“He preferred Ferdinand,” sniffed Donut.
The Gleener disappeared and was replaced by an elf-like creature wearing a top hat.
“Hello,” the elf said. “My name is Chappy. My question is also for Donut. “If Bea is alive, and she shows up, are you really going to leave Carl for her?”
A chill washed over me. I looked sharply at Donut, who looked back up at me with a look of confusion on her face.
“When we reunite with Miss Beatrice, we will all work together. It will be like before.”
Chappy seemed perplexed by her answer. “Surely you don’t think Carl will want to stay with her.” He turned his gaze to me. “Carl?”
This was a situation that was never going to manifest itself because the odds of Bea being anything but dead were astronomical. And if she wasn’t dead by some miracle, one of these talk shows would’ve dug her up by now. Nevertheless, it was a conversation I still needed to have with Donut. But I wouldn’t be having it on live television. Fuck that. I mumbled, “We’ll cross that bridge when…”
“I’m sorry to interrupt folks,” Ripper said, his voice quavering. I could tell he was angry, and he was barely holding it in. “But we have some breaking news to share. As you all saw, our program was interrupted. We now have verification that this was because of a senseless pulse attack on a production asset housing our friend and frequent guest Manasa. I am sorry to say, it appears she has perished in the attack.” Gasps and cries of surprise and astonishment filled the audience. Ripper lifted his paw to calm them down. Next to me, Princess D’nadia wept. Black oil cascaded down the front of her cephalopod face. “But there’s more. In a tragic twist to this story, it is apparent she was not the target of the attack. Simultaneous with the pulse…” Ripper paused, unsuccessfully attempting to compose himself. His anger bubbled over into his voice. “…Prince Stalwart of the Skull Empire released the following statement.”
A screen appeared. The coarse-haired, wild boar creature sat behind a desk. Prince Stalwart, crown prince of the Skull Empire, looked very much like his disgraced younger brother. While the Maestro had been overly muscular, Stalwart was leaner, but he still exuded power and strength. And cruelty. Even before he spoke, I could see it in his pig eyes.
Over the orc’s shoulder was a window overlooking a large, green field that spread into the far distance. The dots of hundreds of soldiers marching in formation appeared down below. The camera was angled to view the field perfectly.
He’s on the ninth floor right now, I thought. He’s setting up the faction wars segment of the game.
“Citizens of the Syndicate. By the time this message hits the tunnel, the earth creatures Carl and Donut will have been executed by a pulse fired from my personal yacht. The Skull Empire will pay for any damages to any private property destroyed in the attack. We are claiming, under the Syndicate rules regarding independent system sovereignty, that this summary execution is both justified and appropriate given Carl’s statements advocating sedition. That is all.” The message snapped off.
“That was quick,” Donut muttered.
“You can say that again,” I said. The attack had come barely two minutes after I’d spoken out.
“They hit the wrong trailer,” Tucker said. He looked at us. His earlier snootiness was gone. He sounded in shock. “It was meant for you.”
“Manasa had switched trailers,” Princess D’nadia said. “They said you needed cleaning facilities, and she offered to trade.” The princess could barely speak, she was so upset. “She was my friend. For countless years, she’d been my friend. Even though she was a worm head, we’d been close for so long.” She turned to the audience and cleared her voice. She sat up straighter in her chair. “The Prism Kingdom officially condemns this action by the Skull Empire, and we will be filing an immediate grievance with the Syndicate Court.”
“The Valtay and the Skull Empire are strong allies,” Tucker said. “Surely they’ll see this as a tragic accident.”
“Do you know how much money Manasa brings in for the Valtay each year?” Ripper said. “Those idiots. Stupid, stupid. She was a treasure. People think their technological sector brings in the most, but that’s not true. Not even close. It’s their entertainment assets. They just murdered her.”
I felt a sudden wave of anger wash over me. Now you’re outraged? When it was your friend? The cognitive dissonance was just overwhelming. I didn’t dare say it out loud, but what the hell? They destroyed us, destroyed our planet. And one poorly-shot missile or whatever the hell it was, and suddenly it’s a tragedy. Fuck you. Fuck you all.
“Carl,” Donut said, concern to her voice. “Carl, if they know they hit the wrong trailer will they shoot at us again? Maybe we should go.”
Ripper looked at us, and waved at us to remain seated. “It’s okay. You’re okay. This just in. I am getting word now. The Valtay are claiming one of their dreadnaughts in earth orbit has destroyed Prince Stalwart’s yacht. Again, the Valtay are claiming to have destroyed a Skull Empire royal vessel. From the message, it is clear Stalwart was not on board at the time, but it is rumored that both Queen Consort Ugloo and former prince Maestro were on board.”
“So much for their alliance,” Tucker said. “That weakens Valtay’s position on the bankruptcy action.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tucker,” Princess D’nadia said. “By the gods, our friend has been murdered.”
“Wait, did he say the Maestro is dead?” said Donut. “Carl, did you hear that?”
“I heard, Donut.”
As Ripper continued to breathlessly repeat everything that had happened, I met eyes with Hekla, who continued to sit quietly across the table, a rock in the storm. She studied me curiously.
“Is this how it always is with you two, then?” she asked. “What was it he said? Scorched earth?”
I nodded. I put my hand on Donut.
“With a little bit of chaos thrown in,” I said.
20
Ripper Wonton played a video of Manasa singing, her final performance. The large cobra was in an opulent dining room, singing a cappella in a hauntingly sad soprano voice. The entire studio watched in dead silence. It gave me the chills.
“Wow,” Donut whispered as the song was done.
The show ended shortly thereafter, and the virtual studio faded away, leaving me and Donut alone in the room. Hekla and the others disappeared before we could say our goodbyes. We got up and returned to the lounge.
I moved to the small window by the bathroom, and sure enough one of the two trailers floating out there was gone. It had been replaced by hundreds of floating probes of all sizes, zipping about, scanning the water. Two of them whizzed toward me the moment I stuck my head in the window, but before they could get too close, the glass snapped shut like a camera shutter.
My HUD flickered back on.
Zev: I’ll meet you guys at the saferoom. Prepare to be transported in a few moments.
Carclass="underline" See you there.
“She was really nice. Manasa, I mean. I liked her,” Donut said as we waited. She released Mongo from his pet carrier, and he hopped up and down with excitement. He rushed into the bathroom and stood upon the cleaning treadmill. He grunted angrily when it didn’t automatically start up.
“Yeah,” I said. “That was too bad.”
“Do you really believe all that stuff you just said? About people rising up?” Donut asked.
I shrugged. “It’s a little naïve. It’s a nice fantasy, but I know the universe doesn’t really work that way. For all we know, that king guy’s people are really happy. Just because people complain about stuff doesn’t mean they have it bad. Besides, I’m a nobody. It’s not like I have the power to change anything. I wasn’t expecting that, though. Jesus.”