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The Israeli Defense Forces killed a Palestinian couple and two of their children in the West Bank on Sunday, on one of the deadliest days for Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank in weeks. The soldiers opened fire on a car in the village of Tammun in which 37-year-old Ali Khaled Bani Odeh, his 35-year-old wife Waad, and their four sons Mohammad, Othman, Mustafa, and Khaled were traveling.

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From Bilibili: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV12T4y1S7vG/

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The Ofenon Broths Series

Chapter 3: In Which Accommodations are Secured

The small craft—a mere orange cubicle emblazoned with OSSI logos and fitted with electronic thrusters on all four sides—glided serenely through the void separating its mothership, Dalara, from the Ring of Ofenon.

Leynad and Skyvy sat in seats that occupied nearly every square inch of the interior; the vessel was designed strictly for short commutes. Through the crystalline wall that made up one entire side of the ship, they watched as the planet grew steadily larger until it dominated their field of vision. In the distance, hovering above the world, a slender structure signaled the presence of the Ring, though its details remained blurred by distance.

As they approached, Ley asked Dalara for more information. The AI of the main ship, maintaining a steady link across the gap, replied with a stream of pertinent data.

The Ring was called a "ring" because the ultimate goal was for it to encircle the entire planet. However, while the initial construction phases had been a resounding success and the people of Ofenon were immensely proud of it, the structure was currently only a small fraction of a finished circle. It served as a residential hub, but more than anything, it was a vacation destination—a tourist trap in the stars. It was constantly teeming with travelers staying for a few days, though many others stayed for months or even years. About two hundred thousand permanent residents lived there as well, all dedicated to servicing the tourist industry.

The habitable surface occupied the "inner" part of the structure—the side facing the planet. It boasted its own artificial gravity, which operated from the ground up to an altitude of about 300 meters with the same intensity as the planet’s (which, in turn, was similar to Earth’s). Crucially, the Ring’s gravity didn't interfere with the planet's. Thus, when standing on the ground of the Ring, one’s "sky" was the planet Ofenon itself. Dalara noted that this could cause vertigo and mild nausea during the first few hours for first-time visitors, though nothing serious.

Dalara also recommended staying within the hotel grounds. Given the sheer variety of leisure options available in a controlled outdoor environment where help was always at hand, leaving the premises made little sense. The AI emphasized that if they did venture out, they should strictly avoid the residential sector—a place categorized as "unadvisable" and likely dangerous.

Curiosity piqued Leynad. As a boy, he had read fantastic stories of ring-worlds and had always wondered about the physics:

"I assume the curvature of the Ring’s surface is more or less like the planet's, right, Dalara?"

"Correct. The curvature is slightly less pronounced, as the Ring sits in a stationary orbit at an altitude of just over 350 kilometers," the ship replied.

"So, just as planets have a 'horizon,' they must have something else there, right? Do you actually see the ground curving upward?"

"Just as on a planetary surface, the curvature is so marginal relative to human sightlines that it is difficult to perceive you are standing on a curved plane. However, much like on a planet, if one finds an extremely flat area where objects move from the foreground into the distance, the effects become easier to spot. Unfortunately, the Ring has no seas or large bodies of water. Nor are there vast undeveloped spaces; practically as soon as the floor is laid, it is built upon and urbanized."

"So you can't see it?" Skyvy interrupted, her face falling as her illusions were shattered.

"If the Ring were complete," the ship continued, "one could easily see it as a narrow thread of land ascending into the sky in the far distance. As it stands, if one climbs a tall building at one end of the Ring and looks toward the other, one might catch a glimpse of the ascent at the farthest reaches of the construction. From ground level, however, it is virtually impossible to appreciate."

"We’ll have to go to one of those towers then. I’d love to see that," Skyvy confessed.

"That is complicated," Dalara warned. "On one end, there are no tall buildings; they are all low-rise hotels and apartments housing hotel managers, the planetary administrative corps, and the local high society. At the other end lies the residential zone where the rest of the permanent inhabitants live. That area consists of massive residential towers that would be ideal for the view you desire, Skyvy, but entry is not recommended. Due to population control failures and high unemployment, there has been a recent surge in crime."

"I’m going anyway," Skyvy replied defiantly. "My planet has rough neighborhoods, too. I’ll be fine."

"But Skyvy," Ley intervened, "you heard Dalara. I don't know what kind of 'rough' we're talking about here, but it’s probably not worth it."

"Scattered across the tourist sector are several observation towers," the ship added. "While they won't offer as clear a view as you'd like, they are designed for tourists and are perfectly safe. I recommend you go there instead."

Skyvy didn't appreciate Ley and his ship ganging up to ruin her fun. "I’m going anyway," she repeated.

The minor standoff ended when the ship announced: "Approaching the Ring."

The holographic map displayed on the glass vanished, revealing the view outside. The planet was no longer a planet; it was the sky. Dalara had wisely rotated the auxiliary craft 180 degrees so they were "upside down" relative to their previous orientation, allowing them to enter the Ring’s gravity well with the surface beneath their feet.

The small ship had its own internal gravity, so they felt nothing inside. However, had they been watching the stars during the flip, the sensation of the universe turning upside down while they remained still would have likely induced violent nausea. Dalara, ever the diplomat, had used the information dump as a distraction to spare them the motion sickness.

Beneath the planetary sky, they watched as they approached the gargantuan structure of the Ring. They could see its flank and the edge where construction had halted for the moment. Visually, they could tell they were decelerating rapidly.

Suddenly, they went from being in space to "flying" over the Ring’s surface. Dropping to a subsonic cruising speed, they took in the strange artificial world.

First, they passed over the construction sites at the edge. From that height, they saw little more than human "ants" scurrying about and a vast expanse that ended abruptly in the void on one side. On the other, a great wall separated the construction zone from the finished city. Those had to be the residential blocks Dalara mentioned. They were monolithic concrete slabs—gigantic rectangles packed with floor after floor of apartments for the 200,000 workers. Even from the air, it looked bleak. The buildings were huddled together with almost no space between them, and there wasn't a park or a playground in sight.

The concrete jungle ended abruptly, giving way to an enormous park that, while unrefined, was packed with people. Beyond the park, a massive crowd swarmed around a chaotic sprawl of small shops, tents, and stalls—a giant flea market. Once they cleared the bustle, they entered the pure tourist phase. This area was teeming with hotels and resorts, ranging from the incredible to the absurd. They saw one that spanned the entire 3-kilometer width of the Ring, featuring golf courses, private hiking woods, and streams for kayaking. Another featured full-scale ski slopes. While some were more modest, every resort had its own dedicated land. The surface was a patchwork of leisure facilities, gardens, and open-air zones designed for pure hedonism.

As the ship descended, details sharpened. In the distance, they spotted a nine-story building surrounded by modest but attractive gardens. The building was unremarkable compared to its neighbors, save for the large sign on the roof: ZOREGAK.

It didn't take long to reach it, and the ship "parked" on the roof with effortless grace. Leynad, remembering the reviews about the owner, braced himself for an over-eager welcome, assuming his choice of an expensive room had flagged him.

But his fears were briefly quelled. When the hatch opened, they were met by a lanky, awkward young man in his early twenties wearing a traditional bellhop uniform.

"Good afternoon, travelers. Welcome to the Zoregak Hotel. I am here to assist with your luggage and escort you to your room. Mr. Zoregak is currently off-Ring, but his nephew, Anton—his deputy—is waiting for you. He will show you the grounds and our excellent amenities. If you would be so kind..."

He reached for the bags Ley and Skyvy were already carrying. They handed over a few and followed him to an elevator inside a small rooftop kiosk.

As he pressed the button, the bellhop explained: "Your room is on the top floor. You’ll have a sensational view of the gardens—one of the finest in this sector. There is also a skylight for planet-gazing from the bed. It’s quite a sight here."

A bell chimed, and the doors slid open. Another tall, thin man appeared. This one, however, looked stiff and sour. Dressed in a sharp dark suit and a crisply ironed white shirt, his prickly black goatee gave his narrow face a somewhat ghoulish appearance.

"Good afternoon!" he said jovially, though with visible nerves. "Welcome to the Zoregak. I am Anton, Mr. Zoregak’s nephew. He is away and has asked me to welcome you and offer his sincerest apologies for his absence."

"No problem," Leynad replied.

"I am at your service," Anton said, bowing slightly. "We are honored by the presence of such distinguished visitors."

"We’re just people. Folks," Ley said, already weary of the groveling.

"Well... it is an honor to host 'folks' like yourselves," Anton continued. "Beautiful ship, by the way!"

It’s a damn orange cube that’s uglier than my left foot, Ley thought, but kept it to himself.

If Anton wanted to flatter him, so be it. Anton snatched the bags from the bellhop’s hands and dismissed the boy with a sharp look. As the boy passed Leynad, Ley stopped him and pressed a 5-credit note into his hand. The boy’s eyes lit up. Anton’s eyes also lit up, but with pure rage.

They followed their host a few meters down the hall to a door. Anton opened it and stepped aside to let them enter first.

Leynad was stunned. He wondered what kind of luxury a sixty-thousand-credit room held if a nine-hundred-credit one looked like this. Accustomed to the metallic sobriety of his ship, he found the room excessively gaudy. There were ceramic vases painted with loud floral motifs, classical paintings on the walls, and gilded objects Leynad couldn't even identify. But it was large. Very large.

The bedroom was equally ornate, featuring a four-poster bed. However, Anton showed them that the "classicism" was only skin-deep. The bed had a console on one side that allowed them to adjust the mattress firmness and angle—and to open the massive skylight above. Lying back, one’s entire view was the surface of Ofenon hanging in the sky.

Anton offered a guided tour of the gardens, but Ley cut him off. He wanted to see the gardens, but on his own terms; he came here to relax, not to make small talk with the staff. Leynad’s rejection seemed to rattle the stiff Anton, but he recovered quickly, leaving them with a parting comment that Ley didn't like one bit:

"I shall see you at dinner."

After settling in, unpacking, making passionate love, resting for half an hour, showering, and getting dressed up, Sky and Ley headed down to the dining room.

The moment they stepped through the door, Anton appeared from the kitchen. Leynad wondered if they had been tagged with motion sensors. It was exhausting.

"Allow me to escort you to your table," the host said, his voice dripping with syrupy service. "I have reserved the finest spot in the room. And today, our master chef is available..."

"Don't you have a buffet?" Leynad interrupted. Anton looked genuinely offended.

"Oh, sir, forgive me. But our restaurant is famous across the Ring, the planet, and the surrounding systems. You must try our steak..."

"Yes, yes," Leynad hurried to answer. "I’m sure I will. But please, we don't want any special treatment."

"If you prefer the buffet," Anton snapped back, "it is in the other wing. But I strongly urge you to try the restaurant. It has been awarded by several gourmet associations."

"Fine, fine. Just show us where to sit and—" get lost, Leynad thought— "tell us what’s good."

"This way, please," Anton said, leading the way.

They passed several tables, most of which were empty. Only two or three were occupied. Anton led them to a table by a large window overlooking the gardens, which were now illuminated by a myriad of neon lights and LEDs that shifted colors. The palms and pines looked like products of a cyberpunk factory. Ley was mesmerized by the lights while Anton recited the menu. He heard Skyvy say something, but it didn't break his trance until he felt a nudge on his arm. Skyvy and Anton were looking at him expectantly.

"Huh? Yeah, I’ll have what she’s having, thanks."

He hoped the "thanks" would signal that the man’s presence was no longer required, but Anton didn't take the hint. After tapping the order into his tablet, he said:

"I shall wait with you until the food arrives. It will take a moment; quality cannot be rushed. In the meantime, what brings you to the Ring? Would you like me to list the activities available?"

Leynad, finished with the brown-nosing, decided to be blunt.

"No, thank you. We’re here on business. I was on vacation and a little job popped up that’ll only take a day. We’ll likely be gone by this time tomorrow. By the way, how do I get down to the planet without using my ship? I’d like to go early tomorrow."

"In the other wing of the hotel, near the buffet, is the entrance to the orbital elevator cabins. We have two private ones. But you must reserve a time so the operator can be ready. Shall I arrange that for you? Will both of you be going? At what time?"

"I’ll be going alone," Ley said. "First thing in the morning. When would that be, exactly?"

"Our days are quite long if you follow the 24-hour standard. On the planet, days are 30 hours, and since we have no seasons, day and night are almost equal. The sun has just set, so dawn is about 14 and a half hours away. We keep planetary time here, though the light cycles vary. You see, we only get direct sunlight at dawn and dusk; otherwise, we receive the light refracted from the planet. It’s one of the Ring’s attractions—the unique colors..."

"I want to see the edge of the Ring," Skyvy said, jumping into the conversation.

"I wouldn't recommend it, miss. It isn't very scenic; it’s mostly construction. There is a public lookout in the tourist zone, at the opposite end, that offers a similar view safely. I can give you a brochure."

"Fine," she said dismissively, "but I want to see the real deal. I’ll figure it out."

Anton shrugged and turned back to Ley. "I shall reserve an elevator pod for fifteen hours from now. Does that suit you?"

"Perfect," Leynad confirmed. "Thanks."

Leynad used the "thanks" technique again, hoping the puppet would finally leave. But the man stayed put. He wasn't even talking anymore; he just stood there, staring at Ley. Ley had the impression that when Anton looked at him, he didn't see a man, but a giant bag of credits.

"If you’ll excuse us..." Leynad finally said. He’d had enough. He didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't relax with a sycophant waiting to lick his boots.

Finally, with a thinly veiled look of displeasure, Anton conceded. "Oh! How foolish of me! I shall leave you to your privacy. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you need anything, simply alert the waiter and he shall fetch me. Enjoy your meal."

"Thanks," Ley and Sky said in unison.

He finally left. Leynad breathed a sigh of relief.

Forty-five minutes later, he had to admit the dinner was exquisite and surprisingly plentiful. He hadn't eaten in fifteen hours and was hungry enough to eat a dinosaur; a rubber tire would have looked appetizing, but this was truly excellent.

After dinner, they strolled through the garden. From the window, the illuminated vegetation had looked spectacular, but up close, it was a bit of a letdown. It was likely much prettier in the daylight with its natural colors.

They walked, tossed coins into a wishing fountain, played mini-golf, and acted like idiots on the grass right next to a "Keep Off the Grass" sign. Then they returned to the room, where they "played" other games for a couple of hours until they passed out.

Leynad had actually had a wonderful time doing things he rarely did—mundane things, like going on a "normal" date.

He knew he had chosen his career. He knew he was the boss and could quit whenever he liked to do something else—or nothing at all. He had enough money to live ten lifetimes without working.

His usual "dates," if you could call them that, were limited to what he’d done on Skyvy’s planet: land, go to a party, meet someone, sleep together, and say goodbye. The few times he’d tried to pursue something deeper, he’d felt incredibly uncomfortable, using his work as an excuse to avoid commitment, whether it was the real reason or not.

Now, however, he felt different. He was enjoying himself. He had known Skyvy for a week, but it felt like a lifetime. Perhaps it was time to do the opposite: instead of leaving the girl because of the job, it was time to leave the job because of the girl...

..."

--"Continue reading and experience the original text in Spanish at https://fictograma.com/. Join our open-source community of writers today!"--

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Announcing the first release of Avalonia MAUI

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The Ofenon Broths Series

Chapter 2: In Which an Assignment is Revealed

Leynad finished his shower and returned to the bedroom. He found Skyvy fast asleep on the mattress that lay upon the floor, huddled in the sheets as if she intended to sleep for the next seven years. Making as little noise as possible, he grabbed some clothes and slipped out, whispering an order for the ship to deodorize the air and stabilize the room temperature.

He walked to the end of the corridor and entered the cockpit. Tossing his clothes onto the co-pilot’s chair, he settled into the command seat, instinctively reclining it to a forty-five-degree angle. Then, he commanded:

"Dalara, bring up the star map. Give me our location, nearby planets, points of interest… the usual."

The ship responded instantly from every wall:

"We are approaching the Ofenon system, Sector 26. Twelve days from our origin, six from our destination. Current velocity is zero; I am awaiting the optimal window to initiate acceleration toward the next white hole."

"Perfect. Hold off on the acceleration. Tell me something about this Ofenon place."

"The Ofenon system," the ship continued, "is a single-star G-type system with seven orbiting planets, three of which are rocky. The outermost of these three, Ofenon 3, was found to harbor life upon its discovery forty-two years ago. It has since been colonized by humans. The planet’s indigenous life is primarily vegetal and fungal; while a vast number of microscopic animal species, microbes, and viruses exist, they are largely harmless to humans. There are a small number of animal species larger than two centimeters, and none exceeding twenty. Most of these flora and fauna inhabit the vast ocean covering over 90% of the planet's surface. Would you like more data?"

"Keep it coming. I’m in no rush. Do these Ofenonians do anything in particular for a living?"

"The official demonym is ‘Ofenones’," Dalara corrected. "The planetary economy is based on agriculture, fishing, and tourism. The population is approximately three hundred thousand. For over thirty years, a project known as the ‘Ring of Ofenon’ has been under development. It is an artificial human construction designed to encircle the entire planet. Currently, only one thirty-fourth of the Ring is complete, consisting of a slightly oval platform three kilometers wide and just over two hundred kilometers long, at an altitude of 350 kilometers. It maintains a stationary orbit above the planet's largest city and is connected to it via orbital elevators. The Ring possesses its own artificial gravity and breathable atmosphere. Its population nearly equals that of the planet itself, though they are not statistically counted as inhabitants of any world, as the Ring’s surface lies beyond the troposphere."

Ley raised an eyebrow. The gears were turning in his head.

"This legal gray area," the ship continued, "has made trade on the Ring the primary economic engine not just for the system, but for the entire region. Since its construction, a thriving culture of commerce and tourism has flourished, fostering relations between nearby planets. However, this lack of legal oversight has also meant that—"

"Stop." Ley had heard enough.

A planet with a "lawless" zone. Trade in artifacts, food, substances… and Tote wanted him to take "something" from there to somewhere else. He had stressed that it "wasn't illegal." But why did Tote keep getting into these messes? He’d been the wealthiest man in the universe for over two decades. Why get his hands dirty with "gray area" activities?

Ley knew how Tote’s mind worked. Tote was a businessman to the marrow. As far as Ley was concerned, Tote had been born behind a desk and had been wiped clean and put in charge of a corporation the moment he left the womb. He’d said this was necessary "to avoid losing a good client." To Leynad, that translated to "making sure a client owes me a favor," because no client ever wanted to leave their company, OSSI.

OSSI was the first and only company (thanks to its patented obstacle detection and avoidance system) dedicated to discovering, retrofitting, and launching planets. The company scouted worlds through its Discoverers (like Leynad), built the initial infrastructure for "pioneer colonists," and then provided a "planetation" service to help new leaders secure settlers, construction firms, and whatever else the planet’s owners desired. Clients simply couldn't leave if they wanted their planet to thrive. But Leynad knew Tote liked to keep them happy… and indebted.

He figured if he took the job, the favor would actually be owed to him. But then he thought of everything he owed Tote. When his parents died in a tragic traffic accident on Earth twenty years ago, leaving him a teenager, Tote had finished raising him. On his eighteenth birthday, Tote had immediately handed over half the company—his rightful inheritance—without a single complaint. Because of that, Leynad was the second richest person in the universe, trailing only Tote and miles ahead of whoever was third. Furthermore, Tote had allowed him to pursue his passion: discovering planets, freeing him from the drudgery of management.

Leynad knew that such privilege was worth a thousand favors, but there was also Skyvy to consider. He had picked her up on planet Xu An a few days ago after meeting her at a club in Nova Noctis. He’d stopped there specifically for that club, having heard it was legendary. The place had been a letdown, but the terrible music had driven him off the dance floor and straight toward Skyvy. He’d first seen her by the exit, cursing at one of her shoes which had just lost a heel.

He’d told her, "Careful, they’re a jealous lot; when one breaks, the other follows suit out of spite." She’d laughed—more at his obvious attempt at flirting than the joke itself—but she had liked him.

The next morning, after spending the night together, Leynad told her what he did for a living, omitting the small detail that he owned the company. He was relieved to see she didn't recognize him. In truth, while many knew his name, few knew his face; he rarely appeared at public events—at least not "officially." That was another favor he owed Tote. Even so, he knew that if he were ever recognized, he was toast. When he met someone who liked him without knowing his bank balance, he knew he could trust them 100%. Between that trust and the fun they’d had, he didn't want the story to end yet. So, he’d invited her along.

Skyvy had hesitated at first, but she had her own ways of vetting people. After his joke, he’d helped her limp to her transport with only one shoe, had been a perfect gentleman afterward, and hadn't touched a hair on her head until she asked. It had only been a day, but... what the hell! Skyvy was young, a recent graduate, and currently unemployed—it was the perfect summer to be reckless. Leynad had promised she’d be home in a month and wouldn't have to pay a dime. At worst, he’d turn out to be a jerk, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her.

This situation was entirely new for Leynad, who was used to people whose interest ended at the bedroom door. Now, he hated the idea of inconveniencing her with a two-day detour for this errand.

On the other hand, based on Dalara’s description of the planet and that strange Ring, it might actually be fun. If it was a tourist trap, Skyvy could entertain herself there while he did the job, and then they could spend a couple of extra days exploring.

Decision made. He moved to the logistics.

"Dalara, find me five-star accommodations on the Ring for two nights. Sort by quality, ignore the price."

"The three highest-rated establishments are Palmera Space, Elite Ring, and The Zazz. Prices range from thirty to sixty thousand credits per night. Are you certain?" the ship asked politely.

"Hahaha, alright, Dalara, you caught me. Don't ignore the price." Despite his wealth, luxury didn't intoxicate Leynad. He didn't flee from it, but he found ostentatiousness stupid and immoral. A fifty-cent bed was likely infested with roaches, but a five-hundred-credit bed and a fifty-thousand-credit bed were equally comfortable. The difference was merely the wrapping and the "status." If he wanted to be idolized and envied, he’d take the expensive room. Since he wanted the opposite, he needed value. "Give me the best-rated under a thousand a night."

"Zoregak Ofenon. 897 credits per night in their five-star wing," the ship answered immediately.

"Zoregak? What does that mean?"

"It has no translation. It is the surname of the business founder. Reviews generally state it is perfect for wealthy middle-tier tourists, though it has a budget section. Zoregak offers guide services for both the planet and the Ring. High points include the orbital elevator transport, the room size, the spa, and the friendly service of the host, Dairos Zoregak—though some comments suggest his friendliness can be… excessive."

"In other words, the guy is a pest," Leynad interrupted. "Still, it doesn't sound like a rat hole. Almost perfect if I can reach the planet from there. Is that price for a double room?"

"Of course. Where else would you leave her?"

"Thanks, Dalara. We’re understanding each other better every day."

"I try."

"You succeed. Park in the closest permitted orbit. We’ll take the pod. Does the hotel have a landing pad or do we use public docks?"

"You can land on the hotel’s roof. Though there are negative reviews regarding the tight space and the fact that ships are left exposed to the elements."

"Well, Dalara, we won't have any trouble parking, will we?"

"I am capable of parking my pod in a space two millimeters wider than the pod itself."

"I know. How long?"

"I am already approaching the coordinates. In approximately thirty-five minutes, I will be stationed in the closest orbit permitted by law. You can then take the pod, which will reach the hotel in another fifteen minutes."

"Perfect. What will the local time be when we arrive?"

"Mid-afternoon."

"Perfect." Leynad had the plan mapped out. He reclined the seat further and propped his bare feet on the dashboard, one on either side of the small bulge that was the communication camera.

"Call Tote, please. Full visual."

"Calling Tote…" The ship obeyed.

A few seconds later, Tote’s face—pudgy, with a double chin and a sweaty bald head—appeared on the heads-up display against the backdrop of the stars.

"God, Ley! At least turn off the video, man! Disgusting!"

"Video off, Dalara," Ley ordered, savoring his revenge. The screen went dark. "Can we talk now, Mr. Sensitive?"

"What’s wrong with you? I can't have a serious business meeting with a naked man. Besides, did you have to sit with your balls right over the camera? Jesus!"

"I’m not getting dressed; it’s nice and breezy like this," Leynad said, dying of laughter inside. "You can't see me anymore. What else do you need?"

"Bah! I’ll make an exception because I saw those balls when they were no bigger than chickpeas, and it’s not like they’ve grown much since. Anyway… have you thought about it?"

"Yes, I’m on my way to the Ring. But tell me what this is about. Spill it, because I know there’s a catch."

"No catch!" Tote replied. "I told you, Ley. It’s easy. And 100% legal."

"It can't be that legal if you’ve felt the need to say so twice now…"

"Look, let me explain. On Ofenon, there’s a plant called Yazzee that grows on the ocean floor, between fifty and three-hundred meters deep. You know that planet is almost entirely water. There’s a lot of wild ocean where it grows naturally, but now they farm it in massive underwater industrial plantations. They export it to every system. It’s useful for everything. It’s like space-hemp; they use every part of it. It has a thousand applications."

"And? Are we going to smoke it?"

"Let me finish, dammit!" Tote snapped. "One quirk of this plant is that when it feels threatened, it secretes a substance that is poisonous to many species of fish and sea life."

"Hardly the only plant that does that… get to the point."

"The point is that the substance it secretes changes depending on the perceived threat. Years ago, it was discovered that when another plant, the Azzulia Marini, grows near the Yazzee, the substance the latter secretes to ‘defend’ itself sends humans into the stratosphere. It’s incredibly psychoactive. And obviously, it became a trend."

"Obviously," Ley noted.

"The thing is, they banned the cultivation of the second plant, the Azzulia, because without it, the Yazzee only produces substances that are harmless to humans."

"Why was it banned? Is it addictive?"

"Not especially. At least, almost no physical addiction. No withdrawal, no fatalities, no organ failure…"

"Then why?"

"Well, apparently the high is so sensational that regular users fall into a deep depression. Normal life starts to look like absolute garbage by comparison."

"Okay, I get it now. But when do we get to the part where you tell me what I have to do and why?"

"Patience, for God’s sake!" Tote spat. "They banned the Azzulia and the possession of ‘broth,’ which is the substance the Yazzee secretes when Azzulia is nearby. Well, it’s not the ‘raw’ substance; it’s a preparation they boil with other herbs and spices. It’s like a soup."

"I thought people injected it," Ley confessed.

"How are they going to inject a soup?"

"I didn't know it was a soup until a second ago, Tote."

"Whatever… it doesn't matter. The point is that when Earth found out, they banned the trade of the broth and the Azzulia. But not the Yazzee, since that has so many other uses."

"And is this broth dangerous? Have you tried it?" Leynad asked.

"Are you already thinking about getting wasted? Dammit, Ley, this is serious."

"Have you tried it or not?" he insisted, ignoring the lecture.

"Yes! I’ve tried it," Tote admitted, annoyed. "And no, it’s not dangerous. It won't kill you, even if you drink six liters. Though if you drink six liters, you’ll spend a day and a half hallucinating, thinking you’re in wonderland, having mental orgasms constantly, and when it wears off, you’ll want to die just because you have to return to reality. The nostalgia and the rejection of real life will haunt you for weeks. The norm is to have one bowl; you get the same feeling, but for a much shorter time. It hasn't been tested enough to know if it can drive you permanently insane, but I wouldn't risk it…"

"Jesus, Tote. Is it really necessary to cause a public health crisis just to stay on the good side of the owner of Ofenon?"

"Who said anything about the owner of Ofenon?" Tote replied, catching Ley off guard. "This is an assignment from the owner of Nankella."

"Nankella? That’s right nearby, isn't it? A diamond extractor, if I recall correctly…"

"Precisely."

"Fine… so what exactly needs to be done? You’ve explained that Ofenon has a soup that gets you high as a kite, and the plants and so on… but I still don't know what the hell you want from me."

"You really are an idiot when you want to be, Leynad. Fine! I’ll spell it out for you. The owner of Nankella extracts diamonds on the planet," he continued. "It’s the only thing they do there, since it’s a giant rock with no atmosphere, but it’s packed with them. They’ve built several extraction bases and hire seasonal miners. They’re well-paid, given quality housing with all sorts of entertainment. They stay for a few months and then get rotated out. There are only a few permanent staff."

"And why is that?" Leynad asked, suspecting labor exploitation.

"It’s grueling work. Often they sleep down there in the mine; otherwise, they’d spend more time commuting to the base than working. It’s demanding. The owner of Nankella has always had this policy, and whether we like it or not, it’s his, it’s legal, and the people who work there know the deal. After all, six months’ salary there is like six years’ salary elsewhere."

"Okay, and?" Leynad was losing patience. He wanted to know the job.

"I’m getting there," Tote went on. "It turns out many miners come from Ofenon because it’s so close. And the consumption of broth has become popular among them. One of the few permanent employees must be bringing broth to the planet occasionally to keep it circulating. Making a bit of extra cash on the side, of course."

"And what are we doing? Running drugs to the dealer? Seriously?"

"No, you moron! We are taking some Azzulia seeds to the owner of Nankella. He already has Yazzees there, growing in a tank they built specifically for them. He just needs the Azzulias so he can make his own broth."

"Oh! Right!" Leynad replied, looking completely stunned. "So we aren't running drugs to the dealer; we’re taking them to the boss so he can drug the workers. Much better! That makes total sense…"

"Ley, you really are a fool… will you let me finish?"

"You never finish! Fine, go on."

"Several of the permanent staff on Nankella are chemists, and the owner has hired a couple of biologists and an expert underwater farmer. The goal is to create a different kind of broth—a variety that gives a high but doesn't have such devastating aftereffects, one that doesn't make you want to kill yourself the next day."

"Hmm," Leynad was still unconvinced. "You said it was legal… but you also said it’s forbidden to sell Azzulia, and we’re carrying Azzulia. What am I missing?"

"You’re missing the fact that we aren't selling anything," Tote declared. "The seeds are a gift from Ofenon to Nankella. Nowhere is it written that it’s illegal to give them as a gift or to transport them."

"Then why don't they take them themselves?"

"Because even if it isn't illegal, moving Azzulia seeds off-planet on a commercial vessel would require a mountain of permits, time, paperwork, and hassle—not to mention the bad PR if it got out. Our ships have total freedom, as you well know. No one inspects them; no one knows what’s loaded or unloaded."

"So we’re using that privilege to smuggle," Ley noted, incredulous.

"Again! No!" Tote replied, annoyed. "We’re using it to do a good deed and prevent the Galaxy from being flooded with a dangerous drug. The final goal is to genetically modify the plant to make the broth less potent and then reintroduce this variety to planet Ofenon to replace the original Yazzee where possible. The law doesn't allow for the extermination of a species, however dangerous, but it does allow for genetic modification to reduce that danger."

"Hmm." Leynad was still skeptical. Maybe not illegal, but… immoral? He’d seen too many ethics classes to choose a moral compass other than his own, and his told him that if the goal was to replace a dangerous product with a safer one, it was a good act. Ideally, neither would be sold, but he knew he didn't live in a fairy tale. "So there’s no catch?"

"None! The only 'catch' might be the son of the owner of Ofenon, if you run into him. He’s a spoiled brat who thinks he’s the King of the Universe. And there’s only one King of the Universe, and that’s me. AHA HA HA HA!"

"Fine, Tote, I’ll keep that in mind," Ley said, smiling. "I hope this doesn't set me back too much. As you’ve noticed, I have company."

"Oh, yes. A very sweet voice, even when she’s pissed… AHA HA HA… sorry." Suddenly, he turned serious. "Sorry, Ley. I overstep sometimes. Apologize to her for me, okay? I’m sure she’s a great girl."

"She’s amazing, Tote."

"I’m sure of it. I know you have good taste. And if she’s gone with you despite those hideous balls of yours, she must be a saint… AHA HA HA!"

"Hahaha!" Leynad joined in the laughter this time. "Alright, Tote. We’re going to sleep at a hotel on the Ring, and tomorrow I’ll head down to the planet. Where do I go?"

"If you’re on the Ring, take one of the elevators down to the city and ask for Plantation Number Three of Yazz Industries. There’s bound to be a tourist kiosk nearby, or just ask a cabbie. At the plantation, they’ll give you a cargo pod with the seeds. Program it to head to Dalara, unload it, and send it back. From there, head to Nankella. Find any of the bases, whichever is convenient, and just drop off the seeds. They know who to notify. It’ll be simple."

"I hope so. And fast."

"It will be."

"Fine. I’ll call you when the job’s done. Ciao."

"Ciao, Ley. Good luck."

Leynad made a hand gesture and the ship cut the feed. He leaned his head back and laced his fingers behind his neck, sighing deeply. The things one does for family.

"At least he apologized," he suddenly heard from behind him. He jumped and turned around; there was Skyvy, leaning against the cockpit doorframe. "It’s fine, but it’d be better if he didn't make those kinds of jokes."

"Oh! You heard…" Ley said, blushing as he realized she’d also heard him say "she’s amazing." "I told you he wasn't a bad guy. He’ll learn. How long have you been there?"

"Since about the time he was apologizing. Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. So, we’re going to Ofenon?"

"I’m the one who’s sorry, Skyvy. I should have asked you before saying yes."

"It’s okay, Ley. I don't have a job and I’m a guest. I’m living like a queen, though it wouldn't hurt to keep me in the loop," she said, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "I’m going to the shower."

And with that, she vanished through the door. Leynad thanked his lucky stars. "Amazing" was starting to seem like an understatement...

..."

--"Continue reading and experience the original text in Spanish at https://fictograma.com/. Join our open-source community of writers today!"--

President Donald Trump wondered if the U.S. “shouldn’t even be there” when answering questions about the war on Iran on Sunday, claiming that Iran’s military is already totally obliterated as the U.S. and Israel’s bombardments enter their third week with no end in sight. A reporter asked Trump on Sunday about his demands that other countries aid him in trying to force transit through the…

Source

---

From Truthout via this RSS feed

Or do we need another decade before we can call IPod games retro?

From Al Jazeera – Breaking News, World News and Video from Al Jazeera via this RSS feed

Leynad—discoverer of worlds and CEO of the most formidable corporation in the universe—is officially on vacation. Joining him is Skyvy, a new "friend" who is rapidly becoming something more. He has the holiday of a lifetime ahead of him...

The only problem is his partner, Tote, just called with an assignment.

*> The Ofenon Broths is a lighthearted sci-fi romp filled with humor, relatable humans, and an adventure involving a planetary ring, psychoactive soup, a kidnapping, and a high-stakes match of calcio spaziale.

---

Chapter 1: In Which a Call is Received

Leynad was sleeping face down, his body twisted into a bizarre "J" shape. Half his face was buried in the pillow, his mouth hung slightly agape, and a thin silver thread of drool was busy colonizing the bedsheet.

A shrill beep sounded twice in rapid succession. A soft but commanding female voice seemed to emanate from every corner of the room. The ship was issuing a warning.

"Incoming priority call. Incoming priority call..."

Two more beeps rang out, loud and grating. Leynad had no choice but to crack open half an eye and activate one ear and precisely six neurons—just enough to grasp the gravity of the situation. He didn’t have much time; suddenly, a gravelly, booming male voice bellowed from the rafters:

"Ley! Leyyyyy! Wake up, you lazy dog!"

That did it. Leynad was forced into the waking world. He rolled over on the plush anti-grav foam mattress, clutching his head with both hands.

"Hey... Tote... What’s up, man?" He yawned like a hippo, forcing his eyelids to remain at least a sliver open.

"You miserable son of a hyena and a newt! Where are you, baldy?"

"Bah! How the hell should I know, Tote? I'm on vacation, you know that."

"Most people generally know where they’re going on holiday, no offense," Tote said, sounding deeply offensive.

"I know where I’m going. I just haven't arrived yet. I don't know where I am at this exact, precise microsecond." Leynad was now fully awake; Tote’s passive-aggressive needles always got under his skin. "I’m still days away. This is a pleasure cruise, Tote. The ship is on full-auto. Why do you even care where I am? You know perfectly well I’m heading to Earth."

"I know, I know. To 'visit family'... AHA HA HA!" He let out his signature, trademark cackle. "You and I both know you're going to Earth to throw the mother of all parties, my dear Ley."

"So what if I am? That’s exactly the plan. And I’ll see my family while I’m at it. What’s it to you? By the way... you should be calling me 'shaggy.' 'Baldy' is for people with no hair. Like you. Now, are you going to tell me why you're calling?" Ley responded, his voice a cocktail of humor and disdain.

"To find out where you are! I already told you, fish-brain. Is that the right expression, Mr. Know-It-All?" Tote snapped back sarcastically. "Bah! I should just hang up and call someone else..."

"Go ahead! I told you, I’m on vacation. Goodbye—"

"Wait, you blockhead! Come on! It’s nothing, really. I need you to stop somewhere, and it’s right on your way. Well... depends on where you are. That’s why I was asking. God, you’re impatient!"

"Stop somewhere? Where?"

"Just a quick planet-hop. Pick something up, drop it off somewhere else. They're right on your route to Earth. The question is whether you’ve already passed them or not."

"Give me the names and I'll check..." Ley realized he had already been sucked in. "But hey! I’m on vacation!"

"This is vital for the company, Ley..."

"Here we go," Ley grumbled. "I own half the company and I delegate every single administrative and executive decision to you. You do whatever the hell you want as long as you leave me in peace. We've been over this a thousand times."

"Sure, I do what I want, I’m the boss, yadda yadda. But I also carry all the responsibility, Ley. I’ve got the weight of a universe on my shoulders that doesn't even know how to expand properly..."

"Oh, spare me! Don't get philosophical on me, Tote. We have a deal and you always agree to it. You do what you love, I do what I love. You manage; I discover planets. Everybody wins."

"We’ve also discussed more than once that you’re reaching an age where you should be getting a bit more involved in the affairs of the comp—"

"Tote!" Ley cut him off. "Do I have to repeat that I’m on vacation? When I get back, you can call me and lecture me until you’re blue in the face."

"Fine, fine, don't get your knickers in a twist! Let’s start over." Tote sounded slightly more composed. "I need a job done for the firm that requires a ship with an honest, efficient, and hardworking pilot. You only fit the 'has a ship' criteria, but you're my partner, my godson, and you're already right there. Relax, it’s nothing illegal. Well... almost."

"Almost?! Go to hell, Tote! What kind of mess are you trying to drag me into? And more importantly... why?"

"I am talking about a job that is absolutely necessary if we don't want to lose a major client!! Will you just listen for once?!" Tote was back to his usual grating self.

"Well..."

"FOR GOODNESS SAKE!! WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT UP?!"

A female voice crashed into the conversation. This time, it didn't come from the walls; it came from the right side of the mattress. Specifically, it came from Skyvy—a stunning girl with bronze skin, raven hair, and piercing eyes. Leynad had met her a few days prior on the planet Xu An, where he’d stopped by sheer chance.

"Ah, you dog!" Tote roared with laughter while Ley braced for the fallout. "So you're even picking them up along the way now? You certainly don't waste any time, do you! AHA HA HA HA!"

"Excuse me?! What are you implying?" Skyvy shouted, absolutely indignant.

"Tote! No, man! It’s not... Argh! Look, I think I’m near Ofenon. Does that work for you?"

"It works perfectly, because that is exactly where I want you to go," Tote declared, suddenly calm and quiet.

"Give me twenty minutes and I’ll call you back, alright?"

"Is that all it takes for you to have a quickie? AHA HA HA HA!"

"Go to hell, Tote! Dalara, cut the feed!"

The ship obeyed, and the line went dead. Silence filled the room, until Skyvy broke it.

"Who was that pig? Damn it all! Between the two of you, I'm wide awake now!" If it weren't for her sleepy, crusty eyes and her 'hungover witch' hair, her expression would have been truly terrifying.

"I’m sorry, Skyvy," Leynad tried to soothe her. "That’s my partner. Don't take it personally. He’s not as much of an idiot as he sounds. He’s got a good heart, he’s just a bit... blunt, especially with women. But deep down, he’s not like that. If you talked to him for five minutes, I’m sure you’d end up liking him."

"I doubt it. He’s obnoxious."

"He realizes it eventually and tones it down, believe me. It’s just his way—he protects himself by being the loudest person in the room, saying the most outrageous things, cracking the most jokes..."

Leynad saw her expression shift. A playful, spicy smile touched her lips.

"Does he joke more than you? I find that hard to believe."

"Er... well, he caught me while I was still asleep."

"Come over here, then. Let me wake you up properly."

And they had a quickie. It took them less than twenty minutes...

..."

--"Continue reading and experience the original text in Spanish at https://fictograma.com/. Join our open-source community of writers today!"--

Description: An international anti-fascist show run by a Scandinavian nerd, a Slavic alcoholic and an American unc that takes you to the darkest corners of the internet to help you understand the footsoldiers of online right-wing mobilization -- content creators.

The show is hosted by Mike From PA, Yugopnik and Fredda, and can be found wherever you listen to podcasts.

This is a pipeline with a history of major oil spills.

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From Al Jazeera – Breaking News, World News and Video from Al Jazeera via this RSS feed

Reuters news agency reported that Cuba has received only two small vessels carrying oil imports this year, citing SEG ship-tracking data it reviewed.

Earlier this month, a blackout hit two-thirds of the country, mainly in the centre and west, for over a day after a breakdown at the Antonio Guiteras power plant, the island’s largest.

In the remote part of northeastern Utah, in Gilsonite mines, massive cracks are tearing through the earth—stretching for miles, deep and unexplained.

Author: Outer Range

Hi there, I'm looking for good software architecture resources: blog, wiki or community.

I know good enough the basis of OOP and 'Design Pattern' and I'm looking for something more advanced.

One of my goal is to create local first software but anything with network and web archi are welcome too. 🙂