Artwork by Albin Johnson
Artwork by Albin Johnson
Sex / Race - Male Vrusk
Age - 35
Handedness - ambidextrous
System & Planet of Origin - Planet Circe, in the Solar Minor System
Frontier Status - citizen of Circe
Profession - Technical PSA
Occupational Standing - freelance
Appearance - light blue carapace with orange near joints, weathered 'Z' for 'zed' is embossed on his left shouler plate
Languages - Vrusk, Pan-Gal
Background:
Hrovat was not an exceptionally old hive but it was the oldest one on Circe, the first one Vrusk colonists established after settling the Solar Minor system alongside their Human neighbors. Co-existence with mankind was not always smooth: in the early days there were conflicts when jobs were scarce or social debates needed an easy target to vilify. Vrusk distrusted Human and vice-versa, but over the years a grudging acceptance settled between the colonies.
Hive Hrovat was a tradition-based hive, to be sure. It still maintained centuries-old eugenics practices begun when Vrusk technology made such a thing possible. Simply put, breeders controlled the birth population's phenotype profile by selectively introducing or witholding proteins to the developing embryos at critical stages, creating three different castes of citizens. There was the lower (worker) caste, the middle (skilled) caste, and the upper (administrative) caste. Strength and dexterity were inversely proportional to the caste levels, intelligence and leadership proportional. The tradition merely followed from evolution, some argued, but many Vrusk hives have since abandoned it on grounds of enlightenment. Still, no one could refute Hrovat's excellent work record, nor the legendary alumni who went on to found companies and increase the productivity. And everyone was happy.
"Excuse me, attendant, did you just drop that larvae?"
Frontier Year (FY) 76 The deviation appeared early, although not outwardly. The sensation made itself known only to larvae thirty-one lying in Hive Hrovat's nursery. The amber light in the incubation chamber clearly illuminated the hexagonal design on the crib panel. The panel was the most obvious feature in its immediate world, so embryo thirty-one studied it in awe for days. The six crisp lines, each adjoining in perfect angles. Perfect angles. Sharp, unyielding vertices. Yet, that wasn't what it had been at first. When the embryo's vision first came into focus it looked more rounded, softer. Yes, a much more pleasant shape. What had happened in that time to make it change? The embryo's mind couldn't help but see it as a circle, the lines bending gradually outward to fullness. In retrospect, perhaps that was a more organic form to a hatchling Vrusk, and hence attractive. But for a Vrusk mind to think so abstractly at such a stage? Why, it was.... abnormal.
"Dam T'Prexdis, your offspring is......different."
Embryo thirty-one, named Syzygy, was born to the middle caste. But early on in his development the teachers knew something was wrong. Perhaps it was the 'Tagrid's Pyramid' game, in which the Vrusk children wereearly on in organizational design through the construction of a toy pyramid. An important developmental milestone. But while the others constructed solid, symmetric piles, Syzygy just stared at the blocks like they were telling a story or piled them one on top of the other in frightfully precarious designs that showed no order. "No, no NO!!!! Syzygy - that is all wrong! Your pyramid shows none of the heierarchical qualities of a GOOD pyramid! Five demerits!" The instructor never seemed to notice the hyper cube the young Vrusk had managed to construct out of blocks. But what use did an instructor have for advanced three-dimensional constructs?
Syzygy's school record told the story:
FY 86 - Teacher's Comments - Student Syzygy T'Prexdis - Hrovat Academy for Youth
Computer Science - "... has trouble maintaining discipline. Attention span is low. Aptitude negative."
Literature - "...may need remedial reading instruction. Aptitude negative."
Economics - "...when reviewing the 31st proper form for addressing a company superior, appeared disinterested. Actually argued that the smarter worker should be considered the superior - the insolence! Aptitude negative."
Music - "...makes terrible noises on the instruments, much to his own delight - inconceivable as a musician! Aptitude negative."
Language - "....unruly and stubborn. Curiosity is noteworthy, but his knowledge of expletives in every Frontier language is disturbing. Aptitude negative."
History - "...talks out of turn. Shows little interest in work or structure. Aptitude negative."
Art - "...shows interesting breadth in his approach to art. Unfortunately, his work is random and haphazard. Aptitude negative."
Still years from maturity, Syzygy was finally sent to the psychologists.
Their diagnosis was grim: Syzygy lacked the ability to adapt to and learn
the highly structured system of Vrusk life. His mind, they judged,
suffered erratic thought patterns and diffuse cognitive ability. He was
officially labelled a Zed, which in the ancient tongue referred to a
'damaged' worker - one who could no longer contribute to the collective.
The population control board promptly embossed his carapace with the sign
for a Zed and sent him to work as a porter in the factories.
It was several months before Syzygy realized the significance of what had happened. Too interested in the gears and gadgets of the factory, he never thought about his situation. He never paid attention to the workers who called him 'Zed' like it was a disease. All he cared to do was tinker with the machinery. Sometimes a relay bank or a set of gears would capture his eye for hours. The workers kept kicking him out of the way and yell at him for being lazy, until they realized that broken things around the factory floor wound up repaired if the lad was left alone with it long enough.
But the simple life changed when the new supervisor, a thinker from the upper caste, took over the factory and began harassing the workers. Time and again Syzygy witnessed his autocratic cruelty, and, feeling helpless to do anything about his situation, felt his first glimmer of ambition. When the shrivelled, elderly Vrusk inspected the plant for the first time he was shocked to find a Zed child gaining access to the machinery and promptly had him re-assigned after a good beating.
FY 90: "Outside the circle.... outside the circle..."
Opportunity came in the way of another porter job. Syzygy was chosen to carry tools for a technician who worked all over the hive. One day he was sent to repair a faulty terminal in Population Control. As Syzygy walked through the complex, he was amazed at the traffic of young Vrusk being processed in the center: children with their parents shuffled from one administrator to the next, applying for apprenticeship in the field their aptitude batteries had chosen for them. Passing one darkened room, he saw an audience of youngsters being shown a training film on starships and the wonders of the technical field. The images took his breath away, and once again he recieved that little nudge that told him there was something more. Without a thought, he marched right in - and was promptly kicked out when the attendant saw his marking. "Move along, ZED."
The rejection was nothing new, but now it had new meaning for him. The impact was enough that minutes later, when his supervisor turned one way, Syzygy simply turned another. He crept around Population Control's halls for several minutes, looking for what he did not know. Down one abandoned hallway he came to a room where a single Vrusk youth was waiting alone, apparently for his appointment with a tester. On his shoulder carapace shone the three tiny bars of an upper caste member. For a moment Syzygy just stood and stared at the younger Vrusk, silently working the situation over in his head.
"Hello? Are you the tester? My name is B'dex."
It made sense. It fell outside the circle, but it made sense.
"Welcome to Platform 627: Starship Training Program. Shuttle leaves in 20
minutes"
The P.C.C. representative impatiently moved the crowd of youth along to the entryway. Dozens of Vrusk teenagers, the cream of the crop, were on their way to a special training camp to begin their education as space-bound technicians. One youth greeted him with an awkward grin of mandibles before handing him his i.d. card. One month later, someone finally decided to believe the ZED in factory level 10 who kept screaming that he was in fact a Thinker. It was inconceivable to think of any Vrusk willingly trading in their identity in the hive for another. The Population Control Board discussed the matter for another six months without an answer. By that time, Syzygy T'Prexdis was no more.
F.Y. 105 - Years passed. Syzygy, under an assumed name, completed his
training and worked his way up to Technician First Class in the Solar Minor
militia. He was considered a disappointment by some - after all, the
Academy trained officers and admirals, not mere technicians. How he'd
gotten in was still a puzzle. Syzygy's idiosyncratic thinking was still
evident by his record: his psych profile showed an amazing knack for
intuition and creative problem-solving. But that was tempered by a
difficulty with authority, and a basic lack of interest in organizational
thinking. As one analyst put it: "...where a normal Vrusk would construct
order and harmony into a situation, Syzygy seems to take delight in
de-constructing a problem, observing the chaos, even REVELLING in it!"
Such a way of thinking was very atypical for a Vrusk. Perhaps the contact with the nearby Humans exacerbated it. But what it boiled down to was that Syzygy developed an infamous reputation for being unpredictable and rash. The resourcefulness served him well in the field, fixing downed subspace radios, personnel-carriers, and the like. One passion he took to immediately was demolitions - the instantaneous moment of localized chaos sent shivers down his thorax. Where the others simply saw a tool for the removal of unwanted large objects, Syzygy saw an incredible force that freed boring particles from their rigid prisons and sent them hurling about like the genesis of the cosmos. But as innovative as he was in his qualities, in the real world they were qualities no organization, no business, no trade house in Vrusk society would abide.
F.Y. 107 - The attack came quickly and with no warning from the outer tracking satellites. Inside fifteen minutes Mining Complex 102 on Circe was hit by a renegade band of human pirates looking for valuable explosives, refined precious stones, and whatever money they could find. It was an easy target, remote as #102 was in this region. The only ones to pick up the message at first was Recon. Team Dagos on maneuvers in a nearby desert. Syzygy was piloting their support jetcopter when the message came in. The pirates had hit hard with rockets, detonating some of the explosives sheds and causing the tunnel openings to collapse. Several hundred worker Vrusk were trapped.
Syzygy didn't even hesitate. Leaving half his team stranded in the desert, he immediately proceeded to the site to lend a hand in the rescue. When his superior officer ordered him to land and await orders, he tossed him off. Onboard the copter he knew he had enough military-issue explosives to possibly open up one of the tunnels, and with his craft's guns he stood a good chance of getting past any enemy defenders. Within a kilometer of the site, though, company aircars swooped in to intercept him. The official word was that the pirates were too close to sensitive company equipment to be attacked or provoked - they might detonate millions of credits in capital. Syzygy's rescue was out of the question. The unspoken word from the company was also clear: worker Vrusk were lower caste and not worthy of the risk rescue posed to the facility.
The thought outraged Syzygy. Hundreds could be dying while the government negotiated with the pirates. Going against thousands of years of Vrusk tradition, he made his decision in favor of the miners, slamming the jetcopter's engines into overdrive and barreling through the blockade of military and pirate positions and a hail of gunfire. Battered and barely working, the jetcopter finally reached one of the closed tunnels, where Syzygy promptly released his Tornadium D-19 payload. Within seconds the explosion rocked the landscape, sending dirt and rock in every direction. Through the smoke, Syzygy noted with satisfaction the sound of the eruption and the sight seconds later of dozens of Vrusk workers scrambling out of the hole.
His jetcopter made its escape intact, but the military channels told him what he already knew: he'd broken the company's laws and was now wanted for treason. Syzygy never fully embraced the Vrusk way of life, but the pang of loss at knowing he'd never see home again surprised even him. The dilemma puzzled him the entire trip from Mining Complex 102 to Circe's nearest starport. Time to disappear again, he thought, and within a day's time he was Syzygy T'Prexdis again - a Zed everyone had forgotten about years ago. By the time the authorities thought to look for him onboard the Trading Station orbiting Kir' - Kut he was already gone, booking passage with smugglers bound for Prenglar. Looking for what, he didn't know... somewhere out there, outside the circle.
Description:
Syzygy comes off as a little odd, even to non-Vrusk. Unlike his orderly, harmonious brethren Syzygy's personality is at times spontaneous, at other times ruminative. Curiosity leads him on odd tangents, some of them foolhardy. Having seen the limitations of Vrusk organizational thinking, he is always looking for ways to 'think outside the circle,' finding patterns that defy straightforward structure and blend into chaos. This attraction to nihilism, along with his early socialization as a misfit, has imbued Syzygy with a self-abandonment that oft times puts himself at considerable risk.
In person he is affable and engaging, partial to posing odd questions to his companions for the sake of conjecture. He often goes by the name 'Zed', but remains sensitive about the mark left on his carapace from childhood. Syzygy tends to have a lot of nervous energy, and finds himself playing with any knick-knack at hand while thinking. He can often be seen toting an old Dralasite puzzle-toy that he manipulates in one hand constantly. He is also fond of pistachios, snacking on them constantly. A golden ring hung about his neck once belonged to his childhood sweetheart, T'Vrana, and is dear to him. But if asked about it by female Vrusk he is quick to try and use it to pick them up - Syzygy's abandonment of Vrusk protocol apparently goes hand-in-hand with an abject disregard for courting rituals.