The video, low 480p, with heavy red tones, swoops in on a Lanaktallan. It moves to a quick montage. Getting to work. Work. Lectured by supervisors. More work. Shopping for food. Coming home to a habitation block with washed out colors, riding in a silent creaking elevator, going into an apartment with dim lightning and dingy colors. Paying bills. The Lanaktallan lays his head down and sighs, obviously overcome with stress.
A beeping alarm goes off and the Lanaktallan sighs with tiredness, slowly getting up. He puts socks on his legs, a warm flank covering, a jacket with sleeves. He finishes with a fuzzy cap and mittens, but leaves his sash behind. He leaves the house, stepping out into a chilly day.
He trots down the street and into a park. As he walks, nodding and exchanging passing pleasantries with other Lanaktallan, a few Telkan, even a Treana'ad and a Kobold, his steps pick up. His flankspine straightens. His upper torso straightens.
He trots into the park, moving slowly at first, but them more briskly. He sips at hot chocolate from a street vendor, throws snowballs at the rock with a bullseye painted on it, watches Telkan and Kobold children skate on the ice of the pond. He shares a bench with a Treana'ad and laughs.
When he returns home, his head is high, the sparkle is back in his eyes, and his hab-block is brightly lit and colored in soothing and pleasing colors. There's music in the elevator, which is nicely lit. The hallway is full of color and bright lights. His apartment is brightly lit with pleasing colors and comfortable furniture.
Text comes up. Large Impact font.
WALKING AROUND THE BLOCK OR THROUGH THE PARK FOR THIRTY MINUTES A DAY CAN CHANGE YOUR OUTLOOK AND YOUR WORLD!
Below it is: A message from Most High In Exile Mana'aktoo and the Artcarik-482 Mental Hygiene Bureau
Mana'aktoo nodded as the video came to an end.
"We have seen a contentedness index rise of 2.02% after those commercials air," a Hikken social scientist said. "The addition of parks and trotting pathways has made the parks 14.58% more popular. The presence of Confederate Army Military Police raising the Comfort and Safety Index of people by nearly 312% now that the Shade Attack is over."
Mana'aktoo nodded again. His projections had been slightly off, more... pessimistic if he was honest with himself.
His people had suffered nearly 11.58% casualties in that unexpected attack.
Thee point six two five billion sentient beings had been killed.
He knew his system was lucky.
One of his sisters and her children, nieces and nephews he had loved very much, had been killed with their security details before they could put up a fight.
His mother was only alive because he had purchased the services of a Terran lemur mercenary to guard her. The Terran had been horribly injured but modern medical technology had returned her to full health only hours before the sky had turned a blinding light.
The thought made his left lower fist ball.
He nodded to the advisors and motioned at the door. "Thank you for the updates, learned beings. I appreciate the work you do on behalf of the citizens of this planet."
They all bobbed and bowed and scraped, babbling apologies and thanks and gratification for his notice.
He didn't notice. He was already ordering his limo and security detail AKA guards to meet him.
He shut down everything, rebooting the system, making sure all non-volatile memory was overwritten, then shut the system down again after flushing the caches and garbage bin.
A warm shirt, vest, jacket and flank covering. Long comfortable warm socks that went from just above his hooves to under the flank covering. He pulled on the knitted hat and gloves, put a box tied with a ribbon in his pocket, then trotted out of his office.
The two Tukna'rn Marines followed him.
He found he missed the lemurs.
The Tukna'rn were too mechanical for him.
Mana'aktoo marveled at the snow. Unified Council Weather Control system kept any extreme of weather, and snow was considered extreme, from affecting the population of the planet. Normally snowstorms were in the high mountains, far out to sea, over over the neo-sapient population to bleed off the massive forces involved in the weather.
The limo pulled up, two guards on single-wheel combat bikes first. The guard held open the door and Mana'aktoo got in, nodding to the guards.
He was silent the whole way and his Telkan driver could see that Mana'aktoo was lost in thought.
The limo pulled into the VIP section of the garage, dropping Mana'aktoo at the private elevators.
The two Tukna'rn followed him, the red of their armor dull in the parking garage lights.
Mana'aktoo rode the elevator quietly, taking off his hat and gloves and putting them in a pocket. When it opened, he waited until people hurried by. A deep breath let him smell the antiseptic, an odd sour odor, and the strange taste of positive pressure air systems. When their was a gap he moved in with the flow and made his way to a room.
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He peeked in first.
It was quiet. Lit warmly but dimly.
The machines hissed quietly. The monitors beeped softly.
Mana'aktoo took the time to arrange the flowers on the dresser. He read each of the cards again before putting them back. Two were new and he held them as he turned and moved away from the cards. He moved a chair over and sat down on it.
The female Lanaktallan's eyes were closed. The machines breathing for her. A glance told him that her brainwave activity was still highly erratic.
Mana'aktoo had studied every bit of medical literature he could lay his hand on.
Extreme Phasic Shock Neural Reaction
Mana'aktoo took out one of the cards, looking at it.
"Dear Gram-ma-ma. Get well soon. I love you. - De'erylilmo'o," Mana'aktoo said softly. He held up the card in front of her closed eyes. "Drawings of Rigellian ducks following a butterfly," he said softly. He set the card down and opened the next one. "Most Honored Maternal Relative, pleased to be getting well and hearty soon. Affection and Things I do Not understand. Your middle female offspring: Conpho'oz'dmo'o."
He held up the card. "Rainbow reflections and a pond. It is very lovely."
He put away the card, setting it on top of the other on the end table.
He sat for a moment, staring at the monitors. The brain wave one had leveled out, but now starting to be erratic again.
Sighing, he moved over and read the clipboard. He had studied hard, all kinds of literature regarding phasic brain injuries.
He had also studied the effects of phasic overloads on neurological systems that had been damaged by outside forces.
She had received treatment the night before at the hands of three russet mantid phasic surgery doctors.
The fact that some information was missing told him a lot.
The hospital workers knew he had studied and knew what terms and diagnosis meant.
Brightening the lights slightly, he dug in his pocket. He took out a comb and moved over next to her.
He cradled her large heavy head as he began combing her coat. Smoothing it, bringing up the shine, soothing the skin beneath. The whole time he talked about his day. How he had approved more commercials. How he had worked with the Planetary Governor, the Space Force General, to decide what to do to soothe the stress in society after the Great Stellar Phasic Eruption. A few times he made poor jokes, chuckling at his own paltry wit, as he moved the blanket and brushed her back and her exposed flanks.
She was laying on the bed, legs down, chest down, head facing forward. He covered her up when he was done, tucking the blankets in.
After a moment he pulled out the box.
"I brought you something. Nothing special. Just a little something," he said. "I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought them. The HiKruth jewelry tried to gift them to me, but they are far too nice and far too valuable to accept as a gift. I told him to take his family to one of the Uncle Mikey Musicals."
He undid the ribbon, letting the neo-silk fall to the sides, then carefully opened the box.
Small earrings, studs with chains that had tiny Terrran female fey sparkling on them.
"I remembered how much you loved the fairy bush in my holotanks," he said. He took them out, showing them to her as if her eyes weren't closed. "They're beautiful," he said softly.
He carefully put them in her ears, making sure the holes were clean first. He went over, got the little mirror, then came back and held it in front of her face.
"They look amazing on you," he said softly.
He put the box and the ribbon back in his pocket and sat silently with her for a while.
"I have to go. The Governor and the High Lord Marshall are hosting an event," Mana'aktoo said. He took out the invitation and showed it to her. "They sent you an invitation. I told them that you are indisposed but send your regrets on not being able to attend," he said softly. He set the invitation next to the Getwell cards. He looked out the window.
The snowfall whirled through the darkness and the light cast by the sodium bulbs in the parking lot lights. "It's snowing still. I might be late to the party," he said quietly.
As he was moving to the door he heard it. At first he thought he had imagined it and went stock still.
"Don't forget to bundle up, Manny," he heard a rough, raspy voice say.
He turned as his mother coughed.
"Thirsty," his mother said, holding her head up and blinking her wide, expressive eyes.
Mana'aktoo's vitals spiked and his Tukna'rn guards burst into the room, one holding back the nurses and the doctors at gunpoint.
The Tukna'rn stopped when he saw what Mana'aktoo was doing and why his vitals had spiked.
He was holding his mothers head, leaning down to press his face against hers.
She was patting the back of his head.
-----
The High Lord Marshall saw Mana'aktoo enter the ballroom. The Lanaktallan's head was high and the shadow of pain on his face was missing. The Lord High Marshall had heard that Mana'aktoo's mother had regained consciousness and that Mana'aktoo had stayed the entire time the hospital had run tests on her.
Mana'aktoo's presence wasn't required at the events, but the Most High in Exile always made sure to be present in order to keep the peace and sniff out any potential problems.
The High Lord Marshall excused himself from the conversation and moved over to where Mana'aktoo was selecting a glass of wine.
"Most High in Exile," the Verprit staff officer greeted Mana'aktoo.
"High Lord Marshall Prextexia," Mana'aktoo said, bowing slightly.
The High Lord Marshall noted that Mana'aktoo wasn't wearing his sash. A surprising break from protocol as far as the Verprit was concerned.
"How is your mother?" Prextexia asked carefully.
Mana'aktoo was silent a moment.
"There isn't any problem, is there?" High Lord Marshall Prextexia asked.
Mana'aktoo shook his head. "No. No," he looked around. "I will only be here a short time. I realize that it a shirking of my public duties..."
"Not at all," Prextexia said. "If my mother had recently regained consciousness, you'd have to keep me at this party at gunpoint."
Mana'aktoo made an amused noise as he sipped from his wine. "Is that not what it is?" he asked.
Prextexia nodded.
"You have our permission to withdraw, Most High in Exile," Prextexia said.
Mana'aktoo nodded, setting his half-finished wine glass on the platter a servant was carrying by.
"By your leave," Mana'aktoo said.
The High Lord Marshall watched the Lanaktallan quickly leave.
Before he could think too much on it, one of the industrialists who survived the shade attack had stepped up in front of him to ask him questions regarding safety measures for workers.
-----
His mother was sitting upright, leaned back slightly to rest against the backrest, when Mana'atoo clopped in.
"How was your party, Manny?" his mother asked and Mana'aktoo took off his hat and mittens.
"Busy," Mana'aktoo said. He prepared himself for a battery of questions regarding fashion, gossip, and the refreshments.
Instead, his mother toyed with the spoon that was stuck in the small container of jello. She looked up at him.
"I'm unsure of why the Confederacy places both a governor and a military chancellor over this system," she said softly. "It seems like a dangerous division of power when the need to act quickly in the face of an emergency."
Mana'aktoo just stared at his mother.
"I understand keeping you in somewhat power, both to placate the citizenry and any possibly disaffected military and corporate forces and to draw on your experience," she said. She took a small bite of the jello. "But it seems as if the Confederacy is almost deliberately hamstringing their effective use of power in order to separate civilian and military leadership while nominally putting the civilians in charge of the military in a conquered system."
She looked up.
"Would you mind explaining it in a little more detail so I can catch the minutia I might have missed involving the geo-political situation, Manny?"
Mana'aktoo dropped his hat and mittens on the floor and just stood there staring at his mother, his mouth gaped open.