“Just put them in the dishwasher,” he growls, pointing to a metal door below one of the cabinets. “You don’t have to wash them by hand like a primitive.”
“Dishwasher?” I walk over and open the metal door, seeing clean dishes on a rack.
“Unload it first, then put the dirty dishes in there and hit the big button on the front,” he growls. “It’s easy.”
It’s strange how often people call something easy when they’ve always known how to do it.
“Okay,” I say, looking around at the cabinets. “I’m sure I can figure out where they all go.”
“I’ll be in the theater when you’re done,” he growls, walking to the door. “Bring a few bottles of grog with you. Get something for yourself if you want.”
I haven’t seen the theater yet. King Lix’tuk pointed it out when he was giving me the grand tour. We didn’t have theaters in Troona. Just an old television at the mayor’s office. I’ve read about theaters in books, though. A place where books come to life, acted out on an enormous screen.
After opening most of the cabinets, I find where the clean dishes go. The dishwasher itself is easy to use. I put all the dishes inside, hit the button, and it doessomething. I can hear water rushing through pipes and filling it. I guess they use a lot more water to wash a few dishes here than we used back home.
Everything in this fortress is too big for me, but I’m not totally helpless. I found a stool I keep in the kitchen to help me reach everything. Elsewhere I resort to standing on my toes or jumping.
“Okay, grog for King Lix’tuk,” I mutter, gathering a few bottles for him. I stare at the fruity drinks in the back of the fridge. “I guess one more wouldn’t hurt.”
Since I’ve had a rather big meal, I’m not feeling the first drink as much as I was. Another one will definitely make me sleepy, and that might be a good thing, since I’m sure it won’t be long until we go to bed.
I walk to the theater door and open it. My jaw drops.
The room is smaller than I expected. Only twenty or so seats, arranged in three rows, but they’re enormous seats, big enough for an orc. They’re upholstered in black leather and look soft enough to sink into. Some of them are reclined, but I’m not sure what keeps them from returning to their upright position. Each seat has a small table attached, perfect for holding drinks.
The screen dominates the wall in front of the seats, stretching from floor to ceiling. It’s already lit up with an image that flickers and moves, colors dancing around the orc king’s face where he sits in the center of the front row. The sound is low, but rich, and seems to be all around me.
The walls are covered in the same dark stone as the rest of Zrogmul, but here, they’re draped with heavy fabric cut from red and black cloth. Artificial torches line the walls, but they’re dimmed to the point they don’t provide much light. Just enough for me to see where I’m going. The ceiling is lower here, which makes the room feel cozier than some of the others.
“Sit,” King Lix’tuk rumbles, eyes fixed on the screen. “I hope you didn’t forget the grog.”
“No, I brought it,” I reply, walking to the front row. I place the bottles of grog on his table, then glance at the seat beside him. “Do you want me to sit here, or should I find somewhere in the back, so I don’t disturb you?”
“Sit wherever you like,” he growls, uncorking the grog.
I look toward the back of the theater, then the front row. I’m not sure if he really means it, but since he offered, I sit in the seat next to him. He shifts, like he’s giving me more room, but doesn’t seem bothered by my presence. Maybe grog makes him hate humans less than he does when he’s sober.
“What are we watching?” I ask, removing the cork and trying my drink. This one tastes like some kind of fruit I’m unfamiliar with. Sweeter than strawberries, but not as tangy.
“You got to read Alexander Pinner’s propaganda,” he growls, sipping his grog. “I’m going to show you ours.”
It’s a movie about The Great War. They have an actor playing King Lix’tuk who has lighter skin and fewer scars, but there’s enough resemblance for me to recognize him.
I take another drink as the movie opens on Uzrirgard before the war. It doesn’t look much different from what I saw from the ship when I arrived. Green valleys, crystalline rivers, and thick forests across the rolling landscape. The cities are a lot smaller. They rise from the ground, buildings of stone and metal that blend with the natural world. The movie shows orcs working in fields, forging weapons, and raising families.
Then human settlements appear. I didn’t realize there were ever human settlements in Uzrirgard, but they bring technology, medical equipment, and communication devices. The movie shows orc and human children playing together, then marriages between the species. The babies born from those unions look asorcishas the king beside me.
“We tried to coexist with them at first,” King Lix’tuk murmurs beside me, his voice rough before he downs more grog. “We were foolish to have done so.”
Human settlements expand. They clear forests for farmland, reroute rivers for factories, and dig massive mines that scar the earth. Orc leaders express concern. The movie shows diplomatic meetings that devolve into shouting. The first drums of war beat in the distance.
Then the humans attack. Armies pillaging and ransacking orc cities. Orcs are caught by surprise and murdered in the streets, even the women and children. Some are captured. Taken to camps where they’re tortured with whips and devices that make the whip seem merciful. The movie doesn’t shy away from thehorror. I have to put my drink down because the gore makes me a bit queasy.
“That’s… awful,” I say, swallowing hard.
“It gets worse,” King Lix’tuk warns.
The battle scenes are brutal, but the tide starts to shift. Orcs raze the human settlements in Uzrirgard. When the humans continue to send ships filled with soldiers, the orcs mobilize and sail across the sea I flew across to get here.