Auria

Chapter 18 - The General

“Where are we?” asked Auria.

She stood with crossed arms behind the small, gray pilot, both peering into an enormous picture window.  She walked forward and touched one of the bright dots, her finger passing through it as she found herself standing among the dots, gazing down upon a huge, brown sphere.  She slowly backed away.

The half-sized, gray alien laid reclined in a small chair with tiny armrests, huge eyes fixed upon everything, yet nothing.  Whenever the little fellow moved, the chair moved, staying in constant contact with his body.

“Your chair?” she asked.  “How does it work?”
“Questions?” asked the short, gray alien.

His head nudged slightly to the rear, signaling for Auria to think about leaving the room.  She casually walked away and rejoined the others, arms still crossed, but slightly confused.

“So, what's his name?” asked 238.
“Don't think he has a name.”
“Where are we?”
“There's a huge, brown circle floating out there.”
“That's a planet.” said Gen.  “How did you learn he had no name when you were only with him for a few seconds?”
“Something tells me so.”
“Something?” he crossed arms.  “Did he speak to your mind?  What, exactly, did he say?”
“Nothing.  I just know.  I'll call him Bob... if that pleases him.”

Gen huffed and turned a circle of steps, but found nowhere else to go within the two-roomed ship.  238 held wide eyes on Auria while the ape, Sot, remained stuffed inside a clear crate; with even more crates stacked atop its lid.  His attention remained focused on one, singular task.

“It's getting harder to breath in here.” said Sot.
“I can't hear you.” said Gen.
“Don't you dare pull that crap.” said Auria.  “He's our guest and...  I think you owe him your respect.  Question...” she turned toward the crate and paused.  “Sot... how can you have two personalities living inside you?”
“And, how do you not?” said Sot.
“Why do you want to kill us?  I mean, what did we do to you?”
“Because, I represent the Arena and the Master races who own everything you know and shall ever see.  It's only a matter of principle, nothing personal.”

Sot sat on his enormous, red buttocks and rubbed an aching knee.  The frown on his face revealed much about his demeanor and his notorious level of self-discipline.  He saw a reflection from inside the box and tried to make himself appear more in-hospitable by frowning harder.  His stare stiffened, hazed with hatred and ultimately, regret.

“Don't be so hard on yourself.” said Auria.
“It's not myself I worry for.  It's my people.  You see, I was once a Leader, a General over the great Armies of a combined force of Teulurians.  We'd already conquered a dozen star systems before the Pravan Empire stopped us and now, my people lay scattered over a hundred systems, as per protocol.”
“Whatever you just said, it would worry me too.”

He turned away, trying to let her know he needed time to himself.  Auria stepped closer to the clear crate and slammed a fist against it.  He didn't move.  She shook the crate, trying to illicit another response.

“Let's stop teasing the monkey.” said Gen.  “You're breaking his poor heart.”
“But, he's so sad.” said Auria.  “Maybe, we should cheer him up.”
“If he escapes and kills you, who would be sad then?” he winked.

Gen stuck out his bottom lip and held it there, then pried his eyelids open with two fingers.  She leaned and punched him in the chest again, further hurting Gen's wounds.  He backed away and sat down, one hand to his heart, the other on the floor.

“I'm not sorry about it this time.” she spat.  “How many of your clones died back there... so we could escape?”
“Don't know.” he blurted.  “All of them?”
“You anus.  And, how dare you evoke my name, telling them to die for me.”
“We're alive, aren't we?”
“Bob.” she said, heading into the next room.  “Where are we going?”

The small alien spun around in his chair, closed eyes and smiled with tiny lips puckered in distress.

“Home.” he said.

The dimly-lit view-screen shown a vast field of grass raking back and forth in the breeze.  Herds of flying insects and long, leaping reptilians lunged or flew to escape from beneath the ship as it slowly touched down.  Sot's crate nudged and rocked, knocking over the heavy crates on top.  He reached with a long, bony finger and poked the lid, peeking to see clearly into the next room.

“Home.” said Sot.

Everyone made way to the front and gazed into a beautiful horizon.  An orange-purple sun glared across the screen, gleaming dawn's earliest shades of light.  Divided cloud-rows made for layer upon layer of a purple, red-orange and yellow haze, casting a similar shadow on everything below.

“The moon sets while the sun rises.” said Sot.  “After all these years, it's still the most beautiful sight in the galaxy.”

The motley crew failed to notice Sot running loose among them, all glaring soundly into an astral abyss.  In the distance, remnants of mud huts rose from the ground littered in standing mounds of insect homes.

Everything seemed speckled by tiny, flying creatures of every shape and size.  Movement occurred at every angle; although minuscule, the collective masses caused need for alarm.  Wave upon wave of gently-blowing grasses echoed a colorful mood, spurning rainbows of tinted portraits sweeping across the floating prairie.  Life flourished in the sun's warming rays.

“This is where I was born.  Permission to depart?” asked Sot.

Sot touched his ringed finger.  The golden ring sparkled and caused the shining, silver spool to release from 238's belt buckle.  It quietly hovered and landed in the ape's spindly hand, growing to become the stiff walking-staff.  Small Bob raised an arm and lowered one finger, pointing to the door.  It slowly opened with a whooshing gust, replacing cabin air with freshly-drawn, morning dew.

“A taste of home.” said Sot, the first to exit, limping down the ramp.
“Smells like poop to me.” said Gen.
“You smell like poop.” said Auria.
“Yeah.” said 238.  “What she said.”

Gen smacked 238 in the back of the head when the two exited, followed by small Bob.  Insects began to swarm, rising high into the air and blotting out some of the light.  Bands of green and purple shadows cast a picture of the dawn's colorful sky.  Bob held a hand in front, allowing an insect couple to land on the tip of his finger.  He winked an eyelid and set them free in the cool breeze.  The sky continued to darken with insects.  Sot turned to speak, not noticing the thick, black wall of bugs at his backside.

“This was my home.” he said.  “My family lived here for many generations, as far back as I can remember, and... I have been alive for over three of your centuries.”

The sky gave way to patches and shades in the morning sun.  It transformed, showing wondrous, colorful scenes of Sot's people running and playing, farming and building, reflecting from prismatic wings flapping in the wind - millions of wings.  Gen, Auria and 238 watched in awe, amazed by the strange action high in the sky behind Sot's words.  Bob closed eyes and hummed while Sot continued.

“I remember my childhood like it was yesterday, learning skills from the old Masters, running and playing with friends and even falling in love for the first time.  I remember watching my Mother and Grand-Mother fight over who wanted to make dinner.  We had plenty to eat and grew everything we required in our riverside garden.”

Every scene of Sot's story played in the backdrop, including the two Teulurians physically fighting.  A young Sot joined in on the family beatings.  They watched Sot steal food from farmers, then being chased to his domicile by Teulurians flying atop huge birds.  Sot stole an officer's bird and sailed away with it, only to crash into a hut and tumble.  They saw him weeping - the bird suffered a broken neck.  The scenes shown a dark side of Sot's life – beyond mere words.

“I loved my home.  My childhood lasted many, many years.  But, this place became boring and uneventful, so I joined the Civil Defense Service.  There wasn't much someone with my intellect couldn't do, so I progressed through the ranks quickly.”

The scene changed to one of Sot being beaten, stealing a space ship and leading a chase into orbit, only to be beaten again.  They dragged a chained Sot down a long corridor only to whip him.  They saw Sot sitting in jail as he progressed in age, reading books and studying to better himself.  He suffered beatings by inmates and guards alike, mostly for mischievous acts and bad behavior.

“Eventually, I became a General Officer and finally, I became 'The General'.  Then, the war.  My soldiers fought valiantly, but failed.  The Pravan armada proved too advanced, tore through our defenses like we weren't even there.  They rounded up everyone for biological testing, burned cities to the ground and ruined our way of life.  The majority of my people died in prison camps, or worse.”

The humans knew from the insect scenes that Sot had been a prisoner up until the alien occupation, sitting in a jail-cell all by himself, only to sit inside an entirely new jail after the attack.  He eventually did rally his people, became the leader of a few prisoners on a ruined world.  There was no-one left to lead nor serve.  Auria cried for Sot, realizing some truths were just too much to reveal.

“I failed my people.” he continued.  “There wasn't anything I could have done.  After much torture and personal pain at the hands of the Pravans, I only survived by doing their bidding, doing what they asked me to do.”

The scene shown Sot laughing and dancing in a roomful of aliens, then leaning on his knees to declare allegiance.  He walked out of the prison compound and boarded a space-ship.  The building erupted in flames while the ship climbed higher and higher, Sot watching a view-screen, a Pravan hand upon his shoulder.  He turned and smiled.  Then, teardrop shaped lights dripped over the planet spreading rings of fire.  Sot looked onward.

The ape became an amusement for the Pravans; a jester, a clown in a sideshow for countless races of alien visitors.  With years of loyalty, eventually, he became the Arena-Master, the 'hand' of the higher beings for whom he'd served.  The story-scenes ended without Sot knowing the truth revealed itself.  Hordes of winged insects quietly returned to the grass fields.  The shadows receded, allowing a milky sunlight to warm faces and empty melted hearts.

“And so, I live.” said Sot.

He hobbled up a small hill, entering one of roof-less sets of weather-worn walls.  Everyone followed, noticing the older ape slowing and showing signs of distress.  He even tossed the cane aside and began to crawl.  Moaning, Sot stopped, rolled to his back and held his fat belly between long arms, grunting and gasping for breath.

“It's coming.  Leave me be.”
“What's coming, Sot?” asked Auria.  “What's wrong?”
“Get out.” he screamed.