"46 thousand people?" Marek closed his eyes. The chair twitched as he shook his head. "46 thousand? To save a few ships?" He opened his eyes. Contempt rumpled his lips as he looked at the silent Eye. "A few Al-liance credits?" He spit the last words, as his voice rose in intensity. "How is THAT the right decision?"
The Eye hovered watching him. Shadows slid across the planet's face in an amorphous display of emotion before coalescing into concrete shapes. Gargoyle's voice and Marek's eyes read in tandem: "154,045". Gargoyle cleared his voice with a cough, sending ripples across the planet's surface, dissipating the numbers back into fragmented shadows.
"154,045 credits to be precise." Marek held his tongue, but glared in the planet's direction. "3.338571 credits per person." The shadows dripped into a sneer. "Do you really think one person," the planet smiled its amusement, "is worth even a fraction of that?"
'Buffoon!' A voice hissed from behind him. Marek clenched his fists, biting back his anger.
Gargoyle continued. "This planet. Prime. This entire planet produces less than 7000 credits per day!"
As Gargoyle spoke, the surface of the grey planet shuddered and warped, transforming into a silver and light-edged sphere. Twin sharp lines tracked across its lower surface, with heavy pores pocking its lower lips. Pools of azure glimmered between the continents, separating the industrial Sudders from the economic and political hub of the planet in the north.
The Eye itself hovered over the heart of the planet: Ashur, the capital. "It would take 7,148,392 people a lifetime to produce 154,045 credits." Gargoyle's shadowy smirk spread across the southern continent. Lights flashed in the space beside the Eye - the planet. Marek's eyes were drawn into the midst of a fleet of recycling ships, used in reclamation of space debris. As he watched, they converged on the planet, and dropped into the atmosphere. He could see it. Ashur. From on high. The leviathan monument was below, surrounded by thousands of tiny swarming creatures. And a sucking noise grew around him. Marek drew in his breath to the sound. And people began to fly. First a few. And then thousands. They were sucking them up, screaming and writhing past his eyes! Marek yelled, "Stop!" Gargoyle's cackle exploded in his ears. Silver numbers rose before his eyes, slowly counting up. 5,495. "Kigal! You lunatic! STOP!"
Gargoyle's laugh halted with a cough. "Manners, Marek." The screams continued and a low whirring grew in his ears, vibrating and pressing through his cheeks. 15,116. He opened his mouth to shout and felt something cold rush across his lips and press into his mouth. His jaw locked in place. Marek threw his hands up to his mouth. It was blocked. By something cold and smooth. The helmet! His hands frantically explored his cheeks. It was everywhere. Covering him. I can't breath! His panicked voice struggled vainly against the metal wall, squeezing out a muffled yell. In front of his eyes the bodies continued to fly and the number continued to grow. 86,018. His lungs were burning. A whisper of a breeze pressed past his nose. My nose! Air rasped past his nostrils, the sucking noise joining the recyclers. 104,871. Gargoyle's voice echoed in his ears. "Manners."
"154,045," Gargoyle continued. "And you would trade that for..." He paused, as the numbers continued to climb, fueled by the Primer bodies. 137,457. "46 thousand people?" Marek blinked. His speech. It's my voice! He's stolen my voice! Gargoyle continued in Marek's agonized voice. "46 thousand?". 145,833.
'Fool!' The voice whispered in Marek's ear. The sucking noise halted. The last body rushed past him. 154,045.
Marek's eyes returned to the room. Gargoyle stood in his grey uniform, to the right of the planet. The number hovered in space next to him, above the planet. The recyclers were gone. "People? Worthless." Gargoyle cackled his disdain, in Marek's voice no longer. He flicked his fingers at the numbers, which exploded into silver sparks. Marek's muffled groan leaked out of the helmet.
