The Characterisation of Annabelle le Roux

Chapter Thirty-One: Pick your battles

Annabelle waited in the dock. The ship had a big belly. She could hear the voices of the Mamlish, they sounded strange, like those of a foreign land.

"That attack was intense" she heard the one say. "But now they have just let us into their dock, like we didn't notice their bullets."

"This place is savage," came the reply of another Mamlish. "This place is so savage that they murdered their first humble servant with a shard of glass and then tied up their second up with nets."

"I heard that it is just one chick, the rest of the island is meek" the first said.

"The rest of the island busted her out. The humble servant had signed her death warrant and she was weak and imprisoned. Then some of the shepherdless broke into the compound and set her free. They are not so meek after all."

"Where is everyone?" the first asked.

Annabelle jumped out and kicked the men in the heads. "Thanks for the guns" she said. "Where is your leader."

The men looked confused and pointed in opposite directions, she heard the sound of boots coming towards her. She jumped out of the way, over the men's bodies and then ran up to the cabin. She entered the control room.

A man was sitting in a rotating chair, staring at six different screens.

"Ah Annabelle" he said "At least according to my notes. We've been expecting you."

"Why did you come back" she wanted answers and was therefore not ready to kill him just yet.

"Zilby has some valuable markets" he said slowly. "We wouldn't want to lose that. We've also put a sizable investment into the orange industry. We don't want to have winter shortages on the mainland. Now do we?"

"We don't want to be your market," said Annabelle. "We don't want your stuff"

"Then why on screen three, can I see four men breaking into our hull and attempting to steal our canned peaches?"

"We don't want to be forced to buy your stuff." answered Annabelle.

"Yes, I can see that – stealing is more your style," the man commented. "But we can't .... NO NOT THE BULLETS"

But the men on the screen were nowhere near the bullets at least as far as Annabelle could see.

"I thought that the Mamlish prided themselves on being polite," said Annabelle.

"Touché'" replied the man. "Now why haven't you tried to kill me yet?"

"Where is your real leader?" asked Annabelle.

"Am I not convincing?" asked the man. "My overlord is still in Delta. Bless his heart, quite mad, I guess that is why he sent me over to this crazy land"

"I mean – who is charge of the Mamlish that have been sent to Zilby" asked Annabelle with some frustration.

"We are all servants" said the man and bowed his head.

"But you also believe in hierarchy" answered Annabelle.

"There is a complicated system based on merit, prestige and connections. I wouldn't worry your head about it though – you are not in the running."

Annabelle lifted up her hand and shot him in the face. She was getting nowhere with him.

James felt oddly nervous, but he did it anyway.

"Hello, James" came Alicia's cheerful voice.

"Hey Alicia. How's life going?"

"Great, I've been so busy. I had to organise this work function, but half the people don't drink and the other half of the people refuse to come unless they can get raving drunk. So politics, politics politics. Anycase the theme was blue, which everybody complained was a bit vague, but nobody wanted to go with mermaids, because we're so far away from the sea."