Zorobo marches to his usual spot opposite Sotet’s cell. He glares at Sotet from between the bars.
“Step back and away from the door, Sotet. I must enter to administer the sleeping powder to the witness.”
Sotet bristles and puts one large wing in front of Adahlia protectively.
“I do not believe that is necessary, Zorobo! She is just a young girl. She was put under slumber for far too long the last time. We don’t want to hurt her. Besides, she is no threat to you…Or to anyone else. She’s only a child.”
Security Master Zorobo meets Sotet’s gaze with a cruel smile playing over his lip. Zorobo’s voice drips with sarcasm.
“As with everything else you have chosen to forget…Or rather ignore…Otherworlders are forbidden from seeing the way to the Hall of the Monoch. The fact that she is permitted to enter at all is an extreme courtesy. She will be given the sleeping powder, or she will not attend the trial. Waste any more time, and she may not be awake in time to defend you anyway. I would hate for all of this waiting to have been for nothing.”
Sotet’s eyes narrow and he glares at Zorobo. “I’m sure you would.”
Zorobo does a shooing motion with his left wing.
“Now, step away from the door. We are on a very tight schedule.”
Sotet backs up several steps, nudging Adahlia so that she does the same. Zorobo unlocks the cell and slowly draws open the door. Reaching into his bandolier, he once again removes the sleeping dust. Adahlia stiffens and grips Sotet’s wing. Sotet looks down into her terrified face and tries to comfort her.
“I’m so sorry, little one. But when you awaken, this ordeal will be nearly over. You can see your mother again. Don’t be afraid.”
Zorobo lets out a gruff humph sound. He steps into Adahlia’s personal space and sprinkles a smaller dose of sleeping powder than previously onto his wing. Zorobo exhales and the powder poofs into Adahlia’s face; traveling into her nostrils and immediately clouding her senses. Adahlia begins to fall and Sotet takes her into his wings. Security Master Zorobo hollers for his assistants.
“Bring the stretcher. The otherworlder has been sedated. She is to be taken to the Hall of the Monoch by the fastest route.”
Two large shrikes enter the cell carrying a tan device for transporting Adahlia. Once she is on the stretcher; one assistant activates a button on the side, and the stretcher floats effortlessly into the air.
Without a word, the two assistants to Zorobo exit the cell. Adahlia’s stretcher hovers in the air between them. Zorobo turns to Sotet and growls in a coarse voice.
“Now. Let’s go, traitor!”
-
-
Hall of the Monoch
There is a great hustle and bustle as Sotet and Zorobo approach the entrance to the Hall of the Monoch. Adahlia’s stretcher has already been transported inside and dozens of shrikes crowd in the doorway to see the otherworlder.
“Is that her?” A female shrike calls to someone nearby.
“She’s so small. How can she be a threat?” says another.
“When is the last time we had a visitor?” asks yet another.
“It’s been many world cycles. I think it was during the reign of Gytil and Jotk. I’ve not heard of anything since,” answers yet another.
Other voices overlap and continue to make inquiries about the strange circumstances surrounding Sotet’s trial. The voices stop when the spectators recognize Security Master Zorobo and his prisoner in the crowd.
“There he is,” a voice cries.
“It Sotet,” calls another.
“He’s the one who brought the otherworlder here,” screams yet another loud voice.
“What was he thinking,” utters a fourth voice.
Sotet hangs his head as he is led up the stairs and inside the entrance. Bodies of many shrikes crowd him and some even touch him. It is as if they doubt he is real. As if any real shrike would dare bring a human into their world. He is grateful that no one lashes out. One good thing which goes along with being a civilized society.
Zorobo leads Sotet down the hall without uttering a single word. Shrikes make a path for the Security Master, glimpsing his stern face. Finally, they arrive at their destination. A large room elegantly decorated with emerald statues of former rulers of Shretonia. A dual throne, with a large round emerald between both chairs, stands at the far wall. The very scale of the throne is intimidating.
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Sotet shivers, remembering the last time he stood before this throne. It was so many world cycles ago, but still so fresh in his mind. It was on that day when he truly learned the meaning of fear. The dual voices of the Monoch had taught him that important life lesson. Today, they will administer another form of justice; and he will be the recipient.
A hush falls over the enormous room as Sotet is led to a podium directly facing the dual throne. As soon as Sotet is in place a force field surrounds him. Security Master Zorobo takes a few steps back and crosses his wings behind him. Every eye is now focused on the dual throne.
Two shrikes, a male and a female, enter from a hallway beside the thrones. Both are clad ornately and walk side by side, matching each other step for step. The emerald crowns upon their feathered heads catch the light filtering in from the transparent ceiling. Sotet stares at the pair of shrikes with fear and awe gnawing at his innards. This is his first time ever laying physical eyes on the royal couple. Everything he has ever seen of them was on a holographic video or royal banner. A much different experience to see them in true living color.
The royal pair slowly approach the dual throne. The female shrike crosses to before the throne seat on the left. While the male shrike crosses to the throne seat on the right. They pause dramatically before taking their seats. The giant emerald situated between the two throne seats begins to glow. The royal couple each place a wing into a pair of openings cut into the emerald. The emerald glows still brighter. The royal shrikes grow rigid in their seats; their golden eyes changing to a bluish-grey hue.
“The trial of Artisan Crafter Sotet has begun,” the dual voices of the Monoch ring out simultaneously. The sound reverberates around the enormous gathering center, causing a shiver to run down Sotet’s spine. “Let the case be heard. So that justice may rule over Shretonia.”
What was once a shiver down Sotet's spine, becomes trembling, as Zorobo steps forward to make his case against Sotet. Sotet eyes the Security Master warily.
Zorobo removes his crested helmet and once again places it under his arm. He bows respectfully before the throne. After a moment, Zorobo replaces his helmet and takes a step backward. He speaks loudly and clearly.
“Great Lurviy….Venerable Huetvik…I am honored to stand in your presence. Revered representatives of the Monoch; I come before you, as a loyal servant of Shretonia. I attest that the words I shall utter today will be nothing but the truth. Because they can be nothing else. May justice prevail this day,” Zorobo says these last words with a broad wave of one wing.
A hushed commotion issues from the surrounding crowd. Whispers overlapping in the otherwise silent gathering place.
“You may commence your testimony, famed Zorobo,” the booming voice of the Monoch replies with authority.
Zorobo bows again. Turning swiftly, he crosses to the podium where Sotet stands. He eyes Sotet with obvious disdain—bordering on hatred.
“Revered Monoch…Before you stands Artisan Crafter Sotet…Son of Glodit and Netorrav. I will give testimony which does prove that on the fourth day of the harvesting moons of Wotoen, this son of Shretonia did betray his duty. On this day, he did bring a human female into our world. Breaking one of our most hallowed statutes. Even going so far as to show this human the inner workings of one of our most treasured secrets….The Olance tube.”
A unified gasp, intermixed with disappointed groans, fills the gathering place. Sotet flinches at the sound and looks around the room. Not very many sympathetic faces. Not very surprising. The way Zorobo tells it; Sotet was sharing worldly secrets left and right to any who would ask. The way he tells it; Sotet sounds like a traitor. No mention of Sotet’s reasoning. No mention of Sotet’s perceived need to save Adahlia from being assaulted by a group of much larger humans. No mention of anything which might make Sotet appear even slightly loyal to his kind and his world. Security Master Zorobo is indeed a good orator. Too good. On Zorobo’s word alone, Sotet faces the very real threat of losing everything.
Sotet hangs his head as Zorobo continues on—listing every little thing he observed from the moment Adahlia first entered Shretonia. Zorobo even mentions Sotet’s objection to Adahlia being sedated a second time. With his own slant of course. A small motion, to his right, causes Sotet to glance up. Three rows from the front, Kotoro stands holding the hands of two of their clutchlings. The other clutchlings cling to her elegant dress. The youngest, only by a couple of hours, attempts to wave at his father; but Kotoro trills softly and he drops his wing. Kotoro offers Sotet a wistful smile. Sotet hangs his head, unable to return her smile. There is nothing to smile about this day.
Finally, Zorobo wraps up his elaborate narration. He bows yet again and thanks the Monoch for their wisdom and justice—yada yada yada.
“Bring the human child,” Zorobo trills authoritatively.
Adahlia is led into the gathering place by the same two shrikes which accompanied her stretcher to the Hall of Monoch. She is still quite drowsy, the sleeping dust having only just worn off. The two assistants walk on either side of Adahlia. Once she is beside Sotet’s podium, the two shrikes step back. A panel on the floor opens and another podium rises into view. Adahlia looks around in surprise—as a force field encircles her. Tears well in Adahlia’s eyes and her lower lip trembles. Sotet looks at her from the side but does not dare raise his head. There are tears in his eyes as well.
Zorobo gestures toward Adahlia. “The human child wishes to give testimony on behalf of Sotet, son of Son of Glodit and Netorrav. The benign Monoch has seen fit to give her an audience. We will hear what she has to say.”
Zorobo sneers at Adahlia— cruelty lacing his voice.
“You may speak, human!”
Adahlia looks briefly at Sotet and begins to tremble. Her eyes dart to and fro.
“I…I…”
“Speak plainly, human. The justice of the Monoch is unwavering and swift. Speak plainly and with truth,” Zorobo nearly roars.
Still shaking, Adahlia opens her mouth and begins her tragic speech.
-
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Adahlia’s mother slams the front door and rushes into the living room. She grabs her phone from the glass coffee table and dials three numbers: 9-1-1.
“9-1-1. What is you emergency?” a young woman’s voice chirps.
Mrs. Highstreet is nearly hyperventilating as she utters an almost incoherent torrent of words.
“Please, my daughter…I think something has happened to her. She promised she’d be home for our lunch date, but it’s after 2 P.M. and she is still not home. She promised me she’d be here. I don’t think she would forget. She’s not that kind of child. Please, I need some help. I need to find my daughter. She wasn’t anywhere that I looked. I couldn’t find her.”
“I need you to remain calm, ma’am,” the dispatcher continues. “Can you describe her to me? What was she wearing? How old is she?”
Mrs. Highstreet absently replies to every question thrown her way—not even having to think about the answers. Adahlia is her life. She knows every birthmark and crease on her child’s flesh.