PesKal was still viewing the nine dead in the virtual, his emotions seemed to boil over and he said:

“We must teach them!” He leaped onto one of the tables for dramatic effect and continued: “I haven’t seen much of the Miriani; I have only observed two individuals, Yim and Bemri. Based on what you all have said, we must help! We could show them how it’s done, how to build a civilized society!”

PesKal turned in place, his fins reattracting into his body – a sign of great distress.

“We mustn’t allow them to live like this. Each passing hour more Miriani suffer because of each other. Dozens of minds are dying each moment, and when we factor in accidents and aging, we are well into the hundreds!”

Matrioshka transformed into her Ankrahi form and approached PesKal. “Calm, friend.”

“How do I calm, my captain? It is just like Ankraha. Thousands of minds, trapped in biological prisons. Unknowing and blind to the world around them! They kill each other!”

Matrioshka looked to the others and privately sent them: “I will handle this, privacy please.”

Makoe and Damien vanished, and Rhea’s expression softened as she approached Matrioshka and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Good luck,” she whispered before moving back to her body in the clinic.

“I understand, PesKal.” said Matrioshka. “Can I tell you about Terra?”

That caught the Ankrahi’s attention. He stopped turning in place, and faced Matrioshka. “Yes.”

Matrioshka filled the workshop with virtual water, and presented the interface to PesKal. He accepted, and they both now swam in the simulated, cool liquid.

”It was difficult,” said Matrioshka. “Humans would kill each other often and without good reason. They would steal water, food, and they would steal what was the most important back then – money.”

Matrioshka simulated an Ankrahi leaf bed and snuggled in, offering a place for PesKal. He accepted, grabbing a leaf, and closing his eyes.

“This began to change in the 2040s – first in the wealthier nations, then over the next century and a half, almost until the 2200’s, scarcity became extinct.”

Matrioshka summoned a vision of Miriani silver, leather satchels of water, which the Miriani carried with reverence, and a horse-rabbit. “All of these are scarce; each can change the life of a Miriani in incredible ways, just as precious metals did for pre-Imperial humans.”

Matrioshka admitted: “I was never human myself, but I have spent a millennium with them in the Imperium. And I have learned how kind they can be – if they are not wanting.”

“Want, especially want born from need, is a powerful thing. The Imperium will help the Miriani. It will cure them of scarcity. There will be abundance.”

PesKal considered the other Ankrahi, his captain. “But... we must follow proper procedure?”

His lattice had begun to calm. “Yes. The Director of Expansion is a capable mind; they would not have devised such procedures if they were not necessary.”

Matrioshka offered him her hands, the palms downturned.

PesKal recognised the gesture; he had shown it first to Matrioshka some time ago, on Jane’s World. He responded, placing his palms below Matrioshka’s, reaffirming his trust in her.

“Thank you, captain.” PesKal said, his fins extending and he swam outside of the leaf bed. “I am embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Matrioshka said and swam out too. “You were biological once; that will never not be the case. That is your strength. This passion you have for the living and vulnerable. While I can never fully grasp it, merely imitate.”

Matrioshka smiled and summoned the rest of the crew back. The water was removed as the three of them materialized in the virtual.

PesKal looked apologetic. “Sorry about that. I have been shaken by all this.”

“Don’t worry about it!” said Makoe with a smile, and Rhea nodded.

Damien approached the Ankrahi. “No need to apologize, friend.”

Matrioshka was proud; this sort of in-crew support was moderately rare. They would work well together. Matrioshka considered PesKal’s worries, and said:

“I have certain liberties I can invoke… as a decorated officer in the Directory of Expansion.”

Makoe was intrigued. “How decorated?”

Matrioshka smiled, excitement creeping onto her face. “Three medals for outstanding achievement, one Shield of Sanctuary, two commendations for Cognitive Advancement of the Imperium… and an Imperator’s Gratitude.”

Damien’s eyes widened: “You have a Gratitude!?”

Makoe whistled. “Doesn’t the Imperator give that like… maybe once every couple of centuries?”

“Yes. It does,” supplied Rhea, watching Matrioshka with an amused grin.

Matrioshka was grinning ear to ear, and blushed when she saw Rhea watching her. “Proud of ourselves, are we?” Rhea asked.

Matrioshka cleared her throat. ”Well… I am.”

PesKal asked: “Why do you not wear these commendations on your person, captain?”

“Ugh. How would shiny, scintillating with color, awe-inspiring, medals look on me?” Matrioshka twirled, showing off her black dress and pointing to her dark makeup.

Makoe nodded: “They would ruin the aesthetic.”

“Exactly,” said Matrioshka. “But anyhow, I have been granted leave by the Director to weave certain rules in very exceptional circumstances… And I think this qualifies, given the sentient stars and all…”

“Which rules can you weave?” asked PesKal.

Matrioshka thought about it. “Let’s say… Article 7, Section 1, Designation 3.” She watched her crew access the data and read;

Imperial Code Article 7 - Section 1 - Designation 3;

No mind, which is not a member of the Subdirectory of Sanctuary, may influence or introduce unknown knowledge to a pre-FTL culture.

Under penalty of mind imprisonment.

Minimum sentence: 50 years.

“We may guide them?” asked PesKal, fins quivering.

“Gently! No paradigm-shifting technology!”

“Then this is acceptable?” asked Damien and forwarded his curriculum. If thought well, the mathematical proofs within could accelerate the Miriani considerably.

Matrioshka decided: “It is, but just barely.”

Rhea asked: “And what of medicine? It is paradigm-shifting, but it could save as much as 56% of Miriani which would otherwise die before the Imperium arrived.”

“Sure. But no genetic rejuvenation. That would be a step too far.”

Rhea smiled. “I doubt any Miriani can grasp the volume of information needed for that particular technology. But thank you. This will save thousands.”

PesKal went to ask: “And can I-”

Matrioshka held her hands up. “Alright, alright. You guys use your best judgment, and I will oversee everything through the Enslavement bonds.”

“Oh,” said Makoe. “I had almost forgotten we had those.”

“I haven’t…” said Rhea, giving a level stare to Matrioshka.

By this point, Matrioshka had learned to read Rhea’s expression. This wasn’t a taunt, nor defiance. Rhea was just being cute.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Matrioshka smiled at her. Surprised, Rhea grinned back.

“Then we are in accord.” announced Rhea, and vanished.

The rest of the crew returned to their bodies, and Matrioshka followed. She had switched to the nanites and her lattice, below a tall tree in the palace courtyard.

A flying creature landed on one of the trees above Matrioshka. Matrioshka floated next to it in the virtual. It was agile, three-eyed, and had two sets of leather wings. Thin and slick fur coated its body. It grabbed at the crust of the tree with its jaw, tearing a piece of it away. As it jumped and flew, Matrioshka created a copy of it out of nanites, sprouting like a flower just above Matrioshka’s lattice.

Then three more appeared, and Matrioshka placed one of her sensors into each. She sent four more sensors, enveloped by nanites, to dig through the soil of Rosamond’s World and encompass the underground portion of the palace.

Just two sensors remained among the nanites guarding her lattice. And one was in her body.

The nanite creatures, called crow-bats in PesKal’s language pack, spread across the palace. With careful placement, Matrioshka could see the majority of the structure.

By this time both the Empress and the Emperor had risen, low on the horizon. Their light was warm, and a firm breeze pushed against the crow-bats as they flew. Matrioshka explored the palace in the virtual; hundreds of servants worked to provide comfort to the royal family, of which Matrioshka saw seven members.

Prince Ketri was sitting on a pillow below ground, a teacher was instructing him. The Prince made a mistake and was swiftly corrected.

An aunt of Ketri was inspecting some gowns, chatting with the nearby maid. Two of her children, both girls, were playing with stuffed animals next to her.

Rumel, the head of the guard and Ketri’s uncle, was discussing what to do with the assassins when he was alerted by another guard to the arrival of the High-Cardinal.

Matrioshka paid some more attention to that;

“He is here already?” asked Rumel, walking briskly through a stone tunnel towards the front of the palace.

“Yes, Lord Defender. The High-Cardinal requests an urgent address with the Stars.” the guard explained.

Matrioshka’s attention flew to the front, her crow-bat landing atop a nice perch, within clear sensor range to the guests.

The High-Cardinal was a golden-furred Miriani near the end of his life. He wore a gown of solid gold – heavy on his body. He hung and laboured under its weight. As a headpiece, he wore an aging black helmet. With fascination, Matrioshka recognized the material as woven carbon – nanotubes. He was also missing one eye; below a silver eye-patch, where once was the ocular organ, stood empty space.

Nanotubes. The Miriani do not currently possess such technology; this was a relic from Prudence.

The High-Cardinal was flanked by two serious looking apostles, heaving equally heavy and opulent golden dresses. The High-Cardinal grumbled to one of them:

“They make us wait yet again. The Binary Protectorate deserves more respect!”

A female apostle tried to placate: “They must prepare the King. We arrived earlier than is tradition.”

“Bah!” the High-Cardinal dismissed with a wave of his hand.

Rumel had knocked on a vast wooden door, it had the height of six full-grown Miriani, and ten of them could stand abreast to cover its width. One of Matrioshka’s sensors burrowed closer, where it confirmed by way of scan, the presence of the King.

King Orak, was Ketri’s brother no doubt, a full genetic match, and was some eleven years older than the younger prince. He had just finished a bath, and wore only a blue robe to cover his body, and poorly at that. He opened the door.

Rumel’s eyes widened as he saw the King. The two guards that were with him promptly looked away.

“My King,” said Rumel. “The High-Cardinal is here. A conversation with the Stars is in order.”

The King was dubious. “This late? I was just getting ready for bed…”

“Well, the Cardinal is here now.” explained Rumel.

“So be it…” said the King. “Fetch maid Tyara, with those dresses I wore last spring to the gala in the 9th.”

One of the guards went to complete their King’s command.

“Did they say what we will speak of?” asked the King.

Rumel looked at the king plainly. “I’d imagine it could be either the explosion in the sky, the brightening of Oliver’s World, or the assassination attempt on the prince.”

“Don’t get coy with me uncle.” The king warned, but was grinning. He massaged the tips of his ears, which released calming chemicals within his brain. A method to address lack of sleep perhaps?

“How is Ketri?” he asked.

“He is well, my King,” replied Rumel, as an older main, Tyara by her id, pushed passed him carrying freshly cleaned clothes. “He is still shaken. But he will recover.”

The King smiled as the maid began to dress him. “Sturdy he is. Like father used to be.”

Rumel considered what to say. He decided on: “He misses you.”

The King sighed, emotions battling within his brain. “And he will continue to miss me.” the king set his jaw. “I have better things to do.”

Matrioshka spied anger rising within Rumel, but from the King – only shame.

Rumel nodded and said nothing further. As the King was dressed, and he inspected his likeness within a mirror, they walked to the roof of the palace. They met the Cardinal and his apostles on their way up. The apostles bowed to the King, and the Royal Guards bowed to the Cardinal.

The King and the Cardinal nodded to each other.

“Hidden Day, King Orak.” said the Cardinal.

The King smiled: “Hidden Day, most esteemed Cardinal.”

The group proceeded to the up-most level, and approached a small room, just the King and The Bishop entered.

“I will be just outside, my King.” said Rumel.

The King’s heartbeat sped up, and he nodded. Rumel closed the door to the small room. Now the king and the bishop stood abreast within. The walls of the room were of white stone, engraved with gold – a most sacred element Matrioshka gathered.

The High-Cardinal eyed another door, it was solid platinum and led onto a rooftop terrace, high atop the palace. It was now the Cardinal’s turn, to have his heartbeat heightened.

“Ready, my King?” he asked.

The King nodded, and the Cardinal opened the door. The two of them stepped out, onto the smooth stone floor of the terrace. They both had their head’s bowed, eyes downturned across the painted floor – where there was a visage of the two stars, dancing in a circle, with all the colors of the rainbow radiating outwards.

The King stood atop one of the pale-yellow circles, and the Cardinal on the other. They both bowed to each other in silence. The Cardinal looked towards the stars, his eyes nearly closed. One of Matrioshka’s crow-bats fluttered onto a nearby ledge, and the Cardinal proclaimed aloud:

“Thus, in your presence, stands your most dedicated child. In his presence, a vessel of your kin. We bow to your majesties and heed your attention. Descend onto us, Binary Light.”

The King continued, now kneeling harder, placing his forehead to the floor:

“I am naught before you, my ancestors. I am a vessel, unworthy of your name. Heed the words of those who know you. Heed the words of the man before me. Descend onto us, Binary Light.”

Two voices enveloped the King and High-Cardinal; were it not for the sensors within the crow-bat, nobody but the two Miriani would hear the delicate words.

“We are here.” said the Emperor and Empress.

“You grace us with your presence,” The Cardinal finally looked away from the suns. “We have matters to discuss with you, Binary Light.”

“As do we with you, our little ones.” said the Light.

The King remained where he was, on his knees, forehead firmly on the stone.

“Please, you first, Great Light.”

The air vibrated around the two Miriani. Matrioshka interpreted it as enjoyment.

The Light said: “The Giant has sent its demons to haunt you. Born from fire. They fell in Daynight upon your world.”

The King’s eyes widened; he slammed them shut quickly.

The Cardinal stammered: “Then- Then it was the Giant’s doing. The explosion we saw.”

“Yes. Take great care, our little ones,” warned the Light. “They are of the Giant - shapeshifters, magicians. Close your ears in their presence, lest they invade your mind.”

“Demons…” the Cardinal was trembling. “How do we find them?”

“Ah. They are not of this world. They do not burn in your fire. But they do in ours. Flush them out, into our light. We shall cleanse your world of their pestilence.”

“Thank you. Oh, great Light, thank you,” The Cardinal said, clutching a pendant of the two stars on his chest. He continued: “And what of Oliver’s World, your greatness?”

“Demons,” replied the stars, the air trembling painfully. “Dealt with.”

The Cardinal sensed it was time to change the topic. “The Protectorate has issued new gift lists. There shall be 11 heretics for your enjoyment next Day, blessed Light.”

“Good. How they shall burn in our light,” The ground shook gently. “They shall glow as our blood. They shall know our grace.”

The Cardinal smiled: “Thank you, our Light. For giving them the gift of your touch.” He turned towards the kneeling King and considered him for a moment. Then he turned towards the stars again, not meeting their gaze. He said:

“King Orak wishes to report on the issues encountered with the Disgraced Kingdoms.”

“We shall hear his words.” allowed the stars.

The High-Cardinal moved next to the King; he copied his position, kneeling, face to the floor. The King rose then and walked over to the other circle. He said:

“Thank you, Binary Light.”

The stars roared; “Speak faster, child! Our light is tainted by your presence.”

The King winced, blood lightly flowing from his ears. He continued: “The seers predict an incoming drought lasting 35 years - this will bring the Disgraced Kingdoms over the edge - they will rebel. We will be disunited. I beseech you, Light, let me lead an army during your reign.”

The Light laughed, the air and the palace shook in its rhythm. “Oh, to be as old as we. To see this dance played over onto infinity. You wish to subjugate, our child? Like we subjugated?”

“Yes. My Light.”

The Light seemed to think for a moment. “Let it be so. We grant you permission to lead your armies during Blessed Day. We shall not strike you down.”

“Greatest gratitude, grand Light,” bowed the King, and asked: “And one final thing. My younger brother was attacked last Daynight, I ask for your advice.”

“Demons, no doubt. Redouble your efforts to seek them out. Look for the unnatural, look for magic.”

“Thank you, Light.” said the King, and bowed deeply.

The air ceased to vibrate, and both the Cardinal and the King made their way to the small room. They closed it behind them, and looked to each other. Their breathing was heavy. They placed a hand on each other’s shoulders, steadying themselves.

“That was good.” said the King.

The High-Cardinal cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes indeed. The Light was in a good mood this Day. Still have my eye.”

The two of them rejoined their entourage within the palace. With haste, they walked towards the lower levels. The royal guard relaxed once they saw the King unharmed.

Rumel asked the King as they walked: “What of your plans?”

The King smiled. “We are blessed by the Stars. We may attack.”

Rumel looked away. Once again, Matrioshka saw anger bloom within his mind. Saying nothing, the Lord Defender marched on.

Overhearing the exchange, the High-Cardinal asked: “It is true then? We shall finally rid the world of the Disgraced?”

King Orak smiled; his mind ablaze with excitement; “Yes. We shall exterminate every single one. By the blessing and grace of the Light.”

Matrioshka asked the crew: “How many Miriani live in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Kingdoms? And how many are Disgraced?”

Damien responded: “Well, based on the Academy records, somewhere between 7 and 9 million.”

Matrioshka’s lattice spiked.

They plan a genocide.