Chapter 2
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Chapter 2
Did we take them wrongly for a laughing stock?
Or have our eyes missed them?
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Qur'an, Ch.38, v.3
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Dwarf Planet Ceres - 311 BC
Dual-Empire Base
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Ceres Station was a subterranean military base dug deep within a dwarf planet in the asteroid belt which orbited the Sol system one planet removed from Earth. For reasons known to only to the two immortal emperors, not only did it house the Alliance, but it was also served as a joint-base for the Royal Sata'anic Navy.
Azrael stood at attention and tried not to cower in front of his furious, ten foot long, eight-legged Spiderid commanding officer. Like most insectoids, Major Skgrll's exoskeleton served as a form of terrifying natural armor. All eight of his compound eyes glowered at Azrael.
“I can’t go back there!” Azrael's wings drooped. “They know I'm watching them.”
“Did anyone come out to challenge you?” his commanding officer asked.
“No, Sir,” Azrael said. “I remained hidden until nightfall.”
“Did you have any other human interaction?”
“Just Elissar, Sir, um, I mean the child. She brought me some water.”
The Spiderid leaned closer, making Azrael painfully aware of his own, goat-s**t impregnated stench.
“Water?” the ten-foot spider's voice rumbled.
"Yes, Sir." Azrael tugged at his uniform collar which, despite being too large for his slender frame, had suddenly become unbearably tight. “I might have mentioned I was thirsty?"
Snickers erupted from the rest of the crew. Ensign Zarif, a Sata’anic naval officer he’d grown friendly with, flicked his transparent inner eyelids, the equivalent of a lizard-person rolling his eyes.
"And did she exhibit any further knowledge of Alliance vocabulary?”
“She gave me some bread,” Azrael confessed. “She knew it was called ‘aran,’ as well as that fruit the Emperor likes so much. Olives.”
“What else did she feed you?” Skgrll's voice rose sarcastically.
“They have this really flavorful meat called chicken.”
He shot his commanding officer a sheepish grin.
“And did you eat this meal alone?”
“Not exactly.” Color flushed his high, pale cheeks. “She, um, brought company."
Major Skgrll's feathery palps widened into an ear-splitting roar.
“I thought you said she didn't alert anybody to your presence!”
All of the other soldiers stopped whatever they were doing and edged closer so they could eavesdrop on his humiliation. Azrael felt as though he'd just stuck his foot into a trap. A foot that practically swam in his too-large Angelic combat boots.
“Not so much anybody—” Azrael hemmed with mortification. “More … playmates.”
“Other children?”
"No."
"So who did you spend your afternoon with?"
Azrael whispered, praying the other crewmen wouldn’t hear.
“Dolls.”
“You sat on the roof of this girl's house and played with dolls?!!”
‘Dolls dolls dolls dolls’ echoed through the cavernous launch bay loud enough for the entire galaxy to hear. Laughter erupted as every man on the base heard that he, Azrael Thanatos, a lowly private, had just spent the afternoon playing dolls with an eight-year-old girl.
“Yes, Sir,” Azrael's heart pounded in his ears. “I figured it was better than letting the entire city know I was there.”
Three Leonid multi-purpose fighters, the toughest of the tough, elbowed each other in the ribs. One grabbed the afterburner he was repairing and pantomimed cradling a baby-doll while the second grabbed a small cylinder and, pinky-claw outstretched, pretended to take a sip out of a cup of tea. The third flicked a paw in Azrael’s direction in the universal symbol of a man who enjoys relations with other men.
Ensign Zarif doubled over, slapping his haunches as he tried to catch his breath. Throughout the launch bay, every crewman in two empires laughed.
If only he could evaporate into a black hole right this instant! Why in Hades had the Emperor requested that he, a nerd from the science academy with no prior military training whatsoever, go on this mission?
Azrael fought back tears.
“Maybe you should send someone more qualified?” he mumbled. “I’m just a private. I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”
“I already requested that—” Major Skgrll glowered with all eight eyes. “Several times. But for some reason both emperors insist that you, and only you, are qualified to complete this mission! Do you have some secret qualifications hidden beneath the act of a bumbling i***t I should know about?”
“No, Sir.” Azrael stared down at his too-large combat boots. Major Skgrll had spat puppies upon learning he'd been ordered, from the top of the food chain, to micromanage a wet-behind-the-ears, under-age private.
“The Eternal Emperor himself just ordered that you are to be sent back to Earth as soon as you delouse the sand fleas out of your wings—” Skgrll bellowed loudly enough for the entire base to hear “—and continue your reconnaissance of General Hanno’s household. Do you understand that, Private Thanatos?”
“Yes, Sir.” Azrael gave a weak salute.
“And furthermore,” Major Skgrll shouted. “You are ordered to remain hidden and not to interfere! That order came directly from the Emperor!”
“What if, um—” Azrael shifted his weight from one foot to the other “—what if the little girl wants me to play dolls again?”
“Then you will do whatever it takes to earn that child’s trust so you can pump her for information about what in Hades is broadcasting that energy signature! Including, if it keeps her quiet, playing dolls!”
The crew burst into laughter. One Leonid soldier kissed his afterburner baby doll. The other two sat on their haunches and pretended to scratch behind their ears as though they were dogs loaded with fleas.
Azrael's face turned purple with mortification.
"Dismissed!" the Major gave Azrael a brusque salute. He marched away, his eight spiny legs clacking in a frustrated tempo.
Azrael hurried away so the others wouldn’t see his tears.
“Hey, Az!” Ensign Zarif trotted to catch up, his tail bobbing behind him. “Wait up!”
“What do you want?” Azrael burst out. "To tease me, too?"
"No." Zariff tasted the air with his long, forked tongue. “Don't pay them no mind. They’re just a bunch of jarheads.”
“Why did he have to yell it for the whole base to hear? I didn't ask to be sent out here! You have no idea what it’s like, not fitting in!”
“You’re right.” Zarif said. “I’m one of six hatchlings from a single clutch, from a mother who’s laid dozens of similar clutches, from a father with three wives. But I do know what it’s like to have one of your own brothers embarrass you.”
“Why did the Emperor even give me this assignment?" he sniffed. "I’m just a geek from the science academy. If he’d asked me to study amoebae, I could understand. But to just watch? And do nothing? Why?”
“The gods work in mysterious ways.” Zarif touched his clawed hand to his forehead, his heart, and then his lips. “Shay’tan be praised. Perhaps it’s some sort of test? Our emperor loves tests. Maybe yours does as well?”
“More like a big fat wager,” Azrael scowled. “I’ve heard about Shay’tan's bets.”
“Maybe he’d like to promote you to some other position," Zariff said, "and wants to see how you’ll perform under fire?”
“At least that would mean the Emperor isn’t being sadistic," Azrael sniffed. "I don’t think I could bear it if he went around toying with people.”
The lizard-man's serpentine eyes grew serious.
“I don’t think they mean to be cruel,” Zarif said. “They're immortal. They don’t stop to think about how using mortals as pawns upsets our lives.”
“Well I hope there’s a reason he sent me out into the middle of nowhere," Azrael said. "I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing!”
“Sure you do,” Zarif said. “Major Skgrll just told you. Watch how people act and don’t interfere. If that doesn’t sound like an anthropological experiment in the making, I don’t know what is.”
“Oh?” Azrael's wing's perked up with interest. “You think I was sent here to observe? For scientific purposes?”
“You are from the science academy, nimrod!” Zarif slapped him on the shoulder. “Send a budding scientist whose mother is an expert in studying pre-sentient species to replace the jarheads to observe behavior? Sounds like a post-doctoral fellowship to me.”
“Hey? How’d you know my mother is an expert in her field?”
“Um…” The lizard man fiddled with the button-band of his uniform. “Word gets around.”
“What word?
“They’re, um, saying…" he trailed off. "They're saying the only reason you got this assignment is because your mother pulled strings with the Emperor.”
Anger boiled up in Azrael’s veins and dissipated. Now that made sense. His mother had always kept him and his little sister firmly under the protective arc of her enormous white wings. She’d homeschooled him while out in the field, collecting data, so he’d get into the science academy years ahead of his peers. It would explain how he, a mere cadet, had suddenly been sidetracked to where the action was. The Emperor wanted him to follow in his mother’s footsteps.
And so did he!
A smile lit up Azrael's face as he resumed his hurried pace, trying hard not to flap his wings lest he float through the halls.
Notebooks. Pencils. Something to act as a reward…
“Thanks, Zarif!" he called out. "I know what I’m supposed to do!”
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