More Than a Machine

Bramble

idk .........................................................

   "I've got to say, this place is a lot nicer than I expected."

  This was no lie. The junk shop looked more like a regular store inside. Everything was neatly folded, carefully placed. The shelves were clean and had recently been dusted. And although most of the merchandise for sale was complete junk, it was presented well. There was even a clothing rack full of fine-looking secondhand clothes. Some of them were goblin-sized, but the majority were human sizes.

  Little Goblin knew how to keep a nice shop. He gave a nod in reply to Stallone. "Breaking stereotypes," he muttered under his breath.

  Stereotypes.

  The word was so large, Stallone hadn't expected to hear it from a little goblin fellow like this. The goblin had only been giving short answers and half-sentences until now.

  Stallone looked up from the rack of clothes he'd been going through. "What kind of stereotypes?"

  The little man shrugged. "Many." He was prepared not to elaborate, until he realized that Stallone was genuinely interested. Then he explained, "Kuende are considered... sloppy. People think we live in holes. Like rats."

  Kuende, Stallone repeated the name in his head. That must be what his people call themselves.

  This, for some reason, was fascinating to him. He'd already learned so much by coming to Triff. So many types of people, so many species. The diversity continued to astound him.

  "This is partly true," the little man continued to say. "But only the Kuende on Triff. Most of them here are messy, yes. Sewer dwellers. But at home--our real home--we lived similar to humans. People here see Kuende and get the wrong idea. Won't give the honest ones business."

  "Huh," Stallone said, thinking this over. "That's too bad. Where is your real home?"

  "Kuendyr." The little man spotted a few particles of dust as he spoke. He hobbled over to a shelf and swiped the dust away. He paused for a moment, before adding with a touch of solemnity, "It was destroyed less than a year ago."

  Stallone raised his eyebrows. "The planet was destroyed? Like, the whole thing?" He'd never heard of such a thing happening. Was it possible?

  "Of course the whole thing," the creature shot him a look. "That is how it works. No morsel left."

  Newly fascinated, Stallone forgot all about the clothes he was searching through. "How?" He questioned. "Why? How does a whole planet get destroyed?"

  Goblin gave him an odd look. Something like annoyance flashed into his eyes. The loss of a planet was not a common thing, but it was a very known thing. Anyone who traveled the universe--or at the very least, had come to Triff--knew the cruelty of the universe.

  "Many things destroy a planet," he stated. "Mining, military, old age. Kuendyr was destroyed by a military group."

  A million questions rang through Stallone's mind. Why? Why would a military destroy a planet? What right did they have? What about the little Kuende guys? Did they all make it off-world? How quickly did it happen, did they have time?

  "Is everyone okay?" Was the first question he asked aloud.

  Silence filled the room.

  The little Kuende stared at Stallone. The question moved him, somehow. This cyborg had asked it with such sincerity, with such a troubled look on his face. Such confusion. So he had empathy, which couldn't be said for most space men. Either that or he was a total idiot.