“Are you shitting me?” Karashel exclaimed in shock.

“Shitting you?” Jalabel, the Baleel Foreign Minister, asked, very confused. “Is that a human saying? I haven’t heard that one yet.”

“Yes!” Karashel yelled, “And a very apt one! It means are you joking?!?”

“I like it!” Jalabel replied cheerfully, “and no, I am most certainly not ‘shitting you’,” she giggled. “Sorry, that summons such an image!”

“Glad you fucking like it!” Karashel grumbled. “How… how long do we have?”

“We can’t make the next payments,” Jalabel replied in a matter of fact tone. “In two months, we officially go into default.”

Karashel just sat there looking at Jalabel’s image helplessly. How did they get themselves in this position? She knew it was “bad,” but she had no idea!

The world started to blur and shift as her mind began to slow down.

“Hey! Don’t freeze on me, Karashel!” Jalabel yelled. “I need you here, dammit!”

“S-sorry,” Karashel muttered. “But why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because I’ve been reviewing your computer.”

“Oh geez,” Karashel groaned, “Look, I was out of my mind on—“

“You are right.”

“What?”

“You are one hundred percent correct. All of it… You’re right. It is this ‘colonialism’ you are talking about, and it is exploitation, and it is predation, and we are going to be brought down by it unless we do something.”

“What are we going to do?” Karashel asked, desperately trying to keep her mind in sync with reality.

“We’re still trying to figure that out on our end. But… Karashel… we’ve… I’ve...”

“You’ve what?”

“I listened to the music on your computer, really listened!”

“Oh no...”

“Oh yes!” Jalabel said, her eyes glistening, “The Prime Minister too, and we are giving it to others as well. It… It’s so right. It’s...”

“A drug, ma’am,” Karashel said grimly.

“You’re telling me!” Jalabel exclaimed, “That shit is awesome! But that doesn’t make it wrong. Karashel, tell me, right now, tendril to breath, do you still believe it, what you wrote, what’s in those songs.”

Karashel took a deep breath. Was this a trick?

Only one way to find out.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Good,” Jalabel replied. “Fuck them up.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Federation has our breath hole in the mud. We aren’t going to last much longer, and we have decided not to go down without a fight. Do whatever you have to do. If we have any hope of… ever… Oooh la la ah oui oui… we can’t go into management!”

“Ooh la la what the fuck are you talking about?”

Jalabel made an exasperated gurgle.

“Run the Jewels? Greg Nice?, DJ Premier?, Killer Mike? It’s on your fucking playlist, girl!”

“A lot of stuff is on my playlists...”

“Well fucking listen to that one. That’s what we want, for us! We want some of that Oooh la la, and we want you to Fuck the King or Queen and all the loyal subjects, whip out your dick and piss on their shoes in public!” Jalabel said with an excited giggle. “We want maximum stupid!”

“Sounds like you are well on your way there,” Karashel said dubiously.

“We want to usher in chaos, and we want to do it smiling!”

“Well, before we start pissing on shoes and ushering in chaos, perhaps we should focus on maybe not going bankrupt?”

“Yeah, whatever! These fuckers corrupted and up to somethin’ disgustin’! We gotta shut that shit down!”

Karashel took a deep sigh. So this is what she sounded like? Ugh.

“Minister Jalabel,” Karashel said carefully, “It sounds like you have a touch of what the Xx call Xvakk’Keen, or knowledge madness. You need to go home, make a nice cup of tea, and get some sleep.”

“I can’t!” Jalabel said excitedly, “We are having a party tonight… a music party.”

“Oh, by the Ancient Gardeners...” Karashel said quietly, “Ma’am, that is probably not a good idea.”

“Of course it isn’t!” Jalabel exclaimed. “Nothing is a good idea, nothing has been a good idea for years, but at least now we can put it to a nice dance beat!”

“Ma’am, please,” Karashel begged, “You can have a music party tomorrow or the next day. What all of you have to do is—“

“Tell me, Karashel,” Jalabel whispered as she leaned in far too close to the camera, obscuring most of the picture. “Do you have a… a… sex playlist? (giggle)”

“A what?!?”

“You know, good videos to fuck to!”

“Um… no?” Karashel replied in pure unadulterated horror.

“You gotta work on your priorities, girl! The Prime Minister himself wants one!”

Oh my Creators!!!

“Oh, by the way, he is packing!” Jalabel exclaimed happily, “I mean, he is smuggling an exotic through customs! And the things he can do with it! Damn! Hrexalel is a lucky woman!”

Karashel just stood there frozen with horror as Jalabel happily started talking about how Terran music cures erectile dysfunction.

“… and let me tell you, the loss of the Prime Ministers doo-hickey was a loss to all of Baleel kind! It’s a fucking cultural treasure! Oh! Hrexalel is so happy with your discovery she says you can take him out for a ride any time you want!”

“Please stop,” Karashel said weakly.

“Oh! Where is the Xx Ambassador? I wanna talk to him!”

“NO!” Karashel shouted frantically. “Um… I’ll talk to him!”

“Oooooh…. Keeping that asset to yourself, huh?” Jalabel said with a very moist wink. “Clever! Tell him that we are totally on board with an educational exchange and will be sending him as many people as he will fucking take! But we aren’t sending him fucking scientists, fuck that noise! Who cares about that shit!”

“Then what are you going to send?” Karashel asked, bracing for the worst.

“Economists!” Jalabel shouted, “Fucking public policy experts! We gotta get some of that ooh la la! We gotta find out how to get from where we are to where they are, and they didn’t get there with a hyperdrive… Oh! Historians! We need some of those too! Maybe some lawyers? Shit. Hey! Ask him, will ya?”

“I will, but if you want me to do anything, anything at all, I am going to need you to do something.”

“Name it, sister!”

“Reschedule the music party for two days. You and anyone else who has fed Terran music through a neural interface go home, drink some slake, and go to sleep. I am not doing a goddamn thing until you do.”

“But Karashel, It’s—“

“I know exactly what it fucking is!” Karashel snapped. “Trust me, I know exactly what this is, and unless you want to wind up where I did, you will do exactly what I say. If you and the Prime Minister and everyone else on our side wind up naked in the woods wrestling with the local wildlife, we won’t be able to shove it up in the ceiling tiles like you were able to do with me. It will be all over the news, and you will all be bundled off to the hospital. Your careers—“

“Fuck my career! I don’t care about that shit anymore.”

“Well, you should!” Karashel snapped. “You want this ‘Ooh la la?’”

Jalabel nodded.

“More than anything!”

“Then trust me. We are Baleel. We don’t do ‘fast’ very well at all, but we can do slow better than anyone in the galaxy. Don’t be fast. Be slow.”

“Be slow?”

Karashel nodded.

“Be slow. We have time to figure all of this out, but right now, you, the Prime Minister, and anyone else on your little crazy slime slope needs to just drink a nice big cup of slake and go to bed.”

“Can we go to bed together?”

“… sure,” Karashel said as she facepalmed. “All of you go, drink slake, and fuck each other’s brains out. In the meantime, I will start trying to figure out exactly how to keep our collective pores out of management.”

“You will?” Jalabel asked with child-like hope in her eyes.

“I promise, but you have to promise me to get some sleep, ok?”

“(giggle) Fuck the King or Queen and all the loyal subjects!”

“I will, I promise,” Karashel said, wincing.

“And you will talk to the ambassador?”

“I will,” Karashel replied. “And what are you going to do?”

“Have a music party!”

“No!” Karashel snapped. “What are you going to do?”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Go home with the Prime Minister and his wife and sleep with them!”

“Close enough,” Karashel replied, “You go do that right now, ok?”

“OK!” Jalabel shouted.

“Bye,” Karashel replied.

“Bye!” Jalabel responded.

“That means you hang up.”

“No, you hang up!”

“Whatever,” Karashel grumbled and terminated the call.

She turned her eyestalks skyward and let loose a long anguished scream. She was NOT supposed to be the reasonable one!

This was just wrong.

As she turned to leave the communications center, she paused. If they are where she was, there is no way in all of the void kissed Hells that they were going to just go to sleep even without the five-threes!

She stared helplessly at the controls of the Xx communications center. She needed to call someone she could trust to go idiot gathering.

After a few moments, she cautiously pressed an icon on the screen.

Oh, thank the Progenitors! It was ‘redial’.

In a few moments, a Baleelan soldier appeared on the screen.

“Councilor Karashel!”

“Hello, Sergeant,” Karashel said as calmly as she could muster, “Could you please get me the Deputy Prime Minister, please.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the sergeant said dubiously.

“Oh shit, is he being ‘weird’, too?”

“Um, yes, ma’am.”

“How about the majority leader?”

“Um...”

“Fuck,” Karashel groaned. “Who isn’t being weird?”

***

Assistant Vice Deputy Veelabel grabbed her coat and stormed out of the building.

She had seen far too much of far too many people for one day… for one lifetime!

In all of her years in politics, she thought she had seen it all…

Nope! Not even close!

As she was undulating with a purpose towards the parking garage, her phone rang.

She answered.

A few moments later, she sighed, hung up…

...and started undulating back.

She wasn’t getting paid enough for this shit.

***

Karashel sighed a breath of relief. Vee was good people and had been there for years. She would be able to get them all somewhere quiet and away from the press.

Crisis averted.

Once again, her mind started to shut down.

Thank the Ancient Gardeners was one of the last truly “verbal” thoughts that flickered across her “fast brain”. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to reach “here” again.

Her senses started to become more acute as she could feel everything, taste everything.

This was nice, being still like this, her “fast brain” shut down and silent and her “slow brain” fully awake.

Now she could actually think, think like a Baleel.

What a mess. Oops! That’s a thought!

Stop it! Stop thinking! St...o...p…...t…..h….i….n…………………………….k……………………..

Things started to speed up around her. She was aware of the climate control cycling faster and faster. She could feel the vibrations of Xx running around comically quickly, their high-pitched squeaky voices shaking the walls…

So funny! So frantic! Always rushing about! So smart but moving so fast that they miss the little things…

...just like everyone else!

You’re thinking fast again! Stop….. t….h………………………...i……………..n…………………..k…………….

There!

An awareness filled her. It was getting easier to do this.

Very distinct footsteps shook the very planet, each footfall sounding like a thunderclap.

Caw was coming.

The door flew open in a blur as a Caw shaped blur squeaked… something or another…

Whatever it was, it was certainly less important than what she was pondering.

Caw was really screeching now and starting to shake her.

A non-verbal awareness floated past, the sense that it could be danger, followed by another “complete thought” informing her that if it was truly a crisis, they would just put her on one of those carts and move her somewhere safe…

Amusing.

Back to the problem at hand…

***

“Doctor!” Caw screeched over a communicator at a rather startled Baleel that was being physically tossed into an embassy grav-car, “She isn’t breathing! She isn’t breathing!”

“Are you certain she isn’t breathing, or does she just look like she isn’t breathing?” the doctor replied with surprising calm as the grav-car illegally broke the sound barrier over the city.

“What difference does it make?!?”

“If she is truly not breathing, then she’s dead, and there’s nothing I can do,” the doctor replied. “If she just appears to not be breathing, then she isn’t dead, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“What?!?”

The grav car slammed to a stop in front of the Xx Embassy, where it was met by two Xx and a grav-cart. The doctor was unceremoniously tossed onto the cart, and the Xx sprinted through the building.

In a few moments, the slightly annoyed Baleel was confronted by a nearly hysterical Caw.

“Hmm,” the doctor said with a complete lack of urgency. “No breath… and no pulse...”

“She’s DEAD?!?” Caw screeched in anguish.

“Probably not,” the doctor shrugged. “Hard to say at the moment.”

“IS SHE DEAD OR NOT?!?”

“Well, her electrolyte levels are stable, and her turgor pressure is good. She’s probably not dead.”

“HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW IF SHE’S DEAD OR NOT?!?”

“It is a very high probability that she isn’t dead?” the doctor said, continuing to scan.

“Doctor,” Caw said, taking a deep breath. “I’m trying VERY HARD not to FREAK OUT right now. Explain to me HOW a presumably skilled physician CAN’T KNOW if a member of their species is DEAD!!!”

“Councilor,” the Baleean doctor said calmly and carefully, “I can tell you that I am almost certain that she isn’t dead.”

“ALMOST CERTAIN?!?”

“Our species has a few ‘quirks’.”

“A FEW?!?”

“Just a couple,” the doctor said with a “reassuring” smile. “One of the things that sometimes happens is that we can ‘freeze’ or go completely dormant, just like this. We aren’t sure why. We think it might be a defensive adaptation that would make us less visible or appealing to predators, or perhaps it’s a vestigial hibernation reflex. Regardless of its source, if a Baleel undergoes an extreme amount of stress, this can sometimes happen, and once it does, determining whether or not a Baleel is actually dead can be a bit of a challenge, even today. In an extreme case, our hearts can stop completely for a protracted period of time, and neural activity can become non-detectable.”

“So, how do you tell if they are still alive?”

“We usually wait and see if they start to smell?” the doctor replied, his ears preemptively filling with slime.

He knew what was about to happen.

“SKREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” Caw screamed. “You HAVE to be fucking KIDDING ME!”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t you wake them up somehow?”

“Not when they are like this,” the doctor replied. “Once someone goes ‘flat-line,’ nothing can bring them back. In fact, the harder you try, the deeper it seems to drive them into this state. The only thing to do is keep them comfortable, moist, and if necessary, run a serum and electrolyte drip. It usually isn’t necessary, though. They usually perk back up, usually… most of the time… It’s damned inconvenient, I tell you.”

“… inconvenient… unbelievable...” Caw muttered to himself.

“Right,” the doctor replied. “We’ll transport her back home and keep an eye on her. I’ll let you know if, um, I mean when she recovers or if we manage to detect a pulse.”

“How long does it usually take to recover?” Caw demanded, clutching the sides of his head.

The doctor winced.

“Um...”

“How long?” Caw hissed.

“I don’t know.”

Caw took a deep, steadying breath.

“How can’t you know how long?”

“Could be hours, could be months. With electrolyte and nutrient levels like this, she could be in this state for weeks before we even start to consider running IVs and starting lymph massage. You don’t want to start life support too soon. The body usually knows when it has to start back up… usually. In fact, starting life support too soon has been determined to be a contributing cause to permanent flat-line. In some cases, when life support was finally discontinued, even after years, the patient has spontaneously awakened sometimes during their funeral, which can be a bit awkward.”

“You people make no sense!!!” Caw screeched. “Seriously! No sense! None!”

“Hey!” the doctor said cheerfully. “A heartbeat! She’s fine! Just toss her on one of these carts and help me wheel her out to the car.”

“Unbelievable!” Caw screeched as he stormed off.

“When she comes to, tell her to go and FUCK HERSELF!!!” Caw shouted over his shoulder as he slammed his office door shut.

***

That’s it! Holy shit! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Karashel burst into malicious laughter as she awoke.

She looked around.

She was in her bathtub back in her apartment.

“Oops,” she chuckled. It must have taken longer than she thought it would.

She noticed a vitals monitor stuck to her flank. She reflexively reached for it, paused, and reached for her phone, conveniently charging nearby.

That was nice of them.

Three days?

She hurriedly opened her email and breathed a sigh of relief as she read the latest one from the Foreign Minister. It seems that the little impromptu music festival was discreetly managed, and Vee was getting one hell of a raise after she gets back from a long and well deserved vacation.

After a quick call to the doc and a somewhat less quick call to Caw, she headed down to the communications room.

“Back among the living, I see,” Jalabel said with a smirk.

“I could say the same about you,” Karashel grinned in reply.

Jalabel laughed.

“Things back to normal up there?” Karashel asked.

“I don’t know if ‘normal’ is the right word, but everyone is back on the job. In fact, things are going great up here. By the way, if you see a data cable hanging over a door latch, don’t go in there!”

“Oh dear Creators,” Karashel laughed.

“Privately, we are working together so much better now,” Jalabel laughed. “We should have had our minds assaulted by Terran music and had an orgy years ago! You won’t believe how much nicer the atmosphere is around here, and I’m actually looking forward to going to work for the first time in so long!”

“I can imagine,” Karashel snarked.

“Not just that, (but it is one hell of a perk!)” Jalabel replied, “But we are actually doing something or at least beginning to lay the groundwork for real changes! We’ve all calmed down a bit, but you would be astonished at not only how many people are receptive to change but who is receptive! Oh! We completely blew the Xx’s mind!”

“Oh Progenitors!” Karashel exclaimed. “You promised me you wouldn’t talk to them!”

“Well, we had no idea how long you were going to be on vacation,” Jalabel replied. “And don’t worry, Vee kept us locked up and away from phones until we had a good night’s sleep. When we told them that we were sending economists, policy experts, historians, legal scholars and why… I think they might have burst into tears! Needless to say, they are one thousand percent on board with this and damn near doing handsprings! Karashel… MetAgra is on board! Can you believe it?!? The board of MetAgra wants in…, and they want more tunes! How do we get more tunes?”

“How did you get the one percent on board?!?”

“Easy,” Jalabel laughed. “I’m part of that one percent! I can speak their language… and the fact that most of them are painfully aware of exactly how fucked we are certainly doesn’t hurt. The promise that their children and grandchildren will be able to not only be free but enjoy a lifestyle that may very well be as good or better than theirs is a pretty easy sell, actually. Of course, there is a bit more to it, but that’s our problem, not yours. Now, about those tunes, where do we get more?”

“The archives?”

“That has to be watered down or something. We want Terran tunes… from Terra!”

“I’ll see what I can do… Right after I deliver the goods.”

“What do you mean?” Jalabel asked.

“I wasn’t just taking a nap,” Karashel replied. “I was thinking with my slow brain.”

“Ok, drugs, sedition, Terran brain music, and all the rest I’m cool with, but now you are going all enlightenment age on me? Should I send you a quartz vibrator now?”

“Why don’t you just buzz yourself with it while I tell you what my ‘slow brain’ delivered instead...”

A few moments later, Jalabel looked at Karashel with a mixture of shock, horror, and awe.

“That’s… that’s...” she stammered.

“We have lost so much about what it means to be a Baleel and not just since first contact,” Karashel said, “We have it all wrong, all of it. We weren’t prey, at least not always. Next time you start to ‘freeze’, don’t fight it. Go with it. Those enlightenment dweebs have it wrong too. The slow brain is how we hunted, and it’s how we will take every one of these fuckers down. You can’t fight what you can’t see coming, and by the time any of them realize what is happening, they will be on the slope, and there will be nothing they can do.”

“But, Karashel,” Jalabel said, “If you get caught, we can’t protect you. I know we said we would back you, but this...”

“Nor should you,” Karashel smiled. “If I get caught, you need to condemn the fuck out of me, but I won’t get caught.”

“Ok,” Jalabel replied. “I will make the arrangements on our end and get you the data you need.”

“Then I will start immediately,” Karashel smiled. “It’s going to take me a while to get in position for my next ‘strike’.”

***

Corporal Jacobi walked through the blasted remains of Avalon Park, the site of the Porkietown Massacre.

“Hi!” a xeno voice happily burbled.

She looked around, holding an AK at the ready.

“Over here!” A tendril slowly raised out of the rubble.

“Hello?” Jacobi asked dubiously, casually flicking the safety to the fire position while still keeping the weapon at patrol ready.

“Where is your super gun?”

“Why don’t you come on out where I can see you?”

“Ok!” the voice replied.

Jacobi looked in disbelief as what appeared to be a pile of rubble detached itself from the rest of the rubble and “oozed” out into the path in front of her.

“Hello,” the trash pile said cheerfully. “I’m Councilor Karashel of the Baleean people, and I want to talk to your commanding officer, please.”

***

About an hour later, Karashel, still covered in debris, was sitting comfortably in a reinforced and shielded basement, sipping a nice cup of electrolyte fortified tea with a nice person in grey fatigues standing behind her on her left and on her right (with the nifty super duper guns!).

A man also clad in grey fatigues walked in carrying a rather strange looking device that looked a lot like a cheap laptop.

He opened it and set it with the screen facing her.

A few moments later, the screen flickered to life.

On it, Jessica Morgan smiled.

“Good Evening, Counselor Karashel,” she said pleasantly.

“Hi!” Karashel replied brightly.

“Up to a bit of naughtiness, are we? According to your profile, you’re supposed to be a good girl.”

“Well, it’s like they say in one of your ancient songs, ‘Good girls go to heaven, but bad girls, they get backstage’.”

“You do realize what happens to those ‘bad girls’ once they get backstage, don’t you?”

“Will that work?” Karashel asked cheerfully, “’cause I’m down...”

Jessica burst into a peal of genuine laughter.

“I like you,” Jessica said, still laughing. “So, what brings you here this lovely evening?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Karashel said happily, “Boy, do I have a deal for you!”