The Messenger reacts to the sudden flurry of questions by picking and choosing; answering only a select few from the dozens being shouted at him all at once.
How munerous are the rebellious populace.
Is there any organized religion beyond that which you yourselves worship.
How old is the Radiant One.
What are the weapons the guards are carrying.
Are you afraid.
"The Heretical number in the several thousand, at least around the palace. World wide they number in the several million. They have already begun laying siege to The Radiant one's temples and government buildings, as well as the homes of his disciples and leaders. We believe they will begin their attacks here soon enough. The Outer temple guards shall be armed with what is traditional; Tull Glaives and firearms. The inner, those you see here, are armed with their blades and other hidden weapons. The Holy Guard; those assigned to The Radiant one and his chambers, are much more heavily armed, but with what I cannot tell you. Besides this, there are a few men from your United Worlds, Other soldiers who heeded our call."
Feyri turned back to look everyone in the eye, bemused by their sudden vote and expression before looking back at the messenger.
"I'll only ask a few, sir. But I've to ask you to excuse any ornery presentations of my colleagues. It's usually how it is when entering a new environment. Disorientation and adaptation. You'd understand.
"Firstly, we've heard about your castes and colors. How is rank and hierarchy taken in your society, if I would ask? By dresscode, color or can you sense how and who everyone else is even without ceremonial garb?
"Secondly, why can we not know how to address the Radiant One ahead of time. For formalities sake. Where we come from, it is best to know about what is to come ahead of time, as that would lead to respect.
"Thirdly, I'd...well. I'd like to get to know your customs more if we are to defend this place, and its God, more appropriately."
Ask and let ask.
"Within the palace, Those of higher ranks wear more brightly colored clothing. Those in oranges and yellows will be of the upper ranks, those in red and purple, like myself, are of the clerical ranks. Guards, such as yourselves, will be dressed in black and silver. Beyond that, it should not matter."
"Even knowing the proper customs to greet the Radiant one is a mark of distinction above your standing."
(("Skinless sexbot?" Oh god, tell me that's someone other than me.))
"What is the significance of being dressed in orange or red, other than 'higher status?'
Otherwise no."
Status question.
Well, we already have one sexualized albino.
"It represents how close to the radiant one you are. Those of yellow and orange are closest to his white, earthly beings of near divinity that exist to praise and serve his divinity. They are avatars of his aspects, rulers of war, prosperity, knowledge and all things great to mankind. Purple and red are those in service to the Yellow and Orange, servants of the aspects and footsoldiers of his grace. And those in Black and Silver are those the faithful, protectors of their highers."
"I have a few questions myself, of the utmost importance.
What sort of food and beverages await for us while in your palace?
What type of weaponry do the conventional palace guards carry?
What group would we fit into by the standards of your social caste?
Are your people all male?
What sort of animals do you have?
How are we supposed to bathe?
What are your toilets like?
What sort of music do you guys listen to?
Do you guys have orgies in the palace?"
He completely ignores May. In fact he seems to not want to even look in her direction. Probably partially because many of her questions were answered already. Also probably because she's still naked and squeezing her tits in his direction.
The messenger in red watches with marked restraint as the naked albino argues with what appears to be a skinless sexbot about who is in charge, who is insane and what exactly is going on. The most expression he shows is a slight tilt of the head when, amongst much screaming and jabbering from everyone on the shuttle, the conversation becomes an argument of which is better, sodomy or cannibalism. And then people being declaring that some woman named Feyri is their leader. He seems very bemused by all this.
((You left out the little kid asking what sodomy was.))
(("Skinless sexbot?" Oh god, tell me that's someone other than me.))
((May?))
"Miss Feyri, what's an or-gee and why does May want to know about them? Mister Messenger Person, what's your name? What's the Radiant One's name? Are there priests? Are the priests nice or evil or crazy? Are there lots of people? Can I see the people? Is there a museum? Is it a free museum? Can I got to the museum? Are there other kids where we're going? Can I talk to Mister Jim? Is there a computer? Is there a bunch of scrap and stuff around? What are we doing again? Do we have to hurt people? I don't wanna hurt people. Can I have a cookie? Steve never gave me a cookie. Do you know Steve? He's a spaceship. He's nice, at least compared to a lot of the people on the Damocle's Sword.. Is this place going to be like that?"
He looks in your direction as you spew questions but apparently decides they're not worth answering. He's probably not gonna give you a cookie either. This fills your tiny child mind with confusion and sadness.
"Don't worry Grate, May's asking for precautions. She is, afterall, a trained diplomat."
Feyri said this enough that the man would also hear it. She had a feeling that May may not perform that well unless she was happy with her job...before continuing her talk with the messenger.
"That's Grate by the way, one of our younger members. Quite intelligent and curious. A good lad."
May's asking for precautions. She is, afterall, a trained diplomat
May
a trained diplomat
The End is nigh.
"I have two, no, three questions, really, if you don't mind. Firstly, milord, are we given free roam of the city or are we strictly on guard duty? Secondly, how advanced is the level of electronic communication on this planet, and what means of surveillance do you enact on the public?"
Ask further. Get shown to guard quarters.
"You have free reign of the outer palace when not on duty. The inner palace and holy vestibules are not, under any circumstances short of the highest emergency, to be entered. It is recommended that you stay within the palace, for your own safety, however, if you wish to walk the streets it is your right. Our electronic systems are on par with your own, though perhaps not as numerous. You are no doubt still in contact with your ship and each other. Your suits give you such capacities, I believe. And our surveillance is not something you should concern yourself with. It is, I am afraid, beyond the sphere of your activities here. "
"If that is all, I shall show you to your quarters." The messenger says, stepping back and sending the masked men scattering off.
Outside the shuttle it is even hotter and more humid; a tropical haze of late morning mists and the early heat of the day. The team snaps their helmets on, thankful the the climate control inside, and follows the Messenger. The palace, or what they can see of it, is a grand and multi-tiered thing; Layers of ancient and ornate fortifications that rise as one proceeds farther in, so that the central palace building is visible from all sides and everywhere around it. The central building is quite large, about 40 meters tall with much of it's height being comprised of a rounded spire. The spire is strange; not solid stone but rather layers of stone held by layers of tiny columns; like a tiny parthenons stacked atop one another. It creates a strange, tiered, birdcage like effect and no, in the morning as the sun hangs behind the palace, it seems almost to be trapped within that cage; the sun itself held within the tower of the Godking.
Around that grand central tower are dozens of other buildings, tall pointed roofs with repeating, tiered designs, but more solid then the center building. A stone wall topped with a strange roof that repeatedly arcs upward and forms sharp points, like sea waves trapped in wood and tile. Outside The holy ground is an inner palace populated with stone buildings that resemble asparagus tips; bulbous tops connected to thinner stalks and surrounded and joined with lower, long wooden buildings that crisscross between the bulbbed towers with no discernible pattern. The team is on the outermost level, a slightly slanted village of multileveled stone buildings with dark wood roofs and snaking stone pathways through tall grass and scattered, ancient statues that seem to be relics of something even older then the buildings around them. The entire palace area is color coded, with the holy center being painted entirely white, the inner circle being a wide variety of oranges and yellows with streaks of purple and red. The outer most layer is a sea of blacks and grays and silvers, fading and clearly old and much less cared for then the inner layers.
Beyond the palace lies a thin strip of green- the unpopulated land on the side of the hill that the palace sits upon, and then a sea of brown and gray. Brown homes, brown roads, gray smoke from chimneys and gray water in a large stream that cuts through the town. For this distance it looks like a township made of mud and cloudy water; a puddle of humanity spreading out beneath this grand rainbow palace.
The messenger leads the team across the smooth stone paths to a large, three story building. Through a sunstreaked common room and up a thin wooden stairway to the third story. The entire third story is open; a long house sort of thing with windows and support beams studded down its length. Beds, more like large cushions, are scattered about seemingly randomly, along with wicker chairs, a water pipe taller then grate, and several young women wearing loose fitting silk plants and not much else.
"These will be your accommodations for your stay. These girls shall see to your needs, whatever they may be. Your uniforms are in the chest over there. We have sized them so that you should be able to wear them over your suits. Report to the common at noon and I shall explain the terms of your service."