Chapter 1: I am not a dictator

I am not a dictator.

Despite what the world might have you believe, I do not thrive on the tears of my children nor do I hold absolute control over their lives.

Our country merely exhibits a closeness that some foreigners find unsettling, thus raising rumors that they are being mind controlled and oppressed.

Many times a year an envoy from the SRO (Species Rights Organization) is sent down to inspect the truthfulness of these rumors and assess the need for further intervention. And despite my best attempts to show them that my children do not need to be freed from their supposed 'dictatorship', they leave with disapproving expressions and return the next year.

It's all very humiliating.

I don't know what part of my country rubs other species the wrong way, but we are very much disliked and discriminated against by the people of other countries.

My many attempts to form diplomatic relations with these counties and come to an understanding amidst our differences have all been unsuccessful and are often politely declined.

Although the export and import of goods have not ceased, my paranoia that someday they might has resulted in me spending centuries making my country self-sufficient enough before the end of our isolation that no lasting consequences would be felt if they ever did.

I've even found a way to create fuel from our refined fecal waste. Essentially devoiding the need for imported energy and saving the nation billions in the process. Although this fuel remains an option available only for my clansmen since our excretions are…unique in composition, a holiday was created to celebrate the progress we've made from the time we first created a fire in the caves.

My children love parties, so the event was celebrated for three days, stopping only at the beginning of the work week.

It was truly a fun three days.

The money saved from the discovery has been spent on upgrading the homes of clansmen living in downtrodden neighborhoods, updating the salaries of workers whose labor value exceeds their pay, and starting a trust fund for the clansmen who are struggling to feed their offspring during the hibernation of their partner.

All in all, some very good causes to spend a couple billion dollars on.

At least, I would have believed they were, had the media from other countries not found a way to twist my intentions into something much more unsavory.

"Igetis Cyl, thank you for coming on the show."

The interviewer says as I sit a little precariously into the soft chair provided, the previous one flattened by my weight and size. It must be my hundredth time interviewing in this studio, and I can't fathom why they never manage to get the chair size right. Mrs. Hugh and I are sat adjacent to each other, with a lovely little desk between us, a large projector at the front, and an audience in the back. Brown hair slicked back to expose her sharp features and dressed in a blue striped pantsuit, she radiates her intentions of taking this interview very seriously. I need to find a way to convey my true reason for creating the new fuel without revealing my suspicions and coming off as nonthreatening as possible.

"Thank you for having me on such short notice! It's always a pleasure to visit this beautiful country."

Mrs. Hugh, the co-owner of one of the most watched entertainment programs on the continent, has been a regular interviewer of mine since my country left its state of isolation.

"Since the last time we spoke, you have been involved in what a few are calling your biggest scandal this year, I find this quite humorous since we spoke last month, but there are just so many interesting new things being discussed…I don't even know where to begin."

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Saying I 'please don't' would come off as rude. And saying 'I really don't want to be here either' would also come off as rude, so I settle for a more amicable option.

"Please, go ahead. I'm happy to answer any question you have!"

Well, at least any questions I can't subtly deflect.

"In that case, let's start with your company's launch of a new brand of candy that adjusts your mindset into a…happier state." She glances toward the projector, and the screen fades into an image of the long lines in front of one of the Yummyzoomy candy shops. "According to the data just released by HDA, the ingredients used in making one of these joyful delights contain a large number of plants known for their hallucinogenic effects and after a long period of usage can lead to severe addiction." She turns to face me, "Tell us, Igetis Cyl, what were your intentions in creating such horrible, pardon my language, drugs in the forms of childlike treats?"

I stroke the pink orb embedded in my palm, my smile turning placid as my brain accesses the situation of my clones stationed at home and returning with the important information that they're having a better time than me.

"Well, I'll admit…pandering to children across the continent has never been my intention and I apologize if it ever came across as such. You see, my people sometimes fall into spontaneous little bouts of sadness that can last the entirety of their second growth sprout-" Her perfectly manicured brow raises.

"Pardon my interruption, but does your species' growth sprout not last a period of eight to ten years?" Sounds of exclamation erupt from the audience at the back.

"Yes, but-"

"So essentially, your citizens are depressed, and in the place of acquiring a professional therapist and a good support system, you created candy for them to get high on?"

The whole studio quiets down at the question as if they couldn't believe what they're hearing, as if they know enough about my people to make conjectures on their biology and mental health. Which has actually been a sore point of mine for some years now since NO, my children do not need help and are perfectly fine thanks for asking.

"Mrs. Hugh I apologize but I'll have to strongly disagree with your wording of the situation since my people are not depressed nor do they get high to tide through anything of the sort." Taking a deep breath, unpleasant words that have been repeated hundreds of times now spills from my lips like putrid honey. "As Crlyans we are genetically unable to process such negative emotions. These candies merely balance the lows felt during the second growth sprout when our minds are most easily influenced by the environment we live in." Objections arise from some members of the audience and Mrs. Hugh's features grow into a familiar expression of distaste, but I plaster on my smile and continue,

"After an unfortunate incident when a percentage of citizens in their second growth sprout chose the darkness during the early years of our nation, I have endeavored to prevent the recurrence of such a horrible event from ever reoccurring. So every one of my citizens has been vaccinated yearly with the same substances used in creating these treats in the hopes that they would always see the beauty of life and prevent them from ever reaching the point of such extremes.

The introduction of the candy to the public was done with the belief that if my people are regularly able to get more of the substance into their bloodstream to complement the vaccine, they would be able to survive integration into an environment where negativity is prevalent without being mentally affected. These treats were never intended to be exported products. So while I understand your fears of addiction, be rest assured that they are only effective on specific blood types and are harmless to members of other species."

At the end of my tirade, the studio becomes silent and Mrs. Hugh's expression turns blank, a marked improvement from her previous distaste but unhappy otherwise. Then maintaining eye contact with me, she waves to the camera and exits her seat, marking the end of the interview.

Although on my way out I could hear the less-than-pleasant whispers of the audience, I believe it all went pretty well. My team of advisors were honestly prepared for her to ask me something about my thoughts on how the new power source might destroy the pre-existing fossil fuel industry. Or about my plans for launching a social media platform that automatically filters out negative content from other counties. Even the fallout from creating a new missile that could essentially destroy our continent in the case of an apocalypse being had been prepared for, but nope!

She cared more about the candy.

So overall, a positive experience.

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