FYS: The Great General
Feb. 22nd, 2015 07:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalDaud walked through the four meter high doors to the Golden Palace, replica to the original down on Lost Earth, nodding to the little fennecmorph dressed in a perfect replica of the old palace servant uniform who waited for him. As he stepped through, the palace guards, two seven foot tall tigermorphs, shut the doors behind him with a flourish.
"Good morning, Abd," he greeted the little morph.
It bowed deeply to him, tail wagging. "Good morning, Master Daud. How are you?"
"I'm well." He sighed, asking the inevitable question. "How is Father?
"The General is in his throne room," Abd told him. Its smiling face turned down. "He has already consumed a kilo of dates, two kilos of chocolate, and a liter and a half of pseudobrandy."
"He's not going to be able to get up off that throne of his if you let him keep eating like that," Daud scolded. "I thought you morphs were supposed to be looking out for us?"
Abd bowed again. "I'm sorry, Master Daud. Consumption of food seems to be his only solace, and it has not yet reached the point of damaging his internal systems. Though if he does continue on his current trends, we will have to strongly consider active measures for his own health and safety."
"Let me know before you do that," Daud said. "I should be with him to keep him calm. Or at least give him someone to yell at besides you."
"Thank you, Master Daud. That would be greatly appreciated. Would you like to see him now?"
"Yes, please."
Abd led him through the entry hall, past the five meter tall golden lion statues, past the empty reflecting pool flanked by tall marble pillars, where supplicants had waited for their chance to see the Great General. In the outer hall was the secretary's desk, now manned by a polite cheetahmorph in a headscarf, waiting to admit visitors who no longer came.
When Daud entered the throne room, he found Father sat slumped on his chair, already asleep even though it wasn't mid-morning yet, his uniform jacket unbuttoned to reveal his beer gut, his boots propped up on.... Oh, no. He was using one of the other fennecmorphs again.
"Up, up, up," Daud chided the poor kneeling morph. "Why do you let him do that to you?"
"He ordered it, Master Daud," it answered, bowing in gratitude. "I didn't mind."
"You never do," Daud sighed. "Go."
The little fennecmorph scurried off. Its presence was replaced by one of the tigermorph guards, who loomed up behind Father as the latter belched and woke up.
"Good morning, Father," Daud greeted wearily.
Father snarled at him, looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Daud, you worthless traitor. Come to laugh some more at the Great General?"
"No one is laughing at you, Father," he replied, with more patience than he felt. “There's no one here but the morphs now.”
“Traitors. Traitors all of them. Abandoning our nation! Abandoning me!”
“We have no more nation, Father. It's back on Lost Earth. The people have decided that they no longer need governance, now that the Groupmind provides all.”
Actually most of “the people” that hadn't been directly employed by one of the ministries, or part of the Army's officer corps, still wanted Father's head on a pike. But the Great General never wanted to hear that, so Daud had given up trying to tell him.
“You're a weak-kneed collaborator, Daud!” Father accused, briefly sitting up at attention. “You should have died with your mother when you were born! At least your brother Aziz went down fighting!”
The truth of the matter was that Aziz, sensing keenly where the wind was blowing when China and the West had fallen, had thrown himself on the mercy of the Groupmind rather than get torn apart by the crowds in the chaos. He and his family were now living on the opposite wide of the Ring from the new Golden Palace, taking up managing a bakery as a new career. The honey and almond bread loaf he'd hyper-mailed Daud last week had been quite good.
“I survived, Father,” Daud answered patiently. “Just as you have survived. I work with the Groupmind now to ease everyone's fears of it. Perhaps if you were willing to listen to it more, you'd find a way to be happier.”
But Father merely muttered, “Traitor,” one more time, settling back on his throne. In less than a moment his eyes had closed and he was snoring. Duad just shook his head and left him, heading back to the palace entrance.
Abd, who had been waiting at the entrance to the throne room, matched pace with him as he walked out. “Are you leaving so soon, Master Daud?” he asked.
“No point in staying, Abd,” he replied, slowing down so the little morph wouldn't have to jog. “Bismillah. I certainly don't know why you bother to stay. Why not come into my household?”
“But I was built to serve the Great General,” Abd replied, looking genuinely confused. “Why would I abandon him?”
Daud paused, leaning over to rub the little servant's ears. Abd smiled back up at him, pleased. “You may be just a machine,” Daud told him, “but you're more than Father deserves.”
“Thank you, sir.” Abd stayed at his side, until Daud reached the helipad. He waved to the little morph as the quadcopter lifted unto the air, giving a fine view of the Golden Palace below. It sat centered in its little circular valley, two kilometers in diameter and half a kilometer deep, the walls steep and unclimbable.
It was the Great General's kingdom, ruled by him absolutely.
And imprisoning him for eternity.
"Good morning, Abd," he greeted the little morph.
It bowed deeply to him, tail wagging. "Good morning, Master Daud. How are you?"
"I'm well." He sighed, asking the inevitable question. "How is Father?
"The General is in his throne room," Abd told him. Its smiling face turned down. "He has already consumed a kilo of dates, two kilos of chocolate, and a liter and a half of pseudobrandy."
"He's not going to be able to get up off that throne of his if you let him keep eating like that," Daud scolded. "I thought you morphs were supposed to be looking out for us?"
Abd bowed again. "I'm sorry, Master Daud. Consumption of food seems to be his only solace, and it has not yet reached the point of damaging his internal systems. Though if he does continue on his current trends, we will have to strongly consider active measures for his own health and safety."
"Let me know before you do that," Daud said. "I should be with him to keep him calm. Or at least give him someone to yell at besides you."
"Thank you, Master Daud. That would be greatly appreciated. Would you like to see him now?"
"Yes, please."
Abd led him through the entry hall, past the five meter tall golden lion statues, past the empty reflecting pool flanked by tall marble pillars, where supplicants had waited for their chance to see the Great General. In the outer hall was the secretary's desk, now manned by a polite cheetahmorph in a headscarf, waiting to admit visitors who no longer came.
When Daud entered the throne room, he found Father sat slumped on his chair, already asleep even though it wasn't mid-morning yet, his uniform jacket unbuttoned to reveal his beer gut, his boots propped up on.... Oh, no. He was using one of the other fennecmorphs again.
"Up, up, up," Daud chided the poor kneeling morph. "Why do you let him do that to you?"
"He ordered it, Master Daud," it answered, bowing in gratitude. "I didn't mind."
"You never do," Daud sighed. "Go."
The little fennecmorph scurried off. Its presence was replaced by one of the tigermorph guards, who loomed up behind Father as the latter belched and woke up.
"Good morning, Father," Daud greeted wearily.
Father snarled at him, looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Daud, you worthless traitor. Come to laugh some more at the Great General?"
"No one is laughing at you, Father," he replied, with more patience than he felt. “There's no one here but the morphs now.”
“Traitors. Traitors all of them. Abandoning our nation! Abandoning me!”
“We have no more nation, Father. It's back on Lost Earth. The people have decided that they no longer need governance, now that the Groupmind provides all.”
Actually most of “the people” that hadn't been directly employed by one of the ministries, or part of the Army's officer corps, still wanted Father's head on a pike. But the Great General never wanted to hear that, so Daud had given up trying to tell him.
“You're a weak-kneed collaborator, Daud!” Father accused, briefly sitting up at attention. “You should have died with your mother when you were born! At least your brother Aziz went down fighting!”
The truth of the matter was that Aziz, sensing keenly where the wind was blowing when China and the West had fallen, had thrown himself on the mercy of the Groupmind rather than get torn apart by the crowds in the chaos. He and his family were now living on the opposite wide of the Ring from the new Golden Palace, taking up managing a bakery as a new career. The honey and almond bread loaf he'd hyper-mailed Daud last week had been quite good.
“I survived, Father,” Daud answered patiently. “Just as you have survived. I work with the Groupmind now to ease everyone's fears of it. Perhaps if you were willing to listen to it more, you'd find a way to be happier.”
But Father merely muttered, “Traitor,” one more time, settling back on his throne. In less than a moment his eyes had closed and he was snoring. Duad just shook his head and left him, heading back to the palace entrance.
Abd, who had been waiting at the entrance to the throne room, matched pace with him as he walked out. “Are you leaving so soon, Master Daud?” he asked.
“No point in staying, Abd,” he replied, slowing down so the little morph wouldn't have to jog. “Bismillah. I certainly don't know why you bother to stay. Why not come into my household?”
“But I was built to serve the Great General,” Abd replied, looking genuinely confused. “Why would I abandon him?”
Daud paused, leaning over to rub the little servant's ears. Abd smiled back up at him, pleased. “You may be just a machine,” Daud told him, “but you're more than Father deserves.”
“Thank you, sir.” Abd stayed at his side, until Daud reached the helipad. He waved to the little morph as the quadcopter lifted unto the air, giving a fine view of the Golden Palace below. It sat centered in its little circular valley, two kilometers in diameter and half a kilometer deep, the walls steep and unclimbable.
It was the Great General's kingdom, ruled by him absolutely.
And imprisoning him for eternity.
