Chapter 32 – Quicklime
Shortly after the meeting, Damien had materialized back in his chambers. Massaging his temple, he produced a small bundle of food. A sandwich, Matrioshka noticed, made of sweet wheat, blue cheese, extreme amounts of lettuce and tomato, and steamed ham.
Damien bit into it, and lettuce fell all over him. Grunting, he summoned some cloth to wrap around the food. In the virtual, he was thinking about his student, about the priorities laid out by the captain, and his next steps.
He brought up his files on Adra, the woman he had grown moderately close to, and thanks to Matrioshka's hints, a person who might have romantic intentions towards him.
Blushing, Damien browsed 5th Kingdom data. He gulped when he read:
Females usually initiate courtship with a gift of the sunbond – a necklace made of hew rope, druid flower, and gold.
The amount of gold is usually associated with the size of the woman's wealth.
He swiped the data away, deep in thought.
Damien extended his gaze back into his memories. Clear for Matrioshka like she was there when it happened, Damien watched a woman prepare a salad. They were both on a farm, the same one Matrioshka saw Damien enter during his downtime.
The woman had red hair, peppered with locks of black. She was relaxed, dancing to the tunes from an old-timey radio. Her dress was frilly, glowing in the light of the golden sun.
"Hey," Damien interacted with the memory.
"Oh!" the woman jumped, turning in place to face Damien. "You scared me. You're done with the fields?"
"Yeah," Damien cleared his throat, struggling to speak. "You're making salad?"
The woman nodded. "The tomatoes are a bit underripe, but I know that's how you like them. Insane if you ask me..." she smiled, then faltered, watching Damien's face.
"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping closer to him.
"I-" Damien backed away. "Why did I come here?"
Matrioshka was of half a mind to notify Damien of the knocking on his door, but it would have been too much of an imposition, she concluded – to make it so blatantly obvious she was spying on him in this moment.
"Lake..." Damien said, and Matrioshka returned her attention to his vision. The knocking on the door continued.
"Yes?" the woman's own eyes turned glassy. "You're scaring me, Damien."
Lake, likely the ex Damien spoke of, placed a hand on his cheek. This was Damien's breaking point; he jumped out of the simulation. Staring down at the sandwich, he sobbed once.
The tomatoes in the sandwich, Matrioshka noted, were under-ripe.
A knock on the door.
"Coming," Damien said, dematerializing the tears on his Miriani face.
Adra was outside, which made him halt at the doorknob. He scanned her, searching for something, and finding only a stack of lecture notes and a sample of rock. Damien sighed again, this time in relief.
He opened the door, bowing to Adra.
"Hidden night," he said.
Adra returned the gesture and asked: "That was interesting, the way you handled the students. You've read Professor Trum's work?"
A quick data search yielded a scholar of the 5th Kingdom, judging by the records, Adra's mentor during her first 4 years of education. Damien ingested the professor's entire life's work and answered:
"I have. I agree with his findings – cooperation and freedom to question are essential to prosperous education. Why do you ask?" Damien offered for Adra to come inside.
She shook her head at the invitation. "I have class soon; I was wondering if you would accompany me? Listen in, I shall try as you did, and Professor Trum."
Damien smiled. "Of course. How did you act with your students previously?"
They walked abreast towards the main Academy building, nodding to the other faculty as they passed. Damien noted that word got around fast; he was spoken of as "the one that defied Professor Urhen".
Adra managed to overhear this, and said: "Pay them no mind. The man was a menace, as most golds are towards us."
Damien grunted, and Adra continued.
"I'd say, I was somewhere between the classical teaching and new-form proposed by Trum. I never punished my students, but I did speak at them more than with them. If you get what I'm trying to say."
Damien clasped his hands. "I do. You are on the right track; kindness is a conduit for many things." They had passed a bend and started to walk up the stairs towards the classroom.
"I have something to tell you."
"Oh?" Adra looked at him.
"Yeah, but it can wait until after class."
"Sure thing, Professor Nam."
Adra pushed open the door to her classroom; the students were seated already. Their eyes followed closely as Adra and Damien moved to the front. Adra motioned towards Damien and said: "This is Professor Nam Brarom; he shall observe our time today."
Damien smiled at the students and bowed.
No familiar faces, Matrioshka noticed.
As Adra spoke, she did her best to induce friendliness and conversation with the students, but Damien saw that she struggled. It was hard for her, especially given her material mind, to change many years of programming when it came to teaching.
Damien offered a gentle word every now and then, often by scanning the students and magically guessing at their passions and talents. Adra was grateful, her emotions on high – growing frustrated at her own perceived incompetence.
They were discussing the theory of planetary geology. Macroscale. The core of Rosamond's World was mostly inert – no tectonic activity save for the occasional volcanoes in the desert expanse beyond the southern ocean. This led to a couple of moments where Adra was speaking falsehoods, and Damien had to bite his tongue.
After the lecture, as the students hurried out chattering amongst themselves, Adra leaned forward in her professorial pillow. Drained, she looked up at Damien and asked:
"Was that good?"
"It was, especially for your first time."
"I didn't expect it'd be this difficult," Adra confessed.
"Well-" Damien stopped when 7 Miriani entered his scanner range. He knew the central figure, Professor Urhen, and the other six were agents of the Protectorate. Donning armor and blades, they rushed behind the old professor.
A faculty member, the assistant to the librarian, stopped them and asked:
"What is this?"
The senior officer of the Protectorate, recognized by his cape and insignia, stepped forward. "I am Chapel-bearer Hul Urhen. And this is not your concern. We work under the blessing of the High-Cardinal." He commanded another agent: "Check her."
"What-" The agent grabbed the librarian and produced a small lighter from his satchel. It turned in his hand, sparking a small fire. He brought it closer to the woman's hand. Panic spread across her face as the fire connected.
It burned for but a moment, not enough for permanent damage but enough to hurt. The agent batted the flames on the woman's fur, and Hul inspected the wound.
"Burns, smell of charred fur. She is clean."
Professor Urhen grabbed a passing student. "What class did you just come out of?"
The student tensed, stammering as he answered: "Second level Geology. By Professor Adra Nan-Tar."
The old professor grinned wickedly and said to the lead agent: "Follow me, nephew."
Damien told Adra with haste: "Protectorate is coming, they will want to burn your fur. Do you trust me?"
Adra had trouble following. "Burn me- What?"
Damien offered her his hands, palms towards her, asking for deep trust.
Adra searched his eyes and connected her hands with Damien's.
He turned, quickly moving the minerals arranged before Adra. Calcium oxide, he smiled as he grabbed it, and Adra's lunch, a bowl of fruit. He crushed the fruit and motioned to dunk the calcium oxide into it.
Adra's hand grabbed his. "Stop! That will-"
"I know."
The Protectorate was at the door, Hul pushing it open.
Damien's eyes turned sad. "This won't hurt."
Calcium oxide, in contact with water found in the fruit juice, had an exothermic reaction. Paired with the oils in the pear-melon, it would start a small fire. As Adra reflexively looked away from the roaring chemicals, Damien coated the tops of her fur with the oils. It combusted, burning the topmost millimeters of Adra's red fur.
His nanites morphed to mimic the same on his own arm.
The Protectorate entered, and Professor Urhen pushed past them, pointing at Damien and Adra:
"You're here too? Excellent. Test them!"
Hul approached them, his pace slowed when he saw their burns. "What happened here?"
Adra looked to Damien, and he said: "Word of advice: never combine calcium oxide with fruits. Ah- Sorry Adra for being so clumsy, I ruined your lunch."
Adra blinked down at her hand and finally noticed her burned fur soaked with the black oil of pear-melon. It looked like she suffered burns, as did Damien. The Chapel-bearer noticed this as well; he sniffed once, then twice.
"We are clear here." He clasped his hands and moved to leave the classroom.
"What!?" Urhen complained. "Test them again! They must be demons!"
"Uncle…" Hul warned. "They are meek professors, caked in burned fruit. Do you not smell them?"
"But-"
Hul raised his hand. "The Academy is vast, and I have been given a mere hour to check everyone within. Silence, Uncle."
As the Protectorate left, the aging professor turned and yelled, "This isn't over!"
Damien smiled. "Nice seeing you, esteemed professor."
The man gritted his teeth, said no more, and left the room.
Adra pushed herself away from Damien. "Explain."
Damien sighed and offered her a napkin. She accepted it and went to clean the oils from her hand. The nanite napkin made quick work of the material, and Adra inhaled quickly.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you."
"Go on…" Adra sat on a pillow, as did Damien.
Considering the data packs and Adra's homeland, Damien wished to devise some course of action that would make the conversation easier. The search provided no easy way to explain his alien origin.
He sighed and said: "I'm not from this planet. I am an alien."
Adra's ears quirked. "Come on…" She searched his eyes. "That is… unlikely."
Damien clasped his hands and looked towards the window. It was dark yet; dawn would approach in a few hours still. The Duchess was calm, in the tranquil period of its 3.7 days long atmospheric oscillation.
"I- uh…" Damien lost his voice; Matrioshka noted the increase in his processing power.
"Are you alright, Officer Viris?"
Matrioshka's voice startled him. He cleared his throat and said: "This is going to sound insane, but Adra reminds me of… my ex."
"Really? Even though they are of a different species?"
"Can't quite put my finger on it. Adra has the same calmness as Lake did."
"You're having trouble explaining to her? Putting her in harm's way?"
Damien nodded. "If she becomes what you ask of her, she will face mostly hardship – even after we Ascend the Miriani, she might be an outcast. The betrayer – siding with us instead of the Mirian race."
"You assume she would be a puppet. Maybe you underestimate her. The only way to know for certain is to proceed as discussed."
"Yes… I agree. Thank you, captain." Damien met Adra's eyes and extended his hands once more.
Adra held them, fingers interlocked. Damien's touch was gentle on purpose; he did not wish her to feel trapped by what was about to happen.
Damien's Miriani fingers lost their fur, yielding to the smoothness of human skin. His clothes melted and contracted. His dark hair bloomed, stubble appeared on his chin, and the aged features common for a human male in his biological 50s emerged.
Adra's body tensed, her vocal cords spasming – making her mute. Her eyes widened, and her ears curled into themselves. Yet her hands remained where they were, holding Damien.
Once he was fully in his human form, Damien's gaze flickered to their hands, and he whispered:
"See?"
Adra inhaled and closed her eyes. Calming herself, she was able to speak again. Instead, she just watched him. Letting go of his hands, she stood up and approached him.
She was eye level with the sitting Damien. He watched her with a calm smile as she inspected his body. She poked his shoulders, evidently surprised at the sensation as her finger swiftly moved away.
"May I touch your fur?" she asked in a low voice.
Damien considered her and saw she was looking at his hair. He smiled and said, "Of course."
Adra's hands grasped his long black hair, her fingers danced at the top of his scalp, and before he could ask what was up, Adra said:
"You're so soft!"
Damien did a double take and saw Adra was grinning.
"Like an infant!"
"Yes, for humans, thermal insulation and regulation weren't as important as they were for your species."
Adra spun around him once more and sat back down. "An alien?"
"Yes. Human."
Adra's face scrunched up, and Damien said: "You don't need to try and pronounce it; your vocal cords cannot go that deep."
"Why- Why tell me? Is this not something that should be kept secret?"
"My captain has instructed me to bring you into the fold. The history of your species is rich – and tragic."
Damien continued with a light overview of the Miriani culture pre-collapse and spent a much greater deal of time painting a detailed picture of the current royal family and the King's plans before Matrioshka stopped him.
Adra listened, asking an occasional question, until Damien started to talk about the planned genocide. This lit a fire in her heart.
"Idiotic. Shameful. Cowardly," she said, clenching her teeth.
"Agreed. Which is why I would like to propose you be installed as the new Queen."
Adra laughed. "Right, me as a usurper to the throne. All hail Queen Adra!"
"We, the Imperials, have the ability to do so with ease."
Adra looked at him flatly. "Then what do you need me for?"
"You are Miriani. You fear death, you know what it's like to hurt, to be ostracized. We can understand it, simulate it, but never truly feel it. We need your Miriani heart to guide us when we err. Some things that are easy for you are hard for us, and vice versa."
"So you want me for my life, for my history – for my hate?"
"I didn't know you had much hate."
Adra looked at her hands. "How could I not? I am of the 5th Kingdom. By what you've told me – your only source of information for you, eh- data-packs?"
Damien nodded.
"Your data-packs were created using the information stored in the libraries of the 11th kingdom, and words spoken by the people of the 11th Kingdom. There is bias there."
"We have assumed. Another reason why we need you."
Adra clasped her hands. "Good. But then I wonder, how will I be able to convince all the kingdoms to swear fealty to me, and to you? You plan to reveal yourselves, do you not?"
Matrioshka spoke to Damien: "Only after we have handled Reaver."
"Yes. After some period of time during which you will be the mediator. Our captain has prepared the seeds of your power."
Adra appeared skeptical. "What seeds?"
"She has presented herself as a demon, a mythical being. We can present you in much the same light."
Damien expected some rebuttal, judging by him preparing numerous counter-arguments. Instead, Adra clasped her hands. "I could do that. I can be mythical."
She was smiling. "Could I end the Disgrace? Equal rights for the Kingdoms? Equal distribution of water?"
"All of those are desired. It is the policy of the Imperium to grant a serene immortality to all minds within its reach."
Adra clasped her hands. "Then I accept- though..."
"Yes?"
"The Imperium – you said it's expanding?"
"Indeed, currently at 0.1135 light-years per year."
"I presume that is a lot? By my standards?"
Damien clasped his hands.
Worry started to spread across Adra's face. "Then what about us? Let's say it takes us just 50 years to reach our old level of development – the Imperium would have expanded farther out and engulfed our stellar neighborhood."
"Maybe. But this is a controlled expansion. It can be paused or redirected if the Miriani race wishes for it, especially near your star system."
Adra was quiet for a moment, then she clenched her hands and said, "Let's do this. Let's change this cursed world."
Damien smiled. "I'm glad to have you with us." His nanites flew between the two of them, forming a sphere – a miniature Rosamond's World. "Before all that, I'd like to teach you a great deal of things."
Damien bit into it, and lettuce fell all over him. Grunting, he summoned some cloth to wrap around the food. In the virtual, he was thinking about his student, about the priorities laid out by the captain, and his next steps.
He brought up his files on Adra, the woman he had grown moderately close to, and thanks to Matrioshka's hints, a person who might have romantic intentions towards him.
Blushing, Damien browsed 5th Kingdom data. He gulped when he read:
Females usually initiate courtship with a gift of the sunbond – a necklace made of hew rope, druid flower, and gold.
The amount of gold is usually associated with the size of the woman's wealth.
He swiped the data away, deep in thought.
Damien extended his gaze back into his memories. Clear for Matrioshka like she was there when it happened, Damien watched a woman prepare a salad. They were both on a farm, the same one Matrioshka saw Damien enter during his downtime.
The woman had red hair, peppered with locks of black. She was relaxed, dancing to the tunes from an old-timey radio. Her dress was frilly, glowing in the light of the golden sun.
"Hey," Damien interacted with the memory.
"Oh!" the woman jumped, turning in place to face Damien. "You scared me. You're done with the fields?"
"Yeah," Damien cleared his throat, struggling to speak. "You're making salad?"
The woman nodded. "The tomatoes are a bit underripe, but I know that's how you like them. Insane if you ask me..." she smiled, then faltered, watching Damien's face.
"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping closer to him.
"I-" Damien backed away. "Why did I come here?"
Matrioshka was of half a mind to notify Damien of the knocking on his door, but it would have been too much of an imposition, she concluded – to make it so blatantly obvious she was spying on him in this moment.
"Lake..." Damien said, and Matrioshka returned her attention to his vision. The knocking on the door continued.
"Yes?" the woman's own eyes turned glassy. "You're scaring me, Damien."
Lake, likely the ex Damien spoke of, placed a hand on his cheek. This was Damien's breaking point; he jumped out of the simulation. Staring down at the sandwich, he sobbed once.
The tomatoes in the sandwich, Matrioshka noted, were under-ripe.
A knock on the door.
"Coming," Damien said, dematerializing the tears on his Miriani face.
Adra was outside, which made him halt at the doorknob. He scanned her, searching for something, and finding only a stack of lecture notes and a sample of rock. Damien sighed again, this time in relief.
He opened the door, bowing to Adra.
"Hidden night," he said.
Adra returned the gesture and asked: "That was interesting, the way you handled the students. You've read Professor Trum's work?"
A quick data search yielded a scholar of the 5th Kingdom, judging by the records, Adra's mentor during her first 4 years of education. Damien ingested the professor's entire life's work and answered:
"I have. I agree with his findings – cooperation and freedom to question are essential to prosperous education. Why do you ask?" Damien offered for Adra to come inside.
She shook her head at the invitation. "I have class soon; I was wondering if you would accompany me? Listen in, I shall try as you did, and Professor Trum."
Damien smiled. "Of course. How did you act with your students previously?"
They walked abreast towards the main Academy building, nodding to the other faculty as they passed. Damien noted that word got around fast; he was spoken of as "the one that defied Professor Urhen".
Adra managed to overhear this, and said: "Pay them no mind. The man was a menace, as most golds are towards us."
Damien grunted, and Adra continued.
"I'd say, I was somewhere between the classical teaching and new-form proposed by Trum. I never punished my students, but I did speak at them more than with them. If you get what I'm trying to say."
Damien clasped his hands. "I do. You are on the right track; kindness is a conduit for many things." They had passed a bend and started to walk up the stairs towards the classroom.
"I have something to tell you."
"Oh?" Adra looked at him.
"Yeah, but it can wait until after class."
"Sure thing, Professor Nam."
Adra pushed open the door to her classroom; the students were seated already. Their eyes followed closely as Adra and Damien moved to the front. Adra motioned towards Damien and said: "This is Professor Nam Brarom; he shall observe our time today."
Damien smiled at the students and bowed.
No familiar faces, Matrioshka noticed.
As Adra spoke, she did her best to induce friendliness and conversation with the students, but Damien saw that she struggled. It was hard for her, especially given her material mind, to change many years of programming when it came to teaching.
Damien offered a gentle word every now and then, often by scanning the students and magically guessing at their passions and talents. Adra was grateful, her emotions on high – growing frustrated at her own perceived incompetence.
They were discussing the theory of planetary geology. Macroscale. The core of Rosamond's World was mostly inert – no tectonic activity save for the occasional volcanoes in the desert expanse beyond the southern ocean. This led to a couple of moments where Adra was speaking falsehoods, and Damien had to bite his tongue.
After the lecture, as the students hurried out chattering amongst themselves, Adra leaned forward in her professorial pillow. Drained, she looked up at Damien and asked:
"Was that good?"
"It was, especially for your first time."
"I didn't expect it'd be this difficult," Adra confessed.
"Well-" Damien stopped when 7 Miriani entered his scanner range. He knew the central figure, Professor Urhen, and the other six were agents of the Protectorate. Donning armor and blades, they rushed behind the old professor.
A faculty member, the assistant to the librarian, stopped them and asked:
"What is this?"
The senior officer of the Protectorate, recognized by his cape and insignia, stepped forward. "I am Chapel-bearer Hul Urhen. And this is not your concern. We work under the blessing of the High-Cardinal." He commanded another agent: "Check her."
"What-" The agent grabbed the librarian and produced a small lighter from his satchel. It turned in his hand, sparking a small fire. He brought it closer to the woman's hand. Panic spread across her face as the fire connected.
It burned for but a moment, not enough for permanent damage but enough to hurt. The agent batted the flames on the woman's fur, and Hul inspected the wound.
"Burns, smell of charred fur. She is clean."
Professor Urhen grabbed a passing student. "What class did you just come out of?"
The student tensed, stammering as he answered: "Second level Geology. By Professor Adra Nan-Tar."
The old professor grinned wickedly and said to the lead agent: "Follow me, nephew."
Damien told Adra with haste: "Protectorate is coming, they will want to burn your fur. Do you trust me?"
Adra had trouble following. "Burn me- What?"
Damien offered her his hands, palms towards her, asking for deep trust.
Adra searched his eyes and connected her hands with Damien's.
He turned, quickly moving the minerals arranged before Adra. Calcium oxide, he smiled as he grabbed it, and Adra's lunch, a bowl of fruit. He crushed the fruit and motioned to dunk the calcium oxide into it.
Adra's hand grabbed his. "Stop! That will-"
"I know."
The Protectorate was at the door, Hul pushing it open.
Damien's eyes turned sad. "This won't hurt."
Calcium oxide, in contact with water found in the fruit juice, had an exothermic reaction. Paired with the oils in the pear-melon, it would start a small fire. As Adra reflexively looked away from the roaring chemicals, Damien coated the tops of her fur with the oils. It combusted, burning the topmost millimeters of Adra's red fur.
His nanites morphed to mimic the same on his own arm.
The Protectorate entered, and Professor Urhen pushed past them, pointing at Damien and Adra:
"You're here too? Excellent. Test them!"
Hul approached them, his pace slowed when he saw their burns. "What happened here?"
Adra looked to Damien, and he said: "Word of advice: never combine calcium oxide with fruits. Ah- Sorry Adra for being so clumsy, I ruined your lunch."
Adra blinked down at her hand and finally noticed her burned fur soaked with the black oil of pear-melon. It looked like she suffered burns, as did Damien. The Chapel-bearer noticed this as well; he sniffed once, then twice.
"We are clear here." He clasped his hands and moved to leave the classroom.
"What!?" Urhen complained. "Test them again! They must be demons!"
"Uncle…" Hul warned. "They are meek professors, caked in burned fruit. Do you not smell them?"
"But-"
Hul raised his hand. "The Academy is vast, and I have been given a mere hour to check everyone within. Silence, Uncle."
As the Protectorate left, the aging professor turned and yelled, "This isn't over!"
Damien smiled. "Nice seeing you, esteemed professor."
The man gritted his teeth, said no more, and left the room.
Adra pushed herself away from Damien. "Explain."
Damien sighed and offered her a napkin. She accepted it and went to clean the oils from her hand. The nanite napkin made quick work of the material, and Adra inhaled quickly.
"I haven't been entirely honest with you."
"Go on…" Adra sat on a pillow, as did Damien.
Considering the data packs and Adra's homeland, Damien wished to devise some course of action that would make the conversation easier. The search provided no easy way to explain his alien origin.
He sighed and said: "I'm not from this planet. I am an alien."
Adra's ears quirked. "Come on…" She searched his eyes. "That is… unlikely."
Damien clasped his hands and looked towards the window. It was dark yet; dawn would approach in a few hours still. The Duchess was calm, in the tranquil period of its 3.7 days long atmospheric oscillation.
"I- uh…" Damien lost his voice; Matrioshka noted the increase in his processing power.
"Are you alright, Officer Viris?"
Matrioshka's voice startled him. He cleared his throat and said: "This is going to sound insane, but Adra reminds me of… my ex."
"Really? Even though they are of a different species?"
"Can't quite put my finger on it. Adra has the same calmness as Lake did."
"You're having trouble explaining to her? Putting her in harm's way?"
Damien nodded. "If she becomes what you ask of her, she will face mostly hardship – even after we Ascend the Miriani, she might be an outcast. The betrayer – siding with us instead of the Mirian race."
"You assume she would be a puppet. Maybe you underestimate her. The only way to know for certain is to proceed as discussed."
"Yes… I agree. Thank you, captain." Damien met Adra's eyes and extended his hands once more.
Adra held them, fingers interlocked. Damien's touch was gentle on purpose; he did not wish her to feel trapped by what was about to happen.
Damien's Miriani fingers lost their fur, yielding to the smoothness of human skin. His clothes melted and contracted. His dark hair bloomed, stubble appeared on his chin, and the aged features common for a human male in his biological 50s emerged.
Adra's body tensed, her vocal cords spasming – making her mute. Her eyes widened, and her ears curled into themselves. Yet her hands remained where they were, holding Damien.
Once he was fully in his human form, Damien's gaze flickered to their hands, and he whispered:
"See?"
Adra inhaled and closed her eyes. Calming herself, she was able to speak again. Instead, she just watched him. Letting go of his hands, she stood up and approached him.
She was eye level with the sitting Damien. He watched her with a calm smile as she inspected his body. She poked his shoulders, evidently surprised at the sensation as her finger swiftly moved away.
"May I touch your fur?" she asked in a low voice.
Damien considered her and saw she was looking at his hair. He smiled and said, "Of course."
Adra's hands grasped his long black hair, her fingers danced at the top of his scalp, and before he could ask what was up, Adra said:
"You're so soft!"
Damien did a double take and saw Adra was grinning.
"Like an infant!"
"Yes, for humans, thermal insulation and regulation weren't as important as they were for your species."
Adra spun around him once more and sat back down. "An alien?"
"Yes. Human."
Adra's face scrunched up, and Damien said: "You don't need to try and pronounce it; your vocal cords cannot go that deep."
"Why- Why tell me? Is this not something that should be kept secret?"
"My captain has instructed me to bring you into the fold. The history of your species is rich – and tragic."
Damien continued with a light overview of the Miriani culture pre-collapse and spent a much greater deal of time painting a detailed picture of the current royal family and the King's plans before Matrioshka stopped him.
Adra listened, asking an occasional question, until Damien started to talk about the planned genocide. This lit a fire in her heart.
"Idiotic. Shameful. Cowardly," she said, clenching her teeth.
"Agreed. Which is why I would like to propose you be installed as the new Queen."
Adra laughed. "Right, me as a usurper to the throne. All hail Queen Adra!"
"We, the Imperials, have the ability to do so with ease."
Adra looked at him flatly. "Then what do you need me for?"
"You are Miriani. You fear death, you know what it's like to hurt, to be ostracized. We can understand it, simulate it, but never truly feel it. We need your Miriani heart to guide us when we err. Some things that are easy for you are hard for us, and vice versa."
"So you want me for my life, for my history – for my hate?"
"I didn't know you had much hate."
Adra looked at her hands. "How could I not? I am of the 5th Kingdom. By what you've told me – your only source of information for you, eh- data-packs?"
Damien nodded.
"Your data-packs were created using the information stored in the libraries of the 11th kingdom, and words spoken by the people of the 11th Kingdom. There is bias there."
"We have assumed. Another reason why we need you."
Adra clasped her hands. "Good. But then I wonder, how will I be able to convince all the kingdoms to swear fealty to me, and to you? You plan to reveal yourselves, do you not?"
Matrioshka spoke to Damien: "Only after we have handled Reaver."
"Yes. After some period of time during which you will be the mediator. Our captain has prepared the seeds of your power."
Adra appeared skeptical. "What seeds?"
"She has presented herself as a demon, a mythical being. We can present you in much the same light."
Damien expected some rebuttal, judging by him preparing numerous counter-arguments. Instead, Adra clasped her hands. "I could do that. I can be mythical."
She was smiling. "Could I end the Disgrace? Equal rights for the Kingdoms? Equal distribution of water?"
"All of those are desired. It is the policy of the Imperium to grant a serene immortality to all minds within its reach."
Adra clasped her hands. "Then I accept- though..."
"Yes?"
"The Imperium – you said it's expanding?"
"Indeed, currently at 0.1135 light-years per year."
"I presume that is a lot? By my standards?"
Damien clasped his hands.
Worry started to spread across Adra's face. "Then what about us? Let's say it takes us just 50 years to reach our old level of development – the Imperium would have expanded farther out and engulfed our stellar neighborhood."
"Maybe. But this is a controlled expansion. It can be paused or redirected if the Miriani race wishes for it, especially near your star system."
Adra was quiet for a moment, then she clenched her hands and said, "Let's do this. Let's change this cursed world."
Damien smiled. "I'm glad to have you with us." His nanites flew between the two of them, forming a sphere – a miniature Rosamond's World. "Before all that, I'd like to teach you a great deal of things."