Chapter 90 39:
Absorbed in the manuscript of such an eccentric native, she turned the pages with a memorized softness, occasionally stopping at fragments that captured her attention, especially when they spoke of the castes.
The extensive information was disturbingly fascinating, given the meticulousness with which it detailed things according to what he learned in his free time under her supervision.
But even so, Korr-add had managed to articulate an analysis of the imperial structure that most Viltrumites, with centuries of experience, would not even dare to consider because of their deeply rooted indoctrination.
This entire manuscript, in the most primitive form of preserving information, was sufficiently unsettling, so much so that it could subvert any other ordinary Viltrumite within the empire. Which made it dangerous, for that possible susceptibility could bring about a wave of lynchings in order to vindicate loyalty toward the empire and its directives.
For any other Viltrumite, no other truth existed, only the imperial one; and that truth had remained immutable for millennia.
Vexa's calmness, absorbed in that journal, made her appear solemn beneath the artificial light of that room which reflected the lunar brightness outside, witnessed by the stars.
Despite paying no attention to her surroundings, she was able to feel the presence of others who seemed to have landed at her home.
This presence seemed to be approaching her location, but she gave it no importance, since she knew they would come to see her.
In fact, that decision to come here had been for the purpose of meeting with those not-so-unknown intruders.
Then those strangers entered the room, stopping at the threshold as the magnetic doors unfolded.
They were Viltrumites, as was to be expected. The inhabitants of the moons were strictly forbidden from possessing colonial "servants," so everything that required an effort undesired by Viltrumites had to be done by themselves.
Obviously, even with those restrictions, they had been able to find a way around them through the use of artificial labor, such as autonomous robots.
From the shape of their bodies and the posture they adopted, with their arms crossed over their chests and their legs slightly apart, they were two of her closest collaborators outside the Dorymathos.
They wore the characteristic Viltrumite fauld, a long garment with austere lines that descended to the knees and almost completely concealed the silhouette beneath a rigid structure. The fabric remained immaculate, of a duller white (by the regent's orders as a symbolic stain of the faction itself), throughout most of the uniform, except for the front portion, where a broad blue stripe covered the chest and continued uninterrupted until it wrapped around the hood that partially concealed their faces.
Two horizontal bars, perfectly aligned across the blue chest section, identified their elevated rank within the caste of makers, representing their place within the elite of that faction.
Vexa recognized those insignias instantly.
"Vexa-6," said the taller one with a marked gravity in his inflexible voice. "We did not expect to find you here... nor for you to decide to meet with us with such urgency... it wasn't supposed to..."
"The plans have changed," she interrupted him with a firm voice. Yet through that constant response that left no room for discussion, a hidden weariness within her could be perceived, incapable of being concealed before the two "makers."
Her fingers brushed against the spine of the journal she held in her hands, searching for the right words with which to explain her thoughts, when she said, "The scandal with those Lithari slaves has turned everything upside down. Security has become stricter. We can no longer move around with such freedom and, all the more so, we will be watched even more closely."
She said this, recalling having participated in a small meeting within the Dorymathos. There, the new director in charge had expressed strong opinions about possible complicity between those slaves and the Shöpf-er-blau (blues).
"It is likely that an imperial commission will decide to sweep through the moons in order to find conclusive proof that there is some conspiracy on our part; in short, they will blame us to justify... another population reduction..." That news struck both of them like a great bitter swallow. They, who were isolated from everything happening in the empire, Vexa's importance as an informant was crucial.
They probably would not even have learned about this possible decision if it had not been for her. In any case, this news was very negative.
"The adjustments to the plan, though minor, I fear will be drastic. Such as the fact that we have to relocate everything; we do not want them to find 'that,' right?"
At those words, the taller one exchanged a glance with his companion, and then the latter stepped forward, his fists clenched, tightening his jaw from the tension stirred by his emotions.
"All the more reason we must strike now; the weapon is already finished." He said, urgency filtering through his serene words. "It is expected to be just as lethal as the prohibited material. We only need a simple opportunity; simply by getting close to the regent, repeating what the traitor did to the emperor himself would be child's play. Or do you perhaps think he is truly invincible as he boasts so much? Well, I do not believe it. All biological life has a limit that flesh simply cannot surpass, we have hope. One single move, and everything will have been worth it."
She slowly shook her head, in complete disagreement.
Like her, many of those who followed her were young compared to other Viltrumites. In fact, there were few relics left from the era of the great purge, especially within the Shöpf-er-blau.
Therefore, they were incapable of comprehending the personal might of the regent himself over his own species. He simply was unique, and all these people were nothing more than mere epistemological academics and scientists. Few had stained their hands with blood, not to mention that almost no one had the courage to do so; it had never been instilled in them nearly as much as it had been in her.
Mere builders absorbed in their own occupational burdens.
Nevertheless, it was the only faction where she could truly find acceptable allies without running the risk of being betrayed.
So it was her duty, despite being even younger than them, to have to explain why that mere attempt could be the most difficult thing in all of imperial history.
"That is complete nonsense," she replied, and her tone hardened. "Not to mention that it would be total ruin. For us, for our people, for any seed of a future that may still germinate within this empire. Regent Thragg... Thragg must live."
That last word left the two of them bewildered. Their brows furrowed, confronting her.
"What has happened to you, Vexa?" the thinner one intervened, with a mixture of disbelief and reproach. "We have been noticing an abrupt change on your part during these last 4 cycles. The plan... not only was it infallible, but you yourself devised it. Do you now doubt your own intelligence, do you doubt the purpose for which you were engendered?"
She lowered her gaze toward the journal, her fingers running across the worn pages.
"I was wrong," she finally confessed, without any remorse. "I repeat, Thragg cannot be killed, that would provoke the imperial collapse."
The silence became noticeable among them, but Vexa did not care. In fact, without lifting her eyes, she added,
"Thragg represents the territorial balance that maintains this perpetual war. Without him, as soon as our enemies notice it, they will not hesitate to set the universe ablaze if necessary, if that means eliminating our species. We are powerful, but we have weaknesses. He does not have them. Therefore, he is a necessary monster; his power deters direct attacks against Viltrum, and his death would unleash even greater chaos. The galaxy fears Thragg, but not the Viltrumite." She emphasized, implying that that regent could even be considered a specimen separate from the race itself.