The palace was a huge hive, buzzing with activity. While the majority of the people present were Zcarbbs, individuals of other species could be seen from time to time. They were setting up machines, giving orders to workers or working alongside them.

  The entrance hall was a huge room that seemed to serve a bit for everything. Multiple galleries branched off from it, sometimes located high up. The Zcarbbs walked easily along the walls or by clinging to structures hooked to the ceiling, while the non-zcarbbs sometimes used floating platforms or personal antigravity generators.

  They progressed inside vast amber corridors, until they reached a large room mixing Zcarbb architecture and common gel seats. A gray-skinned man, of some species with corkscrew ears, waited on one of these supports while reading data on a personal tablet. He looked up in surprise when he saw them arrive. The rest of the room was furnished with a few pieces of furniture and machines, as well as occupied guard posts. A huge amber door closed off access to another room.

  “You Waiting.” the guards explained briefly, pointing to the seats.

  For their part, they remained standing, motionless. Perfectly motionless, like real statues. It was rather terrifying.

  The two Xerineans were huddled together on one of the gel benches, rather anxious. Sava waited to find out where Libre was going to sit, so that she could sit on the opposite side of the man who had preceded them. The latter greeted them:

  “Oh, hello. I didn't expect to have company.”

  Very kindly, he shook their hands before they even noticed him, then waved to the Xerineans in a friendly manner.

  “My name is Xram Martel,” he explained, “I am a unionist. I represent the United Union of Utela Workers.”

  They introduced themselves in return.

  “Ah,” he said, “Sava Domeria? I imagine that many people with the last name Domeria are given that name... often those of the generation before yours, but I imagine that the tradition continues.”

  “Ah?” she replied, blushing slightly. “I suppose... You're a unionist, you say?”

  “Exactly. I represent all the worker’s unions in the galaxy... well, the part under Zcarbb control anyway.”

  “There are worker’s unions under the Zcarbbs?”

  “More or less: it's an initiative on our part. As long as the work is done, the Zcarbbs accept our existence... Of course, every time I come, several of my comrades have to replace me at work: the quota of hours has to be filled, even if it's by someone else.”

  Actually, Sava knew nothing about the living conditions under Zcarbb occupation. There were all sorts of rumors, even of queens devouring entire rows of slaves, but the reality was mysterious… and probably forbidden to be broadcast.

  “So,” she asked, “how does it work? I mean, how do people live, what are the conditions?”

  The man straightened up, quite proud that his position even put him in contact with administrative agents who came from outside. His duty, his role, took on even more importance: he informed the world of reality, with its dark aspects, but all the nuances necessary to paint a faithful and objective picture of it.

  “Well, we can say that the problem of employment has been definitively solved. By that I mean that the entire population is forced to work fifteen hours a day. I had… well, we had: I was not alone in the negotiations… so we had a lot of trouble exempting children up to the age of fifteen. We managed to convince the Zcarbbs that they had to be sent to school so that they would be more efficient later, and that they needed leisure time in order to slowly assimilate all the data learned... They were understanding: they even made these leisure hours mandatory... whatever that might mean...”

  “Fifteen hours a day!”

  “Well, it must be admitted that travel time is considered in this time... These are still rather difficult conditions, but it also depends on the job. We also managed to introduce one day off per week... and a work hardship index that allows for a reduction in the hours required for the most exhausting jobs.”

  “Oh... And what about salaries?”

  “There, it's rather complicated. Or simple, perhaps? All products have been divided into two categories, each using a different currency. There are necessities and luxury products. The whole game is to succeed in moving more and more products into the necessities category... Overall, this category contains everyday foods, necessary hygiene products, clothes with the exception of luxury ones... All workers receive a salary in the first currency, itself divided between the food category and the rest, since the share of the food category is calculated according to individual needs and the calorie expenditure of the work performed... therefore revised upwards or downwards individually according to the calculations of the Zcarbbs. Each worker also receives bonuses in the second currency. There is a regular bonus, allowing you to accumulate some little by little, and exceptional bonuses in the context of unusual work or holidays. This currency allows you to buy products considered luxury or everyday products. Of course, we can also arrange to pass off some essential items for work as business expenses...”

  He tapped his tablet mischievously.

  “You mean the state controls everything, even more than the Administration? Doesn't that harm the entrepreneurial spirit?”

  “At first, it was quite complicated. The Zcarbbs banned matter synthesizers outside of military use. Apparently, they consider that these machines deprive workers of the ‘joy of working’ by replacing them. They also repressed all popular protests by using weapons, then when their system had to be accepted, there was indeed a radical decline in the will to do good, to develop. The Zcarbbs struggled to try to understand why and, with a few tips from us, found some ways to revitalize the economy. Now, there are special bonuses for companies with good performance, which are passed on to their workers, aid for the development of new businesses, bonuses for businesses opening where there is a recognized need... And then, there is always the black market where, with administrative solidified credit, you can get... unrecorded supplements.”

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  “You... isn't it risky to talk about it... here?”

  “No: the Zcarbbs know about it. They tried to suppress it at first, but we managed to convince them that it was useful for the proper functioning of the system: a little extra necessary for those who are not of their kind... I don't remember how we managed to convince them, but they accepted as long as there were not too many resources sold like this, and as long as their patrols didn’t come across it.”

  He smiled, his eyes shining with memories of past negotiations:

  “Frankly, this is an exciting time for unionism… Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying it’s good… But, unlike the Administration where, with all the subsidies from everywhere, all the aid, our only remaining subject of struggle was to help the indebted and to maintain a good allowance for the unemployed despite their growing number, we have a real role again. It’s a difficult time and we are practically slaves, but I believe that with time we will be able to build a fairer system than the one before. Did you know that we even managed to have stay-at-home mothers recognized as having a real job? They receive a salary with attractive bonuses, the value of which can vary according to the nonsense caused by their children and their level of education… There are still a certain number of adjustments to be made for this system to be truly fair, but it’s an unprecedented advance!”

  Sava wasn’t sure what to make of this man and his speech. Although he tried to hide it, the difficulties their people were facing seemed to excite him. He probably didn’t like these deprivations of freedom and this system where state control was almost total, but the possibility of negotiating, of gradually improving this new world, seemed very motivating… The workers toiling in the factories might not have the same point of view, but gradually gaining a few small advantages must have been appreciated, must have gift them a few bursts of happiness… probably…

  “And,” Sava asked, “what are you waiting for here, exactly?”

  “Oh, I have to be received by the queen. I’m currently trying to negotiate the establishment of a week of vacation per year. I think that by proposing to divide the population into several zones, in order to avoid a total cessation of activities, and by arguing with supporting documents on the remotivating aspect of waiting for vacations in work productivity... yes, I think I can convince her... maybe not this time, but slowly, gradually... Of course, our workers will have to make an effort to justify these data, once the advantage is acquired, or we risk losing it.”

  “How does the population react overall?”

  “Well, like all populations who value their lives when the government can send the army: they work. There are... (he lowered his voice) a few rebel groups who try to support the reconquest of our planet by the Confederation (he resumed his normal tone) but they are only a minority. Another minority is very satisfied with the Zcarbb domination, claiming that the system would be fairer and that the obligation to work would give meaning to life. The majority is certainly amorphous, without any real opinion. They mourn the freedoms lost, but appreciate the total freedom of expression gained in return. We have the right to say anything, to write anything… The only rule is to avoid insulting the queen. She herself doesn’t care, but the guards can consider it as an aggression and react accordingly.”

  “If there is total freedom of expression, shouldn't people protest more against their living conditions? Write on the walls, hold up signs, all that?”

  “Well... they have the right to hold up signs in their free time... Writing on the walls, on the other hand, is considered vandalism and is punishable by a loss of luxury currency, as well as the obligation to erase the wall yourself... On the other hand, there is no control over what is written on the Network or what is broadcast on the boards dedicated to public expression. There are also the union halls where all expressions can be expressed and written... with a few rules like ‘don't hit each other’ or ‘don't erase a text for at least a day’... On these points, we are freer than under the Administration... Maybe in a few decades, thanks to our brilliant union activity, people will have the right to move outside the territory of the Hive and its vassals.”

  He remained silent for a moment, dreaming of a brighter tomorrow, before looking more serious and pointing out a negative point:

  “There is also another problem: it is the consideration for the elderly. In the beginning, the Zcarbbs had designated places as ‘piles to die’, where people unfit to work could go to commit suicide. They usually targeted the elderly, because the level of medicine has remained about the same as before, or so they say, and that we thus remain more easily able to work. Well, there was no obligation to go die, but the Zcarbbs considered that people would go there of their own accord when they were ‘no longer of any use’… a rather… sordid view. Apparently, their commoners act like this when they feel useless. We managed to make the Zcarbbs understand that we consider that the value of a person does not depend on their ability to work, but they categorically refuse to pay non-workers, even for the necessities of life or their years of work.”

  “So, the elderly are left behind.”

  “Unfortunately, yes, especially those who are not supported by their relatives. But we managed to create our own pension fund. Everyone contributes a little, and we guarantee a minimum subsistence level for the elderly. Since all the people who are still somewhat able are forced to work, there aren't too many at the moment, so the system works and we can even offer them some luxury currencies when the holiday bonuses fall... the holidays are also quite random: the Zcarbbs don't have the notion of regular holidays... some are more or less regular anyway, like the ‘warehouse full before winter’ holiday... The Zcarbbs get together and admire the well-filled stacks of warehouses, without eating anything and going back to work right after...”

  He showed a perplexed pout:

  “Yeah. I may have always lived under Zcarbb domination, but I'll always find them weird... Well, at least we get bonuses on that day. Not much, but it allows you to accumulate luxury a little faster...”

  Suddenly, the large door opened silently, revealing a second corridor leading to a new large door. The unionist stood up.

  “Ah, finally… It was a pleasure speaking with you: I don’t know what your business is here, but I hope you can relay our living conditions to the rest of the universe. I must go, to negotiate one more step toward utopia, one more step away from dystopia…”

  As he approached the opening, the guards who had emerged from it waved him to stop.

  “Not you. Sava Domeria.”

  The man frowned, then shrugged. Of course, an enemy agent would have priority for an interview over a regular visitor who had been waiting for over an hour. He went to sit down again, waving friendly at the group as they left.

  Sava saw that Lhom had taken careful notes on what Martel had told them, building a new file for the pile of results he hoped to use to get himself pardoned. The Xerineans, huddled together, trotted after him.

  The guards surrounded them and led them into the second corridor. As the large door closed behind them, the Zcarbbs awkwardly made them understand that Sava-Domeria must be at the head of their group, then the second door opened…