I’m twelve years old and the Prince is fifteen. He’s a teenager, and him and his friends are old enough to go out into the Empire, go out to the lower planets of the galaxy, and enforce their rule. Enforce the will of the Empire with a firm, unyielding, brutal hand. He’s old enough to do his part to ensure that the Empire rules forever. And I’m old enough to go along with him and be whatever he needs.
The Prince is excited. The Prince is incredibly excited. He can’t wait to spill blood. To spill the blood of monsters and cause destruction in his wake. He had always loved violence in a blunt, brutal fashion that was at once undeniably elegant and completely lacking in any grace. And now, finally, he can unleash his violence out into the world, he can cause the death that he has been longing to cause ever since he was young.
The Prince’s friends are with him, along with his warrior girlfriend who is just as brutal and bloodthirsty as he is. They make an amazing pair. A terrifying pair. All battle and blood and violence, made manifest in flesh, in word and in deed. The world will tremble and cower before them one day. And, looking at them now, that day seems to be coming soon.
I feel so incredibly small. And I am incredibly small. Skinny and scrawny compared to all of their muscle and bulk. Compared to their weapons and their glory and their finely-tuned, deadly-tuned battle abilities. I have nothing compared to that. And, I am acutely aware of just how much danger I am truly in, just how much I have to make sure that I do whatever they say.
“We’ll make those savages pay!” the redhead friend declares.
“We will,” the Prince bellows, “even if we have to start a war to do it.”
“They should have considered our power before creating a resistance.” The girlfriend smiles.
I am sitting on the ground of the spaceship, my arm inside a magic extractor that is hooked up to all the weapons the Prince and his friends have brought along with them. I am charging them, so that they will be at full power when it’s time to finally unleash them on the resistance members.
It hurts. Of course it hurts, charging these weapons. It hurts each and every time that energy is extracted from me. My arm feels as if it is on fire. It feels as if it is burning from the inside out, from the outside in, and from every direction there is. I half want to just cut it off, not that I have any way to do that. But still, despite all of the hurt, I try not to listen to the conversation of the masters. It always hurts even more, to have to listen to them.
Yet despite my best efforts, their conversation still pierces my ears. And I have to sit here silent, silent, always silent as they talk on around me.
“I wonder why the savages thought they could make a resistance?” the light-brown-haired friend asks, “shouldn’t they know we could quash it in seconds?”
“They’re stupid, my brother,” the dark-brown-haired friend replies, “they’re stupid and they’re always thinking things that don’t make any sense, making plans that are unreasonable.”
I once again am reminded of how incredibly small, how incredibly scrawny and skinny I am compared to them.
———
I am trailing behind the group, carrying their extra weapons, as they stride through the streets. This is the first time I have been off the Home Planet. Well, the first time that I can remember. I know that I was born off planet. I know that I was born actually on this very same planet that we are on now. This very same planet that we are beating into submission.
The streets are much narrower here than on the Home Planet. The Prince’s group of warriors have to walk in two rows. The streets are also dusty. So very dusty. The dust is a strange deep brown colour that makes it almost beautiful. Not that anything about the Lower Planets is beautiful. All around the streets are dilapidated shacks made of crumbling clay, with thin sheets of metal on their roofs. It’s rather sad.
The Prince gets to a shack with a broken door.
“This is the one,” he states as he kicks down the door.
I catch a glimpse of the people inside through the small crowd in front of me. They look terrified. They look bedraggled. They look half-starved. Their eyes speak of a hunger beyond all words, and a weariness beyond all comprehension. They are scared. They are so very scared. And yet that fear cannot possibly come close to the fear that I have felt all of my life.
“Where are the resistance members?!” the Prince’s red-haired friend demands.
“Who?” a dark-eyed monster woman asks in broken Tirifian. She has skin as purple-dark as my own. They all do.
“The resistance members,” the Prince’s girlfriend presses, “where are they?”
“We don’t know of any resistance,” a young-looking girl speaks out slowly.
“Galking cavnish!” the Prince rages. “Like Hell you don’t!”
“I promise, your highness,” the girl asservates, “we don’t.”
“That’s not what our sources say,” the light brown-haired friend states coldly. There is the sharp edge of pure hatred in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” a man pleads, “we don’t know anything.”
What are these fools doing? Why are they not giving the Prince and his friends what they want? Are they idiots? Do they not know what this group is capable of? The death and the violence and the punishment that they will face from them? Do they not know what the penalties are for disobeying them? For disobeying the Empire, which the Prince is the chosen heir of? Do they not know how much danger they are in?
I feel bad for these monsters. I feel bad even though I know that I should not feel bad. Even though I know that it’s not my place. Monsters do not deserve pity. Especially monsters who are defiant, who go against the wishes of the Empire. I know this. I know all this yet. Yet. There is something inside of me that cannot stop feeling bad for these people, that cannot stop feeling dread at the horrible fate that undoubtedly awaits them.
They are … I could easily have been them. I could easily have been in their place. If the Emperor had not decided to have mercy upon me and take me into the Home Planet instead of leaving me to die in this accursed land, then I could easily have been one of the people in this room, showing both incredible fear and inexplicable courage in the face of the Prince and his friends.
They do not give up. Even though the warriors yell at them and threaten them with all kinds of horrors, the monsters do not give up. I am in awe of their bravery, as much as I am perturbed by it. How are they doing it? Perhaps it is because they are all together. Perhaps it is because they all have each other to take strength and inspiration from. Perhaps, if I had people behind me, if I had people supporting me, I could be as brave.
“You will tell us!” shouts the Prince, “You will tell us or you will be sorry that you ever dared to cross us!”
———
I am in pain. I am often in pain. But right now it does not matter that I am in pain. Right now it matters that the monster in front of me is in pain.
She is shackled to the dark metal prison hold of the spaceship. There are wires connecting to her neck, her chest, her stomach. Her hands are tied up above her and her feet are tied up below her, so that she is left hanging in the centre of the chains, body stretched to its limits. My heart pangs at seeing the sheer humiliation that she is being put through, never mind the pain.
Pain that I am responsible for.
Pain that only exists because I am sitting on the ground of the prison compartment, covered in wires, giving my magic to power the wires that send jolts of electricity arching through her body. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. She’s being hurt and it is my fault. Of course, I cannot defy the Prince. I could not say anything when he took me to this terrible room and told me to hook myself up to the torture device. But still, despite all that, my magic is causing her pain, so it’s still my fault.
I stare out in horror as she writhes and screams, twisting within her chains and swinging this way and that.
“You have to tell me who the resistance members are,” the Prince states in his rich, warm, haughty tone. He has turned off the electrical shocks for a moment, and he glares at the monster from his plush floating seat.
“Get sunk,” the girl spits back, defiance in her eyes.
At this he turns up the shocks again and the girl screams. She just screams, fiercely, hoarsely, brokenly, and it echoes through the darkened room. Hurt and desperate and crazed. I want to scream too. I feel as if everything she is feeling is echoing in my own heart. I know too well what pain is. I want her to stop screaming. I want us both to get out of this dreadful room, together, to get away from the dreadful Prince, together. But it doesn’t matter what I want.
“The only way to make the pain stop is to tell me what I want to know,” the Prince declares loudly, as the girl slumps down in her chains, savouring a moment of respite.
“I won’t tell you,” she spits back, “no matter how much you hurt me. Don’t you realize that you people hurt us every day to get your precious energy? I am used to pain.”
I have no idea how she’s holding on to this much defiance. I definitely agree that she has to obey the Prince, obey the Empire that he represents, but still. Still. I am absolutely awed by her strength and her courage. I have this strange, overwhelming sense of admiration for her, for all that she is being able to do. She’s protecting her people. In her mind, she is protecting her people. And I don’t have any people to protect. I have no idea how it feels to protect your people. But still, I admire what she is doing for her’s.
“You won’t be used to this pain,” the Prince replies, turning the shock dial up to the maximum.
The girl writhes and swears and screams herself hoarse. But still the Prince does not stop the horrible, many-wired machine. He doesn’t stop it and it keeps shocking her, with no breaks for her to rest and breathe in between. It keeps shocking her and it keeps taking magic from me and we both are in incredible pain, trapped here in the prison compartment of the metallic spaceship, companions in our suffering. But still, she is suffering quite a bit more than I am. I can only imagine everything that she is going through.
“If you don’t tell me, I will keep you under the shocks for hours,” the Prince threatens.
“Fine,” the girl pants out, “I will tell you.”
I knew that she would give in eventually. Nobody can withstand the might of the Empire. But still. Still. I feel let down and disappointed. As if I am watching something great and beautiful die.
———
I walk to the prison hold of the ship, and sneak open the door. There is a cup of gruel in my hands. A cup of the thick, tasteless slop that they make us eat, that is incredibly cheap to make, as I’ve learned from the books. The Prince and his friends have thought that it would be okay to feed the prisoners that they have captured. After all, they need to be alive for their trial. And they need to be alive to face whatever punishment the Emperor sets for them. And so it falls to me to deliver them their food.
I am almost afraid as I slip through the door and into the illuminated darkness within. I have never seen resistance members before. Not in real life. Not actually in front of my eyes. I wonder what they will be like. I wonder what they will think of me, a soft child growing up in the heart of the Empire, never thinking about rebellion. I wonder if they will judge me. I wonder if I will care. I know that I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care what a bunch of criminals think. But still. Still. They are almost heroic in a strange, inexplicable sense.
Inside the prison there is a large cage made out of plasma arranged in a neat grid. The bars of the cage glow brightly against the darkness, illuminating the five figures inside. Plasma bars are impossible to get through. Though I don’t know why the Prince and his crew used such a strong cage when the resistance members clearly don’t have anything with them that they could use to help themselves escape. I know that these bars are dangerous to touch, and I make sure to keep away from them just as the prisoners are keeping away from them.
“Hi,” I speak uncertainly.
“Hi, child,” a young woman with bright green eyes responds, looking at me kindly, which isn’t at all what I expected from her. I feel somewhat embarrassed. I am not used to kindness at all.
“I got you all some food,” I tell them, carefully pushing the cup through a space in the bars.
“Thank you,” an older woman replies, “your kindness is greatly appreciated.”
“It’s not my kindness,” I explain to her, “it’s the Prince and his companions who thought you should get food. See, they’re sure that you all will not be executed. You will only be imprisoned. The Empire is merciful. You should be grateful for the Empire’s mercy.”
They pause for a long moment at my words, looking at me with a strange sort of sympathetic look in their eyes that I can’t quite place.
“Child,” a young man, perhaps a teenager, speaks to me, “I hope that you never have to learn this lesson. But the Empire’s mercy is not our mercy.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him.
“We hope you never have to know,” another older woman replies.
“Anyways, child,” a person whose gender I am unsure of begins, “we’ve seen you following the Imperial soldiers around. What do you do?”
“I mostly just give them whatever they want and I do things for them,” I reply.
“That sounds like a thankless job,” the young woman tells me. “Do you have a family?”
“I don’t,” I answer honestly.
“How horrible!” The first older woman replies.
“Listen,” the young woman tells me, “I’m going to give you a communication disk that you can communicate to your home planet on. Hide it from the Imperials and use it, okay?”
She makes herself gag until she throws up, and a tiny disk the size of my finger falls to the floor. This she carefully maneuvers through the bars. She drops it in my hands.
I am completely flabbergasted. I have no idea how to respond. So I just take the small disk and I hide it in my clothes. I am aware that I am defying my masters. But still. Still. I have to do this. I don’t know why.
———
It’s night time. I have no idea why I am doing this. I have no idea why I am daring to do this. But I feel curious, oh so very curious. I guess curiosity has always been my biggest weakness. I guess curiosity will eventually be the end of me. It doesn’t matter though. Not in this moment when thoughts are scraping at my guts and the desire to know something, anything at all about my home planet, that isn’t from the perspective of the Empire, this desire overwhelms me to the point of madness. Pure madness.
I guess I have always been crazy. The Emperor has often said that it’s important to have a clear and rational mind. But what can I do? What can I do except for give in to it? I have tried to resist it before. I have tried to resist it with everything that I have before. But the call to insanity is just too much, it’s just too consuming, it’s just too forceful, it’s just too undeniable. I am a monster after all, and that means that of course I have some monstrous tendencies, some feelings that I cannot avoid, some pulls that I cannot fight. I am not calm and rational like the Emperor or the Empress or the Prince. I am not them and there is no way that I could ever be them. So all that is left for me to do is to be me.
I hide deep in the library, in the darkness where there is no-one. And, with wide eyes and bated breath, I turn on the communication disk. There is this strange, tense buzzing inside my chest as I flip through the holographic controls of the disk, keeping the volume set at minimum so that there is no chance of anyone overhearing me. The world feels tense, as if it is on the razor-edged precipice of something unimaginable, something inexpressible. I have to remind myself to breathe, as my stomach ties itself into knots. I find the contact list of the disk. And I select the first contact on the list with my finger. It makes the call. Everything relies on what happens now.
Three. Two. One.
“Hello,” a voice whispers out into the darkness, “this is resistance messenger Arji Meminda speaking. Who are you?”
“I …” I don’t know what to say. I just stare at her deep purple face and darker purple hair. She’s beautiful. She’s beyond beautiful. I never thought a monster could be so beautiful.
“Hi.” Her tone becomes more gentle once she sees my obvious hesitation. “Who are you, little one?”
“I … they call me Ikkret.”
“Ikkret. That’s a beautiful name. A Jolrish name. Who gave it to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you a boy or a girl, Ikkret? Or maybe you’re both? Or neither?”
“I … they say I’m a boy but I don’t always feel like a boy.”
“What do you feel like?” Her words are full of compassion.
“It changes from time to time. How about you, Arji?”
“I’m a girl. Why are you calling me?”
“I don’t know. Some prisoners that the Imperials captured, they gave me this disk. They said to use it.”
“And are you interested in joining the resistance?”
“No. I’m … the Emperor and his family have been the only family I have ever known. I couldn’t betray them.”
“Will you tell them about the resistance? About me?”
“No, I won’t.” I don’t know why I tell her this but it’s the truth.
“I’d like to be your family. Would you like to count me as part of your family?”
“I … okay.” There is something stirring in my heart. Something that feels almost like … almost like … I don’t know, but it feels sweet and bright and good, and it feels better than anything I have ever felt before.
“So are you from Jolria?” she asks.
“I am but … I got taken up to the Home Planet as a baby.”
“That must have been so hard for you. I can teach you about your true home planet if you want me to.”
“I’ve already seen books about it.”
“Imperial books are full of lies and propaganda. I can tell you the truth.”
“Would you?” I whisper hopefully.
“I sure would.”
———
I go through my day like normal after that fateful night. I obey the family. I get things for them. I stand silently behind them. I let the machines harvest my magic. It’s harsh. Like always, it’s incredibly harsh. My heart hurts and my body hurts and my soul hurts. Not that monsters have souls. But still. Still. The monsters that I have seen so far have been far more soulful than any of the Imperials have been. They’ve been much more passionate. Much more courageous. Much more kind.
I think about all the people I have met during my journey with the Prince. The brave people who held out for as long as they could under torture. The resilient people who stayed strong even as they were captured, even as they were caged like wild animals. The kind people who treated me as if I mattered, who treated me as if I was actually a person, with an equal right to dignity and respect. With an equal right to care and kindness and consideration. And of course, I think about Arji, who made me feel more seen and known and wanted and accepted than I have ever felt in my life.
It was like a dream, talking to her. It was better than a dream. She saw me. And she saw me as a person. And she saw me as a child. She saw me as someone who was meant to be loved and cherished and cared for and protected. She saw me as something beyond a mere tool and servant. She saw me as a child. And she saw all the hurting inside me. She saw all the wants and the needs and the emotions I have been forced to bite down on and keep secret. She saw the way that I was absolutely burning up inside, the way that I was imploding into myself and slowly chipping away at the bedrock of who I am.
She made me stronger. I am not quite sure how, but she made me stronger. And she made me more able to withstand all the tribulations of my day. Not that I am alright. No, I am far from alright. Every time I have to bite my tongue and do as I was told, I die inside. But still, there is something within me that can hold on. There is something within me that tells me that joy does exist for me, joy can exist for me, and I deserve the joy in my life. Even if I am a monster, I deserve joy.
And so I serve and I grovel and I bow. And I stay silent and I bite my tongue. And I hurt, immensely, immeasurably, indescribably. Inside and out. And I keep my secret. I keep it deep within me, where no-one can ever find it. And I make sure to hide everything that I am feeling, as I always do. I make sure to hide my sorrow and my anguish, as I always must. But I make sure to hide my joy and my hope, because no-one is allowed to find out, and no-one is allowed to even suspect that anything might be amiss. I behave as the perfect slave, as I always do. And I don’t let anyone even guess that something might have changed in me.
But something has changed in me. Something great has changed.
———
I sit on a plush chair in the library. It is as dark all around me as I am. And it is time to talk with Arji.
“Hi Ikkret,” she whispers to me, faintly smiling.
“Hi Arji. How are you?”
“Not too good, my child. They made me give them my magic all day. As they always do. Those forsaken Imperials and their stupid technology that runs on stupid magical energy. Why can’t they just harvest energy from the stars and leave us alone?”
“Star energy is too difficult to control,” I reply, “using it would be too expensive.”
“And torturing the people of seven planets is somehow worth saving money?” she retorts.
“We’re monsters. It’s not like our feelings matter.”
“That’s a load of bigle dung, Ikkret, it’s just propaganda.”
“It’s what I’ve been taught by the Emperor and Empress. Why would they lie to me?”
“Because they’re greedy and racist, Ikkret, and they wouldn’t know the truth if it bit them in the bottom.”
“Arji, don’t say that. They may not be perfect, but they saved me. I was left in an abandoned building during the Great Rebellion of 5670. I was a baby. I would have died if the Emperor had not found me.”
She is silent at that for a moment.
“Ikkret,” she finally voices, “I think that was a lie told to make you more obedient. I’ll tell you of what truly happened during the Great Rebellion of 5670.”
“Okay. What happened?”
“Lots of people were out in the streets fighting. We thought that it was finally the day when we would become free. Parents with young children and babies were also out fighting too. In order to win for their young ones a better life.”
“So do you think my parents were off fighting?”
“They probably were.”
“So why did they abandon me to go off to war?”
“That’s the thing, Ikkret, they didn’t. See, all the children and the babies were left at the temples with a few caretakers to look after them. We thought that the temples were safe. We thought that the Imperial soldiers would not go into them, for they were holy sites meant to be guarded from any war. We made an agreement with them that they would not go into the temples.”
“So what happened? Why did the Emperor end up with me?”
“That’s the thing. The Empire didn’t honour the agreement. They raided the temples, once they had won the war. See, the Empire loves to loot and pillage. They take whatever they can once they’ve won a war. But our planet was so poor, we didn’t have anything worth taking. We didn’t have anything except people. So, the Imperial soldiers raided the temples and took whatever children they wanted, took them crying and screaming from their caretakers’ arms.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It was. I was there in the temples. I was just a small child. It was chaos. It was screaming. It was desecration. They thankfully did not take me, but my brother was not so lucky.” She wipes tears from her eyes.
“So do you think I was taken during all of that?”
“I think you were.”
I sit there in silence for a long, long time, as thoughts rush through my head.
“Who do you think my parents are?” I finally say.
“I do not know,” she replies. “But I think they might have given you the name Ikkret. I can try to find them for you if you want.”
“Will you try?” There is a whine of hope in my voice.
“I will. I’m sure they miss you. We all pray for the taken children every day.”
“Thank you, Arji.”
“Think nothing of it, young one.”
“So …” I pause to think. “Can I join the resistance?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” she asks me.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You don’t have to join the resistance just because I’m helping you. I’ll help you anyways.”
“No, I want to join. I don’t want those baby-stealing Imperials to win.”
“I don’t either.”
“So what can I do?”
“What do you feel comfortable with doing?”
“I could spy on the Emperor and his family for now. That would be easy.”
“That would be really great. We could use that information a lot.”
We continue talking into the night. And, for once in my life, I don’t feel quite so much like a monster.
———
I stand in attendance to the Emperor as he calls his council members. Their faces float throughout the rooms in holograms. The Emperor is floating around on his plush chair strewn with many furs from strange and exotic creatures hunted all over the galaxy. The council members are talking with high importance in their voices. They are discussing important matters. They are discussing stately matters. Matters that are classified, that not even the people of the Home Planet are allowed to know about.
Usually I try my best to not listen. I try my best to think my own miserable thoughts. But today it is different. Today I am on a mission. A mission for my people. A mission for my galaxy.
“The population of Nilarda is getting too high,” a general states, “it is becoming too much for our soldiers to control.”
“Could we perhaps station more Imperial soldiers there?” another general suggests.
“No, we need our soldiers where they are,” a council member states.
“Isn’t more monsters just a greater source of energy?” a councillor asks.
“We don’t have the manpower to use that energy,” another replies. “It would just be extra, wasted energy.”
“We could pour poison into their water source,” the Emperor explains, “so that their new babies take ill and die.”
The council discusses this for a while, debating back and forth the pros and cons of the plan. I keep listening, because I have to, but oh my gods it is so very disturbing. They are talking about people’s lives, people’s communities, as if they were just pawns in a sort of twisted game. As if their lives didn’t matter, their love didn’t matter, their grief didn’t matter. It’s all a game of politics to them. It’s all a game of hegemony.
I would have been on their side a few days ago. I would have thought of the safety of the Empire. I would have thought of how necessary it was to never have more people than the guards could control. I wouldn’t like it. I wouldn’t like it at all. And I would feel that something was deeply and bitterly wrong. But I would think the things that I have been taught to think all my life. And I would not question it. Does that make me a monster like all these powerful figures? Or does that make me a scared child trying desperately to please my captors? I don’t know.
“So it is decided, then,” the Emperor declares, “we will send poison from the Ashophor into the water sources of the slaves, when they are all busy at work.”
I have to tell the resistance this. To see if they can save the people.
————————
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