05-17-2023, 08:16 PM
Unknown Location, Kerlile
Monday
“Where are we going?” whispered Councillor Rosemary Arnott as she followed her aunt Claire through the woods.
“It’s better you don’t know,” Claire replied.
“Do you really think the Patels are trying to kill me? Are they going to try to kill my mother? If they do, what will happen?” Rosemary couldn’t help asking questions.
“If they kill Rebecca, I expect the Women’s Party will choose the next President; then they will round up reformists and execute them all, and clamp down firmly on dissent. They will probably murder Hale, send assassins to Zongongia for the Robinsons and hunt us down until they find us and torture us to death.”
Rosemary was shocked, and remained silent.
“Stop asking questions,” Claire said.
She did. What else was she supposed to do after that? The worst part was that it was probably all true. Rosemary desperately wanted to flee the country; but Claire had said no. Technically, Rosemary outranked her as a Councillor, but Rosemary still hadn’t learned how to give orders to people older than her.
They emerged to find a tiny wooden cabin. It had clearly been built by hand, by people for whom the construction of buildings was not their primary profession.
“You had two uncles,” Claire said.
“Yeah, I know, the Patels had them executed in 2019,” Rosemary replied.
“Well, this was where we hid them growing up during the inspections.”
“Inspections?”
“Goddess, you’re just a kid,” Claire shook her head. “Before the amendments to Private Property Act, the Council used to enforce EUDCA requirements by inspecting our properties once a year. It was an exception to the Act, but they closed the loophole in 2002.”
“I didn’t know that,” Rosemary said, looking at the makeshift cabin.
“We keep erasing history, and not even teaching it to Councillors,” Claire said, taking out a set of keys and unlocking a rusty padlock on the door. “That way, it dies alongside the people they execute. Of course, with the internet and all, it’s harder now. Their attempt to erase the Robinsons will fail.”
They went inside. It was a single room, sparsely furnished, with no indoor plumbing. “We’re going to be hiding here?” Rosemary asked.
“If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to go beg the Patels for mercy. Of course, you’ve seen what they prefer to do to prisoners, so I wouldn’t bet on them granting it,” Claire said, slinging off her backpack and sitting down on a wooden chair.
Rosemary walked over to one of the two twin beds. She hesitantly touched one. No bugs crawled out, but she wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t there. She shook her head, backing away from it. “No way,” she said. “No way.”
“It’s this or being tortured to death by Yamunda,” Claire said, opening a packet and holding something out. “Biscuit?”
Rosemary looked at her aunt for a minute, and then bolted out of the door, running into the woods. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Was this all some kind of prank her family was playing on her?
She stopped when she reached a stream, uncertain. No, of course it wasn’t. That’s what that Lauchenoirian, the one the Xiomerans kidnapped, had said. She followed him on social media; she had a morbid fascination with foreign conspiracy theorists. To find people to follow she literally just searched “secret Aurora” and there were plenty. Anyway, this was in all likelihood real.
“Hey,” Claire said, having approached her from behind. “Look, I’m probably being too blunt. I’m sorry, okay? I forget some of you have had it too easy… no, that’s rude. Some people have had… different life experiences.”
“You’ve fought in, what? Three actual wars?” Rosemary asked. “I don’t know how to do this, I just want to run away. Please can we just run?”
“I only caught the tail end of the Civil War,” Claire replied, taking Rosemary’s arm and guiding her back to the cabin. “But by that point, DKS had become more extreme in their tactics. You might be tempted to believe that the whole thing about them being terrorists was just propaganda, and at first it was. But as time went on, their commanders became increasingly desperate… here, sit down.”
They’d made it back to the cabin, and Claire took off Rosemary’s backpack, guiding her into the wooden chair. Claire then sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.
“Where was I? Ah yes, the civil war. By 1997, when I joined the military as a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, everyone in DKS knew what happened if they got taken prisoner, and so most of them would fight to the death. They also stopped taking prisoners themselves; they’d shoot people who tried to surrender.”
“I thought that was just propaganda,” Rosemary said.
“I witnessed it. I’d be dead myself, but I was lucky,” Claire said. “Now, that’s not to say that DKS’s aims weren’t noble; they were. But some of their tactics were just as bad as the other side. By the end of the war, they cared even less about civilian casualties than the government’s side. The way they saw it was that either you were with them, or against them, and if you were against them you deserved death. Even if you were a small kid.”
“I know there were some DKS attacks where kids died, but surely that was just an accident?” Rosemary asked.
“Your grandmother was due to visit a school; she had to change her plans last minute. DKS put a bomb in the school; on a timer. They didn’t disarm it or warn anyone when the plans changed. And they used child soldiers, of course: some went to them of their own accord, which is not great, but not quite as bad. But there were absolutely kids who were forced as well: I saw some myself.”
“What…” Rosemary didn’t finish her question. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“What happened to them? Depends how old they were. Anyone over fourteen ended up the same as the adults, though not the whole finger thing. Boys over, what was it? Eight, I think, suffered the same fate. Girls between eight and thirteen got assessed, like the alt-ed test. The under eights were let go.”
“So, they locked up and tortured eight-year-old boys, yet you expect me to see DKS as the villains?” Rosemary said.
“I expect you to see both sides as the villains,” Claire replied. “I expect you to look at war as something to be avoided where possible. Oh, I know, you wouldn’t expect this coming from me. But trust me, I have seen three wars, and I do not want to see any more.”
“What was worse, Lauchenoiria or Xiomera?” Rosemary asked.
“Lauchenoiria, by far. By the time of the Xiomeran civil war, the reformists were in power and we were behaving ourselves. In Lauchenoiria, things were bad. I’ve never tolerated war crimes under my direct command, but our forces were split, and…” Claire sighed. “Here’s the thing. Every time I would say something like ‘don’t torture prisoners’ people thought I was just ensuring plausible deniability, and that I never meant it. Also, Anita Patel liked to overrule me. It was not an easy position to be in.”
The pair remained silent for a while, contemplating how messed up Kerlian society was.
*
Patel Household
Today
They’d been in the cabin for several days by the time the Patels put the pieces together. The whole affair with the brothers had slipped their mind, until they started going through the records of every order given by a Patel pertaining to the Arnott family. There they’d found the one about the execution of two males suspected of being the biological brothers of then-Councillor Rebecca Arnott. And suddenly, it all clicked.
Nirmala Patel had noted at that point that Rosemary hadn’t been seen for several days. And they grew even more suspicious. Yamunda had stormed down to her dungeon, murdered a few people, and then managed to calm down slightly. The two people she murdered were, in fact, relieved. The alternative to death, for them, was worse.
“What do we do?” Yamunda growled.
“We find Rosemary,” Nirmala replied.
“And then we kill her, slowly and painfully. What about Rebecca?”
“We can’t outright kill her. We will just have to ensure she is removed from power. I have several ideas; I need to develop them, though.”
“Are there any other Arnotts we can go after?” Yamunda said. She didn’t know where Rosemary was, and she wanted someone she could torture now.
“Uh, there’s the sister in the military, and I think she’s got some daughters, but I honestly don’t remember,” Nirmala shook her head.
“We need to deal with these reformist families,” Yamunda sighed. “The Robinsons should not be alive. Nor should Hale. Nor should the Arnotts. I’ll forgive Georgiou, because she’s only pro-reform so she can buy stupid foreign art.”
“We can’t just wipe out three whole families.”
“Oh really?” Yamunda raised an eyebrow. “Time was when we could wipe out six, and nobody would even remember.”
“Yeah, in 1934, before the internet, and CCTV cameras, and foreign journalists on the streets of Grapevale,” Nirmala pointed out.
“Okay, we can’t do it openly,” Yamunda conceded. “Doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”
The pair looked at each other for a few moments. Then Nirmala shook her head. “Fantasies. Focus on finding Rosemary for now.”
Yamunda eyed her sister for a minute, then sighed and left the room. Nirmala spent too much time ensuring her conduct was respectable. She did not have the guts to do what needed to be done. Of course, that’s why they were the perfect pair. Nirmala was the face, who would go to Council meetings and sound reasonable. And Yamunda would be in the shadows, disposing of their enemies.
Monday
“Where are we going?” whispered Councillor Rosemary Arnott as she followed her aunt Claire through the woods.
“It’s better you don’t know,” Claire replied.
“Do you really think the Patels are trying to kill me? Are they going to try to kill my mother? If they do, what will happen?” Rosemary couldn’t help asking questions.
“If they kill Rebecca, I expect the Women’s Party will choose the next President; then they will round up reformists and execute them all, and clamp down firmly on dissent. They will probably murder Hale, send assassins to Zongongia for the Robinsons and hunt us down until they find us and torture us to death.”
Rosemary was shocked, and remained silent.
“Stop asking questions,” Claire said.
She did. What else was she supposed to do after that? The worst part was that it was probably all true. Rosemary desperately wanted to flee the country; but Claire had said no. Technically, Rosemary outranked her as a Councillor, but Rosemary still hadn’t learned how to give orders to people older than her.
They emerged to find a tiny wooden cabin. It had clearly been built by hand, by people for whom the construction of buildings was not their primary profession.
“You had two uncles,” Claire said.
“Yeah, I know, the Patels had them executed in 2019,” Rosemary replied.
“Well, this was where we hid them growing up during the inspections.”
“Inspections?”
“Goddess, you’re just a kid,” Claire shook her head. “Before the amendments to Private Property Act, the Council used to enforce EUDCA requirements by inspecting our properties once a year. It was an exception to the Act, but they closed the loophole in 2002.”
“I didn’t know that,” Rosemary said, looking at the makeshift cabin.
“We keep erasing history, and not even teaching it to Councillors,” Claire said, taking out a set of keys and unlocking a rusty padlock on the door. “That way, it dies alongside the people they execute. Of course, with the internet and all, it’s harder now. Their attempt to erase the Robinsons will fail.”
They went inside. It was a single room, sparsely furnished, with no indoor plumbing. “We’re going to be hiding here?” Rosemary asked.
“If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to go beg the Patels for mercy. Of course, you’ve seen what they prefer to do to prisoners, so I wouldn’t bet on them granting it,” Claire said, slinging off her backpack and sitting down on a wooden chair.
Rosemary walked over to one of the two twin beds. She hesitantly touched one. No bugs crawled out, but she wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t there. She shook her head, backing away from it. “No way,” she said. “No way.”
“It’s this or being tortured to death by Yamunda,” Claire said, opening a packet and holding something out. “Biscuit?”
Rosemary looked at her aunt for a minute, and then bolted out of the door, running into the woods. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. Was this all some kind of prank her family was playing on her?
She stopped when she reached a stream, uncertain. No, of course it wasn’t. That’s what that Lauchenoirian, the one the Xiomerans kidnapped, had said. She followed him on social media; she had a morbid fascination with foreign conspiracy theorists. To find people to follow she literally just searched “secret Aurora” and there were plenty. Anyway, this was in all likelihood real.
“Hey,” Claire said, having approached her from behind. “Look, I’m probably being too blunt. I’m sorry, okay? I forget some of you have had it too easy… no, that’s rude. Some people have had… different life experiences.”
“You’ve fought in, what? Three actual wars?” Rosemary asked. “I don’t know how to do this, I just want to run away. Please can we just run?”
“I only caught the tail end of the Civil War,” Claire replied, taking Rosemary’s arm and guiding her back to the cabin. “But by that point, DKS had become more extreme in their tactics. You might be tempted to believe that the whole thing about them being terrorists was just propaganda, and at first it was. But as time went on, their commanders became increasingly desperate… here, sit down.”
They’d made it back to the cabin, and Claire took off Rosemary’s backpack, guiding her into the wooden chair. Claire then sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.
“Where was I? Ah yes, the civil war. By 1997, when I joined the military as a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, everyone in DKS knew what happened if they got taken prisoner, and so most of them would fight to the death. They also stopped taking prisoners themselves; they’d shoot people who tried to surrender.”
“I thought that was just propaganda,” Rosemary said.
“I witnessed it. I’d be dead myself, but I was lucky,” Claire said. “Now, that’s not to say that DKS’s aims weren’t noble; they were. But some of their tactics were just as bad as the other side. By the end of the war, they cared even less about civilian casualties than the government’s side. The way they saw it was that either you were with them, or against them, and if you were against them you deserved death. Even if you were a small kid.”
“I know there were some DKS attacks where kids died, but surely that was just an accident?” Rosemary asked.
“Your grandmother was due to visit a school; she had to change her plans last minute. DKS put a bomb in the school; on a timer. They didn’t disarm it or warn anyone when the plans changed. And they used child soldiers, of course: some went to them of their own accord, which is not great, but not quite as bad. But there were absolutely kids who were forced as well: I saw some myself.”
“What…” Rosemary didn’t finish her question. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“What happened to them? Depends how old they were. Anyone over fourteen ended up the same as the adults, though not the whole finger thing. Boys over, what was it? Eight, I think, suffered the same fate. Girls between eight and thirteen got assessed, like the alt-ed test. The under eights were let go.”
“So, they locked up and tortured eight-year-old boys, yet you expect me to see DKS as the villains?” Rosemary said.
“I expect you to see both sides as the villains,” Claire replied. “I expect you to look at war as something to be avoided where possible. Oh, I know, you wouldn’t expect this coming from me. But trust me, I have seen three wars, and I do not want to see any more.”
“What was worse, Lauchenoiria or Xiomera?” Rosemary asked.
“Lauchenoiria, by far. By the time of the Xiomeran civil war, the reformists were in power and we were behaving ourselves. In Lauchenoiria, things were bad. I’ve never tolerated war crimes under my direct command, but our forces were split, and…” Claire sighed. “Here’s the thing. Every time I would say something like ‘don’t torture prisoners’ people thought I was just ensuring plausible deniability, and that I never meant it. Also, Anita Patel liked to overrule me. It was not an easy position to be in.”
The pair remained silent for a while, contemplating how messed up Kerlian society was.
*
Patel Household
Today
They’d been in the cabin for several days by the time the Patels put the pieces together. The whole affair with the brothers had slipped their mind, until they started going through the records of every order given by a Patel pertaining to the Arnott family. There they’d found the one about the execution of two males suspected of being the biological brothers of then-Councillor Rebecca Arnott. And suddenly, it all clicked.
Nirmala Patel had noted at that point that Rosemary hadn’t been seen for several days. And they grew even more suspicious. Yamunda had stormed down to her dungeon, murdered a few people, and then managed to calm down slightly. The two people she murdered were, in fact, relieved. The alternative to death, for them, was worse.
“What do we do?” Yamunda growled.
“We find Rosemary,” Nirmala replied.
“And then we kill her, slowly and painfully. What about Rebecca?”
“We can’t outright kill her. We will just have to ensure she is removed from power. I have several ideas; I need to develop them, though.”
“Are there any other Arnotts we can go after?” Yamunda said. She didn’t know where Rosemary was, and she wanted someone she could torture now.
“Uh, there’s the sister in the military, and I think she’s got some daughters, but I honestly don’t remember,” Nirmala shook her head.
“We need to deal with these reformist families,” Yamunda sighed. “The Robinsons should not be alive. Nor should Hale. Nor should the Arnotts. I’ll forgive Georgiou, because she’s only pro-reform so she can buy stupid foreign art.”
“We can’t just wipe out three whole families.”
“Oh really?” Yamunda raised an eyebrow. “Time was when we could wipe out six, and nobody would even remember.”
“Yeah, in 1934, before the internet, and CCTV cameras, and foreign journalists on the streets of Grapevale,” Nirmala pointed out.
“Okay, we can’t do it openly,” Yamunda conceded. “Doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”
The pair looked at each other for a few moments. Then Nirmala shook her head. “Fantasies. Focus on finding Rosemary for now.”
Yamunda eyed her sister for a minute, then sighed and left the room. Nirmala spent too much time ensuring her conduct was respectable. She did not have the guts to do what needed to be done. Of course, that’s why they were the perfect pair. Nirmala was the face, who would go to Council meetings and sound reasonable. And Yamunda would be in the shadows, disposing of their enemies.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax