I twirl the glass of wine as I sit at my desk, bombarded with reports from HPN. FABIAN quietly sits next to me as we both scan through report after report much akin to easily distracted primates.

Many of today’s dishes remain on the table across the room. Bolognese, stroganoff, much more wine, and a platter of a grand variety of fruit. I only had morsels here and there, seeking variety over satiety, relishing in it, but only ever achieving a vague sense of satisfaction. Always too many or too little options.

Suzanna, where are you? Who are you, damn it?

I walk over to grasp a strawberry and ease it between my lips. I reach for another and dip it in the dark chocolate fondue, then another in white chocolate instead.

“Mm, yes,” I mutter in indulgence.

“Good evening with Hedonia Public News… I’m Helen,”

“..and I’m Ruth,”

“And today, well, I suppose Ruth can start us this time.”

“Vicious allegations of Mother Elin eating the deceased remains of children are circulating rapidly on social media site Twigpost.”

FABIAN stands aside me. I turn to him, “Think we’ve done all we could?”

“It’s a shame not all of the citizenry will believe this, but you were indeed not informed.”

“Mm, the cut did indeed have an unusual texture– but what repulses me more, is my inability to know which of my leading Daughters put that in the meal between Adrian and I that morning. If not one of the Lieutenants, then I could not guess who.”

What a childish gimmick; I thought I had given enough to occupy them instead of reconfiguring my private meals.

“At the very least, the press is in defense of me,” I mutter, petting Diogenes as he squirms restlessly in my arms. “What is the matter, have I failed you as a species-mismatched mother?”

He turns to me blankly for a few seconds.

“You are free to criticize me, as perhaps either of us rule over the other.”

He lies back down, seemingly in surrender.

“Perhaps he’s in the malaise of burnout; I can be demanding at times. Unfortunately for you, neither of us have much room for litigation for the toils of your onerous employment,” I gently stroke the longitudinal furs on his head. “You poor thing.”

~~

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“Welcome, welcome all! Jamia Janesson again, now with our new premiere, in honor– or perhaps for some of you, in spite– of the resignation of the original Jackal Hunter, Lorianne Kruger; we have a firebrand, blazing, bodacious, newcomer– Cynthia Aldero! A w-a-a-a-rm round of applause, shall we?” she rapidly chatters in her usual frantic manner.

Mixed responses from the crowd as Cynthia bursts through the van door, skidding to a stop upon exit and landing, opening her polished steel maw and roaring before the fleet of Jackals emerging from the ashen mess of the concrete jungle.

“It looks like she’s already ready to rumble with little introduction! Can I get another reminder of how ready you are to see the slaughter?”

More mixed responses from the crowd.

“I had expected greater cheer for our new heroine– but nonetheless, I’ve got a show to host! Now, let the slaughter…. begin!”

Cynthia bursts from her position, dashing towards the open buffet of 100-some Jackals before her, mechanical paws shattering the brittle dirt beneath.

“And already Miss Aldero is off to a tremendous start! Her hunger seems like it’s been festering for days!” Jamia exclaims, as Cynthia snaps her jaws while approaching the first Jackals, performing a 180-degree tailwhip to strike away two at her sides, before charging onward for more, pouncing on another, standing against it, paw to paw, taking a large, bloody bite out of its throat.

Another Earworm ping demands my attention.

“Yes, Chuji?”

“Mother, there are protests again over the matter.”

What an endless chore– Motherly duties, I suppose.

“Where might it be this time?”

“The same location as the last protest, the southwest corner, where the incident started.”

“And what do they demand now?”

“Uncertain. The only consistency from demanding individuals is but the demand for more.”

“Well said, as always.”

“Some kind of call to action, perhaps to remove you. But fortunately for us, they do so with no clear means.”

“The Boilers certainly did a number alongside Lorianne in breaking into the Compound. Perhaps such should concern us. Just perhaps.”

“What is then your course of action, Mother?”

“As almost always, the best is to not reward the behavior. But, if each constituent subgroup or substrata is seeking contradictory rewards or fearing contradictory punishments, then there is no uniform appeasement or disappeasement and our actions become ultimately inconsequental regarding the matter. So, the addendum to that “almost” would be in the rare occasion that doing nothing is the best path to take.”

“I have no further comment, Mother.”

“You’re always free to if you so wish.”

A moment of silence, aside from a few transistors in FABIAN’s mind flickering.

“On another note, you have not mentioned Lorianne recently. Do you still have interest in her whereabouts?”

“Mm,” I mutter. “I do wonder of her every now and then, but she’s outside of Cauldron as well as Hedonia’s jurisdiction. She is currently neither threat nor asset to Hedonia or I, though…” I find myself pausing, unable to explain why. “Huh. Interesting you mention her, and interesting I’d say that.”

"I sense hesitation. What might be the matter, Mother?"

I pause more. "Uncertain, we will dismiss it for now, for more urgent matters stand before us."