The Perfect Enemy
— If this tower is destroyed, the world will know the truth! — He looked firmly at his interlocutor.
Atris looked at the alien minion, handsome, strong at the nondescript, frail commentator 142.
— You still don’t understand, — commentator 142 sighed, — if the tower is destroyed, nothing will change. It only brings beautiful dreams. It does not hypnotize, it does not suppress, it only soothes. It gives people to get up in the morning with hope.
— Oh, yes, — Atris interrupted caustically, — with the hope of what? That they won’t feed the alien invaders?
— That’s not a bad hope,- commentator 142 grunted, — huh? Nothing worse than the hope that they won’t starve to death, lose their jobs, get so sick that they lose their jobs and starve to death. The truth they learn won’t change anything. They are still slaves. With or without aliens. I’m telling you, they have an enemy stronger than aliens.
The door silently opened and the Supreme Being looked into the room. Tiatian.
Atris involuntarily cringed, he knew that the conqueror could kill him with a look. Killing is the best. But he’s here to end them. He’s ready.
— I’m busy! — roared Commentator 142, and the powerful alien closed the door on the other side in fright.
Atris shook his head and stared suspiciously at the traitorous servant of the human race. Commentator 142 wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, and poured a blue liquid into two glasses—the elite alcohol from Tiat.
— Maybe I should tell you everything so that you won’t do it all worse.
Under pressure
«Damn,» Atris swore, hiding behind the wall.
The weak-willed slaves, controlled by the Tahitians, brought a huge screen into the building. Now he will also have radiation at work that suppresses his will. The rest of the staff watched in silence. They couldn’t do anything, nothing. Even if they were able to band together and attack the Tahitian servants, kill them, break the screen, it wouldn’t change anything. At all. Because the Tahitians would kill the whole crowd. With a look, through the captured people.
Doing something
— Another Tahitian base,- Atris told his companions.
The building hovered in the air, on the other side of the river, emitters shone around it in pillars, they also guarded the office of aliens and traitor commentators from possible incursions of the rebels. Under the building lay energy plates that worked on the life force of the new order criminals.
Screams reached Atris and his companions. The pillars flashed iridescently and everything was quiet. Probably, someone tried to attack again and the pillars dispelled the attack aircraft.
Atris sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Why do they keep doing this? Is it stupid to die or become fertilizer for the Tahitians?
— But we must do something! — a tattooed, shaved beauty in pieces, in camouflage and hung with weapons, grinned.
Atris looked her up and down. New.
— Yes, you haven’t died so far just because you haven’t tried to do anything important,» Atris grinned.
The girl answered, something well-aimed and caustic, but Atris turned away and did not hear, because he did not listen.