..[ KAMORT ]..
“Can I ask you something?”
Kamort was surprised. He tried his best to hide it but he knew she had noticed. She was too observant for her own good.
“Yes. Go right ahead,” he answered her.
“What makes a bad person?”
“Come again.”
“What actions define someone as being bad?” she tried to clarify. He understood her alright, he just didn’t get where the question was coming from. He also didn’t know how to answer that.
He cursed Mativo for going on an exploration at a time like this. As she grew up, it had become pretty clear that Mondhe went to Mativo for her tough questions. Questions that would stump the average adult. Her caretaker often complained about it. The last time they had met, she had shown equal levels of relief and trepidation that she had gotten the periods and sex talk. She would have preferred it had happened a few years later.
It had to be something important if Mondhe didn’t feel like waiting for Mativo to return. So Kamort tried his best to give her the answers she was looking for.
“Things that hurt other people, bad behaviours,” he tried, but it felt like he had said nothing helpful. “You must know these by now.” That was just the wrong thing to say.
“I do, but I don’t understand why they are bad,” she replied. Of course, that was why she was asking.
“Bad actions are those which impair the happiness of someone else, or deprive someone of any good,” he went with a more philosophical approach. “Anything which causes suffering of any kind to someone else.”
He thought he had nailed it that time. And her thoughtful look was encouraging. He should have known better.
“If someone doesn’t like interacting with people, keeps to themselves. And then kids keep bothering them, then they are bad. The kids,” she said.
“Yes.”
“What happens to the kids?” she asked.
“They get told to stop being bad to that person,” He said.
“Is that all? Nothing else?”
“What else?”
“Shouldn’t they get punished for doing something bad?”
“They will. If it is bad enough.” He said.
“Causing someone suffering isn’t bad enough?” she asked.
“There are different kinds of suffering. And depending on what the kids caused, they get different levels of punishment.”
“So, they might cause suffering and only get told off?” she asked.
“If the suffering isn’t that bad, then yes.” He was starting to think he wasn’t ready to answer all her questions.
“Who gets to decide how bad the suffering was?”
“People experience suffering in much the same way.”
“But it is possible for the same thing to cause varying degrees of suffering in different people?”
“Yes.”
“Whose degree of suffering gets used to decide how bad the action was then.”
“The common one.” He answered
“Then the one experiencing the higher degree of suffering is left feeling unsatisfied. Is that good or bad?”
“Not everyone gets satisfied. That is what it means to be fair.”
“Then no one is ever really happy?”
“I don’t think I can answer any more of your questions. Forgive me.”
“But you haven’t answered any of my questions.”
“What? I answered—”
“All the answers you gave have only made it clear that there is no bad or good. It all depends on what side you are on,” she said.
“That is not true.” He started explaining before she cut him off.
“I have another question. Why is it bad for the person something bad happens to try and stop that person from doing more bad things?”
“Because that is vengeance. It just leads to a circle of bad things.”
“So, all they need to do is end the circle?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“So, kill them.”
“No.”
The debate continued. Changing topics, and returning to old topics. By the end of the session, he had a splitting headache that would sure remain with him for the rest of the Day. He lay his head on his desk and closed his eyes for a few minutes. Thinking.
One thing was certain, someone was doing something Mondhe didn’t like. And she was considering punishing them. And killing was still on the table. He had tried his best but he didn’t think he had done enough to take the killing off the table. He just hoped that Mativo returned before things went south. He could have her watched, but without knowing what or who they were looking for, the watchers would be more likely to be caught instead. That would just make things worse.
He thought it was bullying. He had noticed it among the hybrids, becoming more common as they aged. It wasn’t extreme, in fact, it was on par on what would be found in public schools. The hybrids divided into groups which were thankfully inclusive of people despite their base species. No, the bullying came from differences in likes and dislikes. And social standings within the hybrids clique and out of it. It was so human it had been a relieve at first.
But now the other side of being human was making itself known. Those who liked taking matters into their own hands. Those who didn’t bend to societal norms. Those unaffected by peer pressure. In other words, the minority. And history had shown how humans, no matter how civilized they claimed to be, first reacted to minorities.
He knew Mondhe was a loner, but he didn’t think that alone would incite enough bullying for her to be considering taking actions against her tormentors. She was smart too, but lots of hybrids were smart. She was a competent fighter, but not a standout one. Nothing about her would make her standout too much to incur extreme bullying. He would have to do more research on the matter. Maybe there was something he was missing. He decided to talk with her caretaker, maybe she would know something.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
…
A few days later, he found himself back in his office with a different person this time. Mondhe’s caretaker. He had finally learnt and remembered her name, Basinger. He just wasn’t sure if it was a first name or a last name. Mativo’s naming scheme had meant it harder to figure out what the name actually was. It looked like a last name to him, so he assumed so.
“Welcome again Miss Basinger,” he greeted her as she took her seat.
“Just Basinger.” Maybe it was a first name after all.
She extended her hand for a greeting. He had told her many times that he preferred not to, but she still did it anyway. How someone like her was taking care of Mondhe was astounding. Maybe it was her.
After the exchange of pleasantries and unwanted handshakes, he got right into what had brought her to his office.
“Tell me about Mondhe.”
“Huh. She is how she has always been.”
“Humor me. Tell me how she has been of late,” he insisted. He was trying not to make it obvious that he thought something was up with her. But he also wanted her to try and remember if her behavior might have changed in the Days, Weeks, Months. Anything really.
“She is quiet, reserved, likes keeping to herself. Doesn’t interact with people much, especially not her age mates. She is smart, and physically active. She strands the perfect balance of the two worlds. But doesn’t stand out much in either. Being only good enough to barely keep up with her betters. What else?” she asked.
“Nothing else?”
“I told you. She is as she has always been since she began developing her personality.” She leaned back in her chair as if done with what she had to say. She suddenly sat up again, “She has been occasionally playing with her siblings. Not much, but still. And they appreciate the effort.
“I found them laughing the other Day. Can you imagine? All of them laughing together. I cried. I had thought she would keep growing apart from them as they got older. I would say things are looking better.”
“What about in school?” he asked her. If everything in the home front was good, then the only other place was the school.
“I’m not sure. She was arguing with Nissy the other Day as they came from school. When I asked what it was about, Nissy mumbled something then rushed off to her room. I only got the words ‘protect me’.”
“Is Nissy getting bullied at school?” he asked. Maybe he had been looking at it the wrong way. It wasn’t Mondhe but her sibling.
“No, I don’t think so. I still haven’t gotten the whole story yet. They are quite loyal to each other, but I think it has something to do with being called princess.”
“Nissy?”
“No. Mondhe.” She answered.
That was bad. If it meant what he thought it did, then it was bad. And there was nothing they could do about it. If she had been at the very least averagely social, then it wouldn’t have mattered much to anyone. People loved social princesses. They loved to hate them and love them. A social princess would be admired by many. If a bully tried anything, her admirers would protect her. Of course it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, but it was better than being an antisocial princess. It made people think that she thought she was better than them. And people really didn’t like that.
Making Mondhe be more social would not help her. And asking the other kids to leave her alone would not help either. Anything they did would only make the situation worse for her. All Kamort could do for Mondhe is try and make sure she never goes for the killing.
He really wished he was a licensed psychologist, or at the very least, he knew one or two things about being one. Mativo would be coming back soon, she would be able to talk to him then.
Though, was it really a good idea for a kid to be learning the difference between a good and a bad person from Mativo?
..[ SYLVIA ]..
It had been more than four Years since they had first made contact with the first truly speaking aliens: the homo-reptilians. They had come to be known as the Sientians. They actually didn’t have a name for themselves. But when they had learnt enough English to communicate with the colonists, that was the name they had come up with for themselves. What it meant, Sylvia didn’t know. Even they themselves appeared not to know either.
Their language had been turned to written language and Sylvia could comfortably read and write it. But she knew she couldn’t keep learning every new language they encountered to its entirety. There would be too many languages to even remember which one to use. Besides, she wasn’t exactly hoping to spent the rest of her life studying languages. She had other things to do too. And diplomat was her main job title.
She really needed to start working on those diplomacy skills. So far, they had been meeting barely civilized species. But they would meet the more civilized kind soon. It was only a matter of time. And when that happened, she needed to be in top form. If anything she needed to be in extra form. The kind of crew she was travelling with were more prone to hitting something and asking questions later. Or a kind of mentality like that. She still had not forgotten what happened with the chickens. No, not chickens. The avians. Yes, the avians.
She knew Mativo well enough to know that that wasn’t the only time that would happen. On the surface, Mativo appeared as someone who avoided conflict most of the time. But that was a lie. His whole point was the avoidance of unwanted consequences; she believed it to be all a lie. Something he hid behind, even from himself. Sooner or later, he would break free, and it would be her job to convince people to let that monster control everything. So yes, she had a lot to prepare for.
Speaking of the avians, they had turned out to be pretty interesting people. She had learnt a little of their language during their together to known two things for certain. When that group thought of the devil, all they saw was Mativo. And they were actually pretty docile. Mativo just said something wrong and they felt that they needed to defended themselves. She had yet to learn what he said wrong. She did plan on paying that planet a visit when she got the chance to.
“Are you even listening?” Matt asked her, bringing her out of thoughts.
“No. I mean, yes.” After she realized she was completely out of it, she gave up. “What are we even talking about?”
“Seroiusly mom,” her son complained.
“You know, it’s starting to feel weird hearing you call her mom,” Mũsango said.
“Not really. Even though she does kind of look younger than you now,” Cindy said.
“He was talking about this girl in engineering that asked him out,” Pon helped her out. No one else seemed to want to.
“Interesting, tell me about it!” she said giddily, nearly jumping up and down on her chair.
Everyone on the Mess table went silent. “What?” she asked, looking around nervously. Had she said something wrong, she wondered.
“You said those exact same words not ten minutes ago,” Jacy told her. She was sitting at one end of the table, with Kacy on the opposite end. The farthest the two could get from each other. They seemed to be going through periods of interest and disinterest. She suspected they had even hooked up a couple times since the breakup.
“Any way, she didn’t ask me out. She only asked if I wanted to have coffee together,” Kay said.
“That is what asking out means,” Cindy told him.
But he was quick to argue, “She wants to talk about the electromyography data of the Sientians.”
“Exactly, that’s your thing not hers. You were more likely to agree if she asked about something you liked,” Sylvia told him. “You did agree, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good, that’s good.” She didn’t understand why he was having issues with this particular girl. He had gone on dates before, but he was reacting different this time. Was it because he had been on the receiving end of the asking out? She didn’t think so. She liked to think she had done a pretty good job of rearing him up. Especially without his father ever contributing. Not that he knew he existed either.
“What should I do then, I want to get a second date. If it is a date.”
The suggestions flew from all sides of the table.
“Buy her flowers.”
“Wear a tuxedo.”
“Take her to the Park.”
“Rigo II would be appropriate with its large stretches of clear beaches.”
“Do we have limousines in the ship?”
Seriously, she couldn’t believe some of the things she was hearing.
“What are you all talking about?” Mativo asked after backtracking to their table, trying to employ a Midwest US accent and failing fantastically. He must have heard the barrage of suggestions.
“Nothing.” Sylvia was quick to cut him off. But Jacy was on the table too,
“Kay got asked out by a girl. He was asking for advice.”
The look he gave the table then, made her feel violated. “And you are asking this bunch?”
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked, bordering on accusation.
“Yeah, what is wrong with our advice?” Cindy backed her up.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, please enlighten us.” How could he have the guts.
“Okay!” He rubbed his hands together as if to warm them, “Where shall I begin? You—”
“No, don’t.” Jacy stopped him. And Sylvia wanted to strangle her.
“Let him speak, Jacy,” Cindy told her.
“You don’t want that. Trust me, you don’t.” She shook her head.
Mativo had already turned to Kay when Jacy stopped him. He bent low and brought his face close to Kay’s.
“She asked you, not them.” At that, he gestured to the rest of the table. “That means you did something right, not them.” And again he gestured. “If she has the guts to ask you out, she the guts to tell you when you are doing something wrong. Only she knows what she wants. And if she doesn’t, then maybe it’s not meant to be. You be you, and if it doesn’t work out, come ask for their advice. But trust me, you’ll not need it.”
He stood up then wiping his hands together, “My work here is done.” And he left.
“That wasn’t bad. Not bad at all,” Mũsango said breathily before remembering herself. “Now I feel bad for telling you to buy a tuxedo.”
“You said wear, not buy.” Kay pointed out.
“What difference does it make!?”
“I told you; you don’t want to hear what he has to say. He is always right. And I’ve tried to beat him.”
Sylvia laughed out loud then, remembering the whole chicken fiasco again. No, avian. Avian fiasco. Now it made a whole lot more sense. Even the running. They have been at it for so long that Jacy had learnt the constraints of this rightness. And she was still to break it.
What would he have said? Are there things I wouldn’t have wanted people to know?