Microscope - Prologue
#1 of Microscope
The start of a new story I am working on. I will post the first few chapter on here to see what people think.
A brief overview of the backstory.
When Theia hit the earth, the result was not our cherished moon. Instead a ring system, like Saturn's, appeared. Earth's subsequent development differed wildly from the earth that we know.
Evolution resulted in multiple intelligent species being dominant, but humans have never existed. The societies they formed quickly encountered each other, as the world's continents (still somewhat the same as on our earth) are connected by land bridges.
The societies eventually formed civilizations, with many religions incorporating the prominent ring systems as an element. Societies progressed by utilizing the strengths and weaknesses of different species, giving an edge to more diverse societies. This feature, coupled with the worlds oceans being less of a barrier, resulted in a proto-globalisation.
However, in early history, speciesism takes place in the form of discrimination against less advanced societies, and the species that are associated with those societies.
An event in earth's new history saw a goat named Bakor, living in the bottom caste of a regional power, climb his way up. He gains control over the kingdom and sets out to create an empire. He's eventually slain by the first gunpowder-based weapon, a rocket, which help spread knowledge of the deadly powder throughout the world. Another side effect of his rise and fall is an increased focus on equality in many parts of the world.
The different nations of earth remain technologically (at least in the realm of military) on par with each other, making colonization a costly and rarely successful affair.
In modern times, an UN type organisation is formed to counter instability caused by anthropocentric organisations, rivalry between nations and ideological differences. Behind the scenes however, in the shadows, the real masters of this organisation use its influence to keep their associates in power. This shadowy council consists of elites from many different species.
A noted social scientist and biologist publishes his self-proclaimed magnum opus, in which a case for the concept that we know as social Darwinism is made. It proves to be a very controversial and influential work.
Coordinated attacks on members of the shadowy council create a vacuum, which is filled by sinister characters who are united in their motives. They are members of a mysterious group who are devoted to the work of the scientist; they seek to incite chaos and conflict to propel society towards a utopia.
Prologue
The restaurant was quiet, except for the voices coming out of a dining booth in the back. The booth's wall-lamp produced the only artificial light in the room, it being aided by the glow from the bright night sky coming in through the windows.
"Well, that was truly great." the panda Mazur said, pushing his empty plate to the side. "Probably the best bamboo confit I've ever had. Of course, it would be unwise to serve lousy food to the guy who owns the biggest newspaper in town." Opposite of him sat a barbary sheep.
"In town? In the world!" barked Ovis Lervia. "And yes, my ink can end careers," he pointed a nail at Mazur, "including yours, sir".
"Oh, I know what you're capable of," Mazur said with a half-grin. "it looks like you've already dealt with this place." He looked around the room.
Ovis followed his gaze and said: "I find that meetings become more bearable when I conduct them in acceptable restaurants. But that means no interruptions, so I rent the place out."
"Why don't you just buy the place?" asked Mazur.
"My interest in food is limited to eating it. I'm not going to lower my brand by buying diners." Ovis took a sip of his drink and continued: "But we're not here to talk about my investment plans, are we?"
"Well..." said Mazur, "in a sense - I'd like to think your patronage of me was mutually beneficial, yes?"
This was met by a hard stare from Ovis, so Mazur went on: "Lervia Communications lifted me up to where I am now. I can't deny that. My books would never have sold so well by orders of magnitude." He paused.
"Your point?"
"The best writing I've ever done were the opinion pieces, you know, about the troubles in Emsver, or about Otho Rovere's studies. But when I look at your publications now-"
"Now listen here," Ovis interrupted, "you don't work for me anymore, so I don't have to listen to your concerns. If you think that your latest dime novel can bargain for me changing course, you're wrong."
"You wound me," - Mazur placed a heavy paw on his chest - "you used to like my writing."
"Yes, back when your pieces lent quality and stature to my company. But when I look at your publications now..." Ovis echoed ironically.
Mazur spread out his arms. "My style appeals to the masses. The underlying themes maybe not so much, but what I write is truth." He settled his arms on the backrest of his sofa, and looked coolly at Ovis.
"A shame, really, to see you squander your talents on faulty convictions. I kept myself from publicly panning your work because people still connect you to my company," said Ovis. He touched one of his horns. "A boon as long as your name commands respect, a curse when that's no longer the case."
"Glad to be of service," smiled Mazur.
They regarded each other, then Ovis said: "Well, your old job is not on the table. Did you want to talk about your new manuscript?"
"Not really... a mutual friend suggested this little bilateral."
"And who might that be?"
Mazur weighed the name carefully. "Morne Buselaphus."
Ovis froze at the mention of this name. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He squinted his eyes and finally said in a low voice: "Buselaphus is not... my friend. How do you know him?" It was then that he noticed the unusual creases on the lower-left side of Mazur's jacket. "Where the hell is the staff?" He said unsteadily, while Mazur placed his paws on the table, and pushed himself up from his seat.
"You should have bought the place," - Mazur pulled out a pistol from beneath his jacket - "then you could have told them to not take bribes."
Ovis quickly rose from his seat and held out his hoofed hands. "Wait, wait!" He implored. Speaking very fast, he said: "You know about the council? You want my seat!? You can take it!"
Mazur scratched his chin with the barrel of his gun. "Now, that is interesting. So all I needed to do to sway you was brandish a gun?" In one quick movement he levelled the gun at Ovis. "It matters not; your time is up."
"NO WAI-!" Three loud BANG's cut off Ovis' yell, and he sagged back into the bench. Smoke engulfed the booth, and through it peered Mazur at the ex media-tycoon. He stood there for a moment, his face expressionless, his pose unchanged. Then he shook his head, tucked away the gun, and started for the exit.