Poem: "Terror to the Evildoers and Joy to the Righteous"
This poem is spillover from the November 3, 2020 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt from ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
curiosity. It also fills the "sense of play" square in my 11-1-20 card for the Sense-Ation Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by librarygeek. It belongs to the Dr. Infanta, Aquariana, and China's Mistake threads in the Polychrome Heroics series.
Warning: This poem contains some intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes frustration, mention of child-shaped sexbots, pedophiles, justifiably lethal Mob violence, reference to mayhem in Mercedes, Uighur refugees, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Terror to the Evildoers and Joy to the Righteous"
[Thursday, February 11, 2016]
Dr. Infanta was still frustrated that
everyone had conspired to keep her
from intervening more directly in China,
all the moreso after "John Gray" had
raised the alarm about the childbots.
So Dr. Infanta had demanded a favor
from the Puppetmaster, who had
been eager to grant anything that
would keep her from hunting down
all of the pedophiles in person.
Instead, they sent enforcers
who understood the situation.
Now Ruggiero knelt in front of her
holding the traditional lidded basket.
"Are they all dead now?" said Dr. Infanta.
"All the ones we could catch in the act or
track down from evidence," Ruggiero said
as he removed the lid from the basket.
It was full of broken watches. Some
of the wristwatches were mostly intact
except for a cracked face and smears of
blood inside. Others had been crushed
beyond recognition except for the fact
that they were in the basket. There was
even a Chinese ball pocket watch with
the zodiac animals around its ornate face.
"Are the children all safe?" Dr. Infanta said.
"That's the most important thing now."
"We rescued all of the childbots that
we could find," said Ruggiero. "There
may be others unlisted, or even modified
from their factory standard. A watch
will be kept in case more emerge."
"Well done," Dr. Infanta said.
"There was no point in seeking
justice from any Chinese courts, so
thank you for cleaning up that mess.
You may dump out the trash --"
She tapped the basket. "-- on
that garbage island where
the nanites will recycle it."
"Justice," Ruggiero murmured.
"It's been a long time since I did
this much wet work, but I am
grateful for the opportunity to
see pedophiles brought down
at the hands of survivors."
Dr. Infanta bared her teeth.
"When justice is done, then it
brings terror to the evildoers and
joy to the righteous," she said.
"Yes," said Ruggiero. "It will be
good to get back to my own people."
"Ah, about that," said Dr. Infanta.
"There was more than a bit of
a ruckus in Mercedes recently."
"Again?" Ruggiero said, scowling.
"What happened this time?"
"Some idiot hired a set of thugs
to kidnap Edison Finn," she said.
"Shiv put a stop to that nonsense.
Of course they had to be killed,
but Gigio took it into his head
to violate medical neutrality, and
then Rinaldo sent Leo to notify
the Finns of improved safety."
Ruggiero swore under his breath.
"Yeah, they didn't take it well at all,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Fortunately Shiv has
accepted the apology, but Leo is still kinda
crushed after Boss Finn stomped him."
"Thank you for telling me about it,"
said Ruggiero. "I will do what I can
to help pick up the pieces there."
After that, Dr. Infanta really needed
to focus on bringing joy for a while.
So she asked Lorry to take her
to Panahgah, the island that
she had bought for the Uighurs.
They landed in the arrival pavilion,
which had a compass rose inlaid
in the boards of the deck as well as
a Muslim prayer rug in another corner.
The island manager Maakana Manik Fulu
met them there. "Welcome to Panahgah.
We are grateful you bought the island."
"It was necessary," said Dr. Infanta.
"May we look around the place?"
"Of course," said Manik. "Much
is still unfinished, but I have hired
new staff and work is progressing."
So Dr. Infanta explored Panahgah.
There were no paved roads on the island,
only boardwalks and paths of soft white sand.
People walked or rode bicycles everywhere.
Moto Electric Vehicles from Florida had
donated four of their models: an ambulance,
a shuttlebus, a delivery truck, and a utility truck.
Since the island would need at least a few more,
they would probably buy those from Moto,
making it a very savvy business decision
as well as a swipe at their Chinese rivals.
Dr. Infanta saw the utility truck the most,
carrying supplies for the renovations.
Café Umi was open to feed the locals
as well as the construction workers.
"You should eat something,
miss," Lorry reminded her.
Dr. Infanta paused to grab
a few fingerling bananas and
a muffin dotted with chocolate chips.
The pool bar was being gutted of
all its alcoholic paraphernalia and
converted into a juice bar instead.
Not far beyond it, Gretchen Ehrenreich
was directing the work on Art Haven.
It had outdoor studio space for
plein air classes, indoor studio space
for classes in inclement weather, and
the beginnings of an art gallery.
Art Haven would attract visitors
to the island so its residents
wouldn't be too isolated, and
it would also give them ways
to work through their issues
without needing to use words.
Gretchen was formidable, even
dressed down in black capris
and an art festival T-shirt
that had seen better days.
"Hello, Gretchen," said Dr. Infanta.
"How is the work going here?"
Like any other passionate person,
when given an opening like that,
Gretchen tended to gush.
She had already lined up
not just one but three people
to serve as artists in residence.
One of the men used acrylics
which he manipulated with
his faint telekinetic powers
to create beautiful abstracts.
The woman worked in
watercolor and painted
underwater scenes.
Another man favored
natural materials such
as coffee, tea, or sepia
to create subtle paintings.
The last in particular was
a stunningly apt match, given
the similarity of coffee or tea to
traditional Asian ink painting.
"Come inside and look around,"
Gretchen said, winding down a bit.
Indoors a big open room held
little except long tables and chairs,
although one end had a built-in counter
and tall chairs for people who wanted
to use computers for digital art.
"We only have one room finished
and hung, but it looks very promising,"
Gretchen said as she led the way.
Two of the walls held abstracts
while the other showed scenes of
sea life done in exquisite detail.
"It's beautiful," said Dr. Infanta.
"I look forward to coming back
when this is all finished and
the artists are giving lessons."
"Thank you," said Gretchen,
"but if you think this is impressive,
just wait until you've seen what
what my husband has done."
Gerrit did urban design, and he
was overseeing the renovations.
Dr. Infanta went to see the mosque
next, tucked amidst the villas
under the scattered palms.
It was a plain white building on
the outside, matching the sand.
Inside, the mosque reeked
of new paint and new carpet,
all the windows and doors open
to let the fresh tropical breeze
clear away some of the fumes.
There were materials that didn't
smell so much, but few of them
could withstand the harsh wear
from sun, sand, and salt that
came from living on an island.
As Dr. Infanta watched, a team
of workers unrolled the last of
the new carpet. It was dyed in
a deep spruce green with glints
of gold marking out the rows.
"You've done so much with
this place," Dr. Infanta said
to Gerrit. "I'm certain that
the Uighurs will be pleased."
"They already are, when
they're not panicking over
a mosque in broad daylight,"
Gerrit said. "In time, they
will get used to being free
to worship as they wish."
"People are moving in
already?" said Dr. Infanta.
"How many refugees are here?"
"A few dozen so far," said Gerrit.
"The apartments are fine and
so are most of the villas. It's
the amenities that take time
to return to their full function."
"Well, at least they can eat
at Café Umi," said Dr. Infanta.
"Next week, they'll have even better,"
Gerrit said smugly. "We have found
an Uighur chef to start a restaurant.
The old Sunset Bar is being turned
into the restaurant Kün Pétish,
which means 'sunset' in Uighur."
Dr. Infanta clapped her hands.
"How wonderful!" she said.
"We'll have to stop there
once the restaurant opens."
"If you go down to Avi Spa, you
can meet the new nutritionist,"
Gerrit added. "No doctor yet,
but Holhi Saalima Takkhan has
a certificate in Primary Health Care
as well as Public Health Nutrition."
"I'd love to do that," said Dr. Infanta.
"Would you prefer to walk or
teleport, miss?" said Lorry.
"Walk, of course," she replied.
"It's such a beautiful day."
The spa was at the far end of
the island, the only thing farther
being the Lighthouse Restaurant,
but the walk there was relaxing.
The sand path gave way to
a boardwalk that connected
the buildings making up the spa.
It had a central treatment room,
a yoga pavilion, and six huts
that formed the treatment pods.
Saalima had her office
in the same building as
the central treatment room.
So far it included a bookcase
with books on nutrition and health,
a desk and chair, and a collection
of very realistic-looking foods.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Infanta," she said.
"Your office looks nice. Do
you need anything else?"
"I'm Holhi Saalima Takkhan;
please call me Saalima," she said.
"I need a computer, but there
aren't enough to go around yet."
"Oh, that I can just fix,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Lorry,
please fetch one for her."
Lorry gave her a look,
because nobody liked
leaving her alone, but he
popped out and right back
with a large-screen computer.
"Thank you," said Saalima.
"I'm trying to get everything
set up to care for refugees
who probably haven't had
good nutrition in a while."
"Check for food allergies or
other issues," Dr. Infanta said.
"China wouldn't let the Uighurs
keep halal, but some Muslims
and Jews can't digest pork well."
"Ah yes, that happens here,"
Saalima said, making a note.
"It's like how some people from
inland countries can't eat seafood."
"I'll leave you to your work for now,
but if you need anything else medical,
pass the word and I'll take care
of that," Dr. Infanta offered.
When they went back outside,
she saw that several people had
started a game of beach volleyball.
It appealed to her sense of play,
but she hesitated to butt in.
One woman paused to say,
"You're a little small for our teams,
but if you want to play something,
drop by Planet Trekkers. There are
a few children on the island now."
"I'll check it out, thanks,"
Dr. Infanta said, and headed
back the way they had come.
They passed a young family,
mother and father holding
a toddling girl between them
as she tried to learn how
to walk on unfamiliar sand,
squealing with laughter.
Planet Trekkers was a line
of children's clubs sponsored by
the Get a Life Program along with
the World Citizens Association.
They appeared at many resorts
and other tourist locations.
This one had a deck and
pool outside, along with
an indoor play area.
The only other children
were a pair of preschoolers
sound asleep on a bench.
A college-age girl wearing
a hot pink top and black skirt
was keeping an eye on the kids.
"Hi, I'm Stag Leap," she said.
"It's quiet here today, but if
you want to play, I'm sure we
can think of something fun."
Lorry tried and failed
to muffle a laugh.
"I'm Dr. Infanta,"
she said, smiling.
"Lorry here is amused
because I'm an expert
on children's folklore,
including lots of games."
"Oh, what beach games do
you like?" said Stag Leap. "I'm
building a collection of things
that need little or no gear,
because the old resort took
all of their stuff with them."
"I still love the old games
that you can make and play
anywhere," said Dr. Infanta.
"I'll buy a few new games
to send back here, though --
Bulzibucket and Tidalball
are good inventions."
"How about hopscotch
for today?" Lorry suggested.
"It's easy to draw in sand."
"As long as you promise
not to faceplant this time,"
Dr. Infanta said, eyeing, him.
"That was once!" he protested.
"We'll just be careful then,"
said Stag Leap. "Let's do
Snail, it looks like a seashell."
So they drew the spiral design
and then found different shells
to toss as their markers.
It turned out that Stag Leap
was a teleporter like Lorry,
so the two of them popped
around the board while
Dr. Infanta had to hop,
which made the game
very nearly equal.
That suited her sense
of play quite nicely.
After they all got tired,
Stag Leap made everyone
sandwiches with honey,
peanut butter, and bananas.
Dr. Infanta ate three of them,
washed down with mineral water.
And she wasn't thinking of China at all.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, content, and location notes appear elsewhere.
curiosity. It also fills the "sense of play" square in my 11-1-20 card for the Sense-Ation Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by librarygeek. It belongs to the Dr. Infanta, Aquariana, and China's Mistake threads in the Polychrome Heroics series.Warning: This poem contains some intense and controversial topics. Highlight to read the warnings, some of which are spoilers. It includes frustration, mention of child-shaped sexbots, pedophiles, justifiably lethal Mob violence, reference to mayhem in Mercedes, Uighur refugees, and other challenges. If these are sensitive issues for you, please consider your tastes and headspace before reading onward.
"Terror to the Evildoers and Joy to the Righteous"
[Thursday, February 11, 2016]
Dr. Infanta was still frustrated that
everyone had conspired to keep her
from intervening more directly in China,
all the moreso after "John Gray" had
raised the alarm about the childbots.
So Dr. Infanta had demanded a favor
from the Puppetmaster, who had
been eager to grant anything that
would keep her from hunting down
all of the pedophiles in person.
Instead, they sent enforcers
who understood the situation.
Now Ruggiero knelt in front of her
holding the traditional lidded basket.
"Are they all dead now?" said Dr. Infanta.
"All the ones we could catch in the act or
track down from evidence," Ruggiero said
as he removed the lid from the basket.
It was full of broken watches. Some
of the wristwatches were mostly intact
except for a cracked face and smears of
blood inside. Others had been crushed
beyond recognition except for the fact
that they were in the basket. There was
even a Chinese ball pocket watch with
the zodiac animals around its ornate face.
"Are the children all safe?" Dr. Infanta said.
"That's the most important thing now."
"We rescued all of the childbots that
we could find," said Ruggiero. "There
may be others unlisted, or even modified
from their factory standard. A watch
will be kept in case more emerge."
"Well done," Dr. Infanta said.
"There was no point in seeking
justice from any Chinese courts, so
thank you for cleaning up that mess.
You may dump out the trash --"
She tapped the basket. "-- on
that garbage island where
the nanites will recycle it."
"Justice," Ruggiero murmured.
"It's been a long time since I did
this much wet work, but I am
grateful for the opportunity to
see pedophiles brought down
at the hands of survivors."
Dr. Infanta bared her teeth.
"When justice is done, then it
brings terror to the evildoers and
joy to the righteous," she said.
"Yes," said Ruggiero. "It will be
good to get back to my own people."
"Ah, about that," said Dr. Infanta.
"There was more than a bit of
a ruckus in Mercedes recently."
"Again?" Ruggiero said, scowling.
"What happened this time?"
"Some idiot hired a set of thugs
to kidnap Edison Finn," she said.
"Shiv put a stop to that nonsense.
Of course they had to be killed,
but Gigio took it into his head
to violate medical neutrality, and
then Rinaldo sent Leo to notify
the Finns of improved safety."
Ruggiero swore under his breath.
"Yeah, they didn't take it well at all,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Fortunately Shiv has
accepted the apology, but Leo is still kinda
crushed after Boss Finn stomped him."
"Thank you for telling me about it,"
said Ruggiero. "I will do what I can
to help pick up the pieces there."
After that, Dr. Infanta really needed
to focus on bringing joy for a while.
So she asked Lorry to take her
to Panahgah, the island that
she had bought for the Uighurs.
They landed in the arrival pavilion,
which had a compass rose inlaid
in the boards of the deck as well as
a Muslim prayer rug in another corner.
The island manager Maakana Manik Fulu
met them there. "Welcome to Panahgah.
We are grateful you bought the island."
"It was necessary," said Dr. Infanta.
"May we look around the place?"
"Of course," said Manik. "Much
is still unfinished, but I have hired
new staff and work is progressing."
So Dr. Infanta explored Panahgah.
There were no paved roads on the island,
only boardwalks and paths of soft white sand.
People walked or rode bicycles everywhere.
Moto Electric Vehicles from Florida had
donated four of their models: an ambulance,
a shuttlebus, a delivery truck, and a utility truck.
Since the island would need at least a few more,
they would probably buy those from Moto,
making it a very savvy business decision
as well as a swipe at their Chinese rivals.
Dr. Infanta saw the utility truck the most,
carrying supplies for the renovations.
Café Umi was open to feed the locals
as well as the construction workers.
"You should eat something,
miss," Lorry reminded her.
Dr. Infanta paused to grab
a few fingerling bananas and
a muffin dotted with chocolate chips.
The pool bar was being gutted of
all its alcoholic paraphernalia and
converted into a juice bar instead.
Not far beyond it, Gretchen Ehrenreich
was directing the work on Art Haven.
It had outdoor studio space for
plein air classes, indoor studio space
for classes in inclement weather, and
the beginnings of an art gallery.
Art Haven would attract visitors
to the island so its residents
wouldn't be too isolated, and
it would also give them ways
to work through their issues
without needing to use words.
Gretchen was formidable, even
dressed down in black capris
and an art festival T-shirt
that had seen better days.
"Hello, Gretchen," said Dr. Infanta.
"How is the work going here?"
Like any other passionate person,
when given an opening like that,
Gretchen tended to gush.
She had already lined up
not just one but three people
to serve as artists in residence.
One of the men used acrylics
which he manipulated with
his faint telekinetic powers
to create beautiful abstracts.
The woman worked in
watercolor and painted
underwater scenes.
Another man favored
natural materials such
as coffee, tea, or sepia
to create subtle paintings.
The last in particular was
a stunningly apt match, given
the similarity of coffee or tea to
traditional Asian ink painting.
"Come inside and look around,"
Gretchen said, winding down a bit.
Indoors a big open room held
little except long tables and chairs,
although one end had a built-in counter
and tall chairs for people who wanted
to use computers for digital art.
"We only have one room finished
and hung, but it looks very promising,"
Gretchen said as she led the way.
Two of the walls held abstracts
while the other showed scenes of
sea life done in exquisite detail.
"It's beautiful," said Dr. Infanta.
"I look forward to coming back
when this is all finished and
the artists are giving lessons."
"Thank you," said Gretchen,
"but if you think this is impressive,
just wait until you've seen what
what my husband has done."
Gerrit did urban design, and he
was overseeing the renovations.
Dr. Infanta went to see the mosque
next, tucked amidst the villas
under the scattered palms.
It was a plain white building on
the outside, matching the sand.
Inside, the mosque reeked
of new paint and new carpet,
all the windows and doors open
to let the fresh tropical breeze
clear away some of the fumes.
There were materials that didn't
smell so much, but few of them
could withstand the harsh wear
from sun, sand, and salt that
came from living on an island.
As Dr. Infanta watched, a team
of workers unrolled the last of
the new carpet. It was dyed in
a deep spruce green with glints
of gold marking out the rows.
"You've done so much with
this place," Dr. Infanta said
to Gerrit. "I'm certain that
the Uighurs will be pleased."
"They already are, when
they're not panicking over
a mosque in broad daylight,"
Gerrit said. "In time, they
will get used to being free
to worship as they wish."
"People are moving in
already?" said Dr. Infanta.
"How many refugees are here?"
"A few dozen so far," said Gerrit.
"The apartments are fine and
so are most of the villas. It's
the amenities that take time
to return to their full function."
"Well, at least they can eat
at Café Umi," said Dr. Infanta.
"Next week, they'll have even better,"
Gerrit said smugly. "We have found
an Uighur chef to start a restaurant.
The old Sunset Bar is being turned
into the restaurant Kün Pétish,
which means 'sunset' in Uighur."
Dr. Infanta clapped her hands.
"How wonderful!" she said.
"We'll have to stop there
once the restaurant opens."
"If you go down to Avi Spa, you
can meet the new nutritionist,"
Gerrit added. "No doctor yet,
but Holhi Saalima Takkhan has
a certificate in Primary Health Care
as well as Public Health Nutrition."
"I'd love to do that," said Dr. Infanta.
"Would you prefer to walk or
teleport, miss?" said Lorry.
"Walk, of course," she replied.
"It's such a beautiful day."
The spa was at the far end of
the island, the only thing farther
being the Lighthouse Restaurant,
but the walk there was relaxing.
The sand path gave way to
a boardwalk that connected
the buildings making up the spa.
It had a central treatment room,
a yoga pavilion, and six huts
that formed the treatment pods.
Saalima had her office
in the same building as
the central treatment room.
So far it included a bookcase
with books on nutrition and health,
a desk and chair, and a collection
of very realistic-looking foods.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Infanta," she said.
"Your office looks nice. Do
you need anything else?"
"I'm Holhi Saalima Takkhan;
please call me Saalima," she said.
"I need a computer, but there
aren't enough to go around yet."
"Oh, that I can just fix,"
said Dr. Infanta. "Lorry,
please fetch one for her."
Lorry gave her a look,
because nobody liked
leaving her alone, but he
popped out and right back
with a large-screen computer.
"Thank you," said Saalima.
"I'm trying to get everything
set up to care for refugees
who probably haven't had
good nutrition in a while."
"Check for food allergies or
other issues," Dr. Infanta said.
"China wouldn't let the Uighurs
keep halal, but some Muslims
and Jews can't digest pork well."
"Ah yes, that happens here,"
Saalima said, making a note.
"It's like how some people from
inland countries can't eat seafood."
"I'll leave you to your work for now,
but if you need anything else medical,
pass the word and I'll take care
of that," Dr. Infanta offered.
When they went back outside,
she saw that several people had
started a game of beach volleyball.
It appealed to her sense of play,
but she hesitated to butt in.
One woman paused to say,
"You're a little small for our teams,
but if you want to play something,
drop by Planet Trekkers. There are
a few children on the island now."
"I'll check it out, thanks,"
Dr. Infanta said, and headed
back the way they had come.
They passed a young family,
mother and father holding
a toddling girl between them
as she tried to learn how
to walk on unfamiliar sand,
squealing with laughter.
Planet Trekkers was a line
of children's clubs sponsored by
the Get a Life Program along with
the World Citizens Association.
They appeared at many resorts
and other tourist locations.
This one had a deck and
pool outside, along with
an indoor play area.
The only other children
were a pair of preschoolers
sound asleep on a bench.
A college-age girl wearing
a hot pink top and black skirt
was keeping an eye on the kids.
"Hi, I'm Stag Leap," she said.
"It's quiet here today, but if
you want to play, I'm sure we
can think of something fun."
Lorry tried and failed
to muffle a laugh.
"I'm Dr. Infanta,"
she said, smiling.
"Lorry here is amused
because I'm an expert
on children's folklore,
including lots of games."
"Oh, what beach games do
you like?" said Stag Leap. "I'm
building a collection of things
that need little or no gear,
because the old resort took
all of their stuff with them."
"I still love the old games
that you can make and play
anywhere," said Dr. Infanta.
"I'll buy a few new games
to send back here, though --
Bulzibucket and Tidalball
are good inventions."
"How about hopscotch
for today?" Lorry suggested.
"It's easy to draw in sand."
"As long as you promise
not to faceplant this time,"
Dr. Infanta said, eyeing, him.
"That was once!" he protested.
"We'll just be careful then,"
said Stag Leap. "Let's do
Snail, it looks like a seashell."
So they drew the spiral design
and then found different shells
to toss as their markers.
It turned out that Stag Leap
was a teleporter like Lorry,
so the two of them popped
around the board while
Dr. Infanta had to hop,
which made the game
very nearly equal.
That suited her sense
of play quite nicely.
After they all got tired,
Stag Leap made everyone
sandwiches with honey,
peanut butter, and bananas.
Dr. Infanta ate three of them,
washed down with mineral water.
And she wasn't thinking of China at all.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, content, and location notes appear elsewhere.