"Binard, you are in for a treat." Tor smiled as he pushed open the wide doors to the library and was greeted by an elderly man in a red sweater vest.
"Well if it isn't my favorite student, Mr. Torvalds." He smiled and Tor and the man were hugging and laughing while a bewildered Binard stared at them. "How nice of you to grace us with your presence. Who's the young blood with you?"
"This is my new assistant, Binard, uh..."
"Reyano, sir." Binard shook the old man's hand.
"Gelbert just loaned him out to me on account of being completely helpless by myself." Tor said.
"Old Gel sure does have you pegged. Nice to meet you Binard. My name is Atee Baer." He turned and led them down past some old stacks of books.
"Wait, like the same Mr. Baer who was the High Journalist before Tor?" Binard asked. He had seen the pictures on the wall of the Floating Eye several times but hadn't realized the man still worked in the same University building as himself.
"The one and only." He replied. "Ok well now you're here Tor, why don't you make yourself useful and help out one of my up-and-coming students. He's been researching some of the older Greek manuscripts and is challenging some of your very own presuppositions on a translation. He wanted to send you a message but I thought it would be fun to see him debate you in person." The two of them laughed as they walked towards the back of the library where small studies had been built off the main room.
He knocked on a door to one of the larger study rooms and gestured them to sit around a large messy desk with papers strewn all over it and a man asleep on the desk. Atee motioned for them to be quiet and with a gleam in his eye picked up the heaviest book nearby and dropped it right next to the man's ear. Tor and Atee started laughing as the startled young man was catching his breath and shaking his head.
"Mr. Baer. How nice of you to drop in." He chuckled despite himself and soon all the guys were laughing. After a few minutes of jocularity, the man held out his hand to Binard and Tor and introduced himself. "Excuse me for earlier. I don't typically sleep in the study rooms, but I lost track of time last night while I was typing out my draft for my dissertation. I'm Drake, may I ask who you are?"
"I'm Tor, and this is Binard, my assistant. We heard you were single-handedly dismantling my Greek translations and wanted to see why." Drake froze open-mouthed and hand still holding Tors. "I'm going to need my hand back," Tor said settling back into his seat.
Everywhere else on Henear, he was famous for being a man who demanded action, but here he was famous for what he actually loved research. The library had practically been his home after the incident at the orphanage. Atee had saved his life by letting him stay here.
"Wait, you're the Andrew Torvalds? The author of The Fall of the Aeolian language? The guy who literally wrote the dictionary of the Greek language we use for every translation?" Drake asked.
"Well, technically I rewrote it, but yes." Tor couldn't help but smile. Saving Wileans from illegal waste dumpings may have meant more in the long run, but Tor was more proud of his linguistic work.
"I told you I would get you the best help to figure out what you've found Drake. I may be old but that just gives me better connections." Mr. Baer said. "Why don't you show Tor what you showed me yesterday." This seemed to break him out of his reverie and he started rifling through his papers until he found one particularly messy paper that had been taped to a page that had been torn out of what looked to be a dictionary.
"Ok, so I was reading some of the old material the Aeolian founder, Anna, had written about the gas fields being the key to Henear's success." The boy spoke so quickly, it was as though his mouth couldn't keep up with his mind.
"Yeah, I remember the passage, 'The gas fields will be our beautiful savior of this planet we've founded if only we can harness the power it wields.' Is that the one?" Tor asked.
Drake stared at him again in disbelief, "Don't tell me you have this memorized too?"
"Of course. I have total recall for the written word." Tor replied smoothly.
"Of course you do. It's not enough for you to be a High Journalist, the foremost linguistics researcher on the planet, you also have a superpower." Drake just threw up his hands and sat down. "Ok well, that's the passage. What I propose is the word you translate as beautiful-- Kakos-- is actually the opposite. It would actually be something along the lines of bad or mean. Making the passage have a completely different understanding..."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"'The gas fields will be our mean savior of this planet?' It makes no sense that way Drake. What's your proof for this? Anna was a pneumatics genius, she loved the gas fields and was the only successful founder who could have managed a colony on that land. She loved the gas fields, she would never see them as, what, menacing?"
"Menacing. That's a better word for this." Drake started writing it down on a paper in front of him.
"How could you have a menacing savior?" Binard asked. All three men stopped and looked at him. Binard just shrugged.
Drake looked back at Tor, "Part of the problem is this passage in her diary speaking about the man she loved who she never mentions by name, but she describes him as Kalos-- I suppose that Kalos means beautiful or something similar, and if that is the case then why use Kakos to describe the fields?"
"There are synonyms to beautiful aren't there? They don't have to be opposites." Atee Baer interjected.
"Right, following that thought I did a word study every time we see the word Kakos in her writings specifically, and when you do that you start seeing how easy it could be to switch the two. It could be a synonym, but what if it's not? It appears that she is fascinated by the raw power of the gas fields, and instead of seeing it as Henear's savior, she sees it instead as a more personal savior. Almost like she has plans for it. Plans that aren't necessarily in Henear's best interest." Drake crossed his arms and paced slightly.
Tor sat back and Binard watched as the wheels in his mind raced through all the writings as though he was able to catalog them in his mind's eye. Drake appeared to be as annoyed as Binard was inspired. "That's an interesting conclusion, Drake. I can't find any syntax to completely refute your idea, yet it demolishes a lot of the conclusions I drew in my book."
Tor looked at the boy for the first time, noticing him. The boy was young and handsome, with black hair and a dark complexion which was popular amongst the younger generation these days. There was something about the boy that unsettled him and felt a great sense of urgency from him. As though there wasn't enough time for him to complete his research. He held the young man's gaze for a few uncomfortable moments. "If you're right we may be very sorry to have given the fields to Derensay."
"I have similar concerns. With their constant civil unrest, it appears the greatest resources we have are in their hands. I mean, we knew that already to an extent with them in charge of all air production, but something about this makes me think there's something we're missing. We need to somehow enforce a new way for their leadership to change. Allowing the state to operate under whoever has wrangled power the most recently is dangerous. We need Henear's foremost oxygen producer to be stable and sane."
"I agree with you. I've thought the same for years. Varnusha has been the longest-standing Vice-Regent the district has seen, but he can't stay in power forever. The colonists should have never allowed Derensay to create such a blood-thirsty government. However, I'm still not convinced what you're proposing about the translation is correct. Beautiful or menacing, either way, we need to secure the gas fields somehow. I've been looking into oxygen transactions for each state for the last ten years and Derensay is the largest consumer by far. I'm not talking about the citizens either. The highest consumer is the Vice Regent's estate. Now that Shreya is over there I'm hoping we can get some answers as to why. See if he's stockpiling somewhere."
"Who's Shreya?" Drake asked.
"My last assistant." Tor said and waved towards Binard with disdain.
"We have to do something. His stockpile could give all the planet more time." Drake said.
"I am doing something about it. I have some friends that can help." Tor looked at Binard, measuring him. "Drake, nice meeting you kid, I'll be interested in reading your dissertation when you're finished. If you ever need anything Binard here can help you out." He shook his hand and said goodbye to Atee Baer and left.
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Francisco Suarez was a true servant of Derensay. He stood tall and strong while he waited for his new employer to call upon him. After serving for ten years in the police force for Derensay he had decided to take a position in the private sector.
Pletaro Minault was a wealthy up-and-coming man in Derensay. While Francisco didn't always agree with the man, he did enjoy being paid by him. His job was to enforce the things Pletaro wanted. He felt like a servant.
Francisco wanted a little more action than just bringing a man a drink, but Pletaro assured him the time for action would come soon. So here he was, waiting for a drink to be made and watching to make sure it was done correctly. He smoothed his long black hair back. Pletaro cared about how you looked.
His holo beeped and he took the drink from the bartender and walked to the next room. The room was dark and in the middle was a holo of a man who was tall and skinny. "We need results Pletaro," the man in the holo said.
"I told you I'm working on it." Pletaro spoke back while sitting on a divan couch. Francisco placed the drink on a small table next to him. Pletaro waved him back, so Francisco stood by the door and waited.
He tried not to listen in, Francisco knew bodyguards were supposed to not pay attention. What else was he supposed to do in a dark and quiet room though?
"We need those supplies, you said you could get me those supplies, where are my supplies?" The scary skinny man in the holo was practically foaming at the mouth.
"I told you, I'm getting them. I have someone coming in the morning who can help get me a little more freedom around here. Your supplies are safe in the warehouse, I just can't get to them yet. You'll have to wait." Pletaro was faced away from Francisco on the couch, so he couldn't make out his expression, but his tone implied trouble.
"I will wait for two weeks. Two weeks Pletaro. If you won't' help me, I'll take this deal to Varnusha, I'm sure he'll want our help." The holo clicked off and Pletaro left the couch.
With a drink in hand, he strode up to Francisco, stormclouds on his face. "Tomorrow we're paying a visit to warehouse 223."
"Yes sir." Francisco opened the door for his employer. "What time would you like the motor brought around?"
"Early, you idiot." Pletaro stumbled out and went towards his room. Francisco typically escorted him to make sure he made it safely, but tonight, tonight he'd let him find his own way.