Caw and Karashel entered a fenced in open area where a small group of Aat were clustered around a large circular bare patch of ground with shallow pits dug in it.

In the circle were clusters of small spheres.

One of the Aats flicked its wrist sending another sphere rolling into the circle at high speed and into one of the clusters, scattering it, and sending several beautifully engraved spheres rolling into the holes. The sphere that he cast rolled out of the circle and he walked over and picked it up, remaining where it rolled.

The other Aats all made approving sounds, except for one standing on the other side of the circle.

It didn’t look happy.

“Clash of the titans!” Caw exclaimed happily. “We are in for a treat! Well, at least I am,” he said and rushed over to the circle.

Karashel, now quite used to being confused, followed.

“They are playing ‘Stones’,” Caw said quietly. “It’s a quite intriguing game, a combination of accuracy and strategy. Bujo”, he said nodding towards one of the players, “And Leeilee,” he said nodding towards the unhappy Aat now readying a sphere, “are masters of the game.”

Karashel watched as Leeilee sent her sphere skittering through the circle, clipping a sphere and sending both it and her sphere out of the circle. Leeilee then retrieved both. standing where her casting stone stopped.

Bujo readied his sphere and sent it into the circle where it struck a blue sphere that broke stopping his stone.

The crowd went wild as Bujo yelled in his native tongue. Karashel didn’t know what he yelled but it sounded profane.

“A snare!” Caw shouted. “They are carefully made to fail when struck, a very dirty trick!”

Leeilee chuckled and deftly struck Bujo’s stone, sending it into a pit as the spectators cheered.

She proudly walked into the circle, picked it up, and put it into a pouch along with all the spheres in the pits.

“You sneaky sneak!” Bujo shouted. “Beautiful trap! Me no see!”

Leeilee pulled out his throwing sphere, kissed it, and put it back in her pouch.

“Want play again?” she asked, “But what do you throw with?”

“Oh go away dirty cheat,” Bujo laughed, hugging her. “Filthy dirty cheat cheat. You bring stone back. I take all your stones but no use snare.”

“You no can make snare,” Leeilee laughed and then raised a bulging marble pouch. “Eats! Me pay!” she yelled as everyone cheered.

As the crowd followed her back inside she turned to Bujo.

“You come?”

“Me talk to friend then come!” he yelled back.

“Rotten luck,” Caw said as he shook Bujo’s hand.

“Bad luck makes good luck,” Bujo replied. “She buy more than she win,” he chuckled.

“She is going to pay with those spheres?” Karashel asked.

“Yes!” Bujo exclaimed happily. “Those money stones!”

“The Aat use a very complicated bartering system on their homeworld,” Caw explained, “with many standardized rates of exchange. You need a spreadsheet to keep track of it all. Those money stones are worth a good couple of credits each.”

“If you stupid stupid and trade them,” Bujo laughed. “Me sell them to stupid Xx who think they art.”

Despite being numbed by the day Karashel still gasped in shock. Hugging an Xx was one thing. Calling them stupid to their face was another!

“Who you call stupid, stupid?” Caw laughed. “Who stupider Xx not knowing art or Aat not knowing snare stone?”

“Stupider than Xx who think he can play stones?”

“Stupider than Aat who mix red and yellow bottle?”

“You want keep playing stupid game in front of Fed? You know what I say next.”

“You win,” Caw said with a screech. “I stupidest!”

With a laugh, Caw turned to Karashel.

“Bujo, this is Karashel. Karashel, this is Bujo, a very old and dear friend of mine.”

“Nice to meetcha, Karashel,” Bujo said extending his hand. Karashel clasped his hand like he saw Caw do.

“Likewise,” she replied.

“How you know big meany?” Bujo asked.

“We just met,” Caw said, “She decided to bother me with an honest question and I was so stunned that I am actually answering it.”

“Wow,” Bujo replied. “You do good, Karashel! Caw no like Fed. What you ask?”

“I asked why he hates us.”

Bujo started laughing.

“Dat question he love answer!” he squealed. “How long he talk?”

“It’s been over an hour now...”

“He just start then,” Bujo squealed and patted Karashel consolingly.

Caw’s communicator started to ping. Grumbling he started to answer.

“What?” he asked disdainfully,”… Well, let’s put on our thinking pants and puzzle this one out. Can you do that?… Splendid… If my assistant says that I’m not in the building then am I in the building?… Wow! Aren’t you the clever one! You are doing great! Now here’s the next puzzle. If I’m not in the building then do I have any intention of meeting with you?… Well because something far more worthwhile popped up, that’s why… I’m meeting with someone actually worth my time if you must know… I assume that you stating the amount of time you waited for your appointment has some relevance?… Well?… I asked you a question. Does the amount of time you waited for your appointment or the amount of time you have been sitting like an obedient companion-animal has the slightest importance?… Well, does it?… Councilor, the Federation is a free society. We are all free to write our own destinies so I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do next. If your desire is to speak with me privately then consult with my assistant… I have no idea. That’s why I have an assistant… A month?… The fact that you already knew that clearly indicates that you already knew the basics of this situation and decided to call me anyway simply to complain. I don’t appreciate my time being wasted, Councilor… The main difference between me wasting your time and you wasting mine is that when I block your number, refuse all future appointments, and cease efforts on certain trade agreement I won’t give a shit… Oh my dear councilor, I didn’t say ‘if’ I said ‘when’… Your number is now blocked, and… Oh? A month is fine? Splendid! I am ever so glad we could rectify the situation to our mutual satisfaction. The Federation is all about cooperation and compromise after all. Oh, and councilor, may I recommend a bit more tact in the future?… Apology accepted. Have a sunny day, Councilor.”

Caw pressed a few icons on his communicator, blocking the number, and then looked up at his companions.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “I swear, the nerve of that guy. Some people are so rude.”

A giggle leaked out of Karashel. Bujo rolled his eyes.

“As you deduced, I brought you here to meet my friend and the Aats,” Caw said. “I wanted to show you an example of what we admire.”

He paused as he looked at Karashel expectantly.

“I would have expected a reaction.”

“I admit that I am mystified,” Karashel replied. “Is it their reliance on their native technology?”

“In part,” Caw replied with an approving nod. “Forgive my surprise, but you aren’t a complete idiot after all.”

“Hey!” Bujo exclaimed, “Be nice. My place you be nice.”

“But she councilor.”

“Oh, this nice then.” Bujo laughed.

“Actually,” Karashel said to Bujo, “I’m a little flustered. It’s the nicest thing he has ever said to me!”

Bujo squealed with laughter.

“Anyway,” Caw chuckled, “yes, they still have kept their native tech, something that we do find admirable but in all truth it is, much like your (ahem) medicine, answer by default. I’m not sure if you know this but Aats have extreme difficulty reading and anything beyond simple arithmetic is quite simply impossible. They can’t just start copying. So, as much as we like that about them we can’t give them full points.”

“Me try learn math,” Bujo said as his fur fluffed up. “Letters bad but I do. Numbers bad but I do. Letters and numbers?” he asked as he shuddered.

“Yeah,” Caw said patting his friend’s shoulder. “That’s about as far as we got. To his credit it took months for him to admit defeat.”

“Me no quit. Big tree you keep chopping. You no quit.”

“Well put,” Caw said. “And that is one of the points I wish to illustrate. They don’t quit. They will doggedly keep at a problem hacking at it with stone and bronze until it yields. Full literacy takes years and countless Aats, knowing full well that they are hopelessly bad at at, plug away at it even if it takes years to be able to read a simple book… You do know what a book is, right?”

“Yes, Caw, I know what a fucking book is.”

“Thank the Progenitors!”

“It’s a collection of files and images collated into a single master document for ease of-”

Caw facepalmed.

“So close!” he cried out in agony. “If only you had stopped talking!”

“(sigh) I’ll look it up… Wait… You mean a sharr!”

“Sharr?”

“Look it up,” Karashel quipped.

With an amused flick of his crest Caw pulled out his tablet. He was starting to like the little slug.

“Yes, a sharr,” Caw said after a few moments. “You still used scrolls? Huh… You do you I guess… (scroll scroll) No that would work!… Nice! (scroll!)… Wait!… With the development of printing you skipped right over plates and jumped straight to rollers! (scroll!!)… That means that you had to have already had bearings and precision machining back then? (scroll!)… What did you use to… Wait… How did you do multiple pages at once? (scroll scroll scroll)… Progenitor piss! How could you leave that out?!?… You had better have preserved one of those original presses or I swear…”

Caw brought his tablet closer to his face, staring intently at it, and scrolling like mad.

“Oh no, you show him something new,” Bujo said. “It gonna be while. I get drink. Alcohol safe?”

“No, poison.” Karashel replied.

“Pity. What about sre-water?”

“What sre-water?” Karashel asked. Their way of speaking was crude but damned if it wasn’t efficient.

“Boil sre grain and make water cold. Nice nice.”

“We love simple carbohydrates. I have scanner! I look!” Karashel replied.

Bujo disappeared into the building and returned with a glass filled with murky liquid. Karashel scanned it and finding no toxins, cautiously took a small sip.

She let out a short blast of delight from her breathing hole. It was delicious!

“You like?” Bjuo asked.

“Me like!” she exclaimed. She had never thought of making a porridge this thin. Oh she was going to try this at home!

Karashel and Bujo made small talk as Caw, completely lost in his tablet, continued to mutter and scroll.

By the time Caw looked up Bujo and Karashel were over at the marble pit where he was teaching her how to play stones.

“If he tells you that you are good enough to play for real he’s lying,” Caw chuckled as he walked up.

“She already better than you,” Bujo snickered.

“Quite interesting tidbit there, Kara,” Caw said finally putting away his tablet. “And you went from there to where you are now… tragic.”

“Yeah, we suck,” Karashel replied as she handed Bujo his marbles. “Thanks, Bujo.”

“Sorry for diving down that serpent’s burrow,” Caw said. “Where that one divergence from the normal technological path led your species is just fascinating!”

“Glad we could entertain,” Karashel replied with just a touch of sarcasm.

“Actually, this leads into the whole point of bringing you here,” Caw said. “The Aat.”

“Oh here he go,” Bujo muttered. “I go eat.” With that Bujo waved and headed into the building.

“When we made contact with the Aat, they handled it far better than almost any race,” Caw said. “They didn’t fall on their knees worshiping the sky gods or rally their armies in a panic. They just invited us in and posted a watch over their livestock. That was notable but not what really impressed us.”

“So what was?”

“Where almost every culture’s technological advancement grinds to a screeching halt theirs has exploded. They are making advancements in almost every area,” Caw said with almost a reverential tone.

“But isn’t that only to be expected?” Karashel asked. “I mean they were so far behind.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“But Kara,” Caw replied. “They can’t read. They can’t copy the archives. They can’t even really understand them. When I say their technology advanced I mean it actually advanced. Are you familiar with a hair dryer?”

“I’ll look it up,” she said in a resigned manner.

“That one I don’t fault you for,” Caw chuckled. “You have neither fur nor feathers. It’s a basic consumer product that produces a stream of warm air that will efficiently dry waterlogged feathers. They are very handy for a creature like me or the Aat. It took the Aat about a week before one of them looked at a hair dryer and realized that it created a constant stream of air. He snatched his wife’s prized possession and hooked it up to his furnace. Their furnaces rely on combustion of solid fuel and the constant stream of air increased the combustion rate and increased the temperature significantly. This then prompted them to start putting stuff in the new hotter furnaces to see what would happen. They also started salvaging materials from broken consumer items and tossing them in the furnaces as well. This resulted in a new array of alloys one of which we now use. To be honest, its primary use is decorative but it’s an actual alloy we didn’t have before.”

Caw looked at her meaningfully.

“That’s right. The simple Aat gave us technology! All they needed was a hair dryer, Kara. With just one consumer item they contributed to our tech. The Aat achieved more with that single advancement, that single contribution, than most of the Federation ever will. In fact, the Aat have given us a lot more than that. The contributions they have made to our collective knowledge are immense.”

“The Aat?”

“Yes, those little ‘stupid’ mop pushers have brought more to the table than most in the Federation. The Aat are perhaps the single greatest living repository of neolithic and bronze-age technology there is. The Kalent were likely better at neolithic technology once but that was long ago. We are still studying and recording the Aat. They have provided us so much tech.”

“But it’s all ancient stuff.”

“But a lot of it is technology we didn’t have or that we lost along the way,” Caw replied. “And before you ask it’s very important. Knowledge begets knowledge. You might not know the significance of something for years, perhaps generations, but then… BAM! An association is made! Their method of shaping stone or their method of creating a certain cutting surface might have profound implications. Even we are not wise enough to know what we will need to know in the future. It’s the height of hubris and folly to proclaim ‘We will never need to know that.’ Here, look at this.”

Caw reached into his jacket and pulled out a stone knife with a wickedly serrated blade.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Um...” Karashel said in confusion and then laughed. “Even we aren’t that dense. It’s a knife.”

“Progenitors! You scared me there for a minute,” Caw laughed. “Yes, it’s a knife, crafted from stone and wood. This was one of the first gifts I received from Bujo and why he is now one of my dearest friends and why I bought the building he operates his business from.”

“You bought him a building because he gave you a knife?”

“No, Kara. I bought him a building because he taught me how to make it, the first of many of his gifts,” Caw replied. “And I didn’t ‘buy him the building’. He leases it. I would give it to him, of course, but Aat have a real problem with getting things for free. It reeks of 'fuckery'. Fuckery is a concept that many in the Federation should embrace. If an Aat sees something too good to be true they immediately start sniffing it. It has kept them from falling into the traps that ensnare many first contact societies. No. Bujo leases the building from me and can call upon me for help dealing with any confusing “star-fuckery” that comes up but this is his business that he has built with his two little hands. Don’t be fooled by his broken Federation. That Aat is one shrewd little fucker.”

He handed the knife to Karashel.

“Careful,” he said. “That is actually sharper than most blades you will handle. It, even though it’s ‘useless’ ancient stuff, has one additional very very special trait… It isn’t identifiable as a blade. In fact, worn properly it’s practically invisible to scanners.”

“Wow!”

“Very wow,” Caw chuckled. “And with the right rock and dare to dream a bit of horn or bone I can make one in a few hours and that’s just one of the things I’ve learned from them. Now in this regard they have a bit of an unfair advantage. They just happen to possess loads of lost technology that we want, but it’s their ability to develop their own tech that makes them so special. If they are completely bewildered by something they leave it alone, but if they understand it, even a little, you can bet their little paws will be very carefully reaching into it as soon as your back is turned.”

“So they innovate? Is that it?”

“Yep. They aren’t content to just beg for scraps like the rest of you,” Caw replied. “Where you ask ‘Can you give?’ they ask ‘How do you do that?’. Even more importantly they don’t just leave it at that. You give them something and they fucking run with it. A hair dryer turns into new alloys. A few hours long lecture on agriculture becomes increased crop yields across the whole planet, not from blindly copying but from experimenting based on what you told them. Their ‘scientific method’ is a bit… um… well the Aat make it work, kinda… but they do generate advances at a startling rate… somehow…” Caw laughed. “Astonishingly nowhere near as many of their ‘scientists’ die than you would think, even if their greatest ‘tome’ of modern metallurgy comes from ‘Master Naked One-Eye’. In case you are wondering among his many discoveries was a very important observation concerning molten aluminum and water.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? They could damage a reactor or something!”

“They aren’t stupid,” Caw laughed. “They will destroy their wife’s hair dryer but they aren’t going to wreck the community’s irrigation pumps. Besides, what’s more dangerous, blowing the occasional thing up or an entire civilization stagnating and having absolutely nothing to offer, nothing to show for centuries of access to the single greatest repository of knowledge in the known galaxy?”

Caw paused for emphasis.

“And that is the big reason we loathe you so. Almost every single sophont that approaches us is grasping with an empty hand, begging for pre-packaged tech bringing nothing in return. That wouldn’t be so bad if they were asking for knowledge. They aren’t. They don’t want to know. They don’t want to understand. They just want the finished product, another fucking production instruction set. Sometimes they have the gall to skip even that and beg for actual devices!” Caw said his voice raising in anger. “Then… Then!… Then they have the gall to accuse us of hoarding our knowledge, refusing to share it. We did! We gave so much! We, with no expectation of gain, donated almost all of our knowledge! Almost all of our science, mathematics, history, art… all of it is in the fucking archives! All of it! All!” he screeched. “It’s all there! Given freely! Given! But do you little fuckers know that? Did you bother to look? You little shits claim you want knowledge! You don’t! You want fucking handouts! You want another set of designs you don’t understand to load into a machine you don’t understand!” he yelled.

Unable to contain himself he started to pace.

“Even then, we could understand. We could forgive. Because with all of the wonders you could build you could enrich the lives of your people… but you don’t! You just take and take and abuse and abuse. You could make system after system of people well provided for and safe but no… NO! That is not what you do! What do you do? Ask the Z’uush! Ask the Kaarst! Ask the Vulxeen! And they have the absolute nerve to ask us for better tools to oppress either their own people or take advantage of others!” Caw shouted. “Even the best of you have absolutely nothing to be proud of. Your people, among the best as far as things are concerned, are slowly allowing more and more of your people to slip into poverty every year! Do you care? Clearly you don’t. And yet, race after race approaches and begs for ‘knowledge’ claiming it’s ‘for their people’. Seriously?!?! Fuck all of you!” he screeched.

“And perhaps worst of all you actually had to ask why we hate you? Are you fucking blind? We like to say there are no stupid questions but damn, Kara… Damn...”

Karashel looked down as Caw gasped for breath. He was right. Even her race was guilty of every single thing he said. The only defense they had was they weren’t as horrible as others.

“Ok...” she said quietly. “I get it. I understand. Thank you.”

Tear it all down...

Caw flicked his crest. Was she being serious?

“You thank me?”

“I honestly didn’t know,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know so many things. Thank you. I really needed to hear this. We need to change. Not must the Baleel, the whole Federation.”

“Yeah, you do… we do,” Caw said patting her.

“It has to happen. We need to change things before its too late.”

Tear it all down...

“Yes, Kara, things need to change,” Caw replied. “The big question is how. Figure that one out and you-”

“By doing whatever we have to do, that’s how,” Karashel said with strange quiet voice.

“Eeee!” Caw screeched. “Whoa!... Hold on right there! Stop!”

“What?”

“That phrase and its infamous sibling, ‘by any means necessary’ are the most dangerous thoughts in history! Do you have any idea how many people those words have killed across the galaxy? Numbers beyond counting! Never ever ever think that way! Seriously! ‘The greater good’, ‘by any means necessary’, ‘the ends justify the means’, these thoughts are horribly dangerous! They are poison that kills the soul and drives people to madness! Good people become monsters and monsters gain strength with those words. Nation after nation, planet after planet, empire after empire, have burned, the innocent littering the streets! Nothing justifies ‘any means necessary’! Nothing! Even if the end result seemed a utopia it would be built on the bones of the innocent and the end result is NEVER a utopia! NEVER!… never...”

He thinks I’m dangerous? Karashel thought in amazement. He thinks I’m dangerous! A strange sense of power washed over her. She actually frightened an elder race with a single phrase! Were those words that powerful? Could a simple idea be that dangerous?

“I’m fucking serious, Kara,” Caw said gravely. “The ends NEVER justify the means. Nothing is worth ‘by any means necessary’. Do yourself a favor. Study some history. See where that sort of thinking leads. Twentieth century Earth is a fantastic period to study. There are numerous examples of what that thinking produces. Promise me you will do that, Kara. Please. I’m asking you as a friend.”

A friend?

“Ok, Caw. I will, I promise. I will do it tonight.”

“Great,” Caw smiled. “Let’s head back.”

***

Most of the day was spent when they began their return to “civilization”. As the evening began Karashel looked glumly out of the window.

The “night people” were starting to appear. Karashel looked at what was obviously a prostitute standing by the street. Instead of making a disapproving snort and looking away she really looked at her this time.

While it was a different species, the misery that the poor whore exuded was universal. For the first time Karashel found herself wondering if they were there of their own volition.

Tear it all down…

She sighed as the scene was replaced by more run down streets and shadowy figures. She saw a bus stop and a creature step off and nervously look around before rushing off, trying to stay in the light.

It’s afraid, she thought. It’s afraid to even be here.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Caw said with a little chuckle.

“I’m trying not to ask any more questions,” Karashel replied with a little snort. “I don’t think I could handle another answer right now.”

“Heh, fair enough,” Caw replied. “Seriously though, don’t be too hard on yourself. The Baleel really aren’t doing that badly, comparatively speaking.”

“We are better than the Kaarst,” Karashel replied grimly, “Yay us!”

“You just need to make a few adjustments, that’s all,” Caw said in an attempt to reassure her. He felt a little bad. Karashel was a good little slug. He hoped he hadn’t been too hard on her.

Tear it all down...

“Just a few adjustments,” she snorted. “Now I’ll make a trillion credit bet with you. No matter what I say or do those little adjustments will never happen and in a few years six percent of the Baleel will live in poverty. It’s pointless.”

“You don’t know that,” Caw replied knowing that she was probably right.

“But you aren’t taking the bet are you?”

Caw looked away.

“Thought so,” Karashel said quietly and returned to staring out of the window.

By any means necessary... she quivered at the thought. That was a much better way of saying it… and those words were powerful. They made her feel funny.

A distant alarm rang out, its piercing wail punctuating a rather grim car ride. Karashel found herself wondering if it was villainy or simple desperation that set it off.

“Um… I appreciate you mentioning your ‘sharrs’,” Caw said trying to change the subject. “It’s amazing how that influenced the development of...”

Karashel “smiled” politely and tried to pay attention but her heart really wasn’t in it. The last thing she wanted to hear was how interesting her race once was. Apparently they were very interesting indeed before they shut down and became bland little "homework copiers.”

“… and that directly influenced the development of thorium as opposed to uranium for your fission technology! Quite fascinating! I am definitely going to find out if any of those ancient printing presses have been preserved! If so I will go to your homeworld to look at them myself!”

“Be sure to bring some spare change for the beggars,” Karashel replied.

“Progenitors!” Caw snapped in exasperation. “Quit beating yourself! That’s my job! You are taking the fun out of it!”

Karashel chuckled.

“Sorry, it’s just a lot to process, you know. I’ll be fine.”

“Look, if you are really, truly serious about creating change,” Caw said, “I’ll help. The archives have detailed accounts of many, many social transitions both for good and for ill. History is a powerful tool for those who wish to influence policy, Kara. I can point you in the right direction, maybe answer a legitimate request for knowledge from time to time.”

“You would do that, for one of ‘us’?”

“No, not for one of you, for you,” Caw replied. “I hate wasting my time and more importantly our history has more than one example of us trying to help only for it to go horribly wrong. That being said, I think you just might not be a complete waste of my efforts. If you are serious, really serious, about helping your people then yes, I would be willing to advise provided you keep it to yourself!” Caw said firmly. “Word gets out and I get mobbed by assholes. That happens and the deal is off.”

“I… I really appreciate that, Caw.”

“Think nothing of it,” he replied. “I will look into a reading list for you but your first assignment is to take a long hard look at twentieth-century Earth as a cautionary tale. We need to nip that whole ‘by any means necessary’ nonsense in the bud right now. It is impossible to overstate how fucking dangerous that concept is. Before I do anything to help, you will understand that hazard.”

“I’ll start tonight!” she said with real cheer in her voice.

Caw smiled. He probably just signed up for far more effort than this was going to be worth but what the hell.

What’s the worst that could happen?

***

Karashel undulated into her apartment and just slumped, her muscles letting go. What a day! She set her lunchbox, still untouched, on the counter and went out to her balcony to tend to her beloved plants.

As she did she looked out over the city, the shiny spotless, shining capital, the capital that they wanted you to see.

It was breathtaking. Too bad it was a lie, just like the rest of the Federation.

Tear it all down...

She shook her head trying to clear that annoying thought from her mind. It was a silly idea. Caw would yell, or even worse laugh, at her for having it. He was right. It isn’t that simple. There are some very real realities that thwart even the elder races. It required a lot of-

Tear it all down!

She winced. Creators! She was as silly as Caw thought she was. Tear it all down? It was just an offhand comment, an expression of frustration. She didn’t know what a quark was but even she knew that it wasn’t a real suggestion.

Maybe some tea would clear her head. She undulated over to her kitchen and pulled out her trusty tea maker, popped in a pod of grelelle tea, and pressed the touchpad…

And nothing happened.

“No...” she grumbled poking the touchpad again… Still nothing… “You Baleel piece of shit!” she grumbled giving the tea maker a shake. Of all the days for this to happen. She needed that tea!

Wait! The Aat simply boiled those grains to make that tasty beverage! Isn’t that what they used to do before we used tea makers? We just used hot water, right?

She got her smallest pot, filled it with about a tea mug full of water, and with a little effort tore into one of the tea pods, promptly spilling the contents all across her counter. Scooping it up she swept it into the pot and put it on the cooktop.

The water started to steam and quickly came to a boil.

You can tell the cooktop isn’t Baleelan, she smirked to herself.

She looked at the boiling water. It was starting to look like tea! She wasn’t sure how long she should boil it so she let it go for a minute or two and then poured it into her cup.

“See, we aren’t so helpless after all!” she said proudly and took a sip…

Of the foulest most bitter tea she had ever consumed.

“Gah!” she snorted trying to spit out small fragments of tea leaves.

“Great,” she muttered, “We’ve lost the ability to make our signature drink. Lovely...”

Tear it all-

“Oh be quiet,” she grumbled, “I can’t even make tea. I’m not tearing down anything.”

The thought evaporated.

As she was washing out her mouth she looked over at her data terminal.

I bet I can find out how to make tea! she thought, or at least order a new tea maker.

She undulated over to the terminal. As she powered it up she decided that she should ‘do her homework first’.

“Let’s see, twentieth century Sol...” she mused as she started to expertly navigate through the archives.

A lot of the titles were in Terran. She officially could speak it but she wasn’t that great.

Time to cheat!

She reached into her desk drawer, pulled out a small device and connected it to her terminal. It powered up and automatically synced with a neural implant she had connected directly into her sensory structures.

Automatic translation function active… appeared in glowing letters across her vision.

She selected a text that claimed to be an overview of the century and started plugging away. The translator was working perfectly! She activated the glossary function and auxiliary image associators that helpfully started pulling up associated information and additional documents.

Even with all of the technology it was still pretty inaccessible and slow going.

She needed a break.

She smiled. She loved music and what better way to get a feel for a culture than through their music?

This was a great idea!

She started to disconnect the neural interface but stopped. It was already connected and the translation and image associators would come in handy. Besides, the “sound” was way better than her speakers and she could listen as “loud” as she wanted without bothering the neighbors!

She pulled up “Twentieth-Century Music: Sol System: Adapted to Terran”.

A list filled her mind.

One of the titles was “Rage Against the Machine”. She was quite vexed with her tea maker. She wondered if the ancient humans had similar woes.

She selected the folder and clicked play…

Her eyes dilated as the contents queued and started to be delivered... straight down her neural interface and directly into her brain...

***

At lunch the following day Caw saw Karashel at her lunch table and sauntered up.

“Kara!” he called out happily.

Karashel twitched oddly.

“Hey, Caw,” she said looking up and him blearily.

“You ok?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine,” she said in an odd voice. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Oh?” Caw asked “Hitting the books?”

“Yeah, all night,” Karashel said looking at him with just one eye. “Terran history… pretty crazy stuff, right?”

“Yes, quite the ride,” Caw replied, “And the next century is even wilder! Definitely worth a read! So, did your studies start to put things in proper context?”

“Oh yeah...” Karashel replied, “Context… so much fucking context… context...”

“And what do you think about ‘by any means necessary’ now?”

“...dangerous...”

“So, any questions?”

“Maybe later,” Karashel said. “Kinda tired right now.”

“Yeah, you look beat,” Caw replied. “The quest for knowledge is addictive but be sure to at least sleep. A lot of Xx forget that part when they get their first taste. So… did you?” Caw asked excitedly, “Did you get your first taste?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Karashel replied lighting up.

“And how does it feel?”

“I can’t… I don’t know how to say it...”

“Ah, I know exactly what you are feeling,” Caw said happily.

I bet you a trillion credits you don’t...

“I remember the first time I...” Caw started cheerfully sharing the first time something really engaged his mind.

As she listened she looked out over the gardens and at all the fat complacent little councilors, engorged with the life blood of their victims, wallowing about like worms and smiled.

Tear it down… Tear it all down... by any means necessary!