Ulan takes down Dexter Reed (v2)
May. 25th, 2011 03:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
loloteheSlugs crawl and crawl over our cabbages, like the world's slander over a good name. You may kill them, it is true, but there is still the slime.
--Douglas Jerrold
The Hemicircle was in chaos.
Two-hundred bolathames, in full regalia, were shouting at each other. The Puax vainly called for order.
"It's preposterous!" Bolathane Nguyen yelled. "Half of us were born on ships! This is just a power-grab of the most gross fashion!"
"And how can someone who was not born nor bred here even try to understand our needs?" Bolathane Reed shouted back.
Not born nor bred, a low chant started. Not born nor bred....
"Order!" the Puax raised its volume. The form had inflated to twice its regular size. "I demand order!"
"He'll want the colonists off next!" Bolathane Moff shouted. "You think this is the only planet that has problems? You've already seen what's happening on Ursus Major-47. You think that won't spread if you kick them out?"
A clutch of visiting bolathanes started to shout and clap their hands.
Ulan watched the entire nauseating process and finally stood. "The Puax demands order! Let's start a real debate!"
"Bug-lover!" someone yelled.
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Wainwright said. "We're never going to vote until we have order!"
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Bernal shouted.
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Jurney added.
The upper-house was now divided into two competing chants.
"We're supposed to be the voice of stability!" Ulan shouted. "Are we having this debate or not?"
The Hemicircle slipped into a moment's quiet.
Bolathane Reed stood. "I have proposed a change to rules of order. You all know what it is."
"We don't know why." Bolathane Moff stood. "It serves no purpose. To ask for that, right after the anniversary, is just insult to injury."
"We ask to assuage the fears of our citizens," Reed said. "We have no proof of citizenship from those born on ships. When someone could go into space and suddenly come back with a new personage, there have to be questions."
Foot stomping followed that. "He's a VT!"
"I do not ask on behalf of the Vencume Truth organization," Reed continued. "I ask on behalf of humans everywhere."
"What does Bolathane Reed consider a human?" Bolathane Jurney asked. "Should it look like him, round and red?"
Laughter.
"If you want to say it's to prevent non-humans," Bolathane Moff said, "you'll need to give a definition."
"Is it to insist on some kind of pedigree?" Bolathane Wainwright asked. "Don't we have testing for that? You want to know who our parents are?"
Bolathane Reed was turning bright red. "There must be no meddling. We must know what we are dealing with."
Bolathane Eugen from Peg-51 stood. "Will the gentleman object to me being short?"
Bolathane Silva from Leonis-83 stood. "Will the gentleman object to my golden eyes?"
"What is a human?" Bolathane Moff asked. "By what standard does the gentleman measure us?"
"Why fielders?" Bolathane Wainwright asked. "Is it because the shipping families lived there?"
"Why not the stations as well?" Bolathane Jurney asked.
The stations are sedentary," Bolathane Reed said.
Bolathane Smith stood. "Yes, I question the colonies. I think their interests are not the same as ours. Bolathane Moff makes an excellent example with Ursus Major-47."
"Damn bears!" someone shouted.
"Stuff it!" Bolathane MacMahon from Ursus Major-47 stood. "Let's see you mine ore like that! We provide you with raw materials and you bleed us dry!"
"You tax us too greatly!" Bolathane Hiraku from Cancri-55 said. "We must be allowed to develop! We provide food for your cities and you give us a pittance!"
Ulan stood. "Maybe it would be best to kick the colonies out of the Hemicircle, before they see that things are not as bad here now as when they left."
The visiting bolathanes clapped, knowing that a foot-stomp would not broadcast.
"What of your overpopulated cities?" Bolathane Silva from Leonis-83 asked. "What of your starving peoples?"
"Show the man a feed!" someone shouted. "Bring him over for a rail ride!"
Bolathane Jones stood. "There are still floods in the Wymont basin. We cannot produce wheat at the same levels as before. The rice that used to grow in Denliquin might never come back."
Ulan leaned back and let them argue grain.
"Assembled personages!" Ulan stood. "I bring a visitor for this debate. Will you allow?"
Bolathane Randi stood. "Who is this visitor?"
"I bring Steve Hoffer from the station MeiHe," Ulan announced. "I bring a portman."
"How do you vote?" the Puax asked.
A moment's silence.
"Motion passes," the Puax said. "No abstentions."
Steve Hoffer appeared in the center of the Hemicircle, sitting long cross-legged. He raised a hand. "Hey, chubby-stubbys."
"Pointless distractions!" someone shouted.
"You got rude chubby-stubbys," Steve said. "Don't say hi when a hi's given."
"Hi, Steve," Ulan said. "Good's you come in. We got big talks."
Bolathane Jurney stood. "We have a portman. Does the gentleman think this is not human?"
Steve's eyes opened wide. "What's not human? Who's talking that?"
"A portman is a human," Bolathane Reed said. "I never said they weren't."
"But would you allow him on a vote?" Jurney asked. "I ask the Puax how that went."
"Bolathane Reed voted in the nay," the Puax reported.
"Homo sapiens-sapiens," Steve said. "Homo deus, homo deux. Chubby-chubby-stubby wants to marble the big blue and everyone's gonna get in tight. No ships, no digitation."
A shout. "Ask him to make sense!"
Bolathane Bernal stood. “If you'd ever been off-world, it would make perfect sense!”
Steve rubbed his temples with long fingers. "Been doing the deep dig. Got it all on this one. Got the corn that needs to move and the Authority says to get the ships-kids off the vote. Lots of interest there. Can't let the ships-kids know what you're asking."
“Lies!” Bolathane Reed shouted.
"Lots of distractions," Steve went on. "Got a chair in the corner for chubby-chubby-stubby 'cause of the price of corn."
"Cut funding to the Authority!" someone shouted. There was a stamping of feet.
Bolathane Wainwright stood. "So, the good gentleman has entered the rule change because of outside pressure. How does the gentleman answer to this?"
The Puax stood forward. "A bolathane may not be influenced by an outside party. A bolathane shall be from an established family and shall prove the means to be immune to influence. It is the purpose of the upper-house to provide stability. The upper-house and its members will not be bought nor sold. Bolathane, the blade that cuts through the darkness."
"Bolathane," the Hemicircle chanted, "the steel that will not rot or change. Bolathane, the weight that holds us accountable."
A militant sound beside her, and Paul turned suddenly to see the bolathanes next to him drawing their blades.
The bolathane: that wide, dull, stupid piece of metal they all wore. Throughout the Hemicircle, half-meter long blades emerged from their scabbards, held at attention before the men and women who had been elected by the most powerful families in the galaxy. Held aloft, by those who had proven themselves rich and powerful enough to stand outside of whim and public opinion.
And those same men and women pointed those wide, dull pieces of metal at Bolathane Reed and frowned.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded!"
Ulan gripped the handle of her own bolathane but did not draw it.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded! The blade that breaks shall be discarded!" The chant filled the Hemicircle.
Two dressers had entered the Hemicircle and unwound the robes of state from Dexter Reed. Ulan's dressers. It was as if she was doing it herself.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded!"
Paul glanced at Ulan across the Hemicircle. Her eyes, heavily done in the proper ceremonial makeup, had an inhuman quality to them. She looked like a puppet.
Ulan sat in her dressing room, waiting on the visit from Steve Hoffer.
The portman appeared, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Hey, family.”
“Don't 'hey, family' me,” Ulan growled. “Why didn't you warn me?”
“Warn on what?” the portman said. “Did a big dig and found a few. You said to ghost down, so I did.”
She paced in the room, clutching the hilt of her bolathane. “There's big talks and there's kill talks. That was kill talks out there. Never even demanded you show proofs. That feel right? That words' all it take?”
“I like your hat,” Steve said.
“Hells on a hat!” Ulan shouted. “You did a sneak-sneak on me and you're not here grass-side for after-party. I'm getting death whispers. I didn't bring you in to sgian dubh him!”
Steve blinked a couple times. “What's sgian dubh?”
“Black knife,” Ulan hissed. “Sneak death, you with?”
“Not with on a sneak death.” Steve shook his head. “Sneak anything is bad deal. Big hats got it weird.”
Ulan fell into the chair in the room. “Yeah, big hats got a lot of sneak. Grass-side's got a lot of sneak.”
“Sneak-side,” Steve said. “Didn't feel right, but felt good. You got poison on you.”
“I'm just unhappy because I thought we'd defeat a rule change, not destroy a man. It's not your fault. I should have known.”
There was a knock at the dressing room door.
“More big hats,” Steve said.
“You watch and record.” Ulan pointed at him. “Kill talk, you with?”
“Finger on the button,” Steve answered.
Paul was waiting outside the room. Ulan rushed out, grabbing his jacket and forcing him against the wall.
“You knew what would happen!” she hissed.
Paul's eyes were perfectly round. “Where are your dressers?”
She gave him another shove. “Who cares? You knew what was going to happen in the Hemicircle and you let me do it. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“You can't wear that outside of the Hemicircle,” Paul said.
She gave him a sharp jab to the ribs. “Answer me. You knew what was going to happen, didn't you?”
“Ulan...” Paul held up his hands. “You can't wear that outside of the Hemicircle.” He pointed at the wide blade on her left hip. “I'll wait here, I promise. Go get changed. You're not allowed to wear your robes of state out here.”
Fuming, she went back to the dressing room. The bolathane was thrown at its case, the sash across the floor.
“That a black knife?” Steve asked.
“Might as well be,” Ulan answered, unwrapping herself from the robe. “Dull, stupid blade. Wide and dumb.”
Steve nodded. “You got neat eyes.”
She sat in front of the mirror and wiped away her makeup. “It's just a big show, put on for the cast.”
“Wild show,” Steve said.
Ulan turned. “Steve, we gotta end our visit. I'll ghost later. I gotta go talk with a big hat.”
The portman nodded. “Big talk, yeah. Keep your spin, you with?”
“I'm with.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
Alistair Bernal, Jana Moff, and Dante Jurney were waiting outside the dressing room with Paul when Ulan emerged.
“You did better than we expected!” Jana grinned. “That was brilliant.”
“That was horrible,” Ulan said.
Paul laughed. “Oh, don't worry about him. Reed's just going to move to the lower house, you'll see. He'll be an athline in no time.”
Ulan frowned.
“Dexter Reed is just one of many Reeds,” Dante said. “They'll put a new family-member in his place. It's not like they won't still fight us.”
Alistair nodded. “Ulan, he's got the support. He can still become an athline. Don't think you've killed him.”
“It's fighting a hydra,” Ulan said. “Now, there's going to be more than one.”
Jana shrugged. “At least that vote is over. I don't think we'll have to worry about anyone going after fielders now.”
“Ships kids,” Dante said, with a wide grin. “You heard the portman.”
“Did you?” Ulan asked. “Was anyone paying attention in there? We have to deal with the Shipping Authority now. Or was that little detail lost during the bloodlust?”
“We just keep an eye on them,” Jana said.
Ulan looked at the group. “Reeds bend with the wind. Oaks stand against it.”
Paul laughed. “You writing slogans for his opponent now? You'll get quoted on that.”
The others laughed.
“Reeds survive storms,” Ulan continued. “Oaks get pulled up by their roots.”
The laughter stopped.
Ulan looked at the grave faces before her. “That's what I thought.” She walked away.
Paul followed, holding out a hand to keep the others back. “Ulan! Ulan, please.”
Storming down the stairs, Ulan pulled her jacket closer.
“Ulan!” Paul shouted. “Wait! Please.”
“I have too many people depending on me,” Ulan said. She tried to wave down a jitney.
“Hey.” Paul pulled down her arm. “When can I see you again?”
Ulan stared at him. “Where you in there? Didn't you see what happened?”
“It's Hemicircle stuff,” he said. “Happens every few years. Listen, hey. No, wait. When can we see each other again?”
“How can you stand it?”
Paul stood by her, shuffling his feet. “It's a system. There's rules and effects and you learn how to deal with them. You grew up on a ship. You know how you have to deal with the unusual all the time. It's the same thing.”
A jitney stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Ulan started to board.
“Why'd you leave?” she asked Paul. “Both your parents were shipping family. Why'd you leave space?”
He shrugged. “Dad decided it was too dangerous.”
“You must be bored to tears,” she said, shutting the door.
--Douglas Jerrold
The Hemicircle was in chaos.
Two-hundred bolathames, in full regalia, were shouting at each other. The Puax vainly called for order.
"It's preposterous!" Bolathane Nguyen yelled. "Half of us were born on ships! This is just a power-grab of the most gross fashion!"
"And how can someone who was not born nor bred here even try to understand our needs?" Bolathane Reed shouted back.
Not born nor bred, a low chant started. Not born nor bred....
"Order!" the Puax raised its volume. The form had inflated to twice its regular size. "I demand order!"
"He'll want the colonists off next!" Bolathane Moff shouted. "You think this is the only planet that has problems? You've already seen what's happening on Ursus Major-47. You think that won't spread if you kick them out?"
A clutch of visiting bolathanes started to shout and clap their hands.
Ulan watched the entire nauseating process and finally stood. "The Puax demands order! Let's start a real debate!"
"Bug-lover!" someone yelled.
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Wainwright said. "We're never going to vote until we have order!"
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Bernal shouted.
"Demand for order!" Bolathane Jurney added.
The upper-house was now divided into two competing chants.
"We're supposed to be the voice of stability!" Ulan shouted. "Are we having this debate or not?"
The Hemicircle slipped into a moment's quiet.
Bolathane Reed stood. "I have proposed a change to rules of order. You all know what it is."
"We don't know why." Bolathane Moff stood. "It serves no purpose. To ask for that, right after the anniversary, is just insult to injury."
"We ask to assuage the fears of our citizens," Reed said. "We have no proof of citizenship from those born on ships. When someone could go into space and suddenly come back with a new personage, there have to be questions."
Foot stomping followed that. "He's a VT!"
"I do not ask on behalf of the Vencume Truth organization," Reed continued. "I ask on behalf of humans everywhere."
"What does Bolathane Reed consider a human?" Bolathane Jurney asked. "Should it look like him, round and red?"
Laughter.
"If you want to say it's to prevent non-humans," Bolathane Moff said, "you'll need to give a definition."
"Is it to insist on some kind of pedigree?" Bolathane Wainwright asked. "Don't we have testing for that? You want to know who our parents are?"
Bolathane Reed was turning bright red. "There must be no meddling. We must know what we are dealing with."
Bolathane Eugen from Peg-51 stood. "Will the gentleman object to me being short?"
Bolathane Silva from Leonis-83 stood. "Will the gentleman object to my golden eyes?"
"What is a human?" Bolathane Moff asked. "By what standard does the gentleman measure us?"
"Why fielders?" Bolathane Wainwright asked. "Is it because the shipping families lived there?"
"Why not the stations as well?" Bolathane Jurney asked.
The stations are sedentary," Bolathane Reed said.
Bolathane Smith stood. "Yes, I question the colonies. I think their interests are not the same as ours. Bolathane Moff makes an excellent example with Ursus Major-47."
"Damn bears!" someone shouted.
"Stuff it!" Bolathane MacMahon from Ursus Major-47 stood. "Let's see you mine ore like that! We provide you with raw materials and you bleed us dry!"
"You tax us too greatly!" Bolathane Hiraku from Cancri-55 said. "We must be allowed to develop! We provide food for your cities and you give us a pittance!"
Ulan stood. "Maybe it would be best to kick the colonies out of the Hemicircle, before they see that things are not as bad here now as when they left."
The visiting bolathanes clapped, knowing that a foot-stomp would not broadcast.
"What of your overpopulated cities?" Bolathane Silva from Leonis-83 asked. "What of your starving peoples?"
"Show the man a feed!" someone shouted. "Bring him over for a rail ride!"
Bolathane Jones stood. "There are still floods in the Wymont basin. We cannot produce wheat at the same levels as before. The rice that used to grow in Denliquin might never come back."
Ulan leaned back and let them argue grain.
"Assembled personages!" Ulan stood. "I bring a visitor for this debate. Will you allow?"
Bolathane Randi stood. "Who is this visitor?"
"I bring Steve Hoffer from the station MeiHe," Ulan announced. "I bring a portman."
"How do you vote?" the Puax asked.
A moment's silence.
"Motion passes," the Puax said. "No abstentions."
Steve Hoffer appeared in the center of the Hemicircle, sitting long cross-legged. He raised a hand. "Hey, chubby-stubbys."
"Pointless distractions!" someone shouted.
"You got rude chubby-stubbys," Steve said. "Don't say hi when a hi's given."
"Hi, Steve," Ulan said. "Good's you come in. We got big talks."
Bolathane Jurney stood. "We have a portman. Does the gentleman think this is not human?"
Steve's eyes opened wide. "What's not human? Who's talking that?"
"A portman is a human," Bolathane Reed said. "I never said they weren't."
"But would you allow him on a vote?" Jurney asked. "I ask the Puax how that went."
"Bolathane Reed voted in the nay," the Puax reported.
"Homo sapiens-sapiens," Steve said. "Homo deus, homo deux. Chubby-chubby-stubby wants to marble the big blue and everyone's gonna get in tight. No ships, no digitation."
A shout. "Ask him to make sense!"
Bolathane Bernal stood. “If you'd ever been off-world, it would make perfect sense!”
Steve rubbed his temples with long fingers. "Been doing the deep dig. Got it all on this one. Got the corn that needs to move and the Authority says to get the ships-kids off the vote. Lots of interest there. Can't let the ships-kids know what you're asking."
“Lies!” Bolathane Reed shouted.
"Lots of distractions," Steve went on. "Got a chair in the corner for chubby-chubby-stubby 'cause of the price of corn."
"Cut funding to the Authority!" someone shouted. There was a stamping of feet.
Bolathane Wainwright stood. "So, the good gentleman has entered the rule change because of outside pressure. How does the gentleman answer to this?"
The Puax stood forward. "A bolathane may not be influenced by an outside party. A bolathane shall be from an established family and shall prove the means to be immune to influence. It is the purpose of the upper-house to provide stability. The upper-house and its members will not be bought nor sold. Bolathane, the blade that cuts through the darkness."
"Bolathane," the Hemicircle chanted, "the steel that will not rot or change. Bolathane, the weight that holds us accountable."
A militant sound beside her, and Paul turned suddenly to see the bolathanes next to him drawing their blades.
The bolathane: that wide, dull, stupid piece of metal they all wore. Throughout the Hemicircle, half-meter long blades emerged from their scabbards, held at attention before the men and women who had been elected by the most powerful families in the galaxy. Held aloft, by those who had proven themselves rich and powerful enough to stand outside of whim and public opinion.
And those same men and women pointed those wide, dull pieces of metal at Bolathane Reed and frowned.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded!"
Ulan gripped the handle of her own bolathane but did not draw it.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded! The blade that breaks shall be discarded!" The chant filled the Hemicircle.
Two dressers had entered the Hemicircle and unwound the robes of state from Dexter Reed. Ulan's dressers. It was as if she was doing it herself.
"The blade that breaks shall be discarded!"
Paul glanced at Ulan across the Hemicircle. Her eyes, heavily done in the proper ceremonial makeup, had an inhuman quality to them. She looked like a puppet.
Ulan sat in her dressing room, waiting on the visit from Steve Hoffer.
The portman appeared, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Hey, family.”
“Don't 'hey, family' me,” Ulan growled. “Why didn't you warn me?”
“Warn on what?” the portman said. “Did a big dig and found a few. You said to ghost down, so I did.”
She paced in the room, clutching the hilt of her bolathane. “There's big talks and there's kill talks. That was kill talks out there. Never even demanded you show proofs. That feel right? That words' all it take?”
“I like your hat,” Steve said.
“Hells on a hat!” Ulan shouted. “You did a sneak-sneak on me and you're not here grass-side for after-party. I'm getting death whispers. I didn't bring you in to sgian dubh him!”
Steve blinked a couple times. “What's sgian dubh?”
“Black knife,” Ulan hissed. “Sneak death, you with?”
“Not with on a sneak death.” Steve shook his head. “Sneak anything is bad deal. Big hats got it weird.”
Ulan fell into the chair in the room. “Yeah, big hats got a lot of sneak. Grass-side's got a lot of sneak.”
“Sneak-side,” Steve said. “Didn't feel right, but felt good. You got poison on you.”
“I'm just unhappy because I thought we'd defeat a rule change, not destroy a man. It's not your fault. I should have known.”
There was a knock at the dressing room door.
“More big hats,” Steve said.
“You watch and record.” Ulan pointed at him. “Kill talk, you with?”
“Finger on the button,” Steve answered.
Paul was waiting outside the room. Ulan rushed out, grabbing his jacket and forcing him against the wall.
“You knew what would happen!” she hissed.
Paul's eyes were perfectly round. “Where are your dressers?”
She gave him another shove. “Who cares? You knew what was going to happen in the Hemicircle and you let me do it. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“You can't wear that outside of the Hemicircle,” Paul said.
She gave him a sharp jab to the ribs. “Answer me. You knew what was going to happen, didn't you?”
“Ulan...” Paul held up his hands. “You can't wear that outside of the Hemicircle.” He pointed at the wide blade on her left hip. “I'll wait here, I promise. Go get changed. You're not allowed to wear your robes of state out here.”
Fuming, she went back to the dressing room. The bolathane was thrown at its case, the sash across the floor.
“That a black knife?” Steve asked.
“Might as well be,” Ulan answered, unwrapping herself from the robe. “Dull, stupid blade. Wide and dumb.”
Steve nodded. “You got neat eyes.”
She sat in front of the mirror and wiped away her makeup. “It's just a big show, put on for the cast.”
“Wild show,” Steve said.
Ulan turned. “Steve, we gotta end our visit. I'll ghost later. I gotta go talk with a big hat.”
The portman nodded. “Big talk, yeah. Keep your spin, you with?”
“I'm with.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
Alistair Bernal, Jana Moff, and Dante Jurney were waiting outside the dressing room with Paul when Ulan emerged.
“You did better than we expected!” Jana grinned. “That was brilliant.”
“That was horrible,” Ulan said.
Paul laughed. “Oh, don't worry about him. Reed's just going to move to the lower house, you'll see. He'll be an athline in no time.”
Ulan frowned.
“Dexter Reed is just one of many Reeds,” Dante said. “They'll put a new family-member in his place. It's not like they won't still fight us.”
Alistair nodded. “Ulan, he's got the support. He can still become an athline. Don't think you've killed him.”
“It's fighting a hydra,” Ulan said. “Now, there's going to be more than one.”
Jana shrugged. “At least that vote is over. I don't think we'll have to worry about anyone going after fielders now.”
“Ships kids,” Dante said, with a wide grin. “You heard the portman.”
“Did you?” Ulan asked. “Was anyone paying attention in there? We have to deal with the Shipping Authority now. Or was that little detail lost during the bloodlust?”
“We just keep an eye on them,” Jana said.
Ulan looked at the group. “Reeds bend with the wind. Oaks stand against it.”
Paul laughed. “You writing slogans for his opponent now? You'll get quoted on that.”
The others laughed.
“Reeds survive storms,” Ulan continued. “Oaks get pulled up by their roots.”
The laughter stopped.
Ulan looked at the grave faces before her. “That's what I thought.” She walked away.
Paul followed, holding out a hand to keep the others back. “Ulan! Ulan, please.”
Storming down the stairs, Ulan pulled her jacket closer.
“Ulan!” Paul shouted. “Wait! Please.”
“I have too many people depending on me,” Ulan said. She tried to wave down a jitney.
“Hey.” Paul pulled down her arm. “When can I see you again?”
Ulan stared at him. “Where you in there? Didn't you see what happened?”
“It's Hemicircle stuff,” he said. “Happens every few years. Listen, hey. No, wait. When can we see each other again?”
“How can you stand it?”
Paul stood by her, shuffling his feet. “It's a system. There's rules and effects and you learn how to deal with them. You grew up on a ship. You know how you have to deal with the unusual all the time. It's the same thing.”
A jitney stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Ulan started to board.
“Why'd you leave?” she asked Paul. “Both your parents were shipping family. Why'd you leave space?”
He shrugged. “Dad decided it was too dangerous.”
“You must be bored to tears,” she said, shutting the door.
