[b]Chapter 2:[/b] Lekat grunted at his arum. He prodded at the wooden ball, willing one of the spheres to move. It clicked sideward with a tick. He grinned, and then tapped at another of the polished orbs. It didn't budge. He shook the arum. The evasive gem clattered side. The veneered surface of the ornament was alight with condensation, and he dashed it away with his hand. He shook away the droplets of water, before wiping his nose and resuming the puzzle. The varnish on the spheres had a silky, plastic texture, like amber. Buruiu groaned over the stove, ladling at the rice. He turned up the temperature, and poured more water in. Steam erupted. "[i]Blood,"[/i] he swore. Lekat glanced up at the curse. Water sloshed out onto the table. Buruiu hastily lapped it up with a cloth, swearing as his hand burned. He didn't care. A raw hand would be nothing compared to a mother's rage. "Where is the cook?" He stood and tucked away the arum. "To the hells if I know," Buruiu squeezed the cloth over the sink, and swore again. "She's not helping us, so why does it matter?" Lekat went to the window, checking if the shuttle was returning. There was nothing beyond stars and the dead planet. "We might as well call for her, or it'll be too late." "I would say I do not care for cooking anymore, but I will probably die. Go find her." Buruiu dried the table. "Later." "Blood, Lekat, do not make me -" Lekat laughed. "Lekat -" Buruiu warned. "Lower the temperature, no more water, and let it simmer." The cook smiled at them from the doorway. Buruiu saw her, and bowed swiftly. "My appreciations, madam," he said. The cook left. Buruiu went back to the rice. "I swear, brother, when we are home, you better start training quickly," he advised, popping the lid onto the stove. Lekat chuckled again. "Should I ask why?" "Because," he said slowly. "I will beat you so badly that mother herself will interfere." -- It hung there, in the blackness of space, filling up the void where the stars did not. Like a jewel in the darkness, a haven for life and a point of succor. Large as they may be, it was only one of many, like a sphere splotch of pigment on a blank sheet of canvas. And they were toned to perfection; threaded colours, swirls of delicate blues and greens, balanced against a bland surrounding. Until they dried away their luster, and flaked away into a peeling scab. Like this one. It was a mosaic of filthy browns and black smudges. The sun exposed a rotted crescent of the planet, the other side hidden in shadow. It was entire in its corruption, its surface blistered. The threaded colours were sullied and the swirls were marred into a tainted smear. But unlike scabbed paint, scabbed planets were not so easily forgotten. At least to humans. Huraii folded away the human clothing, stowing them inside a plastic casket and then dropping it in a corner. She bustled off into the kitchen, returning with a glass and pot. Alaiya's cabin was a small compartment on the edge of the shuttle, directly attached to the kitchen and through that, the cockpit. Huraii slid open a drawer, taking out a handheld mirror, and looping it around a finger, grabbed another casket. "Apologies again for the lateness, mistress; the pilot has assured me that the [i]complete[/i] record of H'chovak's album will be present next time." She laid the casket on the cabins bed, placed the glass down onto the table, poised the mirror to best reflect Alaiya's disapproving face, and then pulled out a stringy wire mesh from one of her pockets, wrapping it around the rim of the glass. She plopped a bunch of herbs onto the net, and then poured heated water, leeching the herbs' flavour. "No matter," Alaiya studied her appearance in the mirror, and then reached for the tea. Huraii snatched the mesh away, tying it into a bag and enveloping the sagging ball in a tissue and pocketing it away. "My mentor was never as lenient," she added, raising the glass. "You are most gracious, mistress." She tapped the hologram panel inset beside the door, and from steel ventilators in the ceiling, freshly recycled air gushed outwards. She kept the mirror positioned the whole time. Alaiya turned back to the window, observing the planet below. "The surprise of religion-driven acts is beginning to wear off on me." "It's been committed all throughout history, mistress." Huraii disappeared into the kitchen again, placing the mirror back into the drawer on the way. She returned with a full pot, steam curling from the ceramic spout. "Yes, and once again we list down this disaster due to the cause of fanaticism. When will the men learn?" Huraii moved to the bed, bending down and pressing a lock of her hair and then the tip of a fingernail into the opening of the casket. Purple winked on the chrome lock. "Perhaps this time will be the last, mistress." "Kaidons will never change. Remember that. As many reasons as they can gabber out, the blade only symbols pain beneath the layers of prestige. If the hilt is still clipped to their belts, then people will die." She sipped. Huraii undressed, pulling off her hanfu and then the rest of her robe. "We cannot change instinct, mistress. There is only so much the matrons can do." She unveiled a servant's array; embroidered tussah, cotton trims, dyed sable. She fiddled with strings and tightened laces. "Instinct is a primal need, one that can be disciplined and controlled. The men kill for unnecessary reasons, and half the time they kill for no reason." "Only time will tell, mistress. As you've said, a species with a mind will flourish, not a blade." Huraii patted down her sides, and then fastened the jade buttons lining the side of her body and running down to her knees. "They must work in cooperation, not isolation. Mental skills cannot defend physical assault." Huraii scrutinised herself, moulding the cloth to her curves. Gods forbid oversized, loose wear. She combed at her braids, loosening the whole lot and letting it tumble down to her shoulders, and then pinched thin strands with strips of black silk. Outside, the hull of the [i]Preeminent[/i] blotted out the stars in a merciless wave of manufactured purple alloy. They entered one of the docking hangers, and powered down in a moan of cooling engines. An umbilical uncoiled from a portside hatch and connected to an airlock. To the shuttle's stern, containment fields hummed back on, and gravity was restored in the hanger. "Second Matron, we have docked within [i]Preeminent.[/i] The humans are now able to depart, as are you." Huraii finished, touching up her eyes and jaws. She looked at Alaiya for permission to leave. Alaiya nodded. "I want the humans filed out to the eatery immediately. I do not want their bumbling stupidity in here." She rose as well, going to the doorway. "They shall dine in an hour." -- Lekat jumped at the ship-wide broadcasting. Mother was coming. Buruiu smacked him across the head. "Put that away! Have you laid out the shells yet?" He left the arum on the table, and then hurried to the aluminum sink. The shells were swabbed in oxidising chemicals and rinsed, and he fished them out of the soapy water. He put them out on trolleys to await filling. Buruiu drew a knife and prepared to do battle with a haunch of meat. "Ladle the rice. Just spin it around, yes?" "I know how to do it." "Of course you do," he said, slicing at the pale, pink flesh. "We always knew you were the better chef." It wasn't a compliment. Lekat dabbed at his scalp. It was sweltering, with the acrid chemical tang of cleansing products, burnt rice and cooking meat. He whirled the rice around, freeing the globs of clotted grain. Buruiu was trying to look busy dicing the haunch, and he still had the rice to spoon. Mother wouldn't have much to complain about, he realised. This revelation would shock him for the rest of the day. "Lekat," "Mhm," Buruiu skimmed the knife along the chopping board, and then said, "Do not say I haven't warned you -" He grinned again. "If this is about before, you already have." "And," he continued calmly, "Never say I am not a generous soul -" "I have complete faith in that you will aspire to beat me most vigourously, brother." "- but your arum is still on the table." Lekat paused. "Blood," "Indeed." Lekat scrambled over to the arum. Ancients protect him, he was going to die. Buruiu looked nonchalant. He was frantic. "Buruiu! Where can I hide -?" The door slid open. "Mother!" --