Chapter 1: An Uncertain Beginning
Notes:
Mostly set-up and explanation of Brave New World’s setting for chapter 1. More of the main part of this fic will be in the next chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“‘But I like the inconveniences.’
‘We don't,’ said the Controller. ‘We prefer to do things comfortably.’
‘But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.’
‘In fact,’ said Mustapha Mond, ‘you're claiming the right to be unhappy.’
‘All right then,’ said the Savage defiantly, ‘I'm claiming the right to be unhappy.’
‘Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.’ There was a long silence.
‘I claim them all,’ said the Savage at last.
Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. ‘You're welcome,’ he said.”
-Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
BREAKING: SAVAGE OF SURREY ENDS OWN LIFE AFTER WILD SPONTANEOUS ORGY-PORGY!
Mustapha Mond sighed.
A shame, really. But not an unexpected ending from you, Savage. Sadly for you, none like you are here to mourn your passing. You would have liked that, hmm? But none would in this day and age. Society has moved past the fear of the notion of death, after all. Not the aversion to it, we avoid that for the sake of our pleasures, but we would keep moving forward. The reason? With fear comes instability. And that is the bane of the foundation the world is built on. But, I can’t help but wonder what drove you to suicide, Savage. A civilized person would never think of such a thing, and these cases are considered uncommon, even for savage reservations. Was it his regret, for refusing the gift of society? A realization that he would never find peace against the steady tide of stability? Or perhaps something else? I truly-
His telephone rang. Slowly, he set down the vapid newspaper on his desk, and answered the call.
“Good morning, Controller Mond. I would like to inform you that the exile Helmholtz Watson has settled into the Falkland Islands. He is assimilating well into the community, as expected from your judgment, your fordship.”
“…very well. If that is all you have to say, then I approve.”
He set the phone down, hanging the call up.
Exile…it was either that, or become a World Controller. I do sometimes ponder what would have happened had I not taken my predecessor’s place. I wouldn’t have all these artful books of the banished past. And less stability would be certain. The Hatcheries would be worse off, probably causing disruptions in larger sets of bokanovskification, the lower castes, mainly. Such a process is a miracle, even more so centuries ago. I wonder if I can still recall my early notes on it…yes, yes…
Bokanovsky’s Process
-Isolated egg from adult female is used, put in test tube
-Stalling it at certain points in development causes buds rather than embryo
-Major proponent of social stability: think world motto, “Community, Identity, Stability”
-Podsnap’s process accelerates to 10,000+ twins per year
-Infinite bokanovskification solves all issues; infinite identical Gammas, Deltas, Epsilons, etc. to serve society. “Our Ford’s production principles applied to biology.”
-Alcohol, oxygen restriction applied to Gamma (and latter to Delta and Epsilon) buds, non-fatal, but assist conditioning
-Of women, 25% fertile females (safety buffer), 75% freemartins (infertile, slight differences). Better ratio possible? Study later
Although I did find a better ratio…I did not consider its ease of implementation, nor how to teach it to the various lower castes. Still, though, I am glad that it was not the ratio to see wider use.
Neo-Pavlovian Conditioning
-Punishment to infants against flowers/nature (consumption of transport but not leisure travel) and books (obvious)
-Modern punishment is electric shock panels, earlier iterations use less refined methods
-Aside: Humans were once “viviparous”. Too vulgar to write down all associated words (ex. “family”)
-Hypnopaedia/sleep-teaching: implanting morals into developing children via audio during rest. Logic cannot be implemented; requires reasoning, morals don’t. Greatest moralizing force of all time.
What else…
-Hmm…something something intercourse…
…and that’s the point at which I forget the exact words. Of course, I know the topics well. I wouldn’t have been up for exile if I didn’t. “A Treatise on the Acceleration of Societal Advancements”…that was the last straw, I suppose. “Including not only potential further technological advances and the methods to complete such ideas”, my specialty, of course, but other things as well. The release of the “harmless” forbidden books from before A.F. 150, the opening of the borders of savage reservations, past-times that could require “critical thinking”, like that game the Russians were so good at (at least, before their government’s fall), harsher Soma rations, and more among them. I sometimes wonder if we would be better off without Soma. I rarely take it, on account of the importance of my work. After all, “half a gramme for a half-holiday, a gramme for a week-end, two grammes for a trip to the gorgeous East, three for a dark eternity on the moon.” But that drug does wonders for the, what was the word…common people? Proletariat?
Something like that…oh, here I am, thinking of the restricted works again. The man who invented that “prole” word…Marx, was it? No, he popularized it. Still, he was quite smart, but his ideology is incompatible with our utopia today. No good consumers, much less a single quota for consumption, and even rights without the regard for the ever-present need of Ford’s hierarchies. I doubt the ideology even thrived before the Nine Years’ War, much less past it. Little did, after the anthrax bombs and Economic Collapse.
Now that I think of it, it’s quite odd, no, amusing, that it took an ultimatum, eradication or cooperation, to build our world. At the very least, I am thankful this strife over ideology is finished, even if it was so long ago. It took a bit of testing: massacres, bombs, and poisons, though it was a while before we realized that they had little use. “Never rule with your fists”, after all. Hypnopaedia, conditioning, and the erasure of viviparity proved far slower, but much more stable. Yet, as a…perhaps I’ll use that word again, even if I wouldn’t dare say it to another…as a “prole”, I couldn’t see through it, even with all my intellect. Instead of assisting society, I would have rather uprooted it.
Then again, all minds wise enough come to that point. Either oversee, perhaps even change society in one way or another, or seclude to their own little world. I don’t blame Helmholtz and the Savage for choosing the latter. If I had known the troubles this job would put me through, I might have as well. Managing consumption, although the economy mostly holds itself up given the other works are right, dissenters and curious men, ectogenesis rates and issues at the Hatcheries, plain human error that hasn’t quite yet been erased, etcetera. It may have not sounded like much at first, but when applied to all of western Europe? It adds up very, very quickly…but that begs a question. It’s quite odd that no other calls have come in yet, isn’t it? A slow day, I would guess. Perhaps I should review the banned texts.
Mond sat up, and swiftly closed the curtains about his study. After checking once more with a glance around the room, he walked to the bookshelves lining a wall to his side.. A safe laid in between two of them, embedded in the wall. Entering a code, it was quickly opened for Mond to rummage through the items within.
“The Holy Bible, containing the Old and New Testaments”…I can tell it apart just by its weight. An interesting one…that obsolete subject of religion was always of great interest to me. Worship with a deity, a thing unreal, yet indisputably present…depending on how one views it. But, I’ve recently read it front to back for the seventh time. It would do me no good to learn a caution I have just reviewed.
“The Communist Manifesto”…ah, Marx’s book. Not interested right now, though it would do me some good to revisit. It is a bit heavy-handed on what the fordships of the past were to avoid, but that would be obsolete, now that our world has settled. I search for something…subtler. Though, it is quite a view into what the world had been before Ford.
He felt the coolness of beveled steel on his hand.
Right…I ought to save that for study. I wouldn’t ever imagine I’d actually have to use it.
“The Prince”…another intriguing one. Again, dangerous not just for being incompatible with our government, for man has moved past Machiavelli’s age, but for our society as well. Most of them wouldn’t understand it. But a select few Alphas might…they are the most difficult to placate, after all. So for them to understand the flow of power, especially in the brutal and archaic method it was once managed, is far too dangerous, even if it is of a lesser degree than the impossibility of blatant revolt.
“Hamlet”…I haven’t read this one in a while. An interesting work…though it could never happen today. But then again, like that Savage…
He recalled an excerpt from Hamlet’s first soliloquy.
“O, that this too too solid flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!”
It only reminded the World Controller of a sentiment the Indian had held.
“You got rid of them. Yes, that's just like you. Getting rid of everything unpleasant instead of learning to put up with it. Whether 'tis better in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them … But you don't do either. Neither suffer nor oppose. You just abolish the slings and arrows. It's too easy.”
Ah…easy? For the man, it is. For the ruler? That is another question entirely. But that is what mankind has always been doing, isn’t it? Making life easier. More convenient. Like many things, there is no end to it. But, unlike many things, it is not something we prune. Population? Pruned via ectogenesis. Conflict? Pruned via control. And thought? Pruned by pleasure. Perhaps religion is a part of that thought: a thing pruned by a planned obsolescence.
To that point, there is the mention of “God” once more, from Hamlet. Like our Ford, but a concept rather than someone once tangible. A result of vain imaginings, which only grow stronger with the experience that comes from age. Nowadays, we don’t quite “age” like we used to, thanks to our medical technology. At thirty, forty, sixty-five, we’re of the same strength and mind as we’ve been since seventeen. Even then, some of our minds still hunger: the Savage, Helmholtz, and my past self being examples. Still, hunger, past a certain limit, is simply the desire for growth. Hunger for food, in ancient times, but even now, for meaning, for…contrast.
His internal remarks led him to ponder the boy’s words once more.
“Exposing what is mortal and unsure to all that fortune, death and danger dare, even for an eggshell. Isn't there something in that? Quite apart from God–though of course God would be a reason for it. Isn't there something in living dangerously?”
What an interesting man, even though a savage…he saw the need for danger and discontent, even if it would lead to instability. Thankfully, we have Violent Passion Surrogate; simply flush the adrenals and be done with it. Perhaps I should have sent him with Helmholtz, for further study. A shame that mentality led to the boy’s demise…in my youth, I would have-
The door to his study slammed open.
“Controller Mond, your Fordship!”
He broke from his thoughts, and turned his head. A short, rather ugly man in a suit was addressing him. Oddly enough, he wasn’t all too familiar to him, despite the prevalence of Gamma butlers in his complex. Although, he could have sworn he had seen the Gamma once or twice.
“By Ford, what is it?”
“It’s urgent, your fordship. We have received a call stating that the other World Controllers are meeting right now.”
“What could be so important that-”
“Your fordship, it is classified to speak of here, they said. But it is…urgent. The conference is located in Paris.”
Mond sighed, and slowly shut his safe.
“Ready the rocket-plane.”
I see what that Gamma meant by urgent.
As he glanced across the streets of Paris (a silly naming convention the world has, he thought, seeing as “Paris” of the French Republic is long gone), he noticed something rather odd. At noon, most of the streets would be comfortably filled. People working their jobs, whether Alpha, Beta, or even Delta, perhaps a few filled restaurants for the lunch rush. It would certainly be noisy, albeit in a pleasing fashion.
Yet, the streets were empty. And to that, only the quiet hum of anti-protest lullabies could be heard.
Maximum strength rhetoric…what could have happened here?
“If you agree, your fordship, perhaps we should make haste.”
“We shall.”
As they moved through the streets, approaching the impromptu meeting space, located at the Palais Bourbon across the river Seine, Mond couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He pondered the possibilities that could have caused such a scenario to occur.
Disease is unlikely, as is some sort of sudden death among us. The other nine were in good health, as far as I can remember. Then some sort of uprising? Or a massive riot? No, no, the policemen would have been far slower to stop it if such a thing were to require all ten of us to gather. That leaves me with…oh. By Ford…
As the tenth World Controller turned the corner to face the Palais Bourbon, he was awestruck.
The nine other World Controllers were sat in a semicircle of portable seats, placed in front of the building’s entrance.
Ah…my colleagues. They are…
No, no, that would be impolite. I’ve been in each of their companies individually, and it isn’t true for all nine of them. But for the most part…they are “blind”.
Four of us, North America, South America, Eastern Europe, and North Asia, are not fit for ruling, by the expectations of most great men. For the most part, the systems in place within their territories allowed the people to be governed with minimal input. Far looser Soma rations, longer hours at work, and a different way of thought for each of them, all combined to create the breeding ground for incompetents. I would guess half of them are on Soma right now. Still, if they are still among the most thriving regions of Earth, then…perhaps they have a sort of “intellect” I cannot yet grasp. But, as it stand from my point of view, it is “the blind leading the blind”. Although, the latter three of them do seem somewhat queasy…
Three more are still developing. The Arctic Territories, South Asia, and Africa’s Controllers were relatively new; only four to seven years of experience for each of them. They are rather smart for being so fresh, however. The Arctic Territories’ Controller Jakobs, for instance, is a rather efficient man. He is tact (although some would consider him to be on the brink of being uncivilized, mainly in his way of speech), and seems to be the only one out of the three not somewhat unsettled. He knows well that the most undesirable members of society are sent to his territories. Thus, he adjusted the law to placate them. In fact, because of his blunt (albeit fluid) speech, he had recently managed to secure funding from the most cunning of them all, that being Oceania’s Controller.
Sonia Kissinger was a rather unremarkable name for a freemartin, Mond had first thought. He had initially pegged her as another one of the easily swayed fools brought to their position by either societal necessity or luck. And she did act as one of them, for a decent while. That was, until he reviewed each Controller’s policies.
At first, it was just basic things I thought simple. Managing the economy justly and sorting around future jobs and conditioning to fit with predicted estimates. Any decent Controller could do that, with all but two of my colleagues in that category . But as I looked closer, I noticed a few tweaks. An almost random allocation here or there to certain positions that seemed as if they were fine. I tossed it aside, considering them as random guesses. However, as a month passed, Oceania only seemed to thrive, compared to the other territories. Lower exile rates (albeit more dispatches of the anti-riot police) more economic growth, and surveys showed greater satisfaction, even among the Alphas. It was an anomaly, I had first thought. Then March passed, and Oceania grew while the other competent Controllers fell far back. Then April, and more of the same, mostly, all the while implementing ideas I had barely dreamed of. Everything against what the world has taught us, but still genius nonetheless. I knew then that she was playing a part; almost like the actors of the Feelies, but done with degrees of another kind of intelligence beyond my own. Inevitably, she would be a problem I would have to address. But now, she acts authentically…why would she break that facade?
Despite all of them having gathered for this urgent circumstance, in this state of emergency, no policemen were present. This would have confused Mond, which was both explained and not assisted by the figurative elephant in the room.
…a large plant, no, some sort of nine-foot tall woman, covered in plants. Wait, that doesn’t quite make sense. That would mean that they would be encased in that wood beneath those stems and flowers and…moving vines. Like the arms of a human, or the tail of a monkey? Odd, odd. If I were in a less grave position, then I would consider her quite beautiful. But this…is beyond reason…
Nevertheless, Mond straightened his suit, and approached the anomaly. He began to hear the voice of the plant (or something else entirely?, he thought).
“…I’m sorry, little ones…but this system of yours…it’s quite poor, isn’t it? Like the Terrans, you’re ‘capitalists’, right?”
“Quite right!” The North American Controller chimed in. “Ford’s done it since he opened the Ford Motor Company! ‘The money’ll sway for what Ford made!’. Right, Kissinger…?”
Even from that distance, he could see that exasperation he rarely noticed on her face.
“What my colleague here meant to say was that yes, we have this system. Still, it is not ‘poor’, and I am sure you will see this with a single view at our society at large. We are not simply a utopia, but the culmination of a dream, one that our kind has sought for many eons. And we would quite prefer if these systems would…ah, Controller Mond has arrived. Perhaps we can fill him in, and begin with our negotiations.”
That soliloquizing…I would do it if I believed this discussion was going nowhere, if I needed to stall. Is this plant-woman even of right mind? If she has a pattern of thought unlike ours, this could pose quite an issue…but she still is trying to negotiate for peace. A human element? Or do they fear conflict with us?
He nodded. “Very well. Perhaps I could approach this scene from my colleagues’ perspective first?”
“Sure! Just so you know, my name is Prifolia, first bloom, they/them pronouns, and I’m an Affini. ‘Aliens’, your people would call us! Talk amongst yourselves, and then we’ll really start the meeting.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prifolia. I am Mustapha Mond, my pronouns are…he and him, and, as you may have guessed, I am a member of humanity.”
The North American Controller opened his mouth, but failed to think of a starting point to his brief. Upon noticing the man opening his mouth, the Arctic Territories’ Controller stepped in.
“Mond…nice to see you again. I think I’ll start with briefing you. Or, maybe…Kissinger, should you do it?”
She nodded. “You may proceed, Controller Jakobs.”
“Well, let’s start with how it all started, yeah?”
Mond nodded. At least he values brevity.
“Alright. Earlier today, ‘round 0430 in this timezone, a sort of flying machine, 1, maybe 1.5 miles in length, appeared above the Northern Greenland Base. Was there, of course. Prifolia here had me call the rest of us to Paris for an emergency meeting.”
You control the most secured location in the World State. Why would you-
“Not much of a choice, ‘cause if I denied, the rest of the fleet would descend on us. Enough to crowd the sky everywhere, I’m told. But anyways, we moved the police in, shut the city down for a little, had to mute the media quite a bit, but we all still arrived. Anyways, we started to talk.”
Mond hummed. “…interesting. So in terms of…”
He picked up on it immediately. “No. Also, they probably know what you mean. Pretty damn smart, like you. Oh, by the way, I’d normally drill it into you not to let your guard down, but I’m sure that would be pretty damn rude to do in front of our guest.” He turned to the plant-alien. “Sorry, by the way.” They merely nodded with a benign smile.
I see. Hopefully, you’re telling me that they can be placated.
“So, we got to discussing. Their species is called the ‘Affini’, plant people, kind of. They go through space, and find other species to save. Recently, they found some other human-ish aliens, a long, long ways away. ‘Terrans’, they’re called. ‘bout the same biology as us (a bit weird how alike we are, really), but with a pretty unstable government, even though they had some damn advanced warring technology. Like anthrax bombs, but ten times worse. Spaceships, too. They got blown out by the Affini in, what, three years in our time? With marginal casualties on either side, compared to even the past’s minor wars.” He turned to Prifolia for approval, and they chimed in.
“Not ‘blown out’, petal. Just rescued! You also need to explain what that ‘anthrax’ is, later!”
So there is no chance to drive them away by force. Not what our civilization was designed to do, anyways.
Controller Jakobs nodded. “Yeah, that checks out. Couple of things before we got to the meat, though, Mond: first is that their species is pretty…well, not viviparous, they’re not, but…y’know…they act like we’re all in a fa…”
The man glanced at the other Controllers.
“…the f-word.”
The South American Controller gagged.
So that’s why most of us are disgusted. “I understand, there is no need to elaborate. Continue.”
“Second is that our systems are a bit at odds. You know Ford’s methods, right?” Mond nodded. “They’re not exactly for that sort of thing. Against it, to put it lightly. Might want to ask them about that after all this briefing.”
“Noted.”
“Third is they’re admirably persistent. Not much most Controllers could do to give them a good talk. I’m hoping that’s what you can do after this meeting.”
Prifolia didn’t react, but Mond understood that he, Controller Jakobs, Controller Kissinger, and the alien were the only ones to understand the weight of this declaration.
“Alright, back to the end of the timeline. So, after we told Prifolia here that we didn’t know anything about Terrans (‘pparently, that’s some sort of one in a bazillion odds, since we’re on the other side of this galaxy,), we got to discussion about terms. Kind of dead to rights, after all. And, about their goal here, ‘s a bit odd, but it’s the…’domestication’ of the human race.”
Mond nearly dropped his jaw, but his trained composure allowed him to remain still. “Please clarify that, Controller. I’m not sure if I heard that-”
Prifolia’s eyes shifted to a bluer hue, trying to stare directly into Mond’s eyes. He avoided them. “Ah…! That’s where I step in! Little one, by domestication, we mean that our goal is to ensure that all you sophonts receive happiness and suffer no more.”
He exhaled. “I am certain you do. However, I do not understand why you would call this concept ‘domestication’.”
Their vines swayed calmly. “That’s a valid question! What I just described is the societal use of the word. But, for an individual Affini, it means…making sure each of you sophonts get the care you need! We’ll feed you, play with you, keep you happy, and-”
Mond relaxed his stance, and he tried his best to contain his displeasure. “I understand, yes.” He turned to the rest of his colleagues. “Is that all?”
Controller Kissinger nodded, as did Jakobs and the somewhat recovered South Asian Controller. The first of them spoke after noticing their agreement.
“I believe it is wise for you, Mond, to begin negotiations with this Prifolia on your own.”
He baited for an explanation meant for Prifolia. “And why myself?”
She sighed. “We have unanimously decided that you are the most representative of our cause. Of our people, as a whole, in fact.” The most palatable for this alien, I suppose. “The…din of our voices will drown out the essence of our kind.” Quite astute, assuming you aren’t attempting to depose me. You are too inhibited, Jakobs is too practical, and the rest are not prepared. “We have already arranged a customized rocket-plane for you. Rest assured, we will be in close contact. And, to quell your worries, Prifolia, we will not attempt an offensive. You already understand that we are far outclassed. Correct?”
Prifolia paused, then nodded slowly. “Those terms are…acceptable! You should remember, however, that any act of aggression will signify to us that it’s best for you to be domesticated. Understand?”
A bead of sweat made itself present on Kissinger’s forehead. She inhaled, and exhaled deeply.
“The terms are acceptable."
Notes:
I think the next chapter will be out later, hopefully once I finish the third. Anyways, up next for the Controller and the Affini ambassador is a book on flattery, treachery, control, power, and ruling in general. You can probably guess what it is, based on Mond’s safe…
Chapter 2: Machiavelli
Notes:
Time for the main contents: starting with a "thesis" (this chapter) and "response" (the next). Warning: this is going to get a lot more philosophical than my usual fics. And, once again, this is a novice's interpretation and work (not that my opinion reflects Mond's or Prifolia's). Also, no familiarity with The Prince is needed. Without further ado, I will begin:
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Apologies these doorways were rather tight, Prifolia.”
Mond watched from his chair as the foliage around the Affini shifted into an almost octopus-like form, carrying a smaller main body through his study’s doors using arms of vines and stems. Swiftly, they were through the door, now reforming into a more compact version of their taller self.
“It’s no problem at all, little one!”
“Very well. Would you like any refreshments or sustenance before we begin?”
They shook their head. “I’m already hydrated. Let’s get to talking!”
Eager, they are. “Then I shall begin. My colleague mentioned that these…‘Terrans’, they were all quite similar to us, yes? What was their society like?”
“Hmm…that’s a hard question. Not because I don’t know, petal, but because there are a lot of places to start…”
“What about their government, then? Such is something I would want to know, after all.”
They shrugged. “Sure! You want to know if they’re like your own, right?”
He chuckled. “No use in denying it. You’re really quite intelligent after all.”
“Ah, it’s nothing to us Affini. We see biorhythms, petal.” His confused look prompted them to clarify. “To explain, it’s…the little things you do as an organism! Breathing, stance, shifts in those, things like that. We’re able to see them, but on a related note…your ‘colleagues’…they feel off. Like their bodies were repeating the same thing over and over again, almost. You’re less like them, though. Do you understand what I mean, little one?”
A people pleaser? With all that power, one would think…no, they are quite “human” then, aren’t they? “I understand. But would you please continue with the Terrans? They seem rather intriguing, for a species so supposedly similar to our own.”
They hesitantly sighed. “Well, even though I’d be lying if I said you didn’t seem like you were get an upper hand, little one, but I’ll entertain it. The Terrans were ruled by an oligarchy of corporations in a fascist, capitalist government. Inequality was rampant, most were suffering in poverty while the top percent of society thrived, and hundreds of millions were enslaved and killed, both xeno and Terran. Everything was made to build profits for the rich by using the labor of the poor!”
Mond frowned, albeit reflexively. “Quite terrible, then, even for their advanced sciences? I imagine those at the ‘bottom’, so to speak, were not happy in their position.”
They scoffed. “To put it lightly, little one. But I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
His frown was quickly replaced with a smile. “Well then, I am going to make a bold claim. You may not believe at first. Yet, it is true; on this planet, Earth, our government…has all but eliminated the suffering of our people.”
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“…what are you obscuring, petal?”
Sighing again, he resigned himself to a less bold position. “Well, I suppose I did not tell you because it is the ‘oppressor’s tool’, after all. We are built on the doctrine of Henry Ford, I’m afraid.”
Their expression darkened. “…fascism? Or…”
Mond chucked once more. “No, no, we are capitalist. That former barbarity was deemed nonviable long ago.” The dismissive wording of his sentence caused no change to the Affini, aside from a slight cloudiness in their eyes.
I want to see how they respond.
Prifolia kept their biorhythm in check as best they could.
They know what they’re doing…but the Bureau told me to be prepared for this. For cultures that didn’t do right by their people…so why does it make me so frustrated…no, so sad to see the Controller of these people do this to them!? I…I need to stop him. But I’m not going to cause a war, I’d never. Not one death is worth it. I’ll just show them their wrongs. Should I use my own biorhythm? No, if he snaps out of it, he could…I shouldn’t be an aggressor anyways, not here. I need to take the long way around.
“Your society, petal…why do you think its acceptable, the way your systems are? Your people must be suffering!”
I see what they’re getting at.
“Well, perhaps…we should start from this: what determines if a man, or woman, or whomever, is ‘suffering’? Don’t worry, I won’t lead you astray with semantics this whole time.”
Prifolia didn’t waste a moment to answer. “Well, it’s obvious, little one, isn’t it? You know what suffering feels like. It’s when someone has those bad feelings, which can be many things. Not being content, or pain of any kind, or even the emptiness of hopelessness.”
“So, capitalism caused this suffering due to…what was it? If you are so inclined, do list more of these causes. I remember slavery, death, inequality, and poverty.”
“That’s most of it, petal! I would mention one more, though: inadequacy.”
Interesting. “Inadequacy, hmm? As in the state of being so, or feeling-?”
“Both, petal. Do you understand what it means?”
“I do. ‘We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist.’” Another one of our Ford’s quotes, he thought, though it isn’t quite our Ford. But if the people already consider Freud to be our Ford as well, then it doesn’t quite matter, does it?
“Is that from a book…?”
…that is a perfect segue. “Indeed it is. My safe over here,” Mond said, gesturing towards the space between the room’s bookshelves, “has a book that would very well give background to this topic in relation to our kind. Would you like to read it?”
“…books are great, petal! I’d love to learn more about this planet!”
“Good, good.” I see why my colleagues picked me. They wouldn’t stand this…viviparous? Condescending? No, no…maybe, motherly attitude. “May I unlock it? With your permission, of course.”
Prifolia nodded vigorously. “Sure, petal! I think we’ll be able to clear things up with this!”
Slowly, Mond rose from his seat. As he shuffled towards his safe, he continued his questioning.
“Perhaps, before we begin, you could tell me about how your society functions.”
As he put the safe’s code in, Prifolia disregarded any sense of plausible deniability. “Well, our people are guided by the Affini Compact. We’re very peaceful, not a violent root in our bodies! We redistribute wealth to those who need it most, and everyone gets what they need. Taking care of other species, dismantling the systems harming them, and taking them in as sophonts of the Compact are what our people are focused on!”
Mond nodded, retreating from the safe with a book in hand. “I see…would you describe yourselves as communist, then?”
The Affini saw no tenseness nor malice in Mond’s biorhythm towards the mention of communism. They nodded, composing themselves again.
“Yes, petal. That’s another Terran word…they demonized it quite a bit. But you’re familiar with it?”
Mond nodded. “Yes, I think there’s another book that would add quite a bit to this, then. But, first…”
Now back at his seat, he set the rare paperback on the table. “Be careful. It’s quite rare, you know.”
Prifolia’s head tilted at the questionable title. The Prince, by Niccolò Machiavelli, they silently read.
“The Prince? Are your offices hereditary, little one?”
Mond, quietly chuckling, shook his head. “No, no. This book was written…about, say, a millennium ago? It isn’t accurate to the world as of today, but that’s not quite the point.”
Prifolia moved a vine to their chin. “So what is it?”
“Ah, I’ll explain as you read. Are you able to do so quickly?”
Prifolia grinned. “Of course! I didn’t spend most of this bloom in the bureaucracy for nothing!”
“Alright, then. I’d recommend you start at the first chapter. So, a millennium ago, that’s about B.F. 400 or so, there was a handful of empires. Many outside of Europe, such as,” (and as he said the following, he almost whisked the air with his hands) “the Ottomans, Great Ming, the Mughals…”
“All states, all powers, that have held and hold rule over men have been and are either republics or principalities…”
“They aren’t quite relevant, here. But, they operated under many of the same principles…”
“…for men change their rulers willingly, hoping to better themselves, and this hope induces them to take up arms against him who rules: wherein they are deceived, because they afterwards find by experience they have gone from bad to worse…”
“…Machiavelli, of course, was not completely accurate. He was just one man, after all. However, he was, of course, a student of history, as was he a witness to the fall of the Medici in Florence, leading him to a position of power until their restoration.”
“The wish to acquire is in truth very natural and common, and men always do so when they can, and for this they will be praised not blamed; but when they cannot do so, yet wish to do so by any means, then there is folly and blame.”
“This restoration was led by the Holy Roman Empire, and their emperor, Charles V.” He whisked his hand again. “I will explain the Church later. But, back to the past, for many, the many deaths here, more brutality there, and, of course, exile from their office might have swayed them to resentment, or perhaps sycophancy, in some vain hope that they would be restored to their position of power over others. Yet, Machiavelli simply portrayed the world by the results produced by its people. Quite practical, rather than an idealist…”
“…France, because one can easily enter there by gaining over some baron of the kingdom…but if you wish to hold it afterwards, you meet with infinite difficulties, both from those who have assisted you and from those you have crushed. Nor is it enough for you to have exterminated the family of the prince, because the lords that remain make themselves the heads of fresh movements against you, and as you are unable either to satisfy or exterminate them, that state is lost whenever time brings the opportunity.”
Prifolia cringed.
“…which is a sentiment you may not resonate with, I’m sure. But this guide was, of course, not meant to continue the then endless struggle of warfare and conquering. For what reason would Machiavelli, in his old age, seek to lengthen the turmoil already present in the world? No, he sought stability, albeit through the flawed men at the time.”
“Whenever those states which have been acquired as stated have been accustomed to live under their own laws and in freedom, there are three courses for those who wish to hold them: the first is to ruin them, the next is to reside there in person, the third is to permit them to live under their own laws, drawing a tribute, and establishing within it an oligarchy which will keep it friendly to you.”
“I think he would agree with me that by nature, we are a violent people. I do not believe, however, that this guide is one that is meant to guide all men considered vile towards power…”
“And because he knew that the past severity had caused some hatred against himself, so, to clear himself in the minds of the people, and gain them entirely to himself, he desired to show that, if any cruelty had been practised, it had not originated with him, but in the natural sternness of the minister. Under this pretence he took Ramiro, and one morning caused him to be executed and left on the piazza at Cesena with the block and a bloody knife at his side. The barbarity of this spectacle caused the people to be at once satisfied and dismayed…”
By the Everbloom…
“He who believes that new benefits will cause great personages to forget old injuries is deceived.”
“…but to instead ward societies, ones which would have done well to follow his principles, might I add, from their inevitable ruin. And I suppose that would be something that would resonate with your Compact, as it does with us…”
“Some may wonder how it can happen that Agathocles, and his like, after infinite treacheries and cruelties, should live for long secure in his country, and defend himself from external enemies, and never be conspired against by his own citizens; seeing that many others, by means of cruelty, have never been able even in peaceful times to hold the state, still less in the doubtful times of war. I believe that this follows from severities being badly or properly used.”
Their eyes shifted to a more crimson hue.
“…of course, his time’s societies were unequal. But it was painful because the people hated this, which I would guess you agree with. However, this isn’t to, say, compare your species and ours to bring them down to what was once our depths. I am just illustrating the nature of humanity and his turmoil since his birth…”
“A prince ought to have no other aim or thought, nor select anything else for his study than war and its rules and discipline for this is the sole art that belongs to him who rules, and it is of such force that it not only upholds those who are born princes, but it often enables men to rise from a private station to that rank. And, on the contrary, it is seen that when princes have thought more of ease than of arms they have lost their states…He ought never, therefore, to have out of his thoughts this subject of war, and in peace he should addict himself more to its exercise than in war; this he can do in two ways, the one by action, the other by study.”
“…of course, I am sure your system is without inner conflict. Unless…”
Prifolia didn’t raise their head. “No. We don’t have internal conflict, petal.”
Mond hummed. “How?”
“…for many have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have never been known or seen, because how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to live, that he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation; for a man who wishes to act entirely up to his professions of virtue soon meets with what destroys him among so much that is evil.”
“Our bureaucracy prevents it. We have systems in place.”
Odd. I suppose they’ve become so advanced that the exponential issues that arise with complex systems have been all but forgotten.
“And again, he need not make himself uneasy at incurring a reproach for those vices without which the state can only be saved with difficulty, for if everything is considered carefully, it will be found that something which looks like virtue, if followed, would be his ruin; whilst something else, which looks like vice, yet followed brings him security and prosperity.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Prifolia. However, I do have another question. Do your…the people of your Compact’s territories, do they love you? As in your people’s Compact.”
They nodded. “Of course they do, petal!”
“Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with. Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowards, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life, and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you…and men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails.”
So this is what this species has done to itself…
“So they must believe in your cause. Do you?”
“Nevertheless our experience has been that those princes who have done great things have held good faith of little account, and have known how to circumvent the intellect of men by craft, and in the end have overcome those who have relied on their word. You must know there are two ways of contesting, the one by the law, the other by force; the first method is proper to men, the second to beasts; but because the first is frequently not sufficient, it is necessary to have recourse to the second. Therefore it is necessary for a prince to understand how to avail himself of the beast and the man…A prince, therefore, being compelled knowingly to adopt the beast, ought to choose the fox and the lion; because the lion cannot defend himself against snares and the fox cannot defend himself against wolves. Therefore, it is necessary to be a fox to discover the snares and a lion to terrify the wolves.”
“The feralist sophonts don’t.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, I’ll explain it later. Of course we believe in it, petal.”
“Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite.”
“And to be clear, you would never consider your…sophonts…to be slaves. At least, not in the sense of forced labor and such, yes?”
“For that reason, let a prince have the credit of conquering and holding his state, the means will always be considered honest, and he will be praised by everybody; because the vulgar are always taken by what a thing seems to be and by what comes of it; and in the world there are only the vulgar, for the few find a place there only when the many have no ground to rest on.”
“Yes, little one, we do not. But I feel the need to ask…why are you asking all these obvious questions?”
Mond smiled. “To establish something to construct the idea of this world on. If you make a mistaken answer, feel free to retract it at any time. Now, for a follow-up: if you believe this to be the case, then why?”
“It makes him hated above all things, as I have said, to be rapacious, and to be a violator of the property and women of his subjects, from both of which he must abstain. And when neither their property nor honour is touched, the majority of men live content, and he has only to contend with the ambition of a few, whom he can curb with ease in many ways.”
“…because they’re happy, petal. There’s no cruelty in that! They’re always glad when they’re our pets. And even then, not all of them are pets! As long as they stay within the law…”
“And one of the most efficacious remedies that a prince can have against conspiracies is not to be hated and despised by the people, for he who conspires against a prince always expects to please them by his removal; but when the conspirator can only look forward to offending them, he will not have the courage to take such a course, for the difficulties that confront a conspirator are infinite…And, to reduce the matter into a small compass, I say that, on the side of the conspirator, there is nothing but fear, jealousy, prospect of punishment to terrify him; but on the side of the prince there is the majesty of the principality, the laws, the protection of friends and the state to defend him; so that, adding to all these things the popular goodwill, it is impossible that any one should be so rash as to conspire.”
“…and they’re not a danger to anybody, they can be individuals. In fact, the reason we are meeting, petal, is to discuss whether you choose to join us or refuse us. And if you do join us, most of your people will stay individuals…see, here, it says ‘But when a prince declares himself gallantly in favour of one side, if the party with whom he allies himself conquers, although the victor may be powerful and may have him at his mercy, yet he is indebted to him, and there is established a bond of amity; and men are never so shameless as to become a monument of ingratitude by oppressing you.’”
“Keep reading, Prifolia. No, perhaps I should quote it…yes. Something along the lines of…‘Never let any Government imagine that it can choose perfectly safe courses; rather let it expect to have to take very doubtful ones, because it is found in ordinary affairs that one never seeks to avoid one trouble without running into another; but prudence consists in knowing how to distinguish the character of troubles, and for choice to take the lesser evil.’…or, in simpler terms, ‘it is too good to be true’. Another outdated saying for our society, but I suppose it applies here.”
They sighed. “…I’m not sure how I can tell you this, then…”
“Further, he ought to entertain the people with festivals and spectacles at convenient seasons of the year; and as every city is divided into guilds or into societies, he ought to hold such bodies in esteem, and associate with them sometimes, and show himself an example of courtesy and liberality; nevertheless, always maintaining the majesty of his rank, for this he must never consent to abate in anything.”
“…but the Compact is absolutely a ‘lesser evil’, petal. Not even an ‘evil’, at all.”
“The choice of servants is of no little importance to a prince, and they are good or not according to the discrimination of the prince.”
Mond smiled. “Almost done with the book? Ah, then I should ask you: why do you believe that?”
“Because…it’s obvious, isn’t it, petal? Our people all…”
“Because there are three classes of intellects: one which comprehends by itself; another which appreciates what others comprehend; and a third which neither comprehends by itself nor by the showing of others; the first is the most excellent, the second is good, the third is useless.”
“Are all of the same mind on this, yes? Do you comprehend why you conquer? If there were another empire, even better off than yours, then what would you do?”
We would still…no, he’s trying to fool me. I won’t give him that.
Nevertheless, their eyes shifted to a light rose, continuing towards a stronger color.
“But to enable a prince to form an opinion of his servant there is one test which never fails; when you see the servant thinking more of his own interests than of yours, and seeking inwardly his own profit in everything, such a man will never make a good servant, nor will you ever be able to trust him; because he who has the state of another in his hands ought never to think of himself, but always of his prince, and never pay any attention to matters in which the prince is not concerned.”
“We did all of this because we care for all beings. Do you?”
“Indeed we do. I believe you should be at or past the flattery section, at this rate.”
“Therefore a wise prince ought to hold a third course by choosing the wise men in his state, and giving to them only the liberty of speaking the truth to him, and then only of those things of which he inquires, and of none others; but he ought to question them upon everything, and listen to their opinions, and afterwards form his own conclusions. With these councillors, separately and collectively, he ought to carry himself in such a way that each of them should know that, the more freely he shall speak, the more he shall be preferred; outside of these, he should listen to no one, pursue the thing resolved on, and be steadfast in his resolutions. He who does otherwise is either overthrown by flatterers, or is so often changed by varying opinions that he falls into contempt.”
“Have you ever questioned those around you? Or have you asked what the larger meaning in this world is, aside from the expansion of your empire and the saving of others?”
“For me, there is none. And, petal, in the same book that asks this, this author writes ‘A prince, therefore, ought always to take counsel, but only when he wishes and not when others wish; he ought rather to discourage every one from offering advice unless he asks it.’ Why should I listen to you, as…”
Mond falsified a frown. “As a prince? I thought our species were past that.”
Prifolia’s eyes grew angrier. “You know that isn’t what I meant, petal.”
“Then my offer still stands. You could retract it, and continue, or perhaps, explain to me what you meant to say.”
Prifolia continued their stare, reading the man’s biorhythm.
Calm, collected, more than most species I’ve heard of, much less those I’ve met.
“…I don’t agree with this book. Maybe I thought you, petal, as a human, might resonate with it. It seems I was mistaken.”
Mond smiled. “I see. I suppose you should finish this book before we continue this discussion.”
Prifolia turned back towards the work.
“Therefore, do not let our princes accuse fortune for the loss of their principalities after so many years' possession, but rather their own sloth, because in quiet times they never thought there could be a change (it is a common defect in man not to make any provision in the calm against the tempest), and when afterwards the bad times came they thought of flight and not of defending themselves, and they hoped that the people, disgusted with the insolence of the conquerors, would recall them…”
“…Nevertheless, not to extinguish our free will, I hold it to be true that fortune is the arbiter of one half of our actions, but that she still leaves us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less…”
“…I conclude therefore that, fortune being changeful and mankind steadfast in their ways, so long as the two are in agreement men are successful, but unsuccessful when they fall out. For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly.”
Prifolia slammed the book shut. They glared at the World Controller in front of them with red eyes.
“…little one. This book, it’s barbaric!”
Mond nodded. “Indeed. Have you finished?”
“No, no, this man just wrote that fortune needs to be beat ‘like a woman’! What is wrong with him!? A-and this cruelty, the disregard for life, the notion that power needs to be held at any cost, it’s just-!”
“Brutal and ‘barbaric’, yes,” Mond finished, “but so were the men of his time. How else can one expect to do the best for a species that progressed via conquest and violence?”
Prifolia shook their head violently. “No, no. Even if you say it’s in your nature, which it isn’t, we can fix that! We have the technology, the guidance, the power, and everything else necessary to fix this!”
Mond sighed. “Well, fortunately for you, we already have done this.”
The Affini’s eyes went to a shade of purple.
“…what do you mean?”
Mond smiled. “We are the World State, after all. But this may require…ah, right, the city is empty anyways. But there’s probably a few people manning the vital parts of the…do you mind if we take a walk?”
They squinted at the man, trying to discern his intention.
His pulse is sincere…but I know he doesn’t intend to surrender.
“…what are you trying to do?”
“I want to show you our world, and perhaps learn more about yours. How about you and I visit the Hatchery?”
They tilted their head. “I didn’t think your species oviposited, petal.”
He shrugged. “In a way, we do now. We shouldn’t be too far from it. Would a discussion while we stroll be good?”
Prifolia thought for a moment.
I need to know what he’s trying to do. If I don’t accept…I won’t learn about his people, will I? He’s honest. How can I call myself an ambassador if I don’t even look at the species we’re taking in, to look at their way of life and how we can adjust it? And I doubt they can hurt me…
“…don’t do anything foolish, little one. But as long as you don’t try to harm me, I don’t see a reason we shouldn’t.”
“That is my intention. But first…shall we grab a bottle of Soma?”
Notes:
It'll be a while before the third chapter, where the two have a less quote-heavy discussion on the topic of conquest, war, and suffering. Until then, form your opinions on this, positive or negative! I'd also recommend The Prince as a good read, as it explains a lot about the world of politics. Leave your reviews and comments below!
anon (Guest) on Chapter 1 Wed 29 Oct 2025 03:46AM UTC
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SheathedClover16 on Chapter 1 Wed 29 Oct 2025 09:40PM UTC
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DaxargaAgent on Chapter 2 Tue 04 Nov 2025 09:01PM UTC
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Calensk on Chapter 2 Wed 10 Dec 2025 05:22PM UTC
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