Mitrinla woke up in her apartment in Xhetlodzej, grateful to be in the humming and constantly active capital city. She lived with tens of million others in the centre of the Raixhen Empire, and if she could make them, the people, see what she saw, things would change. She jolted up, and her teal head vines snapped in front of her face as she stopped. One vine landed over her nose, and she flicked it away. One of the flowers of the vine fell off and landed on the bed. With a groan, she picked up the flower. This was the wrong season to lose this many flowers. A few thorns sprouted from her smooth teal skin, and she skillfully clipped them in her bathroom before brushing her teeth. Mitrinla checked her teeth in the mirror, zeroing in on a fleck of green on her lower right canine. She used the thorn-claws on her fingers to clean the gaps between the teeth. Mitrinla’s feet kept getting stuck in the numerous articles of clothes on the floor. The ultimale kicked each piece into a nearby pile of clothes big enough to house sock goblins. She desperately needed to clean and wash, but that was for another day in a far distant future. In the present, she headed into the small kitchen where the old and trusty food preparing machine stood. Its sleek and metallic look hid the signs of its true age.
She tapped on the screen with her thorn-claw, then selected what she wanted for breakfast on the projected holoscreen. Carefully, Mitrinla positioned herself at the table within reach of where the food would be delivered by the machine. It hummed to life, and a symphony of sounds filled the air with the machine cutting vegetables and cracking eggs. Mitrinla set up her link and began typing on the projected holokeyboard. The sound of the food whirring around within the machine so as to not burn faded into background noise until a loud ding alerted her to the dish being ready.
Mitrinla grabbed the plate and placed it on the table with a clattering sound. As she started scrolling, reading the headlines of the Imperial News on the newssphere, her fork dug into the blue eggs and fried green vleem sticks.The fork in her hand moved out of habit between her plate and her mouth. As she chewed on the food, she typed in the search bar “exorizzen.” Results came up, and she picked the first result that was available.
A picture came up showing a news anchor in the corner with live footage. The news anchor, a midmale Raixhe, had long, plain, but translucent vines flowing to their shoulders. Their ears, shaped like pointed leaves, swept back from their head. Facing the camera, their red eyes with almond-shaped pupils were clear to the viewer. They held a linkpad with four-fingered hands. The anchor wore a black blazer with a blue blouse underneath, presenting a sharp contrast that emphasised their current female appearance. They said, “The latest rioting of the exorrizens in Injidzej on Noxhõt has finally stopped after over a centicycle. Local law enforcement intervened and put an end to the riot. The police took some rioters who sustained injuries to the hospital. One officer suffered more severe injuries but will survive.” The video showed people of various alien species, none of them Raixher, resisting the police, who were mostly Raixher.
Mitrinla narrowed her eyes at the scene before she paused the news. She pressed on the video and dragged it into the search bar to search for the video in the cognisphere. Perhaps other news agencies and channels had the same clip.
“Of course,” she said as she watched the coverage and finished her breakfast. “Has to be a riot, can’t be a demonstration gone wrong. That hasn’t ever happened.”
Mitrinla pulled on some jeans and a casual blouse before grabbing her bag. She took an elevator and emerged onto one of the large streets of the city. Xhetlodzej, the sprawling city, was out there. Tall skyscrapers reached up into the blue heaven, casting long shadows across the concrete jungle. The symphony of conversation played around Mitrinla as she navigated through the herds of people that moved along the maze of streets. Her orange eyes darted between people and the signs of innumerable colours clamoring for attention.
Mitrinla continued walking along the street as levcars drove above her high in the air along designated air-streets. Despite the levcars, moving about the city was quiet but for the people talking. Various vendors’ food and drinks filled the air, tempting even those with full stomachs. Mitrinla pulled in air through her olfostrils on a dark purple hexagonal-shaped patch on top of her nose and was met with a pleasant smell of all the food before she walked up to a stall along the street and smiled.
“Hiya,” she said to the vendor.
“Well, well, how is Mitra this day?” asked the primale owner, in the middle of mixing a drink.
He grabbed a dark purple liquid and mixed it with milky white cream. After shaking the disposable cup, he promptly put it, along with some sandwiches, in a bag. He then handed it to the waiting customer. He was a good dozen cm shorter than Mitrinla. His vines were shorter than hers as well and had thorns on them instead of flowers.
“Same old, same old,” she said, “just a bit more annoyed today, Lerxho.”
Lerxho smiled at Mitrinla.“The usual?”
She nodded as he started making her traditional order. He ground deep purple beans and glanced at her as he searched for more ingredients. “Imma take a guess and say, the riot?”
She glared at him. “It was a demonstration, not a riot!”
“It was something that gets called a riot.”
He got out the ground up beans and put them into a green-coloured metal device. With a hissing sound, water started pouring out and filling up a cup similar to the one he had used before.
Mitrinla scowled. “Yeah, the INC always does that when it comes to anything related to exorrizens. Take up the worst, and ignore the good.” Mitrinla sighed and leaned against his stall as she crossed her arms, flicking some of her vines out of her face.
He finished the drink by adding a squeeze of fruit juice into it, then handed her the drink. “I just make drinks to wake people up. Not much any one of us can do.”
“One day I will make it happen!” She took the drink and tapped her link against his, transferring money. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll come by later tomorrow.”
“Welcome back anytime!” he said, and waved her off. “I hope nothing bad happens to her,” he muttered once she was out of earshot.
Mitrinla grabbed her link and messaged a group: “We’re meeting tonight.”
Mitrinla rushed along Second Imperial Street amidst a chaotic swirl of Raixher going in all directions. The middle of the tempest of moving people saw the formation of clusters, creating blockages in the river of moving Raixher. She bustled her way through the groups of people, attempting to move as fast as possible. When she reached the corner of Imperial Square by the river, the congestion eased, and it became less of a fight to move forward and more of an easy stroll. People from outside the city set up stands within the Square at designated spots. Mitrinla walked across the large square, avoiding the people and their levtrucks, to the northeastern corner where she entered a diner that had a holographic sign outside that glowed bright and read “Closed” in Raixhen writing. Above the street hovered a larger holosign that read “Photon Phoods.” The diner's exterior was rounded and built with a mix of wood and metal intermingling to form a red and silver organic appearance. Inside, there were booths with leather seats and cyan-tinted wooden tables.
“I’m here!” she called out and walked into the back.
She moved past most of the half a dozen lockers and reached her own, pressing her thumb light as the locker opened up to reveal the copper- and silver-coloured uniform.
As Mitrinla buttoned up one of the pairs of buttons on her uniform blouse, a taller ultimale Raixhe came into the changing room.
“I half expected you to call in saying you couldn’t work,” the new ultimale said with arms crossed. Her smirk grew as Mitrinla rolled her eyes at the ultimale in the mirror on the locker door.
“Because of the news, huh? It takes time to organise a protest against that, Kibixha.”
Mitrinla closed the locker and faced Kibixha.
“Hasn’t stopped you before,” Kibixha said, then laughed as she uncrossed her arms. “Well, get ready for the day. I think it’ll be a busy one.”
She turned around and walked to the kitchen, loosening the tie on her vine bun, pushing in some vines that had escaped, and redoing the tie.
Mitrinla came out from the back and started cleaning the wooden tables. Hundreds of Raixher had eaten at the tables, and over the years, the inevitable spills of food and drinks had left their everlasting marks on the tables like a child with crayons leaving their mark on any walls within reach. No matter how hard Mitrinla could try, nothing short of an incinerator could clean the tables. As Mitrinla did her best, going from invisibly disgusting from bacteria feasting on remnants the entire night to visibly and olfactorly acceptable with a lemon-like scent, a midmale Raixhe unlocked the door with a swipe of their link and came inside. With a shake of their head, the Raixhe made their pink and purple vines flutter. A slight golden hue on the vines shimmered in the diner’s light as the vines swung. A chime sounded as they entered, and Mitrinla looked over and smiled.
“Hiya, Kaitju”
“Hiya Mitra! Glad to see you. I thought I’d only get to see later during the meeting.”
“Yeah yeah.” Mitrinla waved her hand dismissively in the air as if trying to get Kaitju’s thoughts to disappear with the minuscule wind her hands could muster. “It’s good you’re here so we can see summer is about to start.”
Kaitju brushed their vines back. “I prefer when they are pure summer golden, makes me look better when in gynophase.”
“I prefer autumn red when you’re androphase.” She clawed the air toward Kaitju.
They stuck out their tongue. “Such a pervert. I should go celibate just so you don’t get to see that.”
“But that’s the entire reason we’re friends, so I can see you in the androphase!”
Kaitju rolled their eyes before grinning and heading to the back. Once in uniform, they helped to clean off the tables as the duo talked about life since the day before yesterday. Once they finished cleaning and the diner was ready, they changed the sign outside to “Open.” It didn’t take long for the early morning Raixher to come into the diner. With their links and styluses, the friendly duo wrote down the orders from all the people at the tables. The orders flew into the kitchen, where Kibixha swiftly prepared the meals. Kaitju grabbed two plates and started to head off. They had barely left the counter when Mitrinla came after them.
“Those are mine.”
Kaitju raised an eyevine. “These are for my table.”
Mitrinla put her hands on her hips. “My table ordered this.”
“So did mine,” Kaitju said firmly.
“With a large portion dip Zheese?” She pointed to the large bowl of thick zheese.
Kaitju blushed, their cheeks turning bright green. Kibixha pointed with her spatula at the duo.
“That’s order #42, Mitra’s table, give it to her!” she called, focused on Kaitju.
Kaitju almost threw the plates to Mitrinla before running around to grab the actual plates they had gone for.
Customers came and went but as the sun approached the zenith, the gentle flow of people turned into a ravenous rapid. The initial flooding of customers had subsided when the door’s distinctive chime rang. Mitrinla cleaned the booth after customers had left, leaving Kaitju free to greet the newcomer. The new customer sat down at a table facing outward toward the Imperial assembly on the other side of the Square when Kaitju approached.
“Hello and welcome to Photon Phoods, may I take your order…” They looked perplexed at the alien. “…Ultam?”
Mitrinla swiftly intervened, nudging Kaitju aside, and said, “I’ll handle this.” She kept pushing Kaitju away before returning, “Sorry, Madir. My friend doesn’t get off the planet much, or at all.”
The alien interwove the tentacles that started midway down zhir arm and leaned on them gently. Zhi chuckled. “No worries, I am quite used to it.”
Mitrinla pulled her link and stylus back out from her apron pocket. Her gaze focused on the largest and most prominent eye, trying to not stare. “So what can I get you?”
“What do you recommend?” zhi asked.
“A lot, but here you won’t have to get vegetables.” She winked, knowing that animals were a minority in the Empire. “For lunch, I recommend the Chomp Zheese. Made from chopped vleem, meat, and combined with nectar cheese and Sizni mould cheese, molten between buns. If you like spicy, then the Chase the Zheese is what you want. I tend to take that one during my lunch or dinner.”
The Wistish alien pulled one of zhir tentacles under zhir chin, stroking it as zhir large, prominent eye gazed through Mitrinla, if that was possible. Zhi then nodded.
“Yeah, give me the spicy one.” Three of zhir four tentacles swiped across the table, making the projected menu disappear. “And I’d like some soda with it. A can of Sizzleaf would be nice.”
“Coming right up!”
Mitrinla wrote the order on her link with handwriting that even the best text recognition software struggled to recognise. After sending the file back to the kitchen, she walked to pour drinks at the fountain.
Kajtu came over and whispered, “Hey Mitra, what is she?”
“Zhi. Hermaphrodite, kinda.” She filled up the glass with Sizzleaf soda. “I’ll explain after work.” She then left Kaitju standing there, perplexed.
Returning to the large-eyed alien, Mitrinla handed over the drink before helping other customers. Mitrinla soon returned to the Wistish with zhir food. She placed the Chase the Zheese in front of zhim. Steam wafted from the bun and sides.
“I have a question,” the Wistish said.
“Sure, what is it?”
“From your accent, you’re not Raixhlan. Where are you from?”
Mitrinla put her hands on her hips, giving the Wistish a firm stare before chuckling. “That thick, eh? I’m from Afwanta, not terribly far from here. A stone’s throw if you can get it out of Raixhol’s gravity well.”
“I haven’t been there, is it nice?” Zhi dipped a fry into the bowl with sauce and ate it.
“It’s home,” Mitrinla said, shrugging. “But it’s an old colony, plenty of history. If you ever go there, don’t go to Srixha forest.”
“Why is that?” All five of zhir eyes, including the small ones around the large main eye, focused on Mitrinla.
“They say that whoever enters never leaves if the light from Raixhol hits the centre of the forest. Some say that those within are swept away to the Great Forest beyond, and the Xhaisins of the past leave them as lost in the beyond as they were in life.” She swept one of her hands through the air, then clenched her fingers together. “And the Xhaiser too, albeit they say he doesn’t deal with anyone but the most special of cases.”
The alien took a bite of the chomp. “Of course he doesn’t deal with ordinary people. He was too important in life and is too important after.”
Mitrinla shook her head. “No, I never liked that part of the tale.”
“I agree with you there,” the alien said, ”“I think he was never above anything he deemed important, no matter how small. That is what I got from the files when I read.”
“How much did you read before coming here?” She raised an eyevine and crossed her arms.
“As much as you, and a bit more.” Zhi pulled out a necklace with a flower background and a vine curling in front of it. At the centre, at the bottom, was a thorn.
Mitrinla stared at the necklace, then to zhir face. “Wait, you’re native to Raixhla?”
“Born and raised.” Zhi returned the necklace under zhir clothes. “Well, born and partly raised, we moved around quite a bit.”
“How do you feel about the news?” She looked over to Kaitju, dealing with other customers, before returning her attention to the Wistish.
The Wistish gave a light shrug as zhir lower arm tentacles spread out. “What can you do?” Zhir voice resonated with a hint of curiosity. “We exorrizens can’t do much, and most Raixher are content with how things are. I live well enough,” zhi continued, “even if I cannot get full citizenship. It’s good enough for me.”
“But don’t you want citizenship?” Mitrinla asked, puzzled.
“Nah, not worth it. I hope you’ll use yours well, though.”
Mitrinla looked at zhim. “Uh yeah, I can see where you’re coming from. Enjoy your lunch.” Mitrinla then walked away, not facing the customer.
After the last shift ended in the late afternoon, Mitrinla and Kaitju headed off. The afternoon rush and activity had long since passed as they walked along the street, and all that remained was the calm currents, like the tides from the three moons, each pulling in slightly different directions. Mitrinla yawned, stretching out her arms and interlocked the four fingered hands. One more stretch of her hands was all it took for the joints to give an audible crack.
Kajtu rolled their eyes “So, tell me now, what was zhi, and how did you know?”
“Zhir species, named Wistil,is from another Concert faction. We had a family of them in my town on Afwanta. We used to play when I was growing up.”
“So are they herms like the Limaces?”
“No, they…” Mitrinla rolled her eyes. “Kaitju, you’re so thorny isolated. No, it’s complicated. They have six sexes, some of which are ‘herm’”–Mitrinla made air quotes–“and others are male and female like. If anyone says we Raixher are complicated, tell them that the Wistil are worse.
“Oh, I see,” they said, “Why have you never told me about this species?”
“What, you want me to tell you everything from my home? That is too much.”
“But a species with six sexes!” Kaitju elongated the pronunciation of the number.
“And we have three, that is not the norm, either.”
“It isn’t? It sure feels normal!”
Mitrinla face palmed. “Because it is to us and… You know what, never mind. Let’s go to the HQ and have the meeting.”
“Fine,” Kajtu said with a pout.
The flow of people, which consisted mostly of other Raixher but had a sprinkling of various other species from the Empire, grew thinner and slower as the friends got further away from the central parts of the capital. A trio of teen Raixher zoomed by on levskates, one between Kaitju and Mitrinla, the other two on either side.
Kaitju almost lost their balance from the surprise, but Mitrinla quickly grabbed onto their arm and kept them from falling,
“Watch it!” she called after the reckless skaters. The teens ignored her before dashing around a corner and disappearing. Mitrinla groaned, then sighed as she looked to her friend. “Are you alright?”
“Did someone catch the vehicle cogni-number on that train?” Kaitju said, looking dazed as they slowly got their balance back.
Mitrinla chuckled, “No, but maybe next time.”
They approached a tall apartment complex with dozens of floors and hundreds of apartments inside.
Kajtu looked at the building as it went up into the heavens. “I feel like a renegade calling this an HQ.”
Mitrinla’s face turned to disgust as she looked at Kajtu “Please don’t say that. The idea of being one gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah, blergh,” they said, making a gagging motion. The two then walked into the alley between the building they had approached and a neighbouring one. In the alley, on the side of the main building, a set of stairs down to a door leading into the complex. Mitrinla knocked on the door. A door viewer opened, and a pair of eyes with diagonal pupils looked out.
“Password?”
“Open the damn door, you manure filled vegetable!” Mitrinla said in an annoyed voice.
“How did you know we had changed it?” The eyes winked, then the door viewer closed. The locking mechanism opened soon after, and the person, a Raixhen primale, stood there by the door and let them inside. The top of his head reached eye level on Mitrinla. His head vines had thorns instead of the plain ones that Kaitju had or the flowers Mitrinla’s vines had. He wore a red leather jacket with small spikes on the shoulders. On the belt of his trousers hung his link from a lev-chain with a holo-brush by its side.
Mitrinla snorted. “If we go on like this, we might get the Nightshades after us as they think we are gonna start a revolution against the Xhaisin.”
She and Kajtu went inside as Ksommo closed the door again and locked it. They walked into another room where a table stood bearing drinks and snacks. Around the table sat four people, three additional Raixher and on one side of the three sat a Tsxobjez who was, for now, male.
Mitrinla smiled at him. “Hiya Tsinil, how’d the phasing go this time around?”
He made a groan as his four-tentacled hands grabbed two of the large orange, tentacle-like structures on his head and pulled them down. “Awful, just awful. Had to call in sick.”
Mitrinla elbowed Kaitju. “And you say you midmales have it bad.”
“It’s bad! Just in a different way,” they said with a pout before sitting down.
“At least you don’t risk having to squeeze out a giant seed just because you have fun,” Mitrinla responded, sitting down next to Tsinil.
Ksommo joined the table. “Are we missing any?”
One of the other Raixher, an ultimale named Kfanta, spoke, “We are missing Tenja.”
“Aren’t they sick?” Tsinil asked.
Kajtu spoke, “No, they are… shifting perspective.”
“Oh, phasing?”
Mitrinla laughed. “Someone had a fun cycle-end! Well, we can go on without them for now, and they can catch up when they feel better.”
“Aren’t euphemisms wonderful?” Ksommo said, chuckling.
“Wait, we’re missing Adva, or is zhi not coming?” Kaitju asked.
Mitrinla looked around, “Zhi’s not come yet?” The rest shook their heads.
“We thought zhi’d come with you,” Kfanta said.
Mitrinla was about to answer when there was a rattling on the window. The group froze as a figure appeared in one of the ground level windows. The window opened, and everyone in the HQ lair tensed. A feminine figure squeezed through the narrow window, zhir leafy head coming through first before pulling the rest of zhirself through, landing athletically on zhir feet.
“I’m here!” Adva announced. One pair of arms stretched up toward the ceiling as if in victory, the other pair pointing at zhir body as if proud of zhir entrance. Zhir face bore a faint semblance of a venus flytrap, and the loose top zhi wore left zhir well-developed arm muscles on full display. Zhir trousers were uneven, with one side cut off at the thigh and the other stretching down to zhir ankle.
“What?” zhi asked, as all of them just stared.
Mitrinla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you couldn’t just take the door?”
“Then I’d have to endure one of Ksommo’s shitty doorman jokes, and those should be against the Orion Accords.” The pair of arms that went upward landed on zhir hips before zhi grabbed a chair and turned it around so it faced the wrong way as zhi sat on it.
Ksommo glared. “I’m not that bad.” He pulled out a blank game board and put it on the table.
Adva looked at him as one pair of arms rested on the top of the chair back, “Oh yeah? What would you have said when you opened for me?”
He activated the board with his link as it painted out a full on game where it had once been black. “I ordered the salad four millicycles ago.”
Adva stared at him, then shrugged. “Not too bad, but still a crime!”
“Yeah, lock me up for the jokes! Let’s get gaming now, what are we playing?”
“How about Colonists of Alvona?” Kfanta suggested. The rest around the table nodded, and with a few selections on Ksommo’s link, the board changed and colours came up in a pattern, turning into a tillable board which randomised the tiles on it until it all settled. They grabbed cognicards that similarly went from black to having images on the back and front, once they had loaded the deck they were meant to be. The game soon started as they chatted with each other, ate snacks, and drank soda.
Mitrinla grabbed the dice and tossed them, the numbers on each face changing each time they bounced. She moved her pieces. “We gotta plan the next demonstration.”
“In response to the so-called ‘riot’?” said one of the other ultimales, Pferrta.
“Yeah, it is not fair!” Mitrinla slammed her piece down. “At work today, an awesome Wistish came in. Born and raised in the Empire, perfect accent, but noooo. Zhi cannot vote and-”
“Neither can we.” Ksommo reached for the dice and threw them.
Mitrina crossed her arms. “Yeah, because we haven’t served in the Imperial Fleet yet.”
Adva snapped open a can. “Why should we? Bunch of stuck up weeds that demands you do as they say just because they got fancy marks on their uniform.”
Mitrinla sighed. “Yeah, but we have the choice to do it if we want. The exorrizens like zhim don’t even get that choice.”
“Rooting for the roots, Mitra,” said Kfanta as she played her turn. “Let’s not beat around the bush then. We’ll set up a demonstration, with permits and all so they can have the same rights as us to throw away.”
Mitrinla frowned, “You don’t have to phrase it like that…”
Adva grinned. “It is more fun though.”
“We have to gather people,” Kaitju said. “Shall I send it out on the usual channels?”
“That’s more like it!” Mitrinla smiled. “But we have a few things to prepare before you do.”
As the evening continued with them playing games, the plans for the demonstration blossomed until its success felt inevitable.