,” Yuki shivered, recalling the terrible sight of poor Fammel, “that’s… not a pleasant image.”
Briggett shook her head, “It’s not. But,” Briggett smiled, changing the subject as they neared the rear of the ship, “because of that, I’m well aware that Dei society is just different. Not primitive.”
“It’s great to hear that,” Yuki smiled.
“Besides, my co-pilot Tarabetha?” Briggett leaned down to Yuki, whispering, “she’s got a crush on an air traffic controller named Thomas on Dei.”
“You don’t say,” Yuki said, wondering if Thomas knew she was a dragon and not just another pilot.
…
Dei Cleo and Sorjoy’s limo soon came up to a large gate with a monogram on the front of a large and ornate “RT”.
The gate opened slowly and the limousine rolled down a long road leading towards a massive palatial manor.
At the center of the driveway was a large fountain, where the drive circled around, leaving a stretch of road between the fountain and the staircase leading to the massive mansion.
Cleo looked up at the huge manner from the limousine and lifted her eyebrows in surprise.
Sorjoy was less impressed, clearly having seen the sight before.
Once the limousine came to a stop, Naberious moved to the door and opened it, assisting Sorjoy and Cleo out of the limo.
As Cleo stepped out she craned her neck upwards to see the whole sight of the massive manner. “Wow.”
“It helps to publish books on The Guardian’s works,” Sorjoy said, approaching the armored vehicle.
A few imps and angels alike came from inside the estate and helped to unload the large crate in the back of the armored truck.
“Be careful with that,” Sorjoy barked, “it’s worth more than any of your lives.”
Cleo stood there, clicking at her tablet, her brow furrowed, “seems three are dead after that attack.”
“Good,” Sorjoy sneered, “then they’ll know not to fuck with us again.”
“Or they’ll be out for blood,” Cleo sighed, “either way I think we’d better keep security beefed up.”
Sorjoy nodded, “I think we’ll need to hire a security advisor then.”
“Have you considered Naberious?” Cleo suggested.
Sorjoy turned to her, his eyebrow raised, “Naberious is our driver.”
“He’s a veteran, transporter, and bodyguard,” Cleo pointed out.
“Let’s seek someone with some more leadership experience,” Sorjoy ordered.
Cleo nodded, “I’ll have a shortlist for you at the end of the day.”
“Very good, Cleo,” Sorjoy praised as the Heart of Lucifer was loaded onto a pallet.
The wheezing voice of Trueman came from the steps, the click of his cane announcing his presence before his voice had reached any of them. “Very good indeed,” Trueman announced with a smile, “I must say, Erik, I’m very surprised to see you here in person.”
Sorjoy smiled and approached Trueman, “well, I figured it was only right for me to be here to deliver the diamond to you personally.”
Angels and Imps grunted behind Sorjoy as they hoisted the heavy diamond onto a wheeled jack and began to carefully move the item around a side door of the manor.
“Of course,” Mr. Trueman smiled warmly to Cleo and Sorjoy, “Please, come in. I would be a terrible host if I were not to invite you in for tea.”
“Thank you, Mr. Trueman, but that isn’t necessary for the least,” Cleo smiled pleasantly.
Sorjoy frowned, “Cleo it’s not polite to refus-”
Trueman cut Sorjoy off, “on the contrary, it’s often impolite to impose, and as such,” he smiled to Cleo, “I find it no bother at all, please do come in.”
Sorjoy narrowed his eyes on Cleo’s back as she made her way up the steps.
“This is a truly phenomenal home, Mr. Trueman. I’m astounded by the size and grandeur,” Cleo gushed.
“You flatter me,” Mr. Trueman laughed, “inheritances, some minor intelligent business moves and all of it for what?” he laughed, “so my porters and butlers can live in luxury alongside me.”
Cleo laughed, “Some lucky butlers!”
At the top of the steps was a dark blue-skinned imp with orange eyes and red hair who bowed low to Mr. Trueman and his guests, “Welcome to Trueman Manor,” he looked up as he ended his bow, glancing between Sorjoy and Cleo, “may I take your jackets?”
Trueman shook his head, “no, that’s fine.”
Cleo grinned at him warmly, “afraid I don’t have a jacket.”
The imp nodded, his smile fading a bit when he saw Cleo.
“Oh, this is my head butler and personal assistant, Malik,” Mr. Trueman smiled to Cleo and Sorjoy, “a most capable man.”
“A capable
Imp,” Sorjoy clarified.
“Indeed,” Mr. Trueman said, smiling, “Malik, if I may introduce the CEO of Fondsworth Inc, Erik Sorjoy, and his lovely assistant Ms. Cleopatra Cassandra Walters.”
Malik bowed again, “lovely to meet you both.”
Mr. Trueman grinned at Malik as he came up from his bow, looking Cleo over as Trueman walked by. “Mr. Sorjoy, would you come with me so we can discuss things in private? I believe Ms. Cleopatra and Malik can ready our tea and handle any additional logistics in the transportation of my new diamond.”
“Of course, sir,” Sorjoy said as he walked off.
When Trueman and Sorjoy were out of earshot, Malik turned to Cleo.
“It’s fairly insulting, so you know,” Malik said curtly.
Cleo smiled at him, “Yes, invite us in for tea and then order me to help you prepare it.” She grinned, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”
Malik seemed off-balance from the odd comment, but continued, “I meant the hair. Dying it white? And the wings?”
“Why would that be insulting?” Cleo asked.
“It mocks our savior,” Malik answered, leading Cleo towards the kitchen.
“Ipswella said something about that,” Cleo said in thought, “But I suppose I should let you know, it’s natural.”
Malik stopped, allowing Cleo to walk past him, “
What?”
Cleo turned and smiled, “It’s not dye, it’s natural. I was just born with a form of albinism. No pigment in my wings,” she motioned to her purple eyes, “and a lack of pigment here too.”
Malik seemed stunned, but soon caught up to her, “well… my apologies then.”
“You’re forgiven,” Cleo chuckled as they made their way to a kitchen, “now where are the tea bags?”
While Cleo and Malik prepared tea, Trueman and Sorjoy walked towards Trueman’s study.
“It has come to my attention, Mr. Sorjoy, that the title you so desperately wish to claim has a requirement I had almost forgotten about,” Mr. Trueman explained.
Sorjoy narrowed his eyes, “Sir, I feel I’ve done everything that was asked of me.”
“Of course,” Mr. Trueman nodded, “but a Great Patriarch must be… well… a patriarch! And you are lacking in family.”
“So is Hoffman,” Sorjoy confirmed.
“It’s that very change that has given me pause,” Mr. Trueman said as they entered the study, “you see, young Sorjoy, Mr. Hoffman is getting married at a small private affair as we speak.”
“
What?!” Sorjoy shouted.
“Indeed,” Mr. Trueman said, “so I would encourage you to find a proper woman.”
“Like Cleopatra? Is that what you’re saying?” Sorjoy asked.
“Heavens, no,” Mr. Trueman laughed, “no-no, a good match. You’re not her speed, my boy.”
“Not,” Sorjoy said, confused, “
her speed, sir?”
Trueman nodded, “You’re too similar, too driven. A man needs a wife who would support him, not try to outdo him.”
“I see,” Sorjoy frowned.
“As such I feel it important for you, Sorjoy, to establish some form of the relationship prior to you taking your seat,” Mr. Trueman announced.
“I’m rather busy, Mr. Trueman, as you well know,” Sorjoy explained.
“Exactly,” Mr. Trueman smiled, “so I would suggest you take some time off and spend it in the company of a woman.”
“What, do I crawl the bars?” Sorjoy mocked.
“On the contrary,” Mr. Trueman smiled, “you call a matchmaker,” he handed Sorjoy a card.
Sorjoy looked at the card. On it was a simple number, with one name underneath: “
Mimi.”
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