A serial writer’s notebook ~ from the pen behind Lore of the Underlings, an episodic epic…
Here’s another enigmatic dispatch from the land of the Lore, this time set in a World War II context. Sad to say, the oppression and inhumanity ridiculed in this farce are recurring themes, even in our own day. In fact and in fiction, we must not forget.
God bless the defenders of freedom. We would be silent without you.
Now here’s that passage from the Lore‘s upcoming Episode 8, “The Trial”:
Fyryx approached the stand extending his hand. “Herr Yin! Your papers please!”
Engyn’s knees wobbled. His wife Hoona sobbed. “We don’t want no trouble your honor,” he said and glared at his prodigal son.
Treygyn cast his brown eyes down to the ground. He could not bear the stare.
“Papers Herr Yin. I won’t ask again.”
Hoona frantically pawed through her worn old sow’s ear purse. She shook like a leaf. To her relief, she found the dog-eared green card she was looking for. “H-h-here d-d-dear…” The paper was warped and stained with tears.
Her husband took the card and squeezed her hand. Then Engyn surrendered it.
“We’re just simple oilers, commissar. Instigators and traitors we ain’t.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” spat Fyryx.
The grand inquisitor scrutinized the tiny document. He turned it over.
Then he studied the Yins themselves.
They were plain folk to be sure. Tattered. On the dirty side. And short — descendants of Guur-syr or some other sector of the south.
Their skin though was the envy of many, rich and tanned as the land itself.
“Businessman are you?”
“With two sons?”
“Where’s the other one?”
Engyn pointed an oily mitt at a boy on the far side of the tent. The jittery kid was the spitting image of Treygyn, but in miniature.
“Trogyn. Please sir — he’s eleven.”
“Tro is innocent! Leave him out of it!” Brother Trey wailed. He looked up and upset. “Mini me’s just a twerp, your worship.”
Fyryx ripped the card to shreds.
“Everything seems to be in order here mein Herr…”
Bits hit the floor.
“But you’ve still got some ‘splainin’ to do.”
Engyn and Hoona knew what was coming.
“How is it that you Yins were ever permitted to parent? Or licensed to spawn?”
Neither one dared to answer him.
“It’s time we had a law, a test, to weed the bad seed out. You mutants…
“If I were master of this race…”
Engyn mustered the guts to interrupt and mount a brief defense. A little resistance. His finest minute.
“Overlord, we’ve done our best with the lads.”
“Not good enough by half…”
[Photo by John K ~ Overlord]