The Nihilist Party Read online

  There were many more different kinds of unique procedures used to extract blood from the Sapthians body that Aris tried to rid his mind of. But these images were to be permanently engraved in his conscious, and along with these thoughts came the screams and gnashing of teeth that would forever follow him.

  When Aris discovered the Sapthian forms on Crimson, he knew that the Damurians and the elite, corrupt leaders, of the Galactic Council, would try to display that the Humans of Earth and the Sapthians of Crimson were different species. And the two species didn’t share the same biological make or DNA. Hence, they were, therefore, a different species. He needed to present his findings to the citizens of Earth, so they knew that their leaders were corrupt. For this, he required physical evidence, so as an independent Journalist, he came to Crimson to try and take a Sapthian from the planet. But the plan of Aris was foiled somehow, and the Damurian elites found out about the Journalist on their planet. But with the help of Activist members—an anti-government group of Damurian citizens on Crimson—Aris was able to hide amongst the Sapthians.

  More slop was poured inside the fence that the Sapthians were confined in. And again, Aris ran over to gain a proper positioning to act like he was feeding. This was so he couldn’t be seen as not eating the slop. Aris dug his hands into the slop and attempted to take a fake bite, and before he could chew, he felt a hand ring around his neck, and it flung him back from the slop. Aris landed on his back and instinctively got back up. Without thinking, he went again to fight for positioning within the herd. Aris was so overcome with rage. He forgot how much stronger the Sapthians were than he was. The technology-based lives of humans on Earth had weakened the human species physically.

  So, needless to say, Aris was dismantled, and the Sapthian threw Aris back on the ground and stood over him. Aris thought the Sapthian was going to kill him, but the crack of the whip was heard. And the Sapthians scattered in the corner of the yard while Aris laid there on the ground.

  Having his language decoder implanted within his earlobe years ago, Aris was able to understand the Damurian that stood over him. The Damurian farmworker picked up Aris by the head, with one hand, and said, “Your much too light. I hope your not sick. We already have a shortage of you Saps on this planet.” The farmworker smelled his body from head to toe. “I don’t smell any diseases.”

  The farmworker threw Aris with the rest of the herd.

  Aris wondered why the Damurian was talking out loud as if Aris understood him. But he realized humans on Earth did this with their animals as well.

  Aris searched for meaning for his life to help him overcome this situation. Aris was taught by the Nihilist Party that there was no meaning to life. And at this moment, life had never seemed so meaningless and without value to Aris. The Nihilist Party taught that life was pointless, but one shouldn’t be depressed by this. Instead, they should embrace the meaninglessness of life. They believed giving meaning to life was used against us, to control us. Once the meaninglessness of life was fully embraced, it could be used to overcome one’s fears. With this fearlessness, a Nihilist Party member should fight to bring the truth to light, exposing the corrupt. Aris thought he embraced the meaninglessness of life, and he was fearless, but for some reason, fear was conquering his mind, and he couldn’t get it out.

  Chapter 5

  The Ambassador walked into the office of the Damurian leader, Dorian Murafo. He was the leader of the entire planet of Crimson.

  His office was the size of a ballroom, the floor was a glowing dark, red as if one was walking on a sea of blood, and the ceiling was so high that it was hard to see where it ended. It looked like an endless red sky into the Crimson heaven. The office made the Ambassador seem shorter than he already was.

  “My leader.” The Ambassador bowed.

  “Ambassador,” Dorian said. Dorian examined the Ambassador as if he tried to foresee what news he was about to bring. Dorian leaned back in his large bronze chair. “What news do you have for me?”

  The Ambassador shuffled his breath and jerked his head to try and calm himself. “Well, my leader, the Journalist, has arrived. She is inspecting the planet, for the other Journalist.” Dorian furrowed his brows and sat upright. The Ambassador took a deep breath and continued. “I told her there was no other journalist or other members of her species on this planet.”

  Dorian leaned back and rubbed a smooth skull that sat on his desk. He always kept a Sapthian skull nearby to rub for good luck. The skull looked metallic, but as Dorian tapped on it with his long fingernails, it confirmed the skull was not metallic and was indeed an actual Sapthian skull. Dorian then stroked his golden horned chin as he took off the top of the skull and drunk the thick red liquid that was inside of it.

  “Do we have any word on this missing Journalist?”

  “On Guhl Island. Some of our elites had him, and we believe the Activists helped the Journalist getaway.”

  Dorian slammed his cup on his Sapthian boned desk, and the thick liquid shot out of the skull, like an explosion. Immediately servants rushed out from a side door and cleaned up the blood that was everywhere, including the blood on their leader. “Those damn Activists! They keep on coming out of the shadows. I want them all dead! Burned from inside out!” Dorian pointed at the Ambassador as if he was one of the Activist. “That Journalist better not find out about our Activists infestation!”

  “Of course, my leader.” The Ambassador said, horrified.

  “If the missing Journalist is not on the island, then he has to be dead. It couldn’t have left the planet. The Activists are almost extinct, and they do not have the resources to smuggle the Journalist off of the planet. But we must find the body and dispose of it.” Dorian rubbed his sharp golden horned chin. “We have no choice but to show her what she wants, but keep her away from any possible Activists. Every farm factory is to be intensively screened. The GC is on our side, we have something they want, and they have something we need. You are responsible for the Journalist Ambassador. If all is well, you will be rewarded, but if we have any problems with this Journalist, you will suffer severely. And that comes from Damai.”

  “Yes my leader, I won’t let you-”

  “Those bloody Activists want to see this planet destroyed! And ramp up the propaganda on our citizens and tell our Activist Interrogation officers to increase their accusation output. Those Sap lovers will not be the destruction of this planet.”

  The Ambassador just stood there because he didn’t know if his supreme leader was finished speaking.

  Dorian quickly flicked his wrist at the Ambassador.

  “Will do my leader. Oh, how god Damai rules through you.” The Ambassador bowed and about-faced and left Dorian’s office.

  Chapter 6

  “Bolt, I know I’m just here to find Aris, but I’m having trouble discovering how a planet like this is being considered into the Galactic Council. Their religion is archaic, and the government is too authoritarian to last more than a decade. And this is just from a first glance, no telling what we will find if we dig deeper.” Quora said to a holographic image of Boltpher Orien, the Galactic famous and most successful gold hunter. She pressed a finger on her temple. Both were sitting down and starring at each other with deep concern as if they were actually face-to-face. “A Journalist from each Criterion came to this planet to investigate it, and somehow it is still being accepted. Something is not right. How could they not see the flaws on this planet?”

  “Check their basic minerals, you remember Earth was allowed into the Galactic Council for something as simple as their soil.” Bolt said.

  “Yea, but Earth didn’t rule under an ancient caste system. And Earth had a vibrant sun, Crimson has a dying one.”

  “But Earth did have a fascist, as a ruler.”

  “And do you know how much resistance Earth faced when trying to get into the Council? This planet would not have been allowed into the GC if it was under the same scrutiny our planet had to go through.” Quora sharply said.r />
  “I’m just playing devils advocate.”

  “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I’m just going through the documents on the Damurians, the little that there is, and I can’t find what exactly Aris was investigating on this planet. In essence, this planet is a blatant kleptocracy. But what did he see to make him come here?”

  “You don’t think the corruption was enough?”

  “Of course not. There are small levels of corruption within most of the planets within the GC. The corruption on Crimson is indeed less refined and more obvious than ours. Still, corruption is corruption, I don’t see it prompting a seasoned Journalist to investigate an unknown planet.”

  “How big is their population?”

  “They only have a population of a little over three million,” Quora said.

  “Could it be that? What if he saw their low population numbers and discovered that they want to leech off of the GC to stop their species from dying off. To be let into the GC on this alone is illegal.” Bolt said.

  “But there have been planets let into the GC with fewer population numbers. He would have to prove they have nothing to contribute to the GC, which could be hard. Aris wouldn’t risk his life on that information alone. It was something else. I know it.”

  Bolt placed his hand on his chin, and Quora did the same. They both thought about the reasoning.

  “I knew Aris was going off the deep end, but what could drive him to investigate a foreign planet?” Bolt wondered. “I know he is in this radical Nihilist Party group, but he should have used more precaution. Maybe he should have had a team. He could have come to me.”

  Quora scoffed and rolled her eyes.

  “It is the Galactic Law— the Council cannot hinder or halt any investigation requested by a Journalist. But the Council does have to be informed and notified about the investigation in question. This is for protection from situations like this. If Aris had contacted you, you could have helped him launch an investigation, and everything would have been documented. And a planet like this wouldn’t dare think of harming him and committing such a crime against the Galactic Council.” Bolt stated.

  “What if he didn’t want the GC to know? Out of fear that they would cover it before the investigation started. He tried to surprise them, catch them off guard.” Quora focused on the holographic notes that were connected to the emergency ping of Aris. “And these notes that were attached to his emergency ping are way too detailed as the previous investigations I worked with him on. This is not how Aris takes notes.” Quora paused and thought about what could have possibly been going through the mind of Aris when he was taking these notes. “Maybe, he knew the GC could possibly find his notes, so he gave way more information than he usually would, to code them.”

  Bolt leaned back in his chair, and his hand faintly rubbed his head. It was hard for Bolt to be such a pessimist regarding the Galactic Council. Because as a gold hunter, they treat him differently than they would treat a defiant Journalist. They would give Bolt whatever he asked for. It was always tricky for the fortunate ones to picture how life would be if the powers that be turned against them.

  Quora glanced up at Bolt and saw him looking at her with a look he used to give her when they were in the University together before she married Aris. She was never interested in Bolt in a romantic way, but she enjoyed his friendship. And even though Bolt was more successful than the Bolt, she went to University with, he was still the same old Bolt to Quora. She averted her eyes back to the notes of Aris.

  “Looks like you have your work cut out for you.” Bolt said and looked at her bewildered. “You Journalists have a special mind. To observe and scrutinize every little detail of Criterion matters. I must admit that it is too much for my mind. I would rather stick to the numbers and pinpoint one thing and chase it… that’s why I’m the most successful gold hunter. You Universal Journalists are crazy pessimist, taking notes and applying cynical, speculative theories on every little matter you come in contact with. This cannot be good for one’s mind.”

  Quora’s eyes widened. “Bolt, you are a genius. That’s it. Journalists have to search and record every little thing, so to find what Aris was searching for, I have to search for what isn’t in his notes… Thank you Bolt, I must go now.”

  Bolt’s eyes buckled in confusion. “I’m glad I could help.” He slowly said. “I have some of the most powerful satellites in the galaxy, so you can message me any time Quora.”

  “I appreciate it, Bolt,” Quora said, and she turned off her holographic messenger, and Bolt disappeared out of her room.

  She began to intensely cull through the notes of Aris.

  Chapter 7

  Every morning started the same for Aris. The farm-workers would let the Sapthians out to graze, and later a farm-worker would come and check on the Sapthians every couple hours. This was to try and make the Sapthians feel as comfortable as possible. An attempt to extend their lives. Because the Sapthians' lives were decreasing at an alarming rate, according to what Aris had overheard.

  Aris watched every movement the Damurian workers made and listened to everything they said, with the hope of hearing something about a Journalist from Earth inspecting their planet. But so far, he had heard nothing. Patience, staying calm, and not bringing attention to one's self was the name of the game for Aris, but in his life, this game was not something Aris was used to.

  All for truth, Aris thought. Was it worth it? He asked himself. NO. If the Universe operated on truth and justice like the Nihilist Party taught us, then why do we have to fight for it, and bring truth and justice to the light? It should be present for us, like the sun on a cloudless day. Life shouldn’t be like this. One should not have to dive into a dangerous haystack of lies and corruption to find the needle of truth. Chaos and lies were what built the Universe and what keeps it going. Why did I think I could ever stop such a force, Aris reflected. The truth will always reveal its self, Bratlik once told me. What a lie. They were all lies. This will be another truth not found, and the Universe will do nothing to reveal this corruption… and I will be killed in the process.

  What is Truth anyway? Truth is like the lightbulb to a moth, slowly luring its victims to their death. It is just an illusion. The light goes out, and darkness is still there in abundance. Darkness is chaos. Corruption, lies, and dishonesty thrive inside of chaos, and chaos is the real Truth. The corrupt beings of the Universe believe their lies are Truth. Truth is really just power. Whoever has the most power gets to determine what Truth is.

  No, it can’t be. Am I going mad? I will fix this. I must expose this corruption, even if I have to go against the powerful. I always knew this, and this is why I joined the Nihilist Party.

  “Ah! Look at this one.” The farm-workers walked over near Aris. Aris didn’t know if they were talking about him or a Sapthian near him. So he tried to act as Sapthian-like as possible, hoping they were talking about the other Sapthians next to him. Aris began to defecate himself, but to his surprise, the feces was like water. He didn’t know if it had been like this for days, or if this was the first time his feces was runny like water. Aris had not paid attention to such matters. His mind was occupied with trying to survive.

  One of the farm-workers walked closer to Aris, and now he knew that the farm-workers were looking at him. The worker touched his finger in the stool of Aris and smelled it. "Taste weird." The farm-worker said. Aris tried to control himself from panicking too much, but his fear was too intense, so he decided to run, but he was too slow. The farm-worker was too fast, and he plucked Aris by the back of the neck like one would do a small dog.

  “You haven’t been eating enough slop. You’re too skinny.” The farmer said. “You’re coming with me.” The farm-worker began to drag Aris to the building next to the barn. The building that Aris saw the Sapthians leaving with scars on their stomachs. Aris kicked and attempted to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. The fear was overwhelming. He knew his worse fear was about to take place; he
knew whatever was next, it was going to be torturing, and it wouldn’t be a quick process. “We have something for you, skinny Saps.” Aris was dragged on the floor while the farm-worker clung onto the back of his neck. “There’s a penalty to pay for going against the order of things. When its time to eat, you eat. You’re a Sap, you’re supposed to eat what we give you. To keep that good blood of yours circulating.”

  Aris began to have a panic attack as he struggled to breathe.

  They entered the building, and the farm-worker threw Aris into a gestation crate. Aris tried to escape the metal cage, but with every twist and turn, he would cut his skin. The farmer grabbed a nearby stick and pocked Aris, hard, in the back. “Stop moving, little Sap.” The farmer pushed the crate tight and locked it so Aris would keep still. Aris back was facing the farm-worker so he could not tell what he was doing, but Aris knew death was near.

  Tears began to roll down the face of Aris, and snot poured out of his nose as he prepared for death. “Universe, any god that is out there, pl, please help me,” Aris whispered to himself in a terrifying quivering voice without the Damurian hearing him. He wanted to yell to the farm-worker, but he felt his death would be even crueler if they found out he was not a Sapthian.

  “This was your fault. This had to happen for not going with the order of things, little Sap.” The farmer said. “We have an important inspection coming at any time now, and you all have to look healthy. I know you, Saps don't like this.”

  Aris closed his eyes as tight as he could. To brace himself for what was about to come.

  The farmer quickly grabbed Aris by the front of the throat, holding his chin in the air, and he pressed a button near the crate. A metal apparatus came forward, keeping the face of Aris towards the ceiling, and another device came down, which held his mouth open. The farmer then shoved a clear tube down the throat of Aris. The farmer pushed a button, and a thick brownish liquid went flowing through the tube and into the mouth of Aris. Aris tried to scream in pain, but it was impossible with the hose so deep down his throat. Aris felt the thick liquid being pumped to his stomach.