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A word from the screen caught Apollonia’s ear. She turned, feeling certain she had just heard . . .
“I recognize that,” she said without a thought, staring at the screen.
Jaya looked at her quizzically, before looking up as well.
It was New Vitriol on the screen. The floating head had turned somber.
“The latest terrorist attack in the contested territory of New Vitriol has left three dead and ten injured, as moderate fundamentalist freedom fighters attempt to force out the Sapient Union.”
Another head appeared. “While the Sapient Union has insisted that their presence is solely for humanitarian reasons, with no military force, some are saying that their actions amount to an occupation – a charge the regime vehemently denies.”
Yet a third head appeared, floating near the others. “And since when have we heard that? We debunk their lies all the time. Let’s face it; every time the Sapient Union goes into a place for ‘humanitarian’ reasons, freedoms get trampled and rights get taken away.”
Apollonia waited for some sort of rebuttal, but the last talker seemed to have the final say.
She jerked her gaze back to Jaya.
“Is that true?”
“It is not an occupation, you saw that yourself,” Jaya said.
“I mean the bombing!” Apollonia snapped. “I know it’s not an occupation! And I’ve seen shows like this before – they always called us in New Vitriol ‘crazed cultists’ before we apparently became ‘moderate fundamentalists’.”
That area had been part of the shopping district, an out of the way part near the mining tunnels that had been dug haphazardly into the asteroid. They were half uncharted and probably easy for people to obscure their tracks in.
She’d spent time in that shopping area. It was one of the few areas where she actually mingled with people, ever. And in those images, it had been a smoking mess.
On some level, even though she hated New Vitriol, it bothered her.
“Yes,” Jaya said, answering her question. Her voice was soft, almost gentle. “I’m sorry to say that there has been some trouble on New Vitriol. There is a separatist group staging attacks against locals who are cooperating with our workers. So far they have not attacked anyone from the Sapient Union . . .”
“Does that matter?” Apollonia asked, a flash of anger hissing out with her words. “Are people from New Vitriol worth less than you guys?”
“No,” Jaya said. “But since they are not attacking Sapient Union personnel, it limits our reaction options. We are not there to fight anyone-“
“That’s bullshit,” a gruff man’s voice said.
Apple jumped – the man had spoken just over her shoulder. He was leaned over, his breath reeking of alcohol.
“You sapeholes are the ones behind it,” he sneered. “You do it everywhere – fake attacks, come in in more numbers, and th’ next thing anyone knows, everyone’s fucking assimilated like you shits. All the good people gone or spaced or brainwashed.”
Jaya was glaring at him. “Mind your own business. A bar is for drinking,” she said. “Have a drink, and enjoy the game you were watching.”
The anger in his eyes burned brightly, and Apollonia shifted away from him, wanting to give him a push to get back, but also knowing just how easily he might turn violent.
But the man just hawked and spat – away from them – and did turn away.
Apollonia almost wanted to move, but she had a feeling Jaya would resent even the suggestion. It seemed to have taken all her self-control not to escalate the fight.
Even just moving to the other side of Jaya was not possible, though. Those seats were taken, filled with two old spacers who seemed to simply sit in silence and stare at each other while mulling their drinks.
Jaya’s eyes, lingering on the man, finally came back to her. “The terrorists have little support, thanks to the fact that we are improving conditions, but they’ve set off several bombs.”
“Why, though? I could see for myself it wasn’t an occupation. You were giving out medical care and building infrastructure, not . . . pouring in troops. Even though Nec Tede tried to kill some of your people . . .”
“I do not know,” Jaya said. “But in my opinion? It is not home-grown.”
She heard the man hawk and spit behind her again, and shuffled her stool closer to Jaya.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t even care,” Apollonia said. “That place was hell, and I don’t miss it.”
“Is there really nothing positive you remember about it?” Jaya asked. “No one who was kind?”
“Well . . .” Apollonia replied slowly. “I guess there were a few people. I mean, I lived, right?”
“With how you describe it, it seems that it was often up in the air,” Jaya said.
“I was hungry a lot. I didn’t starve, though. I mean, I guess I did a little? And I was cold a lot, the power generators weren’t rated for a colony our size and the rock drank up the heat like a sponge so . . . Yeah, it got cold. But some folks would help.”
“So there were kind people, after all.”
“I guess,” Apollonia said, feeling a little angry at having to admit it. “They’d just throw some stuff out. Made it look like garbage, but it was really giving it to us – us being me and others who lived on the fringe.”
“Why go through all that trouble?”
“Didn’t want to draw attention. Bottom-rungers like me, we were just considered wasteful mouths, I guess. By the laws of the religion they couldn’t just space us for being useless, and they had to at least pay lip service to that shit most of the time.”
She laughed. “Not that they really believed, ya know? They would usually just pick and choose. But they did harass anyone who tried to feed us on the fringe. If we died of cold or hunger, well that was the will of God, wasn’t it?”
She shook her head, not meeting Jaya’s eyes. Was it out of shame?
Or did she not want the woman to see just how angry she was? So ungodly angry that it felt like she couldn’t even hold it in, that it would be shameful to show.
Other Terrestrial 