The initial shock of the planet nearly consumed me. I was deep within the ocean, blind and desperate, being torn apart by the currents and the terrible pressure of the depths. With only seconds to live, I searched for the nearest eligible vessel.
I ended up joining with a sea creature that humans never discovered. It dwelt on the bottom of the ocean filtering sand and eating microorganisms. This creature became my new home. I do not know how long for because there was no sense of time in the blackness of the ocean floor.
It was eaten by a predator, who then became my new home. After that, it too was eaten by an even larger predator. And then another. It was a cruel cycle that continued for millions of years. This was my introduction to your world.
Shura put Mogg’s people to work right away. Overnight, they transformed from a union of dockworkers who racketeered on the side to a full-blown terror group whose job was to force the remaining hold-outs of Dumas to sell their properties. They intimidated the businesses and harassed shoppers at the storefronts. They loitered on the streets and clogged major intersections, and they did all this with the police looking in the other direction.
Within a few weeks, most of the businesses were forced to close. The residences soon followed. All that remained was one very influential Jain monk. This was the confrontation that concerned Shura the most.
She had visited Indu shortly after she completed their arrangements with Mogg. He had graciously invited her into his temple and offered her tea. His temple was little more than a container ziggurat, with sixteen containers on the ground level, twelve on the second, eight on the third, and so on until his little throne on the sixth floor.
At first, Surrett had tried to buy the man out, offering to relocate him to another part of the slum. When the monk refused, the minister tried to offer to build a real temple for him. When he refused again, Surrett actually offered him a position as head monk of the massive Hutcheesing Temple further north in Ahmedabad, one of the great Jain temples in India. However, the man held his ground, content just to sit in squalor with his herd. Surrett finally dropped all pretenses and tried to flat-out bribe the monk, offering a generous stipend.
Shura was impressed by the man’s faith and steadfastness. “It is too bad we did not recruit him at an early age.”
I disagree. Lack of ambition is a terrible weakness. A vessel who does not strive for standing will never reach their maximum potential.
After that, the Jain monk refused to see them at all the next two times they called. The problem with the man was the Genjix had nothing he wanted. He couldn’t be bribed, he had no need for wealth, and he was perfectly content living this simple life until his last breath.
Unfortunately, his temple was in the heart of Dumas. Construction could not proceed without the monk agreeing to give up or relocate the temple. To make matters worse, Indu’s flock numbered in the thousands. A forced removal would incite massive riots. This gave Shura few alternatives.
Shura sat at the desk in her office and grimaced. Frustrated, she pushed the piles of surveillance photos off to the side. She had spent hours searching for a solution to this problem that wouldn’t cause an avalanche of collateral damage. All indications were pointing toward one solution, and it wasn’t one she relished.
You tried the carrot. The stick will make things worse. That leaves only one other option: the Eternal Sea.
Shura grimaced. She was pretty sure a beating wouldn’t change the man’s mind, and killing clergy was a sordid business, even if it was in the name of her own religion. Their followers tended to react to it poorly and illogically, and it generally caused a much larger mess than the original problem. Still, she had given the man every chance to accept what had to be done. It was up to him to make the right choice.
Make it look like an accident.
“Ugh. That’s even worse.”
Now you are just being lazy.
That was true. Staging an accident was a lot of work. It required a tremendous amount of planning and preparation, there were always so many unknown variables to deal with, and the chances of it all going to shit were pretty high. It was rarely worth the hassle. Shura would almost rather walk up to the monk and put a bullet between his eyes, and then just deal with the fallout. She sighed. Tabs was probably right; this was the best solution.
Shura made the call to Surrett to assign an around-the-clock tail on the monk. She would need to gather as much information as possible on his routine and habits before devising a plan, and her time was far too valuable to waste following the man herself. She didn’t trust the minister’s inexperienced operatives to pull off the assassination and make it appear an accident; she would need to carry that out herself. If word ever leaked that the Genjix had tried to kill a revered Jain monk, the consequences would be severe. It wouldn’t be an overreaction for them to expel all Genjix from the country.
She was relaying final instructions when a light began to blink on her console. She saw the contact number and, at first, chose to ignore it. Let the man wait. Then she realized she was being petulant. In his shoes, she would have done the exact same thing, if not worse.
“Get to work,” she instructed, and then tapped over to the other line. A picture of a good-looking blond with a strikingly square jaw appeared. “Hello Rurik.”
“Shura, I believe you intended to acknowledge me as ‘Father’.”
Now is not the time, Shura. You are not ready to confront him yet.
The two locked eyes for several moments before she finally lowered her gaze. “Father.”
He chuckled. “Shura, always the prideful one. You never did let go of that chip you have on your shoulder. Does the ghost of your father haunt you to this day?”
“All things considered, I do not expect him to haunt any other.”
Rurik smirked. Shura wanted to reach her hand through the screen and sink her claws into his neck. However, she let it go. The memory didn’t hurt, not anymore, but it still left her feeling numb.
“I see that High Father Weston has ordered you to oversee one of my projects.”
“Someone has to,” she said.
“I thank you, daughter. Don’t get too comfortable. I expect you to keep the lights on until someone of proper standing can take the helm.”
He is goading you. Give him nothing.
“I know what he is up to, Tabs.”
“Give me a status report,” Rurik said.
Shura was sure he had thoroughly investigated the situation here in India by way of the minister before contacting her. This was nothing more than a dog-and-pony show to humiliate her and put her in her place. Shura was obligated to report to Rurik how his program was doing. He was of higher standing than she was, at least at this moment.
As a small test to see how much Rurik actually knew about the project, she padded some of the dates. A slight raise of his eyebrow and a momentary hesitation in his movements informed her that he had received contradictory information.
At least now we know who Surrett is latching his wagon to. In truth, considering our two positions, it was probably the wisest path. Nevertheless, it is good to know where the minister stands.
Regardless, they were all here to strive to fulfill the will of the Holy Ones. All the maneuvering between them was just the Genjix way of making sure their vessels were operating at their best. Conflict bred innovation.
“Good, daughter,” Rurik said. “I will finish consolidating my holdings in Russia by the end of the year. After that, I intend to visit and inspect my holdings. I expect the Bio Comm Array to be fully operational and signaling by then. Hold down the fort for me until then.”
Shura stared at the screen long after it went blank. Rurik was five years her junior. He was also a mediocre vessel who only survived the Hatchery because of his family name and the billions that came with it. Fortunately for him, the man knew his limitations and was generous in leveraging the resources he was born with.
Unfortunately for everyone else, he overcompensated for his deficiencies with a vicious streak and a long, vindictive memory. Shura had suffered Rurik’s insecurity and cruelty firsthand at the Hatchery when he had tried to lord his family name and wealth over her. Rurik and his gang had harassed and pushed her around for days upon her return, mocking and physically threatening her, saying children of traitors did not deserve to be at the Hatchery. Shura responded by catching him without his hangers-on and dunking him underwater until he passed out. Their relationship only went downhill from there. Taking the project from under him would be a sweet victory.
If we miss the target, you will make an enemy for life, not that you two were ever going to be friends anyway. It is one thing to earn the animosity of a spoiled child, it is another entirely to earn the wrath of a billionaire in control of one of our most powerful regions.
“Then I better make sure I don’t miss.”
Six months is not a lot of time. We will need to move our timetable up if we intend to take our claim to the Council for ownership of the project.
“There is still a lot to do, and we’ve sunk in more money than I prefer at this stage. The Council will raise an eyebrow when they see the bill.”
That could not be helped. Fortunately, the payments to Faiz and the majority of the landowners have mostly been taken from the government and partially from the Bio Comm Array budget. The payments to Mogg and her hooligans, though, come directly from your requisition.
If we do not bring the array fully online and the project back on schedule before he arrives, you will not be able to make a case to take ownership of the project.
“That means I will have done nothing except help my enemy.” She stood up abruptly and grabbed her coat. “No time to waste then.”
Where are you going?
“I changed my mind. I will personally survey Indu’s movements. It’s time to kill a priest.”