Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Oh, I see it!” I exclaimed, pointing.
“Yes.” Sir gave me his one-sided smile. “The skies of my home world.”
“So how far does the bubble go?” I asked. “Or maybe I should ask how far the city that is also the palace goes?”
“Oh, it extends around the entire equator of Korrigon Four,” Sir said casually.
“What? It’s that big?” I exclaimed. “But that’s enormous!”
Sir nodded.
“It is indeed. But you must consider, little one, that a vast bureaucracy is needed to run the entire galaxy. Some say that the palace should be moved to one of Korrigon Four’s many moons in order to grow even larger, but the Sovereign dislikes the idea of leaving the planet entirely—even for the sake of more room.”
“Wow, that would be one hell of a big move,” I muttered, looking around. It wasn’t like the vast city we were in was one narrow strip—I literally couldn’t see the end of it in any direction I turned. Though I did see something that made me look twice.
One of the tall buildings we were passing by seemed to be only half finished. It was being worked on by a lot of aliens that didn’t look too different from humans, except they all had bright pink skin and four arms apiece. They were all working steadily and methodically on the building but the way they were working looked odd to me. They all seemed to be doing the exact same thing at the exact same time—it was almost like all of them were puppets and the same puppet-master was pulling all their strings.
“What people are those and why are they acting like that?” I asked Sir, pointing as we passed by.
Sir glanced to where I was pointing and, to my surprise, the golden chariot stopped its forward motion and floated backwards instead. He studied the pink-skinned people through narrowed eyes, watching their perfectly coordinated movements suspiciously.
I was about to ask my questions again when a big Korrigon (well, they were all big, but this one had kind of a pot-belly) slouched around the side of the half-finished building, yawning and scratching his gut.
“You there!” Sir called to him.
“Yeah, what?” the Korrigon responded in Low Korgish, which was the language Sir had told me the Lower Caste of his people used. Then he saw who was talking to him and amended his tone. “I mean, yes, Your Honor?” he asked anxiously, looking up at Sir.
“Who told you it was acceptable to use Mind-Controlled slaves here in the palace?” Sir demanded of him. “You know it is forbidden!”
“Begging your pardon, Your Honor, not no more it ain’t,” the Korrigon foreman said, shaking his head. “By order of His Lordship, Sir Gra’multh, we began importing these Torvians just a few solar werns ago.”
Sir swore under his breath.
“Yes, I can see their mind chip scars are fresh,” he said shortly.
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about until all the Torvian workers turned their heads at the same time. Then I saw a fresh, white scar under each of their left ears—it looked like a little x that showed up quite well on their bright pink skin.
“I’m just doing as I was ordered, Your Honor,” the Korrigon foreman said, lifting his arms in a “what can you do?” gesture.
“Well don’t get too used to it,” Sir growled, scowling at the other male. Then with an angry lurch, the golden chariot drove on, leaving the workmen and the foreman behind.
“What was going on back there?” I asked uncertainly.
“By tradition only free men and women work in the palace.” Sir spoke tersely, looking straight ahead and I could see by the tightness of his jaw how angry he was.
“So…those guys, those Torvians, weren’t free? They all had Mind-Control chips?” I asked.
He nodded—a sharp jerk of his chin.
“This is Gra’multh’s doing—he’s letting the poisonous practice of Mind-Controlled slavery infect the palace.”
“Do you think he’s doing it with the Sovereign’s permission?” I asked.
“I certainly hope not,” Sir growled. “If Splendara the Third and Thirtieth is allowing this practice right under her very nose, I don’t have much hope for her judgment in the matter of your galaxy.”
“Really?” I looked up at him with wide eyes. “So…we’ve lost before you even make your presentation?”
“No, little one.” Sir looked briefly down at me and stroked my hair and shoulders comfortingly. “Don’t think like that—we have more than enough evidence that the people of your galaxy should be left unmolested.”
“Why were the peoples of your galaxy allowed to be subjugated and Mind-Controlled, though?” I asked. “Those Torvians didn’t look that different from humans—well, except for the extra arms and the bright pink skin.”
Sir looked grim.
“Unfortunately, much of the subjugation was done before my lifetime. By the time I grew old enough to inherit my title and position from my father, our whole galaxy was already completely under Korrigon dominion. Though I and my councilors from the Northern Continent have been fighting to set many of the Mind-Controlled free,” he added. “It is an uphill battle—the Sovereign and many of the Nobles who serve her derive much of their wealth from the labor of the Mind-Controlled.”