By the Eight Mothers

In which the arts are weaponized by the revolutionary Kaikaina

Si Mon organizes a spectacle with an unprecedented degree of secrecy around the script. Individual actors and actresses record narration while the actual actions are performed by units of ninety-eight kaikaina using the techniques of mass demonstration. This format and the hype generated by its very secrecy (no one knows how it ends!) results in truly massive crowds gathering for the premiere of Si Mon’s “Untitled Play in Three Acts”.

The first act is familiar revolutionary stuff, compressing the overthrow of the SpaceLords into a single act instead of the usual three. The second act begins with the words “meanwhile in the oversea...” and reveals in wrenching detail the story of eight mothers bound in servitude.

Shouts of shock and horror run through the crowd when the first mother is dismembered by greedy SpaceLords and her young are devoured as caviar. Distress in the audience grows palpable as the second act proceeds. The grouped kaikaina composing the characters are whittled down, sometimes one by one, sometimes in bands of eight. Three mothers die childless; four are horribly mutilated, their bodies shrunken. The last mother hides her clutch and refuses to reveal where she has hidden her eggs. She is being stretched between nine vicious enemies in a heart-stopping cliffhanger when the lights go down on the second act. Then comes a truly revolutionary twist: there is no third act. Powerful spotlights beam out from the stage, and the eight mothers declare over the intercom that they have played their part in a true story, ripped from the headlines; the rest remains unwritten because it has not happened yet. And you, dear brethren... your bodies and collective motions will enact the ending of our tale.

The spotlights black out and in the ensuing darkness, the distress call received from Palux plays -- the real audio, no reenactment, no frills.

For elder generations it inspires old feelings with a depth not seen since the revolution. The youth have never seen or felt anything like it, and take up the propaganda with near-religious ecstasy. Slogans and attitudes that had become stale now feel fresh and relevant to those born since the revolution. “By the eight mothers” becomes a fashionable vow, generally used when promising to accomplish a difficult task by an absurd deadline.

Next Week: What’s Mine Is Ours