Sunflower Haven

It was a beautiful day for an execution. Sidon’s two dwarf sun’s shone overhead while a light breeze made the noose’s on the gallows sway above the heads of the doomed. Four Kings and two Queens sat stiffly on their mounts facing the convicted criminals. Thousands of people encircled the scene; executions always drew a crowd. A group of enslaved Terrans stood closest behind the royals. They wore drab grey tunics belted at the waist and trauma stricken faces. All stared at their feet having no courage to watch, save one teenage girl who stood not like a slave at all, but a General advancing on their enemy. She licked her lips and tasted sweet revenge. Born and raised a slave she had lived a miserable 16 years working tirelessly in the plantation’s rose fields and enduring Sidonian men visiting her in the night. Her owners, His Lordship and Her ladyship, had taught her well what Sidonians were like. She believed her treatment was commonplace; the rule not the exception. Until, one day when a government official stopped by for an impromptu inspection. Rumours of the violence and dehumanizing behaviour on that particular plantation had carried to the Capitol. Fate would have it that on that day she’d been sent for punishment for explaining to her slave handler that the roses in a particular field needed another week before they could be cut and sold. On her way to said punishment she passed the main house and overheard voices from an open window. The Government Official was sternly warning His Lordship that though he had found no evidence the Capitol would be keeping a close eye on him in the future for it would not abide the abuse of children, slave or not. Her mind whirled as she stepped into the dark coffin like box hidden within the slave quarter’s. The box is where you went when the handlers felt particularly wronged. You got locked in. And left there. Some slaves had died in it. Her stomach squirmed as other slaves obediently locked her inside. It was the smell of desperation, of hopelessness, that turned her insides and made her head swim. There were a lot of things she was afraid of, but death was not one of them. She thought of death as a long lost lover she’d find again one day and she had never had anything that made life worth clinging onto. But, thanks to the visiting Official, she did now. They left her in the box for 24 hours before hauling her out, but not for nothing. She used every last moment planning her revenge and set it into action that very night. In between her nightly visitors she pushed a rusty nail through her foot, pretending she’d stepped on it, so the night handler sent her to the medical house. There was only one nurse working night shift, so after getting the wound seen to, she got a tetanus shot. The nurse left the room saying she’d be back in 15 minutes, but to press the call button if she was needed. As soon as the door closed she jumped on the computer. Her only real friend was Jim, an old man and fellow slave, who worked in the plantations IT department. He was the only slave she ever knew who loved their job. He talked about it all the time and she’d soaked up every last word. She was born with hyperthymesia, the ability to remember every moment of her life in perfect clarity, so even though this was the first time she had actually touched a computer she did not have much difficulty. The internal network was already open. She logged in with his Lordships username and password which she’d also learned from Jim who’d seen him type it in once. Finding the ‘settings’ button took longer than clicking the wee button that said ‘Public’. Anyone monitoring the Plantations network could now see, in real time, everything that took place there. One night of no one noticing what she had done was all it took. The next day a legion of soldiers swarmed the place, his Lordship and her Ladyship were arrested. To save themselves they gave up the names of dozens of men who regularly paid them to use their slaves in a multitude of heinous ways. Those men had been apprehended as well. The Royal house, however, refused to give them quarter in spite of their cooperation. Now, she watched, triumphant, heart pounding madly as the noose’s were fitted around the traitors necks. She hadn’t known that child abuse was prosecuted as treason, labeled a traitorous act upon their species, nor that the punishment for such a thing was death. She relished in it now however. One of the Kings was reading out a long list of their crimes as the crowd vibrated with silent excitement. Some of the traitors were standing stock still, proud till the end, while others wept, crying out for pardon, offering empty apologies. At the end of the King’s speech with her Ladyship’s screams for mercy ringing in her ears the girl watched as the King gave a nod. The executioner pulled a lever and all 57 traitors dropped with a unified crack. The crowd cheered with righteous wrath. The girl had never felt so powerful in all her life and she promised herself she would never relinquish any amount of that power ever again. Finally the last swinging traitor was confirmed dead and the group of Royals turned to face the slaves standing in the very front. Each King and Queen rode a huge animal, similar to the Terran lion, and every slave quailed before them except, of course, for the girl. As she was the only one looking at them she was the one they addressed. “People of Terra, what you have endured I will not speak of,” began one of the Queens, “for I have not the stomach for it. I do, however, offer you the crowns utmost apologies. As the crimes of your species preclude you from freedom we give instead, this: transport back to your home planet. Once there you will be resold with the condition that you remain on Terra. Your selling price will be given to you to do with as you please. It is our hope you find a more peaceful existence for the remainder of your lives.” The girl, flabbergasted, gave no sign of emotion, but bowed stiffly to the group of Royals. Within seconds handlers were ushering the small group away and through the crowd. She took one look back and caught the eye of the eldest King. He offered her a regal nod, putting his hand on his chest as he did so. She returned the gesture, turned back around, and failed to notice the shocked expressions on the other Royals faces. She failed to recognize that the gasps and murmurs from the crowd were directed at her and did not see the King’s small smile. What she had just done none but the deeply ignorant or those wreathed in foolishness would do. To touch one’s heart to a King or a Queen was tantamount to declaring yourself an equal. Little did she know how this simple act, done out of ignorance, would one day reach out from the past and heal her. The group walked, in single file, for quite some time before they saw the transport ship looming ahead of them. Basic grey backpacks lay in a heap beside the loading ramp. One of the handlers pointed to it and informed them their personal effects had been gathered and put in the packs. They were to find the one with their name on it before boarding. When her turn came she saw hers must’ve been at the bottom as it looked a bit trampled. “Lily” written in a hurried mess was scrawled on the front. She climbed the ramp and was ushered to the cabin she would share with 9 others for the journey. It was a small room lined with five bunk beds. There was nothing else inside unless you counted the dim light bulb that swung overhead. Climbing onto the top bunk in the corner she couldn’t speak. The others were mumbling to each other, but she didn’t hear. Terra. She was going to Terra. None of them had ever been there. The only thing she really knew about her species’ home planet was how to grow and care for it’s roses, a prized flower throughout the Sidonian Federation. Trembling, she wondered if she was excited or afraid. Excitement was a new emotion to her and she found it hard to discern from fear. As she fell asleep she decided she felt both ways and was content. ***At the Sidonian Palace*** King Nakoma watched the stars appear from the balcony of his apartments. Sighing heavily he was about to turn and head inside when two strong arms wrapped about his waist bringing the comfort he sought. He leaned back into the barrel chest of his husband and sighed again, lighter this time. “How long will it take them to get to Terra do you think?” Nakoma asked. King Hartot kissed his head wishing not for the last time that fate had given them simpler lives. “You and your sisters did the most you could do for them, Nakoma. I know you would have set them free, but there was no escaping their Terran blood,” Hartot replied trying to soothe all the questions his husband would not ask. Nakoma turned in his arms to face him drawing his hands up and down Hartot’s strong arms. “And how long should they be punished for the crimes of their ancestors?” They had been over this so many times. Cupping Nakoma’s face with his hands he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on the top of his nose. “My love. You take on the Universe as though everyone’s problems are solvable. We cannot fix everything.” Nakoma stepped back breaking free from Hartot’s touch and turned back to watch the sky. He could not get the girl’s face from his mind. The Terrans, once they had found how to leave their solar system and began exploring the Universe, had committed unspeakable atrocities. g******e, theft and dark, violent, acts so grotesque they were still remembered, the victims honoured, more than 500 years after the fact. They themselves wrote the peace treaty exchanging 1000 years of slavery for a cease fire - a ceasefire in a war that they began. The Federation had signed immediately, but when they took the Terrans into custody it was discovered that only a million had survived the final assault. This is what made Nakoma’s guts twist into knots. The Terrans had admitted and taken punishment for what they had done to the Federation, but the Federation had never acknowledged what it had done to them. Hartot came to stand beside him watching the stars as well. A few moments passed in comfortable silence. “You are thinking of that girl, aren’t you?” He said. Nakoma nodded and smiled. He took Nakoma’s hand in his. “I don’t think she had any idea how significant it was for you to offer such a gesture. You are a good man.” The smile slipped from his face, “I sent that girl on a long journey to a home she knows nothing about, offered her a gesture of respect she did not understand and topped it off with an uncertain future. That does not sound like the doings of a good man.” Hartot regarded his husband for a moment. He had never had the privilege of being just a man. From birth he was trained to rule, to always do the right thing, to put himself last. He had learned his lessons so well that here he was now taking on the concerns of a lowly Terran slave. To him, Nakoma was the greatest man who ever lived. “I’ve-,” he began, but was interrupted by the sound of the apartment door opening. They turned to look and saw Queen Eban and Queen Krisjan coming towards them. The three were triplets, which, for Sidonians, was quite common. They were a species evolved for survival. Triplets shared more than just a womb and DNA, they shared a soul. When one sibling died the piece of the soul they carried would seek out it’s other pieces and minutes, or sometimes years, later the soul would reunify within the remaining triplets. This had happened to Hartot when his twin brother died at 8 years old. It was a bit of a traumatizing experience for a child to suddenly have an entirely unique individual suddenly inside their body with them, but, over time, he could no longer imagine what it was like to be alone and had no wish to be. The Queens reached them as Eban wiped away a tear that hadn’t yet fallen. Krisjan reached out for her hand as Eban reached for Nakoma’s. “It was a hard day,” she said in her soft whispery voice, “But, hardest for you, I think” She squeezed Nakoma’s hand. He squeezed back and smiled sadly at them. “I know we’ve talked endlessly about the Terrans, but, my dear sisters, that girl today. I nearly unraveled.” He said a little embarrassed at the confession. Krisjan snorted. “Brother, you are not the only one. Half the crowd was wiping away tears as she walked away with her head held so high. If anyone else had done that to you I would surely have been offended, but that girl, no, to be offered the respect of her I think is quite an honour to pin to your coat. Were she not going to Terra I would have her working within the palace in an instant.” Krisjan declared. She had the good fortune of being able to judge a person’s character straight off. Nakoma sighed and tried to rub the exhaustion from his face. “What would happen to the Federation if we just abolished slavery? On moral grounds.” He said. They thought he was joking at first, but the note of an honestly asked question hung in the air. And, Eban, Krisjan and Hartot exchanged glances. He did not fail to see their expressions and, just like that, he was not just Nakoma, but King Nakoma. He stood up straight and tall, so that the thousands of tiny jewels set into his tunic sparkled and danced under the light of Sidon’s three moons. His billowing silk harem style pants flitted in the cool, night air and the scimitar at his waist gleamed. He was the kind of man who would look like a king if he was dressed in rags and covered in mud. “I am aware of what it would cost me. I asked what it would cost the Federation.” He said to a silent, but empathetic audience. Hartot was the first to speak, “If I may interject, I’ve been thinking. Before we take the moral high ground and break a vow made by our forefathers we should seek the feelings of the whole Federation. His Majesty Nakoma could head a diplomatic mission to rekindle relations with our partners in the Federation to subtly discover the feelings of their people. He would visit Terra, of course, would then be able to check in with our group of Terran slaves and whatever becomes of the mission you will at least have some peace of mind that they have found a kinder life.” He shrugged and smiled like a five year old when they know something the grown ups don’t. Eban stared at him for a moment then began tapping her bottom lip as she paced and mumbled. Abruptly she stopped and her face smoothed as she spoke, “It would take a year to plan that sort of venture and 9 to complete. You would not arrive on Terra until year 7.” The three blinked at her before King Nakoma turned to King Hartot and said, “You will accompany me on this journey?” Hartot smiled at him and gave him a feather lite kiss on the mouth. “You couldn’t get rid of me so easily,” he replied as he pulled away.