The Worldmonger's World

A Worldmonger contemplates the value of her affection for her homeworld after she is made a deal she can't refuse.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Ms. Dobrick."

I try to heed the words as I nod with a practiced smile, though my mind is elsewhere. It's back on Tephra, my homeworld, admiring the beautiful plains of saffron-stained sulfur that give rise to staunch smoky vapors from the crevices in the earth. The uneven mossy loam is green and the pale overcast sky is blue-- my parents’ farm sits undisturbed beside the geothermal basins that every now and then explode skyward into frothy geysers of life-sustaining water and crystalline sulfur that they and so many millions of others depend on to make a living. Every time I appraise a new world, I think about all the ways that they're similar so I can come to appreciate them on my own terms. Through my words, I bring those vivid mental canvases to life-- it's why I've managed to successfully trade fifteen planets in a row, a company record for the Systern Business Conglomerate.  

Now as a Senior Worldmonger, my career is in a place I’ve grown to be increasingly less comfortable with. I know that I shouldn't have to rely on a crutch in order to get ahead, it's a source of weakness that can easily be taken away or exploited. And it's led me to sometimes wonder about all the people that live on the planets I give approval to be sold off, and what it all means to them. My perspective, my affection is not unique, I know that-- yet, I still feel as though it is. Every time a client expresses interest in Tephra, I point them someplace else, be it towards the lush canopy-world of Basilis or the red anthocyanin fields of Pontifex A in the vain hope that I shouldn't have to lose the place that I personally hold most dear. Every time I'm engrossed by its emerald auroral horizon I'm filled with unease because I know that one day, I'll have to make the decision between it and my own future, just like I’ve done for so many others. 

Today I'm scheduled for a return visit to Tephra to see my sister and parents. I typically try to make a return visit after each sale to refresh my memory, even if I don't end up seeing my family. But this time, something felt different; I could tell as soon as I stepped out of the arrivals bay on the orbital terminal stationed above the planet and locked eyes with the CEO of the Vaum Corpus himself, Edde Vaum, who held his hands behind his back by the observation deck overlooking the horizon. 

"Hello there. Amara Dobrick, Systern Business Conglomerate?" He prompts as I approach him with my remote-case trailing not too far behind. I give him a surprised yet skeptical look, unsure what to expect; flanking him are two of what I can only assume are overdressed members of his security detail. "Edde Vaum, Vaum Corpus."

I shake his large, outstretched hand. "Pleasure. Visiting Tephra, are you?" He smiles with controlled precision in response. It was unusual for a CEO of such caliber, much less a member of the Fortune Fifty Trillionaires to so nonchalantly make a stop at such a small planet barely off the galactic grid. His scraggly beard and tired, narrow eyes didn't seem to denote much prior preparation either. 

"Actually, visiting your employer. I was told you were the closest available Worldmonger at the moment." I feel my mouth begin to dry up, though I carefully maintain my professionalism. 

"That's me. Senior Worldmonger now, actually," I state somewhat proudly. He raises an eyebrow.

"Ah. Apologies. Congratulations on the promotion." He takes a moment before moving on. "As you might've guessed, I'm here to discuss business." I gesture towards the seating area, making sure my remote-case is in reach before settling in after my potential client. 

"I see. So what sparked your interest in our world? I can't imagine it was tourism, considering the relative remoteness of our system." I didn't usually begin with a demeaning remark about a planet I was going to potentially trade, which was odd. He chuckles with deliberation. 

"Ha, no. Although I have heard there are quite some astonishing views here." He clears his throat. "We're actually more interested in the Tritium deposits ingrained in the planet's crust. The Vaum Corpus is hoping to expand its mining operations into the nearby realm in order to bolster growing demand for development of universal fusion technologies." I hadn't considered the potential value of those deposits beforehand, but the way he put it made it seem like an oversight.

"I see. What are your intentions with our world then exactly, should you trade for it?"

"We'd like to convert it into a dedicated ground-mining enterprise. Strip the surface for mineral export," he says without missing a beat. "We're willing to offer 2 trillion."

For a moment, I'm so taken aback that I don't know what to say. The answer would be obvious to any other Worldmonger-- the price-to-size ratio was far too good to be true prior to any sort of negotiation. The words 'we have a deal' should've come to me immediately. Yet, I take a moment to hesitate. 

"Let me speak with my administrators. We'll need to sort out paperwork and legal mandates with our Board of World Representatives first," I quickly fumble through. Mr. Vaum again smiles lightly, though his experience doesn't seem to lend to being entirely convinced. Typically a deal could be struck without much prior filing, I was simply making excuses. 

"Of course. Give me a call when you're ready to go over your terms, then."

The next day I arrive at Tephra Sky Shelter 4, part of a collective of unpaid median-class refuges in low orbit for the financially insecure. It’s the place where my older sister Mio has been living for the past couple of years. She never asks anything from me, in fact she hates pity above most other things; it's why we've managed to maintain a friendly relationship, even with our different educations and paths in life. With recent events, I found myself looking for her guidance more than ever, struggling with the burden of this incalculable weight on my shoulders. 

The shelter doesn't offer much in terms of luxuries: Living compartments are squeezed together floor-by-floor along the scuffed interior hull with narrow grated walkways connecting them across and adjacently, each with a single, pill-shaped oblong plaston-glass window beside the pressurized hatchway to each cabin. The overhead lighting is dim, intermittently-functioning fluorescent light-strips bolted flush against the fraying and piped ceiling diminishing visibility even during daytime hours. The rows upon rows of stacked steel hatches and mostly illuminated windows seemed to stretch endlessly down the vertically spacious, yet claustrophobic corridors of the orbital refuge. I estimate that there's probably about 100,000 people compressed into this hollow container more fit for vehicular cargo than permanent residents. Mio was occupant 11-582-3Y, a convoluted string denoting her room allocation in corridor Y on the third floor; at this point I've gotten mostly used to navigating the gridlike labyrinthine layout of the shelter, as daunting as it initially seemed, thanks to her room hugging the far starboard side of the satellite which offered a fairly consistent planetary view of Tephra's crescent. I just wanted to get there as quick as possible-- the shifty eyes, musty draft and cool stench of fuel weren't exactly doing my anxiety any favors. 

I step out of the elevator with a flickering overhead light and hastily make my way down the dark slender catwalk, being careful not to lose my footing on the grating. I pause in front of hatch 11-582, taking in a breath of stale air in deliberation of my next few words. I finally raise a fist to knock against the scratched hollow steel and hear a voice from inside not long after telling me to let myself in. Typical Mio, too torpid to even meet me at the door. 

"Hey sis," Mio calls from the other room, "I'll be out in a second."

"What're you doing?" As I step in I briefly sweep my gaze across the cluttered living area, roughly the size of my office, complete with a coffee table, armchair and couch. The slightly open shades let muted green light pour in from Tephra's auroral horizon, washing out all other color in the room. A filmic catalog lays idly on the seat of the unoccupied armchair in the far corner, illuminating animated snippets from the latest trends in fashion. 

"Just splitting some pills." I hear a loud thunk after her remark, piquing my interest enough to enter the occupied kitchen. White noise from the overhead circulation vent drowns out any possibility of a soft-spoken conversation. 

"Pills? What pills?" I make a lousy attempt at masking my concern. As I meet Mio by the kitchen doorway, I'm immediately alarmed by her appearance; her face carries hollower cheeks with a more pronounced jaw, her body and dark olive skin seeming to poorly fill in the folds of her clothes as she carefully steadies a combat knife against the grain-sized pellet. I manage to hold back a gasp. "Oh, god. Mio, what happened?"

She smiles brightly, with more wrinkles than I remember. "Rehab is what happened. I'm three months sober. Aren't you proud of me?" She brings the service knife down again with another loud thunk, more than enough force to split the capsule on the plaston cutting board. "These help with the withdrawal. Don't worry, they're prescribed."

My memory lapse seems to end after I recall her recent struggle with synthetic Paroxys, or "Flare" addiction. I'd been too absorbed by my own work to be involved much in my family's affairs. "I... I'm happy for you. It's good you're making a change, I'm sorry I didn't know." Mio produces another wry smile, brushing away a loose tuft of unbrushed hair. I've always envied her ability to be so impromptu, even in a situation like this.

"It's okay. I know you have your own problems to worry about." She pauses to swallow the split tablets, chasing them with a glass of water. "I'm guessing that's why you're here, right?"

I nod, suddenly guilty. "Yeah. It's Tephra, Mio. They want Tephra."   

Mio does nothing but sigh, putting one hand on her hip and the other against the countertop after finishing her water. Then she walks past me into the living room, gesturing for me to follow. She takes a seat in the armchair, switching off the filmic catalog, and I join her on the tattered couch beside it in the dim emerald dusk. 

"So what's different this time? You can't just turn them towards someplace else?" She prods. 

"No. It's the Vaum Corpus." Her expression darkens almost immediately. 

"So they finally reached our realm, huh?" She takes a moment to pause and lean back. "Well, it was only a matter of time I guess. We held them off long enough." She spins her knife between her fingertips as I reflect on her stories of her service in the Tephran Defense Army, sent to drive out violent, lingering corporate interests in the surrounding realms all those years ago. Though the Vaum Corpus was never among them, it was no secret their goals were aligned all the same. "What do you want me to say, Amara? It doesn't really seem like there's much to discuss."

"I don't know."

"Is that the attitude you have at work, too?" She jabs sarcastically, though I don't humor her. She sighs again. "Look. At some point, you're going to need to learn how to set aside your own feelings if you want to play a part in the bigger picture. To be completely honest, I'm surprised you haven't already. This is what you chose, so you need to live with it."

"Yeah, I know, I know. But this is our world, Mio. It's where we grew up, where our parents grew up. You know what Vaum will do once they get their hands on it." She sends me an irked glare, but I'm looking past her at the drifting auroras between the slats. 

"And what about all those other worlds you sold off, and all the people who lived on them and loved them? You think they don't feel the sting of seeing their birthplace being torn up layer by layer and liquidated for profit?" The answer I expected comes back to bite me, like it deserved to. How do I battle this hypocrisy when it's founded in something so integral to who I am? "We both know those corporate b******s don't hold anything back. They don't care one bit about how green the auroras are or how blue the sky is."

I look back at her. "So what, do I just give up then?" Her stern expression turns grim. 

"Either you do, or someone like you will. Right now, you have the power to decide if it happens on your terms or not." She stops for a moment, then chuckles coldly. "This is already an industry world. I doubt people will be much bothered by it turning into another one."

After our conversation comes to a close a couple of hours later, I exit Mio's apartment with a newfound determination. Hearing her words earlier cemented my resolve in something tangible. She was right; I alone had the power to decide how the future would transpire. And maybe my choices were enough to really make a difference for once. I pace towards the elevator and begin to dial Edde Vaum's number on my pad, repeatedly going over my next few words in my head.

He picks up rather quickly. "Edde Vaum speaking."

"This is Amara Dobrick. I'm ready to discuss details."

"Ms. Dobrick. Ah, good. When can we meet then?" His tone is suddenly enthusiastic; I take a deep breath, briefly wondering whether this was even worth trying. 

"Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to join me on a guided orbital audit of Tephra before you make your decision. I'd like to go over some of the things you might see and expect from your purchase first. Since Systern Business was founded on and currently operates from here, we know its ins and outs like the back of our hand--"

"Apologies, I don't mean to be rude, but frankly we don't have the time for that. We like to conduct our business quickly and efficiently. I think a brief session for paperwork and legal counsel is sufficient for the deal we want to make," Vaum cuts me off with. I steel myself, being careful not to get carried away.

"I don't mean to insist, but don't you want to make sure your potential assets are in order before you make such a large investment? After all, our realm isn't regularly monitored officially due to our remote off-grid presence and sovereign world jurisdiction. Most people have free reign under local law." Vaum is quiet for a moment, hopefully mulling over my proposition.

"Hm. I suppose you raise a valid point." He stops, and for a moment it looks like he might change his mind again. "OK, you've convinced me Ms. Dobrick. I think I'd like to see Tephra's famous views after all. I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then?"

"Sure. Thanks for reconsidering," I add with zest. After hanging up, I'm filled with a kindling hope. Perhaps there's a way to save my world after all-- it's simply a matter of perspective. 

Shortly before the scheduled Vaum audit, I receive a personal request from the Tephran Board of World Representatives. I'm still on the surface, preparing for my trip into orbit to meet with him, but the message seemed urgent; it was from one of the junior members of the Board, a representative named Boa Lucin. She said she wanted to meet with me privately, and that it was an urgent matter regarding our soon-to-be business with the Vaum Corpus. I wasn't exactly surprised by the fact that they reached out to me prior to the deal taking place, what did was that it was just one member requesting a personal meeting. On top of that, I'd never heard of Ms. Lucin, even with my decent familiarity of the members of the Board. Maybe that's what piqued my interest enough to accept her invitation to talk. 

I meekly enter the Representatives' boardroom, located in the Embassy of Worldly Affairs not far from the launch terminal. The space was uncomfortably large and dark for a supposedly private meeting, clearly set up for the seating accommodation of an indeterminate amount of foreign councilors and corporate attorneys. I'd entered behind the main podium where the Board's seats were placed, the only part of the room that was even slightly illuminated. I momentarily look around for the junior representative when I notice she's already taken a seat at the end of the brushed aluminum round table used by her committee. For a second I hesitate to do the same, before I'm waved over.

"Ms. Dobrick, thanks for meeting me. I'm glad you could make the time with your busy schedule." Though her words are refined, I'm taken aback by how much higher her voice sounded and how much younger she looked than what I'd previously assumed. Her long puffy, curly hair almost makes it difficult to take her seriously for a moment, but based on her traditional garments and distinct olive complexion there was no mistaking that she was a native of Tephra. 

"No problem, though I'm not sure I can talk long." I finally take a seat opposite her at the counter, feeling increasingly uncomfortable occupying a spot reserved for members of the Board. "Pardon me for asking, but is this really the best place for what you had in mind?"

She laughs openly at my comment, taking me by surprise. "Sorry. There weren't many other spots I could think of that were more suitable. Also, I don't have single access to most private meeting rooms in the embassy yet." I'm intrigued by her implication.

"Suitable for...?"

"Right. I guess that brings me to my point," she says with a sigh. "I just want you to know that for me, this is off the record. I'm asking you personally-- please don't accept the Vaum Corpus' offer to purchase Tephra."

I pause before opening my mouth to respond, and she continues. "I know that doing so would be a massive financial loss for Systern Business. From a business standpoint, there's no benefit for you in declining their offer. But think about it; under the Vaum Corpus there'll be massive, likely irreparable environmental damage leading to widespread extinction of biodiversity and fauna, erasure of countless indigenous cultures, and total transformation of our socioeconomic political systems and traditions. Most current residents of the planet will be forced to leave or seek work under Vaum if they're even qualified. Sulfur export, our lifeblood, will be drowned out or abandoned entirely. We'll just become another statistic, another nameless mining colony under one of their endless manifests, and I know that can't possibly be the will of our people. I could go on, but I think you get the point-- this is a moral issue, not a commercial one. You were born and raised here too, weren't you? You'd understand."

I nod, remaining quiet for another moment. "Yes, I was. But let me ask you something first, Ms. Lucin; what reason exactly do you have for jeopardizing the credibility of your young, flourishing career just to ask this from us?" She seems to lose a bit of confidence following my inquiry. "I can't imagine you told the rest of the Board about our discussion."

"Well, no. You're right, I didn't. But there's something you should know about me Ms. Dobrick: I don't like giving up when I know I can fight, that's not how I won two mayoral elections in my hometown. If there's a fight to be fought, I'll be there. Right now my fight is on the side of our world, for all its people and wonderful forms of life. And quite frankly Ms. Dobrick, you're the one who's threatening to throw it all into balance," she proclaims pointedly. "I'm not afraid to say it. My love for them outweighs my personal responsibilities as a World Representative. If you truly care about Tephra, you'd think so too." Her eyes now burn with rekindled confidence and hopeful tenacity.

I feel myself growing conflicted by her words. Obviously, deep down I felt the same way-- but the rational side of me knew that kind of naïve expectation didn’t reflect how things really worked in the professional world. It seemed she was still too young to have experienced it herself; if she were truly unafraid, this isn't how we'd be having this conversation.  

"I know how you feel Ms. Lucin, but..." I struggle to find the right words, "this isn't avoidable. If not now, then surely later. If not me, then someone else. If not this world, then one just like it. It's simply the way things are." I break her gaze as she shrinks into her seat, discouraged. It hurt more when I acknowledged the truth to her words, that I was currently fighting against the very thing I loved and appreciated most. "I'm sorry. If it's any reassurance, let me say one thing; the deal isn't over yet. Things can still change, they always might."

I'm shaken from my reflections by Mr. Vaum's prompt to continue my explanation. We're hovering in close orbit above Tephra's northern hemisphere inside a Variable Observation Bubble, or VOB, and I was going over details regarding the planet's atmospheric composition from multiple different angles. For some reason I'd been paused on Mr. Vaum's son, Casek, who he'd requested to bring along on the audit. Just then I'd been reminded of an earlier conversation.

"I'm sorry, where was I?" I ask embarrassingly. 

"The numbers regarding gaseous composition in the atmosphere?" Vaum suggests.

Though I'd lost my train of thought, I was sure that wasn't where I was going with my point. It seemed he wanted to get down to the raw data and figures, not receive an ecology lesson.

"Ah... right. Atmospheric composition constitutes a 2:1 ratio of nitrogen to oxygen, somewhat similar to prime Earth and other habitable worlds, with a 65% nitrogen and 32% oxygen volume content. The remaining percentage is comprised of greenhouse gases like methane, carbon dioxide and trace amounts of hydrogen sulfide. This has allowed for complex biodiversity to flourish, even before human colonization and terraformation. Most of it is however limited to marine environments, as many introduced chlorophyll-based organisms on land have yet to adapt to the highly temperate, acidic, and mineral-dense water." As I speak, I draw the frontal membrane of the VOB's superstratum closer with a receding gesture to adjust the focal point and create a lens-like magnification of the coasts on the planet below. The fluid-plaston veneer of the Bubble waves and stretches like the surface of water as it molds at my command. "Temperatures at sea level commonly range from -10 to 15 degrees celsius from night to day, with only one annual season..." I stop for a moment, remarking that I no longer appear to have Mr. Vaum's attention. "...Is there anything else you wanted to know?"

He stands with his arms crossed behind his back near the transparent frontal stratum of the Bubble, overlooking the planet's greenish yellow terrain below. He's quiet for another beat before answering. "Apologies. I was lost in thought. Can you give me the numbers on surface crust composition?"

"Sure, I was just getting to that." I clear my throat and continue. "A large portion of the planet's surface is covered in geothermal springs that produce superabundant amounts of crystalline sulfur, including from other geological sources such as volcanoes and subterranean lakes." I quickly maneuver the VOB to a spot where the sulfur plains and active volcanic sites are clearly visible through the magnified lensing membrane. I then point out the massive caldera visible on the horizon, Cisterna Minor, as an example. "These larger calderas are mostly ancient and now benign, but many of the smaller ones continue to generate volcanic activity. The geologically active mantle also results in frequent earthquakes and large tidal waves, but the volcanoes are the ones that most frequently change surface geography and ecology, as well as causing erratic dips in temperature--"

"I was just asking for the numbers, please." 

I pause for a moment, rewording my intent. "Well you see, those specifics are inherent to my overview. If you'd like, I could try to condense all the crucial details, but then there wouldn't be much point to doing an audit like this." Vaum glares at me impatiently, but is cut off before he can reply. 

"I'd like to hear the rest Ms. Dobrick, if you don't mind." The voice originates from Vaum's son, Casek, who has spoken up ahead of his father. "I'm interested to learn more about your planet. In fact, I'd also like to visit the surface, if we can spare the time?"

I develop an unintentional smirk, but quickly straighten it with professional tact. "Well, it wasn't part of the plan initially, but it could easily be arranged. How would you feel about that Mr. Vaum?"

"Actually, I think we've learned enough. We don't normally go into such detail when making trade deals, nor do we believe it's entirely necessary, so I think it's fair to end it here." His assertion is firm.

"I thought you told me you were bringing me along for hands-on experience," Casek challenges. "I wouldn't say, personally, that watching like a spectator from above has achieved that goal. Would you, sir?" Vaum seems to contemplate his son's words carefully, while I listen with bated breath. It seemed like quite a unique opportunity was beginning to present itself; could it be that the future CEO of the Vaum Corpus was being groomed right before my eyes?

"Hm. Well, I suppose that's a fair argument-- it would be meaningless to argue the differences in our interpretation of past words." Vaum then turns to me, reluctantly resigning. "You heard the boy, then. Take us to the surface."

I'm the first one to step out of the VOB and sample Tephra's cool, ample air, as well as all its familiar scents. An overcast sky encourages a chilling gust of wind to tear through the open plains as the others exit the pod, reminding me to fasten up my climate-controlled jacket. Vaum seems immediately put off by his new environment, hastily buttoning up his own felt coat as his expression scrunches up after catching a whiff of the strong, permeating smell of sulfur in the air. Meanwhile Casek appears to be taken in by the experience, his head on a swivel as he studies the volcanic mountain ranges in the distance. It takes them both a moment to adjust to the marginally lower level of gravity as they nearly lose their balance descending the ramp. The rocky, mossy loam crunches and squeaks beneath our feet as we move away from the translucent spherical craft.

"Sorry, but the smell is nauseating. Is there anywhere that has a more pleasant... aroma?" Vaum urges, trying his best to keep a flat expression. 

"Well, there are areas where it's less pervasive, yes. But due to the massive amount of geothermal deposits that exist here, it's simply one of the many qualities this world harbors overall." By this point, I and many other second-generation Tephrans whose parents sought refuge after the recent war and settled here have known the smell all our lives; it was indeed a common source of complaint from foreigners unfamiliar with the environment, citing a similarity to rancid eggs. Vaum doesn't seem to be pleased by my response. 

"The colors are even more beautiful in person. I've never seen such vivid shades of yellow," Casek remarks as he sweeps his ashen hair back. "I can't imagine it's safe to live so close to all the fumes, though." He points towards the plume of hazy vapors produced by the nearest caldera.

"In certain places, the concentration of hydrogen sulfide produced by especially hotter springs can indeed be fatal. In such cases a ventilating mask would be required for farmers." I swiftly pivot away from the grim subject. "On the other hand, the smaller, cooler ones are used as public bathing sites and have been a popular method of balneotherapy for ailments such as chronic arthritis and dermatitis for countless generations. Many cherish them closely, myself included."

"That does sound nice," Casek sighs. "Hot springs in your backyard, huh?"

I continue, "Sulfur export is our lifeblood. Were the planet's environment or ecosystem altered, production of the mineral would decline dramatically. Many locals consider it to be sacred." I look back towards Vaum as I speak, hoping he would interpret my words.

"That won't be an issue. We don't intend to continue those exports, our clients' and therefore our priorities lie with the underground Tritium deposits."

"I see." I quickly move on. "Well, let me at least bring you to the nearest settlement. I'm sure you're interested in seeing how the natives here live."

"Look, I don't think we can spare the--"

"Is that where the rumbling is coming from?" Casek remarks abruptly, now noticing the ring of a distant resonance and subtle matching vibrations in the ground. 

"I'll show you."

After a short few minutes of hiking we arrive at the village of Chalice, one of the many small border towns whose yield feeds the Master Port-- the city-jetty where the large majority of raw mineral sulfur export took place. Chalice itself is located on the outer southeastern lip of the second-largest caldera on Tephra, Cisterna Minor. An entire culture has risen under the grueling labor and unpredictable danger of sulfur farming, learning to work together as a single apolitical unit in order to maximize the efficiency of required labor and economic growth. Like most border towns, many who grow up there become farmers or miners later in life, working days and nights tirelessly in order to scrape together the largest, most impressive pile of ore. In the case of sulfur farming, it could be done either via traditional methods of underground mining, or by venturing into calderas and low-lying deposits to suction-filter dense concentrations of the mineral up from the water. The threat there is invisible, but very real; without a properly secured ventilating mask, one could perish in mere seconds from the intake of hydrogen sulfide. 

We're immediately greeted by the indigenous olive-skinned locals as we step into the village, all speaking in their native tongue. Vaum and Casek exchange baffled looks as I respond-- the vocalisms were incomprehensible to most, understandable considering the multi-generational off-grid nature of Cistern's galactic presence. Not to mention that the known galaxy was already full of worlds which had developed their own unique dialects and variations of pre-existing languages. As we continue wandering through the town I'm reminded of the unique native architecture of Tephran buildings and above-ground conduit structures, which interconnect the entire settlement through a system of intricate lead pipes. Most huts, constructed from feldspar and mortar, integrate sulfuric compounds in their straw rooftops in order to ward off avian pests and parasitic insects, forming a swath of amber-colored canopies across the skyline. 

"So what's causing that trembling in the ground? I can feel it getting stronger," Casek comments, absorbed by his surroundings.   

"We're about to reach it now," I reply as we reach the crest of the hill, stepping aside to let them pass first. Ahead of us lies a vast, encompassing field of pluming fissures and depressions, combining to form a massive cloud of hazy acidic smoke over the horizon. Beside most of them is a filter-pump to extract the minerals from the superheated water, a time-consuming process considering the damage done to the equipment by the extreme acidity and temperatures. Their collective siphoning and loud mechanical resonance caused noticeably strong tremors in the surrounding area alongside a persistent whining buzz, issues the townspeople were simply forced to put up with. 

I rejoin the two at the top of the hill. "This is where the large majority of Chalice's sulfur farming takes place. Some larger calderas require human hands to navigate, but whenever we can we use these filter-pumps to extract the minerals without the added labor and risk. It's common practice across most production towns on the planet, as long as they have access to the supply lines that provide the equipment." 

Vaum gives a stifled nod as he listens, while Casek prepares another question. "Are sulfur and sulfide compounds the only valuable elements that are gathered here?"

"Apt question. They come in the most supply and thus the most demand. But we also export other minerals, such as rare-earth elements like Alkaline ore and precious stones." As I say this, I notice the pattering of footsteps behind us. I turn to see a small curious child from the village drawing near, who has separated from his waiting parents at the base of the hill to approach us. Around his nape is a scaled opaline four-foot, a long native reptile species resembling a lizard-snake commonly kept as pets by the locals. When Vaum notices, the child comes closer and presents something in his outstretched hands to him; a large, malformed chunk of raw sulfur that gleams bright yellow in the emerging sunlight. 

"Ah..." He looks over to me, seemingly unsure how to react. After a moment's deliberation he hesitantly accepts the gift. "...Thanks." The child then wordlessly spins on his heel to rush back to his parents, eager looks on their faces. We watch as they each take a hand and stroll away, casting a final glance back. Then Vaum turns to me. "What is this?"

"It's tephra-- material ejected by a volcanic eruption, our namesake. By the looks of it it's a particularly fine shard of raw sulfur too. A rare find." 

"How can you tell it's ejected from a volcano?" Casek inquires, staring at the chunk with wonder.

"By its malformations," I point out the misshapen round edges and pores. "Raw sulfur mined from the ground has a crystalline lattice structure with flat faces and sharp edges." Vaum doesn't seem to know what to do with the gift, still holding it up in his raised palm. "Tephra helps the soil become fertilized for crop growth. But because of the rising geothermal activity in the region, soon the nearby volcanoes will overwhelm the area with pyroclastic material, erasing all fauna and encasing everything else in a layer of frozen magma." I pause to sigh. "Here, it's simply the circle of life."

Casek appears troubled, but stays silent. Vaum tightens his grip around the chunk decisively, slipping it into his coat-pocket. "Yes, certainly it would be a common occurrence on a planet with such great geothermal energy. That's what makes it so valuable for ore-mining, after all." He looks at me with the first genuine smile I've seen him produce-- a smile that told me nothing I could say or show him was going to change his mind. 

On the VOB heading back into orbit, Vaum excuses himself to take a call in the back cabin. As I direct the craft in vertical takeoff and set it to autopilot to handle the orbital maneuvers, I notice Casek approaching me with a conflicted look. I hesitate to initiate the conversation, as he stays silent for a moment in close proximity.

"Ms. Dobrick, I wanted to ask you a personal question, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Casek."

"What does Tephra mean to you? Personally?" For the brief second that I'm surprised by the question, I nearly answer it with complete honesty.

"I'm sorry, I can't say under legal clause. It would break my impartiality agreement." He looks away, disappointed. "How old are you, Casek?" I ask on a whim.

"Eighteen. It's the first time my father has brought me along on one of his business ventures. Though I can't say he does this a lot, it's the one of the only times I've been aware of him actually visiting a planet he was interested in purchasing." I smile lightly to myself, wondering with a small glimmer of hope if I actually did make an impact. "Look, I know my father can be a bit hard to place sometimes. When it comes to certain things, there's no way to change his mind, with others he's willing to change it even if you don't want him to. It's something that's served him well in his pursuits. But to be honest with you, that's not how I want to be. I want to follow my heart and openly fight for the things I care about, even if it doesn't always benefit me." He goes into his pocket, retrieving something in his palm.

"And what do you care about?" I ask.

He shows me what's in his hand; a small, ash-coated rock with hints of unmistakable yellow streaks. "Life. Humanity. Nature and all its wonderful creations, no matter what world they're a part of." He rubs off some of the ash, revealing an imperfect crystal of sulfur. "I found this on the ground while we were heading back, but I know it means much more to me than it does to my father. And I want you to know that I'll always remember Tephra and Chalice for their amazingly unique people, culture and honest, hard work. Not everyone in the galaxy can be as lucky as us, I realize that now." When I don't reply, he continues. "Even if the Vaum Corpus purchases Tephra, I'll try my best to avoid the same mistakes my father made. You have my word."

Before I know it I'm sitting in the Embassy of Worldly Affairs, seated among a crowded auditorium of corporate attorneys, spectators, and members of the Tephran Board of World Representatives stationed at the front podium. Edde Vaum is settled before them, going through the standard procedures of stating intent, budget management, and sociopolitical restructuring. But I'm unable to pay attention to any of the words being spoken, for my mind is elsewhere; it's back on Tephra, watching as its soil and sediment is ripped up from the ground by Vaum's fleet of heavy excavators as the sky darkens behind them. And I can't blame anyone but myself for it all. Then I think back on all the opportunities I had to change my mind, back out and say no; Boa's plead to protect the world and all its forms of life, and Casek's pledge to change the Vaum Corpus for the better. The virgin generation's optimism that I found myself unable to fall in line with, like my time had already passed. Maybe it was okay to place my faith in them to change the cold bureaucracy that dominated our lives. Maybe their decisions were enough to really make a difference. 

As Vaum's staff projects a manifest list of all their annexed industry worlds, scrolling through a seemingly endless list of planets all with their own specifications, statistics and economic metrics, I start to experience a strange sense of ego death. What was the difference between the backwater world I was born on and all the ones that had already been bought? What made my perspective more unique and important than all the others that have already existed? In a galaxy full of limitless worlds, it seemed so vain in hindsight. Or maybe I had just finally chosen a side. Maybe there was still hope for humanity to love and care for the worlds it inhabits enough to reject the pre-established norms and illusions of grandeur. For me, it was already too late. I look over at the members of the Board of World Representatives, catching a knowing glance from Boa who sits with a beaten, yet determined expression. We share our quiet sentiments as Mr. Vaum officially finalizes the deal with his signature.