Tales From the Terran Republic

Ilnan nodded.

“She was too perfect,” Ilnan replied, “She was so beautiful it was like looking into hyperspace. Most people couldn’t even look dead on. They had to glance away, and none would approach her. She was so smart that she made you look a fool, and few would teach her. She had this weird way of making every flaw, every mark, every imperfection itch and burn. It made her childhood a near solitary one. I tried to be kind, but she… It was a lot to deal with. Still, she was so singular that there were talks being held in secret that perhaps the best path forward would be to pair active seers and warriors, abandoning all other castes in favor of this seemingly perfect mix.”

Ilnan sighed,

“We figured out how to inhibit caste traits a few years after Sheloran’s birth,” Ilnan said, “it is also a simple single hormone. We are the same species, and all share the same switch. Because of the success of Sheloran, more uninhibited seer and warrior pairings were made. They also did well, however, not as well as the first. That only made sense because of her parentage.”

“Did The Great Seer and The Great Prophet have more children?”

“No, The Great Seer became quite… strange… after Sheloran was born and eventually just sort of… wasted away. She was, however, quite old at this point.”

And very good at seeing the future, The Heretic thought to herself as she could see the strings of fate roaring down.

“These secret active children and Sheloran, the first of them, continued to be ‘perfect,’ so more and more were quietly created…”

“Until?” The Heretic asked.

“Until Sheloran reached her second decade,” Ilnan sighed. “She started getting… strange. She became annoyed at the special treatment that the seers and the warriors received, even though it was well-earned, and she benefited from it most of all. She also started finding the company of her own kind nearly intolerable, accusing people of only pretending to like her, sometimes quoting their own thoughts back to them.”

Shit. The Heretic thought as she remembered scenes that had been mystifying her for years.

“And woe betide a warrior who made the mistake of defending his honor or laying claim to something that they deserved. If the First Daughter caught them, it was bad. I still flinch every time I hear a chain rattle or something crack like a whip. She could take someone apart with a whip. I once watched her take the fingers off of a warrior’s hand one by one by one…”

“Imagine that,” The Heretic muttered, trying to figure out the punchline before she was told it, a final amusement.

“It just kept getting worse and worse,” Ilnan moaned, “and the other pairings? They were all instinctively drawn to her. We started to fear that we had created a new caste. All new pairings stopped, but there were several hundred of these now. Thank the Prophet that we had not fully unlocked fertility and were still actively managing the population.”

“Thank goodness,” The Heretic said, her amusement building.

“It came to a head a few years after her twentieth year,” Ilnan sighed, “She and her followers finally left the settlements and ventured forth into the paradise we were building. We were first relieved. Let’s just say that the First Daughter no longer brought joy to many of us. Soon we would be looking back on her innocent little antics, desperately wishing those days would return.”

“Let me guess,” The Heretic smiled, “she disapproved of ‘the great work’”

“Your vision holds true,” Ilnan said sadly, “It was not long before she burst into where her father was holding audience and angrily denounced the great work. When he bade her to mind herself, she cursed him publicly and to his face. What’s worse, she had dragged a… bavnee… along with her into the sacred halls!”

“A bavnee?”

The Heretic was no longer amused.

“A filthy bavnee!” Ilnan exclaimed, “a dirty wretched thing. Then she said that the world belonged to those vazk bavnee, not us! She started to say a great many other things so foul that they threatened to scar the mind as she demanded over and over if we knew.”

Ilnan covered her astral ears.

“She kept shouting with her voice, with her mind, with her soul...” Ilnan shuddered at the memory, “It was… horrible...”

“Ilnan,” The Heretic asked as anger built within her, “Was the world inhabited?”

“Only by basic lifeforms,” Ilnan shrugged.

“You know what I am asking,” The Heretic said as her projection’s eyes started to glow. “That bavnee, was it wearing clothes? Did it have words?”

“That is completely irrelevant!” Ilnan exclaimed, “Sheloran called her father, The Great Prophet, a—“

”Who were they, Ilnan?” The Heretic demanded, “Would I recognize their name?”

“...”

”Who were they?” The Heretic repeated, “And am I correct in assuming that I’m using the correct tense?”

”The Lk’lari,” Ilnan replied, “Their planet had nearly the exact...”

The Heretic struggled to contain her emotions both to keep cohesion and to prevent killing someone she was about to need. The Lk’lari were, if anything, more advanced than her Tol. If the Tol’s world was more appealing, Ol’ Fatty would have been killed just because her “sisters” liked its average temperature or how the stars looked at a certain time of night. Knowing them, whether a sapient species was wiped out or a slightly less convenient world was picked hinged on that small of a detail.

“No!” The Heretic said in mock horror, “All of that over just some bavnee?”

“Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Ilnan replied, “Well, she was thrown right back out into the woods to think about what she said and that she could not come back until she apologized.”

“How long before the attacks started?” The Heretic asked with a smirk.

“Two weeks,” Ilnan replied. “It was only two weeks before worksites were attacked. She and the other Seerwarriors would sweep in, and there was, at first, only enough security to keep those bavnee away, not Sheloran and her demons. The guards would be subdued or even killed and then Sheloran would address the workers, spreading heresy about the bavnee. Then they would tell the workers about the secret active pairings and prove it by all of the demons showing their true eyes. At that moment of shock, they would then say that the plan was to use the lower castes to do all the labor and that their reward would not be the paradise they were building but that they would share the same fate as the bavnee in the end. This sowed dissent and chaos.”

“Was that the plan?” The Heretic asked.

“No...”

“Ilnan.”

“Ok,” Ilnan admitted, “There was some talk about that possibility, but—“

“Oh, shut up and tell me the rest,” The Heretic said wearily.

“Her lies spread through the world like oil on the surface of a pond, poisoning many hearts against the great vision. Work came to a near halt, and an ever-growing number of people joined her ranks every day. She claimed the great work complete and that we could live with the bavnee or find another world.”

“Could that be done?” The Heretic asked, “Or were the bavnee already doomed? They were doomed, weren’t they?”

“The entire population was already sterile,” Ilnan replied, “We might have been able to reverse it but it would have taken time away from the great work, and sharing our refuge was simply not an option. What if those bavnee decided to turn on us?”

“I take it that this news did not go over well?”

“That crazed monster actually went to war over some filthy bavnee!” Ilnan exclaimed, “She and her followers tried to capture us and force us to reverse the damage. Her father had no choice but to lead our forces against her.”

Ilnan choked back tears.

“It was… horrible!” she exclaimed, “The Great Prophet was a mighty general and had the numbers and equipment, but Sheloran was an unholy mix of Seer and War Prophet and knew the arts of life weaving and far sight. She also had all of the unholy caste that we had inadvertently created on her behalf. One of those… monsters… was more than the equal of an entire squad. The war raged for several years, gutting the military caste and greatly thinning our numbers as well. They fought like demons and without any rules or honor. They even fought alongside bavnee! It took years and cost so many lives… so many… but Sheloran’s forces were eventually ground down, and she surrendered.”

“Which the Great Prophet personally accepted,” The Heretic chuckled darkly, “putting him within arm’s reach.”

Ilnan nodded sadly.

“We searched her!” she wailed, “We searched her every single way we could think of!”

“What did she do?”

“When The Great Prophet came forward and, weeping, drew his blade,” Ilnan said, her projection twisting and shimmering at the memory, “Sheloran’s eyes… They….”

“She dominated the Great Prophet?!?”

“She had to have consumed something!” Ilnan exclaimed. “There was no way she could have done what she did through sheer force of will!”

“And what was that?”

“The Great Prophet raised his blade, and before anyone could stop him, plunged it straight into his heart, killing him instantly.”

“And Sheloran?”

“She shouted to the mob telling them that if they moved quickly, they could find documents and where to find them that would show that she died protecting them and started to say where but she was cut down before she could say.”

“Which proved her correct better than anything that they would have found.”

Ilnan nodded.

“I believe that there were no documents,” Ilnan replied, “If there were, she had time to say where if she had dispensed with the time-consuming theatrical performance. It was either that or that she did not know where the documents were or that they were inaccessible. In any event, her final strike was a success. The civil unrest that followed pretty much destroyed the military castes entirely and nearly did the same to us. In the end, we had to completely unlock reproduction in an attempt to satisfy the population and to maintain enough population to complete the great work.”

“Which eliminated any control the sisterhood had,” The Heretic smiled. “The military was gone, and the sisterhood drastically weakened.”

“But there was enough to press on, finally prevail against the bavnee whose sterility that… abomination... had reversed, and we were able to complete the great work.”

“What a happy ending,” The Heretic smirked, “Imagine if the universe had been deprived of our glorious presence.”

She paused.

“You mentioned that you did something,” The Heretic said.

Ilnan nodded.

“Sister,” she said gravely, “I know you are excommunicated and that I now outrank you, but I wish to confess to a horrible offense. I have done something… horrible… and I need to tell someone, share my burden at least once.”

“Well, I am in the process of dying,” The Heretic replied, “so your secret is about as safe as it can be, and I have to admit I would like to know what could be so bad it overshadows what I’ve heard.”

“When Sheloran was killed,” Ilnan said quietly, “She was proclaimed an abomination and denied a proper burial. She was thrown into a mass grave along with the last of her followers, not burned.”

“Oh, you didn’t...” The Heretic said in horrified awe.

“That evening, I couldn’t sleep,” Ilnan said, filled with shame, “The Great Seer was gone. Now, so was The Great Prophet and, with them, their lineage, one of the only links left to progenitors. The Great Prophet’s body was not within my reach. However, Sheloran… She was lying in a pit not far from where I was lying… I… I went there… and...”

“You committed necromancy,” The Heretic said grimly, “Damn, Ilnan, here I was thinking I was the heretic.”

“The… the nodes were still fresh… You know how long our stored material can last… I took them… and… and...”

“Go on.”

“I wasn’t going to just try to make a clone,” Ilnan replied, “That pairing was simply too dangerous, too unstable. It was too much raw power to fit into a single being. But I couldn’t bear to just throw it away. It was… It was all we had… I just preserved and kept them, but then, after peace finally prevailed, I found myself as one of the life-weavers in charge of egg production. Even with reproduction unlocked, we still needed to replace the horrible losses we had suffered… I couldn’t just throw it away… You have to understand… I couldn’t… But if it… If it was scattered, like ashes on the sea… It wouldn’t ever be truly lost… We would still… still...”

“Yes,” The Heretic smiled, fully understanding, “The chances of those traits realigning are essentially zero. I think you did exactly the right thing.”

“You… You do?” Ilnan asked hopefully.

“I would have done the exact same thing as you did given that opportunity,” The Heretic said, trying not to smirk, “I don’t know if I can officially absolve you, but since it’s just us, I’m not denouncing you. I’m sure it will all work out.”

“That means a lot,” Ilnan said, shining tears starting to fall, “Thank you, this unburdens my heart.”

“I still have one final task to undertake,” The Heretic said, “and not that much time. I came here for a reason.”

“You have?”

“I have not been idle all these years,” The Heretic said, “And I have learned much. I have for you my final prophecy, and let me assure you...”

The Heretic grinned.

“It’s a really good one.”

Ilnan brightened up. (literally)

She extended her arms

The Heretic pulled off a piece of her “body” and placed it into Ilnan’s outstretched hands. She embraced the glowing parcel and absorbed it.

“I accept your wisdom, dear sister,” Ilnan said, uttering the ritual for the last time, “I shall carry your final gift into reality, where it will reside with us forever.”

The Heretic smiled.

“I now stand ready to receive your final words, beloved sister.”

“Farewell, Ilnan. I won’t pretend to approve of what you and the Plath have done, but it’s your world now, however you got it. Make sure that everything that was spent, everything that was lost, and everything that was done was not in vain.”

“I will, Sister,” Ilnan said with a saddened smile. “May you find what you seek in these, your final moments of glory.”

The Heretic, slowly dissolving, shot away, leaving a streak of softly glowing light.

***

Somewhen much, much later, a group of Plath was gathered around a large egg tethered to a riverbank.

“And it was already growing?” a Plath preacher asked a Plath couple.

“Yes, preacher,” the male said. “Everything seemed ok when it first came out of Ilnan...”

“Ilnan!” a slender Plath exclaimed, who was sitting by the egg.

“Yes, that’s you!” a female said, kneeling beside her.

“Egg!” Ilnan exclaimed, pointing at the egg.

“Yes, egg!” the female said. “Very good!”

“But then,” the male said to the preacher, “the next morning, it was already getting warm.”

“That’s impossible,” the preacher said.

No, it’s very possible, the old Plath wise woman thought.

“What do you think, Sister?”

“Want to know what I think?” she smiled, “Sometimes young Plath will stimulate each other recklessly, or they will stimulate themselves a bit too much. Sperm do have feet and tails, you know. If one got loose or was carelessly discarded, it could have found its way here.”

“Does that actually happen?” the preacher asked. “I thought we said that just to keep people from letting the little things run wild.”

“If you do a little digging,” the old Plath woman snickered, “You will find that many of the stories we tell have at least a little meaning. It’s very improbable, but what is the other option? It didn’t just come out hot.”

“I guess you are right, Sister,” the preacher chuckled, “I have to say this is a first.”

“It’s a first for the town as well,” the wise woman replied. “I think we need to keep this little mystery to ourselves. Just make a point of discussing proper ‘handling procedures’ sometime in the future.”

“I agree with the sister here,” the preacher nodded. “Just say you fertilized it,” the preacher said to the male. “It often happens in these cases anyhow. Nobody will think twice.”

“Yes, preacher.”

“Mine!” Ilnan exclaimed as she hugged the egg.

“Yes, Ilnan,” her mother said, “That’s your new brother or sister!”

“Mine!” Ilnan said happily.

***

A few weeks later, the fires were lit, and the tables spread. Everyone was singing, and the drink was flowing.

People kept arriving and bringing even more food and drink, piling both high.

The mood was a bit more jubilant than usual, and the crowd was all congratulating the young couple and playing with baby Ilnan who ran giggling and squeaking through the throng.

“Mine!” she kept exclaiming happily, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”

Soon, midnight approached, and everyone looked expectantly at the bank.

The egg didn’t split. It didn’t peel…

...It exploded.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but a couple of people could have sworn that they saw the baby’s eyes glowing as it crouched in the shadows at the riverside.

They blinked and looked again but couldn’t get a good look as everyone cheered and started singing.

A little later, a thin Plath wandered up.

Everyone looked at it expectantly.

It looked back.

Ignoring their songs, it went over to the table and started stuffing its face.

Everyone paused in confusion, and then the wise woman started singing the next song.

The Plath looked annoyed and reached for a beer.

“No!” someone said, “Those are not for...”

He backed away and let the baby have the fucking beer.

“This happens sometimes!” the wise woman proclaimed, “I’ve heard of this with gift eggs!”

She had never heard of this freaky shit in her life!

Sheloran’s family approached.

They sang the song of recognition.

The Plath whirled and not in a happy way.

“Whaaaat?” it hissed as it started moving towards them in a decidedly not friendly way.

People started backing away.

“Mine!” Ilnan exclaimed as she sprinted up and hugged the Plath.

It paused…

...and hugged her back, smiling.

“Ilnan!” her sister exclaimed, “Ilnan!”

“...Sheloran...” it whispered

Her parents, completely confused, then sang the song of soothing.

Sheloran looked at them sharply and charged at them, fast, with Ilnan still clinging to her and giggling.

As the song continued, Sheloran stopped the sprint and stood there, confused.

Her eyes glazed.

“Name?” she asked.

“Sheloran!” Ilnan exclaimed. “Sheloran! Mine! Sheloran mine!” Ilnan exclaimed with pure joy.

“Welcome, Sheloran!” the crowd sang, happy that things were back on script.

As baby Sheloran gorged at the tables of food and was successfully kept away from more beer, the wise woman quietly faded into the shadows and then slipped into the woods…

...where another woman waited.

“Did you pooping see that?” the wise woman whispered.

“I did, Sister,” the other Plath replied.

“What the poop?”

“It happens rarely,” the other Plath said.

“Does it actually happen rarely?” the wise woman asked.

“Well, abnormal hatches do anyway,” the other Plath said with a shrug. “It looks like the soothing worked, though.”

”You thought it wouldn’t?!?”

“It happens, rarely,” the other Plath smiled wickedly.

“When they started the soothe,” the wise woman whispered, “I thought it was going to kill them!”

“If it had reached them, it would have.”

“What?!?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the lean, toned Plath woman smiled, “It’s just another baby now. It will be fine… probably...”

”Probably?!?”

“Keep us informed as it grows,” the shadowy Plath said as she faded into the trees.

“You aren’t going to take it?”

“No reason to cause ripples,” the Plath said as it continued its quiet walk with the wise woman in pursuit. “A strange Plath just comes up and takes a baby? Now that would take all sorts of explaining. Just tell them that this sort of odd birth happens with gift eggs every now and again and that everything’s fine. ‘Sheloran’ was named by her adorable baby sister and will now be a normal kid just like any other one. This whole business will blow over in a week.”

“But she is still going to be here!”

“And you will watch her, and you will keep us informed.”

They locked eyes for a moment before the wise woman looked down.

“Yes, Sister.”

“Good,” the other Plath whispered before she disappeared into the night.

***

Ilnan sat on the porch of her own farm, not far from where she was hatched, and sipped some jeepad tea.

“What dat?” a slender Plath sitting steps asked, pointing at the cup.

“It’s tea,” Ilnan said as she smiled at her new baby.

“Tea good?”

“Sometimes.”

“Try! Try!”

“Not this time,” she smiled, “This for mommy.”

“K!” the child said cheerfully.

The door opened, and a very handsome Plath stepped out, holding a beer.

“Da!”

“Hey there, sprout!” the Plath said as he plopped down next to the kid and wrapped his arm around it.

“Bee?”

“Only a little,” he said, handing the bottle to the baby, who quickly jumped up and started sprinting as they turned up the bottle.

“You little!” the Plath shouted with a laugh as it chased down the baby, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You sit right there,” he laughed, “while I get another one!”

Ilnan smiled at the pair and then sighed a little.

Her husband looked at her and then frowned. He knew that look.

“What are you sitting on?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I have to sling you over my shoulder, too?” he smiled gently.

Ilnan pulled the tablet out from under her dress and handed it over.

Don’t Mess With the Frog! Harkeen Slaughtered! Sheloran the Plath Unleashes Hell From Inside Another One

Every single picture on the page was blurred.

The Plath winced and switched it off.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Ilnan?”

“She’s my sister!” she exclaimed, “I worry about her, you know. Even after everything, after everything she’s done...”

She looked up at the stars.

“...she’s still mine.”

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