Theia's Mammon: The Confessions of Ruxha Fo-Rakhundra



0



(The Ruxha confessions threw the end of the Water War into disarray, delaying restoration processes within Brunian maintained territories. Ruxha Fo-Rakhundra was a Gottian artillerist and former-student of the distinguished Prof. I'sh Llosa, co-discoverer of Skonispheric Water. Ruxha credited his O-addiction as the reason for his explusion. Shortly after the war began, he joined the effort to repel hostile Brunian forces along Sha's Line. He became a very skilled artillerist, specializing in long-range O-bomb defensive tactics. Disillusioned and increasingly dependent on oxygen, Ruxha escaped into enemy territory with classified information that allowed Brunian forces to prolong re-construction efforts. Shortly after he escaped he took a lethal amount of oxygen, and by the time of his confession, Ruxha was only minimally conscious. His words have been transcribed from the original recording.)



I



Who threw chunks of poison,

draped acordingly,

into open breasts,

harrowed calls for death and ooze,

and unrest?



II



The great I'sh Llosa (Sar's Kin),

freed of debt, run and ruined O,

[That is, oxygen]

like quarried pests, to be

caught in Skoni's net:

a burden brought by Brunehead &

wrought with dead.



III



Sko knew his words would carry, why

shout when whispers work?

[And there was a price per Theian head (

a drop of H20 in your CH4 pool

{to make much O

})]



IV



"I've heard they store it in their bodies,"

said the populace, rubbing hands to dirt floor,

"or throw it to the left for luck."



Eyes on a keyhole stripped and struck,

Sko sells the Gottshead

-yet there is hunger-

and you find his picture propagated ceaselessly.



V



Who is the one who wakes the dead?

Gottshead! Gottshead! Gottshead!



VI



And in that year, I'sh lightens loads,

a rumble reared in glassed threads

thieves of fortune, Sko of old

masticated means to ends.



VII



Strike folly when the cell is full!

Strike army, pebbled sea!

Ruxha, roused from memory, is me.

And burned in white - pure white -

the image of our Skoni's life

(granted

there is more but we

daughters of such mercy

fight).



VIII



Whose mind is sojourn?

Llosa is our city's mind.



Dust combed taxonomically, sifted.

Facts lifted from the daily grind

(Ish's wish list) was

all in kind.



IX



"What more is mined is mine and

let not those who cry foul get allowance

for their time."



X



Sko is Llosa, Llosa's Sko

throw thy bombs of heavy O

o'er the mountains, heigh and ho

to warm our hearts in after-glow.



XI



That was its product, not water

(but water works [more than methane])

Strike fire in the furnace! (Heigh!)

Our progress, and its noose -

a fuselage made useless too.



You see it? You see it, don't you?

I came to you in shackles and

then THIS IS WHAT YOU DO???)



XII



[Inaudible glossolalia]



XIII



Throw carriage on the cradle.

Throw child to the cold (for they are fodder,

coffin'd daughters, slaughtered sons

of this new world.



XIV



Where go when methane gone?

"To war, of course."

What then if we don't win?

"Then mend our sores."



XV



And,

I'll tell you, [I say I'll tell you and so I will] -

there's no need for prodding

//verbal or physical//

pierced on Oro's spear

or

taken like Adairn -

-quick-



XVI



There was no revolution, only tinkerers,

(despite Sko's blaterings to the contrary),

,,,quiet in their coats

and sprayed with failed attempts.



no coup, heightened voices, but

blunderers of favour,

savourers of fame and

error, - ought

not

they be

praised

for

bearing te-

nors

for

their

cun-

ing?



XVII



But,

for blame is infinitely sliced,

who lies at water's edge?

[And,

by this I mean who

carved this branch

of science? who

sculpts new forms

in rock?]



And what wealth did Belbrune squander

that he sought fortune in another?



(and with a strength that did not match his words)



XVIII



Aforesaid: Sko,

pantomiming Head,

Gott daguerreotype in robe,

descends and rips his foes to shreads,

vaulted by cheers [I admit, I rose w/ the others],

and switching clothes (dark colours, full & rich), he rests and watches ruins.



XIX



Any option buried grey among the graves,

long bellow in journalistic swill

(froth put forth),

parched methane mouths,

hypertonic lips pursed and

wallow - empty cask

grasps

at a bit of bread.



XX



[I] know yr penchant for killing,

look at Pulul

-Was it the same cage?

same brimmed building

[Same] Oroist ways?



XXI



"Die! Brunehead!"

from a balcony of prose



[while Gott

to heir

to Head]

calls nationalistically for truce.



(this was long ago - before the fall,

before Belbrune broke ranks, donned true calling:

professional inheritor)





XXII



...hunkered inward to the tip,

but how long will

muscles clench before they loosen

long fibrils like

loadless tethers whipping Skoni's

eye.



XXIII



Then,

war for water,

I'sh meniscus,



low note on a long harp, thumb bow tap.



Sko: "We want fairness! Not War!"



XXIV



Many hid in the mountains, layered dead in cliff cracks,



hid from the fire of O-Bomb attacks

(until [we] bombed there too), no mishaps.



[I said 10% chance of hit -

they said "shoot ten!"]



And New Pan Sun fell.



XXV



And Belbrune died without sorakin.

And Belbrunians shivered and paid up.

And Sko, inchoate, "Gottian justice reigns!"

(while Sha Plains scrubs its painful stains).



XXVI



Left snuck in a chute bore,

cap grunge for a pip pot.



Ma' La-Ben, Ma' La-Ben, quiet in his digging,

said:

"horrors grow in the dark"

and met every last Theian to explain his pits.



How do you hide a horror?

Brunehead: "more pits".

Gott: "dig the dirt side".



XXVII



2H20 -> 2H2 + 02

2H+ + 2e- -> H2

2H20 -> 02 + 4H+ + 4e-

2H20 + 2e- -> H2 +2OH-

4OH- -> 02 + 2H20 + 4e-

2H20 -> 2H2 + 02



XXVIII



Rather than,



CH4 + H20 [lots of this] -> CO + 3H2

C0 + H20 -> CO2 + H2



XXIX



Made easier than Brunhead (that is, Sn.) thought

(and he should have known better

[what's a little electrolysis when you're ripping shit from the sky?

{Brunehead's

<that is, Jr.'s>

fault}

]

)



XXX



But it hit I'sh.



And Sko knew there was a power<

and lost no time bloviating<

shrill cries at first<

, then,

giddy,

terrified to stupor when he smelled sour air (

and the Brunes were near, knocking like they were

only fist).





XXXI



Sko was careful too,

knew how to lie,

and asked for $$$

up front,

defying 800 yrs of submission,

demanded he be paid for his thieving.



XXXII



What else have I to bring?



I worked with Llosa [This is to be read in full voice]

I worked w/ I'sh Llosa, the discoverer

of water, who surveyed the Skonisphere, and found

the currents were 30% water, compared

to 2% methane (down from 10% when methane

first described),



XXXIII



and,

basing his techniques on the old ways,

fueled a subjugated state into dominance.



XXXIV



What was I to do?



I waddled in waste

(and there was lots [of waste]),



but,

(remember the I'Rus explosions?)

we contained its

pummel in a palm.



and

threw it,

as death does,

to the winds.



XXXV



And,

the Brunehead cowered.

And

I cowered.

And we were alone among friends.



and my time to mend grows short



(of course I'll die,

I await it),



but I worry that I've neared my end.



XXXVI



so take these plans to feed, please read:

I see no need for Llosa's secret:

I plead my guilt, confess my weakness.