3. The Tea Sea

Ajay and Jefizon sat behind the window again, looking at a Casbrita messenger that announced new idiotic laws on the town square. Behind them sat Wasserbox, who studied the military map. Fuja, the native he’d brought, walked around them and seemed ever present in the café.

The first new law made it illegal to found new cities outside of the colonies. The current colonies were just a tiny piece of Elwar; further from the coast, it was just empty hills and grass plains. Casbrita had stumbled into so much land they didn’t know what to do with it.

The second new law said, with many nice words, that Casbrita was allowed to do with the colonies whatever they pleased. Their laws were more important than colonial laws. If they said something should happen, then it happened.

The probably did so to support their final new law. That contained a large package of taxes on everything they had to import from Casbrita: paper, glass, oil, and of course their beloved tea.

Wasserbox growled. “An invasion of our rights and privileges!”

“Say it, my good man, say it,” Jefizon said, distracted by a book and drinking tea.

“We must not give in to the actions of a tyrant!” Wasserbox said, getting red-faced and also drinking tea. “Or we’ll become as tame and abject as slaves, the other-coloreds over whom we rule with such nonchalance!”

Jefizon frowned. “Shouldn’t you write our speeches?”

“No,” said Ajay immediately. “I write those. And Wasserbox … don’t think you’ll ever get my trust. Only a spy so clearly plays their passion against the enemy.”

He left the room. Wasserbox shrugged, marked a spot on the map, and walked outside.

Jefizon looked at Fuja, who tried to play a simple melody on the piano. Since their first meeting, he’d never entered the café without her being there.

“Should you not go home?” he asked.

She looked to the side in shock, as if ashamed of her bad piano playing. “What do you think? That I have a fold-up tepee waiting outside for me?”

“Well, my good woman, I don’t know. Surely you come from somewhere?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes red. “A poor group of natives exterminated by colonists. They took our freedom.”

Jefizon shut his book and sipped more tea. “I am sorry to hear that. But, well, logically speaking, they have the freedom to exterminate you too then, don’t they?”

Fuja glared at him. “Are you serious?”

“What is freedom to you then? That you may do as you please, but not others? You had the freedom to defend yourself better!”

“Oh, screw you. We had spears! They had guns!”

“No need to get so angry, my good woman,” he said. “At least I understand why you fight with us.”

“We’re doing far too little! You … you sit here all day, watching through the window, playing card games!”

“Yes, and if we just walk into those soldiers without a plan—”

Fuja shut the piano lid with a bang. “All of you are rich idiots. And that has cut you off of reality.”

Jefizon was often teased for being the poorest of them all, unable to control even his finances. His obsession with buying things was mostly to blame, though, and even then he was still rich to most.

“What … what are you saying?”

“The animals on the streets, they want action now. They want food now. Not when a bunch of rich boys decides it’s time.” Fuja rose and came within an inch of Jefizon’s face. He grew nervous, especially when she grabbed his hand. “You have the time and space to start a real fight against your oppressors. So do it.”

“Ajay would not agree. Not so fast.”

“Screw Ajay.”

“You natives do have a lot of problems with the idea of hierarchy, don’t you?”

Fuja spilled his tea, slapped him in the face and walked away.

“Sorry! I …” Jefizon stumbled after her and made her pause in the doorway. “I … my good woman, did anyone ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?”

Her expression became unreadable. She blushed while furious. Then she ran away.

Jefizon tried to follow, but learned how right Fuja was. What was the last time he had ran? His stamina was terrible. Fuja had no such troubles.

By the time he reached another square, placed before an imposing church, she’d already made a ruckus. One lonely Casbrita soldier guarded the square and was now peppered by snow balls. The attackers yelled that Casbrita had to disappear and that they wouldn’t pay any of the taxes.

The soldier quickly received support, but so did the rebels. Snow balls became ice balls, became stones, became anything sharp and heavy they could find.

The support for the soldiers quickly ceased. Apparently, only ten Casbrita soldiers patrolled this entire neighborhood. Just as Jefizon thought: Casbrita did not control them, not really.

The angry mob grew and grew, more and more furious. Fuja stood somewhere in their center. Maybe she hadn’t started it, but she sure made it worse.

Jefizon fought a way through the mob. The soldiers kept their discipline, guns down, and suffered it all with tired eyes.

“Fuja! Stop!”

Jefizon could almost touch her crown of feathers, but two buffaloes pushed him aside.

They throw glass shards and said Casbrita should die. The first shards bumped against the soldiers’ helmets; until one of them sliced through a uniform, like a knife in the back.

The soldiers panicked.

They started shooting, blindly, wildly, at the mob.

“No! STOP FIRING!” Jefizon screamed. With a leap, he thought he’d found Fuja’s arms.

Half the mob fell to the floor. Some kept throwing, until they were shot down. Many turned around and fled, screaming and terrified, but not all of them reached home.

Jefizon’s head hurt from the endless noise. White smoke descended on the square, hiding the positions of the Casbrita soldiers. He pulled Fuja upright and dragged her to safety, stumbling over the bodies of fallen animals.

Until he found a wall to hide behind, out of breath and hand in hand with Fuja.

When the shots subsided, the square was covered in many wounded and a handful of dead bodies.

Later, dear reader, they’d call this the Bosnot Bloodbath. Not because of the number of deaths, but because they killed unarmed protesting animals. The rest of the world increasingly saw Casbrita as devils now, and the inhabitants of the colonies as victims.

The home of Bosnot’s governor was on fire. After several spy missions led by Fuja, they’d uncovered evidence that he was secretly loyal to Casbrita and actively sentenced rebels to death. They were disappointed they couldn’t grab the man himself before he fled.

In the meantime, Jefizon used his shopping addiction to buy loads of weapons and ammunition. It started in the colony of which Bosnot was the capital, but thanks to other generous donors, more and more colonies could arm their civilians. The Casbrita had no clue, but every front door now hid a weapon, ready and loaded.

Their next plan was even better. Jefizon and Fuja had collected the information. Wasserbox already knew a lot about the habits and structures of Casbritan soldiers, which allowed them to pick the perfect moment.

Midnight. Disguised as natives, thanks to Fuja. Partially to hide their true identities, partially to show Casbrita that they were also still furious at them.

Everyone wanted Wasserbox to lead. But Ajay insisted, as leader of the Children of Freedom, that he’d do so. Bardams never participated in the fighting, which caused even more squibbling among them. In the end, his spot was taken up by the slave rhino: Pikan.

Which could not be his real name, Jefizon knew, because rhino names always contained an “r”. But he didn’t resist, because Pikan was clearly the strongest of them all.

“Climb in the highest mast,” Ajay commanded. “Let us know when soldiers are coming. If you dare.”

Pikan rolled his eyes and crawled over the ship. The others followed at a slower pace. Once on deck, they spread out.

The ship, part of the Casbrita fleet, was gigantic. It would take hours to search all the corners. Fortunately, they knew exactly what they wanted: the thousands of crates containing goods that should be in the ship’s hold.

Wasserbox entered the hold first. He had to suppress laughter when he saw their loot. With a grin, he studied the piles of tea that Casbrita had imported to Bosnot. Their new laws had turned back many taxes after the Bosnot Bloodbath … but not the one on tea. They’d chosen that beloved drink as their hill to die on.

Ajay landed next to him. “One crate at a time. No noise. NOW!”

The team pulled crate after crate to the surface, only to throw away all the tea in the sea. But they were too slow; the crates too heavy. Wasserbox grabbed the metal edge of his gun and started smashing holes in the side of the ship’s hull.

“I gave no permission for that!” Ajay said. “Stop that!”

“If we have to carry every—”

Pikan tapped the mast. “Erm, Ajay, everyone. You should see this.”

“Soldiers?” Ajay asked anxiously. He climbed the ladder upwards and saw the truth: hundreds of Bosnot civilians had left their homes. Some cheered them on. Some ran to the ship to help them.

Tens of crates were now pulled from the hold every minute. Countless kilograms of tea, thrown in the sea with great pleasure. A loss to Casbrita nearing millions of dollars. The longer it went on, the more enthusiasm to their destruction.

“I don’t trust it,” Ajay suddenly said. “Pull back! Abort! This is enough!”

“What?” Wasserbox exclaimed. But he recognized Ajay as the designated leader, and they all pulled back, sending the people back home.

The hold was far from empty. There were two more ships like this one, probably holding just as much tea.

Yes, they’d thrown away tons of tea, dealt Casbrita a blow. But they could’ve accomplished so much more if Ajay—

As they retreated, the first soldiers pushed their way through the crowds. Ajay commanded everyone, again, to let it all be and don’t get caught.

They jumped into the water, which now had an odd taste. Jefizon assumed the crowd would give them more time to flee.

When he resurfaced, Fuja suddenly gave him a kiss.

“This,” she whispered, “is what we should do more often.”

And then, dear reader, Casbrita obviously came with a devestating reaction to this treachery. Because for some reason, some animals can’t just let something happen without feeling the incredibl desire to take even greater revenge.