Chapter 597: Stock Car Race (2/2)
Brentili'ik looked at the Director, who's eyes were wide.
”Are you sure?” he asked. ”This isn't some kind of mistake?”
Brentili'ik shook her head. ”No. The numbers match. Take the Sleeping Ones, standard warfare casualties, and until the SUDS system crashed, and I believe the system overloaded before the victims of the Glassing could be processed.”
She pointed at the last datapoint. ”Terran history is extremely garbled, to the point it looks intentional. Their exact population since the founding of the Confederacy has been a closely guarded secret. However, historical data is there if someone knows to look for it.”
The Director shook his head. ”You think that the generation that died after the SUDS was implemented are the ones calling the shots?”
Brentili'ik nodded. ”Have you ever reviewed the logs of what's called ”the Gestalts” since they found us?”
The Director shook his head. ”Not really. We just know that they're the amalgamation and aggregation of our population's opinions and interests.”
”I have. If you look at the one marked ”TerraSol” you'll note that it seems almost schizophrenic at times. It's quick to jump, highly aggressive, but then, it will calm down suddenly, as if it was side-loaded with enough data to change its attitudes and data points,” Brentili'ik said. She saw her Director's surprised face and laughed. ”You were a mechanic before the Terrans came. I was a domestic, and the first thing a domestic learns is how to keep their mouth shut and their ears cocked. I learned a lot then and paid attention to the training offered by the Terran Office of Diplomatic Affairs when I took office.”
The Director nodded. ”My apologies for under-estimating you, Madame Director.”
Brentili'ik waved a hand to brush the apology away. ”No, it's all right. Under-estimation by others is how domestics and laborers survived the purges and attention of the Overseers. It was our only defense.”
The Director nodded, then turned his attention back to the data. ”So, the dead, who were processed into the system, are the ones running the Senate and adjusting the TerraSol Gestalt?”
Brentili'ik nodded. ”Except they're locked out. The TerraSol Gestalt can't communicate due to interference from the Black Bag,” she made a humming noise. ”It's awfully convenient that the Confederate Senate reconvenes right after the TerraSol Gestalt is put out of operation.”
The Director held up his hand, requesting data real quick and looking it over.
”Before the Lanaktallan's 'Kill the Stallion' attack, the Senate passed nothing except the budgets and a few other things. No real policy modifiers. Not since the end of the Mar-gite War,” the Director said. ”Huh, there's something I didn't know.”
Brentili'ik frowned. ”What?”
”The Confederate Senate, after the Mar-gite War, disbanded the Confederate House of Representatives and the Hall of Ministers, leaving only the Senate and the High Court,” the Director said.
Brentili'ik leaned back in her chair and rocked slightly, staring at the data.
”And, since the Senate reconvened, they've been passing bills right and left regarding expansion into the Long Dark, our treatment, our acceptance to the Confederacy, and a lot of other stuff. They're busier now then they've been since the end of the Mar-gite War,” the Director said. He looked at Brentili'ik. ”The status-quo got disturbed and they're reacting.”
”Dead Terrans, dead over eight thousand years, making policy on a world they have no stake in,” Brentili'ik said. She shook her head. ”The question is: what can we do about it and what does it mean?”
The Director shook his head. ”I don't know, Madame Director, but I advise we be very careful from here on out. People have died over data like this, and nobody is beyond something like this's reach.”
Brentili'ik nodded. ”I agree.”
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It was late. She'd eaten a light dinner at the office and then gotten involved in work again until she had looked up and seen how much time had gone by. The ride home seemed to take forever and once the hoverlimo landed, she hurried downstairs to the small living room that saw more use then the rest of the manor combined.
The pillow fort was up, the Tri-Vee was showing the grass growing channel. The podlings were all asleep in the pillow fort by the time Brentili'ik got home, the broodcarriers inside with them, curled up and purring.
”You look tired, beloved,” Vuxten said.
”Stressful day,” Brentili'ik said.
”Sit,” Vuxten said, patting the couch.
With a sigh, Brentili'ik sat down. Vuxten put his arm around her and she leaned against him, cuddling for a long moment and letting the stress drain out of her.
”Got good news,” Vuxten said after a while.
”I could use good news,” Brentili'ik said.
”Mental Health cleared a couple of the Dogboi's to see Lady Keena,” Vuxten said. ”If your office doesn't mind, I'll take them to see her tomorrow after work when I go for more practice.”
”All right,” Brentili'ik said. She waited a moment. ”How is your practice going?”
”Better,” Vuxten said. ”I think it's why I'm sleeping better,” he hugged her tight. ”Well, the practice and you.”
”Sometimes I wish we were just like everyone else,” Brentili'ik said. ”Sometimes I wish I wasn't Madame Director.”
”One of those days?” Vuxten asked.
She nodded. ”Yeah. I can't tell you about it, but, yeah. I wish I could. Don't be upset.”
Vuxten shrugged. ”Some things I can't tell you.”
Brentili'ik gave a quick grin. ”Like what?”
”Like the 2nd Brigade ice cream dispenser is out, or that the speed zone lettering on Canal Street was done backwards, or that for some reason the vending machine at the Delta Company, 3rd Brigade barracks is loaded with Kobold snacks,” Vuxten said. ”Can't tell you any of that.”
Brentili'ik snickered, then laughed. Vuxten joined her.
Synthal'la stuck her head out, blinking sleepily. ”is funny?”
”Just a joke, Synthy,” Vuxten said. He stretched and yawned.
Brentili'ik smiled. She gestured at the cushion fort. ”Shall we squeeze in?”
Vuxten nodded. ”I think so.”
Together, they managed to shift everyone in the fort so they could squeeze in.
In the dark, the little red telltale LED bypassed, a security camera watched the entire thing silently.