The General Secretary's Visit (closed)

[Excalbia]

Ministry of State, Citadel Excalbia

Dr. Frank Ginkel, the Director-General for Western Atlantic Affairs looked over the top of glasses at the two mid-level diplomatic officers standing in front of him. “A state visit from Anahuac? Hoogaboom coming to the Citadel?”

“Yes, sir,” the more senior of the two said with a slight nod. “Ambassador Piške is convinced that the Socialist People’s Fiefdom is serious about engaging with the rest of the region and that this would be good opportunity, considering our own long absence from the world stage, to reengage as well. And to channel all that engagement in positive directions.”

Ginkel removed his glasses and turned to look out his window. At first blush hosting Hoogaboom was not an obvious choice for an early state visit. However, with the Emperor already traveling to the Caldan Union for a state visit to reinvigorate that relationship, it did open up the possibility of using an incoming state visit to develop new relationships. Finally, Ginkel nodded and turned back to the desk officers. “Very well. I agree with the Ambassador’s recommendation. I will raise it with the Minister this afternoon. Assuming that the Chancellor and the Imperial Household Agency agree, we should be able to transmit a formal invitation by the end of the week.”

The two men bowed slightly. “Yes, sir.”

With the approvals given and the proper invitation sent, on nice formal stationary with the Imperial Seal embossed in gold, preparations for the General Secretary’s state visit began in earnest.

Sometime Later at Citadel International Airport, Some Distance From Citadel Excalbia

The VIP terminal was a relatively small two-storey glass and steel structure. Most of the time, it sat empty except for the occasional business executive renting it to impress a client or a foreign embassy staff using it to impress their newly arriving ambassador. Occasionally, however, it was used by the Ministry of State or the Imperial Household Agency to receive foreign dignitaries. And this was one of those days.

The terminal was draped in bunting the colors of the Anahuac flag. Crossed Excalbian and Anahuac flags were displayed to either side of the terminal’s entrance. A honour guard of the Imperial Air Force stood to one side of the terminal bearing the two flags and behind them stood a detachment of blue uniformed air force personnel at parade rest.

A red carpet extended from the terminal to a spot on the tarmac marked for receiving a large passenger jet. A mobile ramp stood to one side at the ready, along with the necessary ground crew.

Immediately in front of the terminal a foursome stood waiting for the General Secretary’s arrival. On one side stood the bespeckled figure of Dr. Frank Ginkel, while a slightly younger gentleman in a modern-cut suit waited with his hands behind his back. This was Arturs Vaisnieks, the Ministry’s Chief of Protocol.

Between the two men stood two women in their fifties. One wore a well-tailored suit with a below-the-knee skirt. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders and she wore the heavy chain and medallions identifying her as the Imperial Chancellor, Lady Ashley Gordon Robb. The woman to her right was noticeably taller, and would have been even without the much higher heels, and she wore her brownish-blonde hair slightly longer. Dressed in a violet hued and very expensive pants suit, Minister of State Lady Christina Freedman looked every bit the former TV journalist and celebrity. The two stood casually chatting as they awaited the General Secretary’s arrival.

[Uncle Noel]

Intervlug Flight IVL14: Excalbian Airspace

There was brief knock on the door before the friendly head of an attendant poked into the booth. “We’ll be landing in about 40 minutes miss,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you,” said the occupant and with that the attendant went on her rounds to tell the rest of the distinguished passengers on this special flight. Suniefreda Hoogboom looked briefly out of the window at the Excalbian countryside below but, like most flights, all she could see at this point was fields, forests and the occasional mountain. Deciding that she would wait a little longer before trying to make out civilisation she tried to read the same page of her book again. The book was the classic definition of airport fiction and consisted, as far as she could pay attention, of an implausibly young and pretty researcher and a grizzled former SAS man (she’d had to enquire fairly early in the book who the SAS were and was informed that they were an elite military unit from a far-away country) who were trying, for reasons that escaped her, to find the tomb of Alexander the Great. At this point in the book they hated each other which meant that she was steeling herself for the inevitable poorly-written sex scene.

The door of her booth having been left open (and Suniefreda couldn’t the last time this plane had flown considering its very dated interior) and from the corridor beyond she could hear an approaching “chink-chink-chink”. It was no surprise when the face of Admiral Oostmal, the People’s Commissar for Defence, appeared where the attendant’s had just vacated, the metallic chinking having come from the medals he now wore on his uniform.

“Hello Sunie,” he said with a smile, “Mind if I join you?” Suniefreda really didn’t have a choice in the matter and was welcome for the distraction. “Of course,” she said with a smile.

The Oostmal sat with a audible clunk from his medals. “Tell me,” said Suniefreda with a mischievous look, “Is it usual for the Defence Minister to be in tow for a State Visit?”

Oostmal shrugged. “We’re hoping ultimately for an alliance of some sorts, so it doesn’t hurt.” He leaned towards Suniefreda conspiratorially, “And besides, countries like people have to make money somehow, and our arms industry is always looking for customers.” He tapped his nose and winked.

“Admiral Oostmal, I would have never have taken you for a pirate.” she replied with a laugh. But she had to admit that at least the People’s Commissar for Defence had a definite role, which was more than could be said for her. It had been decided by those planning the trip that there ought to be an accompanying female presence on the trip. The General Secretary’s wife, Suniefreda’s grandmother, had passed away some years ago; and her mother had refused to go (such was the General Secretary’s age that his only daughter, Suniefreda’s mother, was not exactly in the first flush of youth herself and had declined the trip. She had also, quite wisely, retained her maiden name).

Oostmal, detecting this sudden thoughtfulness, leaned across and patted her knee. “You’ll be fine,” he said with a smile, “You’ve nothing to worry about.” Having grown up in the Ayotochco Palace most of those long-time allies of her grandfather had come to see Sunie as something of a surrogate daughter. Leaning back he changed the subject. “How is the old man?”

Suniefreda gave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh terrible,” she said with a glint in her eye, “Absolutely terrible. He was complaining this morning about how the Excalbians are going to call him “General Secretary” when really that’s a party position, he can only accept a state visit because he’s…”

“Chairman of the Council of State, I know I know.”

“I mean,” said Suniefreda, “Does it really matter?” Oostmal was a military man and appreciative of correct titles being used for the correct circumstances, but he declined to make a point of this so said nothing. “He also got me to check whether the Excalbians knew that there weren’t any human sacrifices in Anahuac anymore. I mean what sort of a question is that? Of course they know.”

“Well you say that,” replied Oostmal, “But I remember when the then Xirmiumite Foreign Minister came and that was the first thing she asked.”

“Bizarre,” she replied with a dismissive wave of the hand, “But that’s the Eternal Republic for you. Excalbia is a different class altogether.” For a representative of a communist countries this probably wasn’t the best way of putting it.

Citadel International Airport

The ground crew waited for the turbo-props of the TU-114 to stop spinning before moving the stairs to the door. The General...I mean the Chairman of the Council of State was having his suit brushed before meeting the welcome party below. “Sunie? Sunie, where is that girl? Sunie?”

“Here grandfather.”

“Right you follow me down on my right hand side and Popochcaxitl, where the hell is he?”

The interpreter appeared from behind a member of the security detail. “Here comrade.”

“Where? Damnit man, stop this tomfoolery and nonsense and get here. Now you go on my left. Now Sunie, how do I look?”

Hoogaboom Sr had been persuaded to obtain a more modern suit, though the effect of this was limited by the fact that it was still black, still three-piece and still worn with a pocket watch and chain. The effect was to make him look like a regional bank manager in an old sitcom.

“Very smart grandfather.” With that the door to the aircraft was opened and, after a brief and cursory look by the VKS Captain in charge of security, the Anahuacan party descended the stairs and crossed to where the Chancellor and Minister for State were waiting. It was at times like this that the Chairman wished that the Fiefdom had upgraded its national anthem from the default socialist “Internationale” but there had never been an agreement on what to replace it with (and not many lyrics that could be as punchy in the nahua as they were in Ostgoten so the various attempts had been abandoned.

[Excalbia]

Citadel International Airport, Some Distance From Citadel Excalbia

As the Excalbian delegation watched the antiquated turboprop began taxing towards the VIP terminal, an official from the Ministry of State hurriedly approached and whispered something in the ear of the Chief of Protocol, Arturs Vaisnieks.

Vaisnieks’s smile faded and he shooed away the the official, then turned to the Minister of State. “My Lady,” he said in a whisper, “I apologize, but there seems to be some last minute confusion over Mr. Hoogaboom’s proper title. He is both General Secretary of the Constitutional Socialist Party and Chairman of the Socialist People’s Fiefdom’s Council of State…”

Lady Christina Freedman’s brow furrowed slightly. She had always found communist states with their interlocking party and government apparatuses needlessly confusing. “This is a fine time for this to come, Arturs,” she said as softly as she could over the noise of Hoogaboom’s propeller-driven plane. Vaisnieks bowed and flushed slightly. “Still, there’s nothing to be done about it,” the Minister continued. “My rule is: when in doubt just use ‘Your Excellency’.”

“Understood, My Lady.”

Everyone returned to their proper places and the plane’s engines finally came to stop and the door to the passenger cabin opened. As the Anahuacan delegation began their descent, the Imperial Air Force band began playing an instrumental version of the Internationale.

Vaisnieks approached the Anahuacans and bowed deeply at the waste. “Your Excellency,” he said turning slightly to face Hoogaboom, “welcome to the Holy Empire of Excalbia.” The Protocol Chief stood and took a few steps towards the rest of the delegation. He gestured to the lady in the long skirt with medallions draped across her chest. “Your Excellency,” he said, “it is my pleasure to present to you the Lady Ashley Gordon Robb, Imperial Chancellor of Excalbia.”

Lady Ashley bowed slightly and then extended her hand. “Welcome, Your Excellency.” She turned to her left and gestured to the lady in the stylish pants suit. “This is Lady Christina Freedman, our Minister of State. The two of us are looking forward to some productive and substantive discussions.”

After allowing the General… er… Chairman time to introduce his delegation, Lady Christina bowed and also offered her hand to Hoogaboom. “Your Excellency, welcome,” she said in a smooth voice. “Normally, we prefer to allow our guests time to get settled in their accomodations after arrival; however, the Emperor is soon to depart for the Caldan Union, so if you do not object, once we finish here we will take you directly to Sweyn Castle to meet His Imperial Majesty.”

[Uncle Noel]

It was shortly before introducing the Anahuacan delegation that the Chairman had his (first) big moment. Having politely nodded at the Excalbians and shaking hands a sudden look of profound concentration came across his face.

“Thank you,” he began hesitantly. At his elbow Acatlicpalli Popochcaxitl, the translator, urged him on with a smile. “Thank you for the inviting of me.” A look of relief came upon him and Popochcaxitl, like a parent on their child’s first day at school, beamed with pride. The General Secretary grew up during a time when the universal ascendancy of English as the international language of diplomacy and commerce was not a foregone conclusion. He had therefore never saw the need to learn it, though that might change going forward.

The rest of the delegation was introduced via Popochcaxitl’s assistance. Oostmal, his medals glinting in the morning sun, did not need any elaboration. Like many Communist States it was common to have a member of the armed forces as defence minister. Also like many others, it therefore tried to ensure that they did not gain undue importance in the Party hierarchy. Oostmal has a stocky man whose face ought to have a beard, if he wanted to look the part as an admiral, but Mrs Oostmal had declined such an offer.

“And this,” said Hoogaboom turning at last to his right, “Is my granddaughter, Suniefreda.” He had hoped the Fiefdom’s own Chief of Protocol had indicated in advance both her attendance and the subtle reason for her inclusion, which was to break up the otherwise solid wall of men, but also as a demonstration that Uncle Noel was not just a Father to the Nation, but an actual parent himself.

Suniefreda gave a small bow. She has no stripling, at 27, her dusty blonde hair falling neatly past her shoulders. Unlike the others she was not yet of the age of the pantsuit, and therefore wore a matching blouse, jacket and skirt in a neutral blue. “Pleased to meet you,” she said in English, as she was young enough to make this a necessity.

There was a brief delay as Lady Christina’s was translated for the General Secretary’s benefit. Out of instinct he looked at his watch, even though that made no difference to the decision and, he now noted, he had not changed from the time back home.

“That’s absolutely fine,” he said, grateful that he had slept on the plane, “Please lead on.” As he, and the rest of the delegation, were lead away from the bands he glanced about the VIP Terminal. “Very clean,” he said, partly to himself and partly to his granddaughter who was walking with him, and then, more quietly, “I’m not sure what so’s Holy about it.”

“Hush grandfather,” Suniefreda hissed, “Or they won’t let you out on anymore trips and they’ll have to send Spode instead.” At this her grandfather visibly bristled and, straightening slightly, he proceeded to exchange a few polite, translated words with the Minister of State, “A very warm welcome,” he said, “you have our thanks. Is this facility used often?”

[Excalbia]

Suniefreda gave a small bow. She has no stripling, at 27, her dusty blonde hair falling neatly past her shoulders. Unlike the others she was not yet of the age of the pantsuit, and therefore wore a matching blouse, jacket and skirt in a neutral blue. “Pleased to meet you,” she said in English, as she was young enough to make this a necessity.

“And this,” said Hoogaboom turning at last to his right, “Is my granddaughter, Suniefreda.” He had hoped the Fiefdom’s own Chief of Protocol had indicated in advance both her attendance and the subtle reason for her inclusion, which was to break up the otherwise solid wall of men, but also as a demonstration that Uncle Noel was not just a Father to the Nation, but an actual parent himself.

Lady Ashley smiled pleasantly at the younger woman. She was a mother herself and was naturally sympathetic to children being dragged into the political affairs of their parents. “Welcome to Excalbia, Suniefreda,” the Imperial Chancellor said, her medallions of office glittering in the sun, “I hope you will enjoy your visit; we’ve arranged a sightseeing excursion for you later, if you’d like, while your grandfather and Admiral Oostmal attend to business.”

At this her grandfather visibly bristled and, straightening slightly, he proceeded to exchange a few polite, translated words with the Minister of State, “A very warm welcome,” he said, “you have our thanks. Is this facility used often?”

Lady Christina listened patiently for the translation, then smiled, as only a trained television personality can. It was a smile that appeared genuine and personal, yet one that could be turned on and off on a moment’s notice. Of course, before entering politics more than two decades ago, the Minister of State - and former Chancellor and former Minister of Defence - had been the anchorwoman for the the nation’s highest rated nightly newscast.

“I am pleased that you have the warm welcome intended, Your Excellency. We wish you to consider yourself among friends.” As the party walked through the small terminal towards the waiting motorcade continued, “We use this terminal for receiving foreign dignitaries, such as yourself. The Cabinet and Imperial Family also make use of it. Of course, when not in use by His Imperial Majesty’s Government, it is available for rent. Some large private corporations use it from time to time, as do some foreign embassies to receive or send off their ambassador’s.”

Exiting the small terminal, the party found a large motorcade waiting. A phalanx of motorcycle units from the Imperial Police sat at the front, followed by a police cruiser and large black SUV. Three limousines waited with the doors open. Behind them waited more black SUVs and another police cruiser. All three limousines bore both the flag of the Socialist People’s Fiefdom and the Holy Empire on their front fenders. Air Force guards stood at attention beside the open doors and saluted as the party approached.

Lady Christina gestured to the lead car. “Your Excellency, you and the Imperial Chancellor will take the lead car. Your granddaughter may accompany you.” She turned to Admiral Oostmal. “Admiral, you and I will follow in the second car.” The third car was available for anyone else traveling with the Anahuacan delegation.

After everyone was settled in their vehicles, the motorcade zoomed amidst the wail of sirens and the flashing red and blue of police lights.

[Uncle Noel]

“I am pleased that you have the warm welcome intended, Your Excellency. We wish you to consider yourself among friends.” As the party walked through the small terminal towards the waiting motorcade continued, “We use this terminal for receiving foreign dignitaries, such as yourself. The Cabinet and Imperial Family also make use of it. Of course, when not in use by His Imperial Majesty’s Government, it is available for rent. Some large private corporations use it from time to time, as do some foreign embassies to receive or send off their ambassador’s.”

Hoogaboom nodded sagely as Lady Christina spoke, though he had absolutely no idea what she was saying, and there followed the awkward hinterland as she was translated for his benefit. Even as Popochcaxitl relayed the information back in his own language all he could hear were the words "Imperial Family" and "large private corporations."

'Aha,' said a small voice inside him that probably represented that youthful ideologue that had taken up arms for the party against the corrupt republic, 'See the inequality inherit in the system!' The General Secretary tried to repress this as best he could. "I see," was his neutral response to the exposition.

As the order of the cars was disclosed Oostmal felt a sudden wave of irritation wash over him. It wasn't in respect of his travel partner, she seemed pleasant enough and, you know, not a bad looking woman for her age. He wondered pondered this for slightly longer than was seemly. He was on a diplomatic mission after all.

Nor was he particularly concerned with the ordering of the cars, he had not expected to be riding so far forward and had assumed that he would be traveling with the rest of the diplomatic team in the third car. No, there was something about being suddenly rushed to see the Emperor, as though he had more important things to do. Which he did, but this grated slightly.

The car, he noted, was considerably more luxurious than the cars they used at homes. Oh the Ljubljanas were nice enough, especially compared to everything else on the road, but the Anahuacan automotive industry had picked a style some 50 years ago and saw no need to change it now.

It was pride though, that's what stuck in Oostmal's throat. In an ideal world this would be a friendly trip to the People's Republic of Excalbia, followed perhaps by a short stopover in United Socialist States of Pantocratoria. But it wasn't, and the Revolution he pledged as a young Midshipman to both protect and export hadn't turned out how he'd imagined. So now they were coming, cap in hand, to seek allies from amidst the adversary. He put on a brave face. "How far is it," he said in passable English, which had long since become the region's standard for nautical matters, "to the er...." He tried to remember if there was a specific name for the Imperial Palace, "The Svellvyn..." He stopped. Was that the name of the palace where they lived or the palace where they met people? "The place. I mean palace."

In the front car Suniefreda realised that her window for asking questions might be quite limited before she was packed off to look at kindergartens or community projects and all the other things that +1's of diplomatic tours get assigned to. "Please Lady Ashley," she began was the journey was underway. Had her grandfather a better grasp of the language he would no doubt have bid her stop, but as he didn't she ploughed on. "I know this might sound like a curious first question having just arrived in your...." she looked out the car window but, with respect to the Excalbians, no one has ever managed to make the area of land around a major international airport look like anything other than the area of land around a major international airport, "beautiful country but recent Excalbian history was not prominent on my curriculum at school," unlike Marxism, which was, "But am I right in thinking that the current Emperor was the brother of the previous Emperor?"

[Excalbia]

Lady Ashley gestured towards the waiting limousine and permitted Chairman Hoogaboom and Suniefreda the enter the car and chose their places first. There were two rows of seats facing each other, both luxuriously appointed. After the visitors were settled, the Chancellor took her seat. Finally, the translator was shown to the opposite door and allowed to find an advantageous spot. With everyone in their places, the doors were closed and the Chancellor crossed her legs at the ankles and rested one arm on the armrest of the door.

In the front car Suniefreda realised that her window for asking questions might be quite limited before she was packed off to look at kindergartens or community projects and all the other things that +1's of diplomatic tours get assigned to. "Please Lady Ashley," she began was the journey was underway. Had her grandfather a better grasp of the language he would no doubt have bid her stop, but as he didn't she ploughed on. "I know this might sound like a curious first question having just arrived in your...." she looked out the car window but, with respect to the Excalbians, no one has ever managed to make the area of land around a major international airport look like anything other than the area of land around a major international airport, "beautiful country but recent Excalbian history was not prominent on my curriculum at school," unlike Marxism, which was, "But am I right in thinking that the current Emperor was the brother of the previous Emperor?"

Lady Ashely smiled and nodded at the question. “Not quite, Suniefreda. Our Emperor, David IV, is the son of his predecessor, David III. The Emperor did have an older brother, Crown Prince Paul, who was expected to succeed their father, but he unfortunately died just before the death of David III and never became Emperor. In many monarchies,” the Chancellor continued, trying not to sound like a school teacher giving a history lesson, “Crown Prince Paul’s son, Prince Peter, would have been next in the line of succession, but such things were a little more fluid in Excalbia at the time. And, although Prince Peter never became Emperor, he did get to marry the Queen of the Caldan Union.”

***

Lady Christina noticed that Admiral Oostmal seemed lost in thought before entering their limousine. She searched his face looking for a clue to what was causing his concern. She knew that, as Communist state, Anahuac’s social practices were likely very different than Excalbia’s. Seeing nothing obvious, she could only hope that any unintended affront was minor and easily overlooked.

The Minister of State settled into the car and crossed her legs, resting her perfectly manicured hands in her lap. The seats were fine leather, dyed dark blue and the finishings were mostly polished wood with gold trim.

"How far is it," he said in passable English, which had long since become the region's standard for nautical matters, "to the er...." He tried to remember if there was a specific name for the Imperial Palace, "The Svellvyn..." He stopped. Was that the name of the palace where they lived or the palace where they met people? "The place. I mean palace."

“Sweyn Castle,” Lady Christina offered with a slight smile, speaking slowly enough to be clearly understood by non-native speaker without being obvious about it. “It is not far. About a 20 minute ride with our police escort.” She turned to face the Admiral. “The Castle was built in the 17th century to replace the Citadel, which goes back 12th century, as the residence of the monarch. Although a much grander palace was built in the lower city in the 19th century, the Emperor prefers to maintain his residence in the Castle.”

As they drove through the suburbs of the capital, warehouses and single family housing developments gave way to apartment and office buildings, mostly newer construction with lots of glass and steel, but some older brick buildings newly renovated in the last half-dozen years.

“After this formal welcome, Admiral, we have several meetings scheduled,” the Minister smiled and spread her hands slightly, “if they meet with your approval. Including meetings with our Defence Minister, Dr. Arturs Anders, and the Chief of the General Staff, Lord Admiral Ricards Turlais.”

[Uncle Noel]

Lady Ashely smiled and nodded at the question. “Not quite, Suniefreda. Our Emperor, David IV, is the son of his predecessor, David III. The Emperor did have an older brother, Crown Prince Paul, who was expected to succeed their father, but he unfortunately died just before the death of David III and never became Emperor. In many monarchies,” the Chancellor continued, trying not to sound like a school teacher giving a history lesson, “Crown Prince Paul’s son, Prince Peter, would have been next in the line of succession, but such things were a little more fluid in Excalbia at the time. And, although Prince Peter never became Emperor, he did get to marry the Queen of the Caldan Union.”

Lady Ashley need not have concerned herself that she sounded like a school teacher, the Anahuacan delegation had known precious little about Excalbia, and those efforts by the members of staff of the People’s Commissariat for Foreign Affairs had imparted so much information as to cause confusion.

“Fluid as you say,” nodded the General Secretary after the obligatory delay for translation, “As it happens the old Tochtepec Empire was much the same. Which always makes me laugh…”
The General Secretarial brow furrowed for a moment.
“I’m sure every country is the same, Lady Ashley, but there are always those who say that not only were the old days better but also that the old ways were somehow more perfect. There are those that say that the old Empire was democratic, because people voted for who would be Emperor. This always amuses me a little because that fails to realise that the only people with a vote were members of the Imperial Family, who were the only candidates. It’s not what I would call an election!” Hoogaboom neglected to point out that even this limited exercise in democracy was more than his country presently enjoyed.

Suniefreda pouted. Succession was never far from the minds of most people in the Fiefdom, and in her reading on the subject she had painted Prince Peter as the victim of a cruel dynastic plot. “Still,” she protested, “I cannot imagine what it would be like to be…” she searched for the appropriate word. She wanted ‘swindled’ but decided against it. “Put to one side in favour of one’s uncle. It sounds like something from Hamlet.” Despite the language difference, Hamlet was the same in any language and her grandfather did not need a mastery in this foreign tongue to guess what was being said. A stern glance followed.

“My apologies Lady Ashley but youthful indiscretion, you know how they get ideas in their head.”

“Sweyn Castle,” Lady Christina offered with a slight smile, speaking slowly enough to be clearly understood by non-native speaker without being obvious about it. “It is not far. About a 20 minute ride with our police escort.” She turned to face the Admiral. “The Castle was built in the 17th century to replace the Citadel, which goes back 12th century, as the residence of the monarch. Although a much grander palace was built in the lower city in the 19th century, the Emperor prefers to maintain his residence in the Castle.”

As they drove through the suburbs of the capital, warehouses and single family housing developments gave way to apartment and office buildings, mostly newer construction with lots of glass and steel, but some older brick buildings newly renovated in the last half-dozen years.

“After this formal welcome, Admiral, we have several meetings scheduled,” the Minister smiled and spread her hands slightly, “if they meet with your approval. Including meetings with our Defence Minister, Dr. Arturs Anders, and the Chief of the General Staff, Lord Admiral Ricards Turlais.”

The Admiral grunted. Good, straight to business, he always liked that. He couldn’t abide the civilian tendency to circle a problem needlessly. He looked out the window at the changing cityscape beyond. Not wanting to appear rude he glanced back at his host.

“Please Lady Christina, I wonder if you could tell me something, is the sword real?”
Oostmal realised the moment the words left his mouth that this made no sense. He shuttered a clarification. “What I mean is…..what I meant to say…..many years ago I met a sailor in the Belgian Navy.”

Oostmal fidgeted in his seat. He realised that he had spent far too much of his working life talking to men about other men. He wasn’t used to professional discussions with women, let alone in the back of an official car, let alone with attractive women such as the Minister of State.”

“And what he said was that the crown on the Belgian crest, well it doesn’t exist. The crown I mean. Kings of Belgium aren’t crowned, they just have a sort of swearing in, so they don't need an actual crown so they've never made one. All those crowns on the uniforms and on official matters, it’s just a drawing. I know Excalbians call their ‘crown’” he added the inverted commas using his fingers for extra effect, “the “sword” but I didn’t know whether there is actually a sword. In real life. Or a crown for that matter.”

[Excalbia]

“Fluid as you say,” nodded the General Secretary after the obligatory delay for translation, “As it happens the old Tochtepec Empire was much the same. Which always makes me laugh…”
The General Secretarial brow furrowed for a moment.
“I’m sure every country is the same, Lady Ashley, but there are always those who say that not only were the old days better but also that the old ways were somehow more perfect. There are those that say that the old Empire was democratic, because people voted for who would be Emperor. This always amuses me a little because that fails to realise that the only people with a vote were members of the Imperial Family, who were the only candidates. It’s not what I would call an election!” Hoogaboom neglected to point out that even this limited exercise in democracy was more than his country presently enjoyed.

Suniefreda pouted. Succession was never far from the minds of most people in the Fiefdom, and in her reading on the subject she had painted Prince Peter as the victim of a cruel dynastic plot. “Still,” she protested, “I cannot imagine what it would be like to be…” she searched for the appropriate word. She wanted ‘swindled’ but decided against it. “Put to one side in favour of one’s uncle. It sounds like something from Hamlet.” Despite the language difference, Hamlet was the same in any language and her grandfather did not need a mastery in this foreign tongue to guess what was being said. A stern glance followed.

“My apologies Lady Ashley but youthful indiscretion, you know how they get ideas in their head.”

“No need for apologies, Excellency,” Lady Ashely said with a brief smile, “like any nation, I suppose, we get so used to our own stories that we can forget how they might sound to those who are not quite so familiar with them.” She turned back to Suniefreda. “It does sound bit like Hamlet, I suppose, but without the bloodshed or ill intent. At the time, Prince Peter was... an impetuous young man and the Senate and the Church, the electors for the Sword, if you will,” she gave a brief amused glance in the General Secretary’s direction, “felt that the prince was not ready to become emperor and, at the time, we had no real tradition or legal precedence for appointing a regent. So, they selected his uncle to become our Emperor. Fortunately for all of us, the Imperial Family is fairly close knit and relations between the prince and his uncle have remained pleasantly warm.”

As the motorcade approached the Excalbia River, the Chancellor nodded towards the window. “We’re about to cross the river to Citadel Island. While the whole surrounding area is the City of Citadel Excalbia, the Island is the real heart of the city and of our government.” In the distance a high cliff rose on the far shore of the island. Several large buildings, including a church, stood atop the cliff but two - a large castle and very ancient-looking fortress - dominated the skyline. “And there on the cliff,” she said, “is our destination: Sweyn Castle.”

* * *

The Admiral grunted. Good, straight to business, he always liked that. He couldn’t abide the civilian tendency to circle a problem needlessly. He looked out the window at the changing cityscape beyond. Not wanting to appear rude he glanced back at his host.

“Please Lady Christina, I wonder if you could tell me something, is the sword real?”
Oostmal realised the moment the words left his mouth that this made no sense. He shuttered a clarification. “What I mean is…..what I meant to say…..many years ago I met a sailor in the Belgian Navy.”

Oostmal fidgeted in his seat. He realised that he had spent far too much of his working life talking to men about other men. He wasn’t used to professional discussions with women, let alone in the back of an official car, let alone with attractive women such as the Minister of State.”

“And what he said was that the crown on the Belgian crest, well it doesn’t exist. The crown I mean. Kings of Belgium aren’t crowned, they just have a sort of swearing in, so they don't need an actual crown so they've never made one. All those crowns on the uniforms and on official matters, it’s just a drawing. I know Excalbians call their ‘crown’” he added the inverted commas using his fingers for extra effect, “the “sword” but I didn’t know whether there is actually a sword. In real life. Or a crown for that matter.”

Lady Christina smiled at the admiral’s fidgeting. She had long ago learned the effect that she could have on some men, and in political situations she had never hesitated to use it to her advantage. Within reason. “In fact, Admiral Oostmal,” she said pleasantly, “there is an actual sword. The Sword of Alsgood, the first king to unite the Excalbian highlands under a single ruler.” She pointed to the ancient fortress next to the castle on the distant cliffs. “He seized the Citadel of Excalbia there on the cliff in the 16th century and proclaimed himself king. The sword he used in his life has been passed down to every monarch since.” She turned back to the admiral. “On special occasions, the Emperor will wear it as part of his uniform. For certain ceremonies, His Imperial Majesty’s annual address to the Imperial Senate, State Funerals and the such, the Sword is carried aloft by an guardsman walking just behind the Emperor. A visible symbol of imperial power, if you will.”

[Uncle Noel]

“No need for apologies, Excellency,” Lady Ashely said with a brief smile, “like any nation, I suppose, we get so used to our own stories that we can forget how they might sound to those who are not quite so familiar with them.” She turned back to Suniefreda. “It does sound bit like Hamlet, I suppose, but without the bloodshed or ill intent. At the time, Prince Peter was... an impetuous young man and the Senate and the Church, the electors for the Sword, if you will,” she gave a brief amused glance in the General Secretary’s direction, “felt that the prince was not ready to become emperor and, at the time, we had no real tradition or legal precedence for appointing a regent. So, they selected his uncle to become our Emperor. Fortunately for all of us, the Imperial Family is fairly close knit and relations between the prince and his uncle have remained pleasantly warm.”

As the motorcade approached the Excalbia River, the Chancellor nodded towards the window. “We’re about to cross the river to Citadel Island. While the whole surrounding area is the City of Citadel Excalbia, the Island is the real heart of the city and of our government.” In the distance a high cliff rose on the far shore of the island. Several large buildings, including a church, stood atop the cliff but two - a large castle and very ancient-looking fortress - dominated the skyline. “And there on the cliff,” she said, “is our destination: Sweyn Castle.”

Suniefreda liked this explanation even less. She was not supposed to believe in the opiate of the masses but she did, and the prince’s exclusion from succession somehow offended her Christian sensibilities. She opened her mouth to refight a battle long since over but caught her grandfather’s expression and stopped. She instead offered a single flash of a smile and turned to look at the cityscape beyond.

From this point the front car was a succession of “ooohs” and “aawws” as Citadel Island swept into view. Popochcaxitl, who up to this juncture had simply been the loyal interpreter of words, wished he had bought his camera, and thanked the gods that he hadn’t listened to his mother and studied German at university.

“Most impressive,” said the General Secretary Chairman of the Council of State, “How old are these structures?”

A visible symbol of imperial power, if you will.”

“How very phallic,” said Oostmal without realising it and to his immediate and apparent horror, “*Cough* I mean it is good that you have kept such traditions up, I mean going.”

The second car was less than enamoured with the view of Citadel Excalbia.

“Forgive me,” said the Defence Minister hastily changing the subject, “They tell me that you used to be on the television.” The “the” was superfluous but it wasn’t his first language. “What was it that you used to do?”

[Excalbia]

Lady Ashley could sense that Suniefreda was less than satisfied with her efforts to explain how Prince Peter had been omitted from the Imperial succession after his grandfather’s death. She found herself liking the young woman’s sense of justice and made a mental note to send over a couple of books on Excalbian history and the Imperial succession, properly inscribed with her regards, as gifts before she and her grandfather returned to Anahuac.

“Your Excellency,” the Chancellor began in response to the Chairman’s question, “the oldest building in the capital is the Citadel,” she pointed out the window to the fortress atop the cliffs on the opposite shore of the island, “which was build in the 12th century. Sweyn Castle, next to the Citadel, was built in the 17th century. The City Hall and many of the oldest buildings in the lower city date to the 16th century. The Chancery, next to the Citadel and the Castle, and many of the government buildings, such as the Imperial Senate, most of the churches, and the Imperial State Opera date from the 19th century and were part of Emperor Samuel I’s modernization programme.”

* * *

Lady Christina smiled and suppressed the urge to laugh at Oostmal’s comment; however, he has hardly the first to attribute phallic symbolism to many of the ceremonies surrounding the Sword.

“Yes,” she said with another smile in response to the Admiral’s question, “I did start my career on television. I was a journalist for the Excalbian Broadcasting Network. My nightly news show was actually the highest rated in the country.” She looked past the Admiral, almost as if lost in thought. “It’s hard to believe that was almost 30 years ago.” She shook her head slightly. “However, I soon realized that I didn’t want to talk about the people making decisions, but wanted to be one of them. I ran for an empty seat in the Imperial Senate on the Progressive Conservative ticket and won. I was, to my surprise, named to the cabinet. Then, when David IV, our current Emperor, ascended the throne, he decided he wanted some new ideas and fresh perspective, and named me his Chancellor. I’ve bounced in and out of government, and between different ministerial portfolios ever since.”

[Uncle Noel]

“Your Excellency,” the Chancellor began in response to the Chairman’s question, “the oldest building in the capital is the Citadel,” she pointed out the window to the fortress atop the cliffs on the opposite shore of the island, “which was build in the 12th century. Sweyn Castle, next to the Citadel, was built in the 17th century. The City Hall and many of the oldest buildings in the lower city date to the 16th century. The Chancery, next to the Citadel and the Castle, and many of the government buildings, such as the Imperial Senate, most of the churches, and the Imperial State Opera date from the 19th century and were part of Emperor Samuel I’s modernization programme.”

"I see," said Hoogaboom, noting that the eastern Atlantic consisted of comparatively younger nations.

I ran for an empty seat in the Imperial Senate on the Progressive Conservative ticket and won. I was, to my surprise, named to the cabinet. Then, when David IV, our current Emperor, ascended the throne, he decided he wanted some new ideas and fresh perspective, and named me his Chancellor. I’ve bounced in and out of government, and between different ministerial portfolios ever since.”

Oostmal's eyes widened a little. "You were appointed Chancellor? How interesting. Forgive me madam but my knowledge of monarchies is quite....limited. I must have somewhat naively divided them between places where the king," he used this as a general term for monarchs, though the Western Atlantic was surprisingly light on kings, "Makes all the decisions and those there he doesn't make any. I hadn't realised, or perhaps I had not properly understood that the Emperor of the Excalbians," he was aware this was the wrong title but ploughed on anyway, "Had such a command, no I mean an executive role."

He nodded and smiled.

"Interesting, very interesting. We clearly have much to learn of each other going forward. And you were Chancellor?" The admiral seemed slightly amazed by this, "Again you must excuse me but, in my country, once you reach the top job you only tend to relinquish it when they carry you out in a box. In other countries, so I am told, once a person leaves the highest organs of state they tend to immediately retire, lest they become a distraction to their successors or, at most, a rival source of power." He waved his hand. "Though I imagine the political culture here may be very different."

[Excalbia]

Lady Christina smiled and nodded. “Our Constitution divides executive power between the Emperor and the Chancellor. Power is also divided between the Emperor and the Senate. While, for instance, my appointment as Chancellor was based on my party heading the majority coalition in the Imperial Senate and required a vote of approval by the Senate, it was the Emperor’s decision to put my name forward for the Senate’s approval. Our Emperor is neither a figurehead like some constitutional monarchs, nor an all-powerful autocrat.”

She laughed slightly at Oostmal’s comment about being carried out in a box. “It is true that most of our Chancellors have retired entirely at the end of their term, such as Sir Albert Cummings or Lady Jessica Tagarath, or have taken ceremonial duties in some international organization, such as Sir Sterling Wentworth. However, to be blunt, I was too young to retire when my party was unseated. I had no stomach for retirement, nor, to be honest, for leaving on anyone’s terms than my own.”

* * *

As Lady Christina and Admiral Oostmal chatted, the motorcade made its way onto Citadel Island and through the Lower City. They based the Imperial Senate with its high dome and Excalbia Cathedral with its whitewashed walls and stained glass windows, among other notable public buildings. They began their winding ascent to the top of the cliff that ran along the north and western edge of the island and approached Sweyn Castle.

The 17th century castle was more a palace than someone’s vision of a medieval castle. Banners in the colors of both the Excalbian and the Anahuacan flags fell from the second story windows and danced in the breeze. As they drove through the wrought iron gates of the castle, they could see an honour guard of blue uniformed Imperial Guards and red uniformed musicians awaiting their arrival.

As the vehicles came to a stop, Imperial Guards approached and opened the doors of the two lead limousines. The Guards snapped to attention as the Chairman exited, followed by Lady Ashley. Lady Christina allowed Admiral Oostmal to exit their vehicle first, then guided him to the Chairman’s side.

The band played the first few lines of the Internationale as the Chairman and his delegation assembled. Then, after a brief pause, trumpeters played ruffles and flourishes followed by the first few bars of the Imperial March. With the first notes from the trumpets, the double wooden doors of the castled opened and a tall man with a mixture of white and blonde hair, dressed in a white naval uniform with a blue sash and a blue cape - and a sword and scabbard buckled around his waist - walked out and down the steps towards the Chairman.

Lady Ashley, Lady Christina and the other Excalbians present bowed deeply. “Your Excellency,” she said, turning slightly towards Hoogaboom, “may I present His Imperial Majesty, David IV.” Looking towards the Emperor, she continued, “You Imperial Majesty, His Excellency, Noel Hoogaboom, Chairman of the Council of State of the Socialist People’s Fiefdom of Anahuac.”

“Mr. Chairman,” the Emperor said with a slight bow. Then, he extended his hand. “Welcome to Excalbia.”

[Uncle Noel]

However, to be blunt, I was too young to retire when my party was unseated. I had no stomach for retirement, nor, to be honest, for leaving on anyone’s terms than my own.”

The People’s Commissar for Defence said nothing but smiled knowingly. It had only been a relatively short journey but he had grown to like the Minister for State, to the extent that he was now slightly ashamed of his previous, more animal, thoughts. As the cars pulled to a stop before Sweyn Castle he turned one last time to her. “I hope,” he said, “That this is not the last time we will meet during this trip. You have been very..” he searched his english vocabulary for the most appropriate word, “understanding. We in the fiefdom do not travel much.” Having reach the end of what a military man could express in a language not his own, he gave a final smile in hope that this made sense as the Imperial Guards opened the car door.

Lady Ashley, Lady Christina and the other Excalbians present bowed deeply. “Your Excellency,” she said, turning slightly towards Hoogaboom, “may I present His Imperial Majesty, David IV.” Looking towards the Emperor, she continued, “You Imperial Majesty, His Excellency, Noel Hoogaboom, Chairman of the Council of State of the Socialist People’s Fiefdom of Anahuac.”

“Mr. Chairman,” the Emperor said with a slight bow. Then, he extended his hand. “Welcome to Excalbia.”

The Chairman had debated at length, though internally, what he would do when he met the Emperor. He had resolved to remain ramrod straight, and not to fall victim into bowing and scraping before the monarch, but the fact that the Emperor had slightly bowed to him had thrown Hoogaboom off-kilter. Not wishing to appear rude he emulated, as best he could, the imperial bow.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Hoogaboom had been less concerned about the styles of address than he was about the style of greeting, “May I, on behalf of all the citizins of the People’s Fiefdom, take this opportunity to thank you and your government for the warmth of the greeting we have received on our arrival.” He took the outstretched hand and shook it. This was much better than the socialist fraternal kiss that he had to do when he met other communist leaders, which usually meant that fool in Daytanistan.

He looked round briefly a the setting which seemed to him something out of a fairy tale, though whether that made him the Prince Charming of an Anahuac-Excalbian Alliance or an ugly sister was a question he didn’t wish to answer.

“And I would also like to thank you for seeing us at such short notice, as I understand you are shortly to depart for the Caldan Union.”

He paused briefly, not knowing whether there would be photographs, when a small, feminine cough came from behind him.

“Oh and, if it please your majesty, may I also introduce the People’s Commissar for Defence, Theoderic Oostmal…”

Oostmal bowed, slightly more deeply than the General Secretary, “Your Majesty.”

“And my youngest granddaughter Suniefreda who has very kindly,” there was a knowing look, “Agreed to accompany on this visit.”

Suniefreda, who had been practising her courtesy in the mirror for several weeks, now had an opportunity to deplore it. “Your Majesty,” she said, once again in English.

“I hope,” Hoogaboom Sr looked to catch the eye of Lady Ashley, for there was something that had been bothering him since the airport, “That this is an acceptable number. We are not especially customed to state visits and I wasn’t sure whether you were expecting more party, I mean government officials. I can request more if the itinerary requires it.” They didn’t really have an option in that respect. He wondered whether he ought to introduce his translator but thought against it, he didn't think that was what one did and besides he had never bothered to learn what Popochcaxitl's first name was.

[Excalbia]

As the Emperor and the Chairman shook hands photographers snapped photos and video crews filmed the scene for various newscasts latter that evening. By the time the handshake finished, two people had emerged from the castle and joined the Emperor. To his right stood a tall woman in a modest red dress with reddish blonde hair and just a few silver white strands. To his left stood a young blonde haired college age man in a tan suit.

The Emperor returned Admiral Oostmal’s bow with a slight bow of his own and smiled at Suniefreda’s perfect curtsey. “Ms. Hoogaboom,” he said with a slight bow, “a pleasure.”

The Emperor turned to his right. “Mr. Chairman, I would like to present my wife, Empress Elizabeth.” The Empress gave a slight bow of her own. “And,” turning to his left the Emperor continued, “my youngest son, Prince James.” James bowed and turning slightly flashed a charming smile at Suniefreda.

“I am pleased that you have received a warm welcome from my ministers and I wish to thank you for your understanding, Mr. Chairman,” the Emperor said.”We are departing for the Caldan Union early tomorrow morning.” The Emperor smiled. “Both a state visit and a family visit; an opportunity to visit my nephew and his family. Of course, we will be hosting a State Dinner in your honour this evening, but I find it… difficult to carry out substantive discussions at such functions, so I do appreciate you coming by so soon after your arrival so we can talk.”

The Emperor gestured towards the open doors of the castle. “If you would care to accompany Lady Ashley and I.” He looked over at Suniefreda. “My wife and James would be happy to show Suniefreda and the rest of your delegation around the castle. And,” he turned to Admiral Oostmal, “I believe that the Minister of Defence and the Chief of Staff are here and anxious to meet the People’s Commissar for Defence.”

As the delegation began moving towards the door, Lady Ashley leaned towards Hoogaboom. “Your delegation is fine, Your Excellency.” She smiled. “Really, it all depends on how many people you need to feel comfortable with your visit.”

Lady Christina returned to Admiral Oostmal’s side. “Once we’re inside, Admiral, I’ll show to Dr. Anders, the Minister of Defence, and Lord Admiral Turlais.”

[Uncle Noel]

The three primary members of the group thus separated. Suniefreda smiled politely at her immediate hosts but, having over-read and over-thought the dynastic machinations of Excalbia, she could not shake the feeling that she was politely engaging with usurpers.

an opportunity to visit my nephew and his family

'The true Emperor!' though Suniefreda to herself. Why any of this mattered to her she didn't know.
The fact that they seemed so normal, well normal for people who had no need for a surname, only compounded a slight feeling of unease. She shook her head to clear these thoughts. Her father had always said she was too much of a romantic about these things.

* * * *

"Oh good," smiled Oostmal. During the initial few moments of their journey from the airport the Admiral had been keen to jettison this former weathergirl or whatever she was and get to men talking about manly things, like nuclear submarines and intelligence sharing. But the Defence Minister was a stranger in a strange land, and he was now glad now of the friendly face to accompany him that part of the journey.

* * * *
Hoogaboom gave a solemn nod as Lady Ashley spoke. In truth it had been less about how many he felt comfortable in bringing and instead how many he felt comfortable holding the fort, or holding down the fort if you will, back in Anahuac. He had not realised that they were to proceed immediately into formal meetings, perhaps out of ignorance at the executive role of the Emperor, and felt vindicated that he had a small snooze before landing.

[Excalbia]

As the groups separated, Empress Elizabeth began her tour of the Castle complex by leading Suniefreda and the accompanying Anahuacans through the main hall and back outside into the gardens. The garden was beginning to show the very first signs of spring and the Empress took obvious delight in pointing out the different types of flowers and plants that would soon fill the garden with their color and perfume.

The Empress paused at one point and gestured to an island that sat below the cliffs between Citadel Island and the distant left bank of the Valmiera River. “That,” she said with a smile, “is the Imperial Preserve Island.” A large building that appeared to be an orangerie with lots of glass and visible indoor gardens stood among some smaller houses, and a few cultivated fields and barns. “The Summer Palace is there. If it were later in the season, we would be hosting the Chairman’s State Dinner there, rather than at the Imperial Palace.” She turned to Suniefreda. “In a month or so, we’ll be holding the Emperor’s 60th birthday celebration there. You and your uncle should consider attending."

Continuing through the garden, they approached the ancient Citadel of Excalbia. The Citadel was a medieval stone fortress perched on edge of the cliffs overlooking the Valmiera River. ”This Citadel,” the Empress said as they entered the Great Hall, “was built in the 12th century on the site of an earlier 10th century wooden fortress built by the first Balto-Nordic settlers to arrive on the island. In the 13th century, this became the seat of the Baron of Excalbia.” The Empress led the group to a large portrait of a fierce-looking blonde-haired barbarian warlord attired in furs and armor holding a large broadsword, pausing briefly to shoot a stern look at a yawning Prince James. “This,” the Empress continued, “is Alsgood, the Great, the first king of the unified highland kingdom. After his father, the Lord of Valmiera, was murdered as part of an old blood feud, Alsgood decided to put an end to the bloody intercine warfare in the highlands. He made alliances where he could and conquered where he could not. In 1565, he captured this citadel and when he proclaimed himself king, in 1594, he chose to do it here, in this Great Hall and made Citadel Excalbia his capital. It’s been the capital ever since.”

The Empress moved to another large portrait, this one of a young woman in armor, her blonde braids wound tightly around her head and a broadsword in her hands. “This is Queen Hildegaard, the grand-niece of King Alsgood, who came to power after the death of her father in battle. Some of the barons at the time objected to being ruled by ‘a mere girl’,” the Empress said the words with evident sarcasm, “and tried to depose her. She led her army into battle against the rebels and personally slew their leader, the Baron of Turaida, in individual combat. She then turned his castle into a prison for his followers. She eventually married the captain of her army and every ruler since has been one of her direct descendants.”

Prince James, who had positioned himself at Suniefreda’s elbow said in low voice, “And my older sister Rebecca used to tell me that story every time she got mad at me. Then,” he smiled, “she’d chase me around with a stick she used to call Hildegaard’s sword.”

* * *

Lady Christina led Admiral Oostmal down a tile-floored corridor filled with paintings and statues that would have seemed at home in a museum. She stopped at a set of large wooden door and opened them to reveal a large room with a wooden table and finely upholstered chairs. The walls were decorated with nautical-themed paintings ranging from depictions of the Viking-style longboats that the ancient Balto-Nordic peoples had used to colonise the Excablian Isles to sailing ships to a 19th century naval battle between the Excalbian and Knootian fleets to a modern stealth trimaran-hulled aircraft carrier.

Two men stood as the Minister of State and the Anahuacan admiral entered the room. The first was slightly shorter and very thin with brownish blonde hair. He wore a tan suit and round, black-framed glass. The other wore a white naval uniform with lots of gold stripes and medals. Both bowed slightly as Oostmal and Lady Christina entered.

“Admiral,” the Minister of State said, “may I present my cabinet colleague Dr. Arturs Anders, the Minister of Defence, and Lord Admiral Ricards Turlais, the Chief of the Imperial General Staff and the Chief of Imperial Naval Operations. Dr. Anders, my Lord Admiral, Admiral Theoderic Oostmal, the People’s Commissar for Defence.”

Dr. Anders extended his hand to Oostmal. “A pleasure to meet you, Admiral,” he said.

In keeping with naval ettiquette, Turlais neither saluted - the Imperial Navy never saluted indoors - nor offered his hand. Instead, he bowed again to greet the People’s Commissar. “Admiral, welcome. It is a pleasure,” he said.

Lady Christina gestured to the seats around the table. “Should we take our seats and get started?”

* * *

The Emperor and Lady Ashley led Chairman Hoogaboom and his interpreter down another corridor to another set of large wooden doors. Two blue uniformed Imperial Guards in plumed helmets stood beside these doors and opened them as the Emperor approached. The room, known as the Map Room, was decorated with a number of rare and historical maps. A table and a large tile fireplace stood at one end of the room. At the other, four leather cushioned chairs were arranged around a small table in front of a large window.

The Emperor loosened the clasp of his blue cape and a steward in a blue Imperial livery seemed to appear from nowhere to take the cape from the Emperor’s shoulders. “Thank you, Andris,” the Emperor said as he also unbuckled the scabbard that held the Sword of Alsgood, allowing the steward to take it as well.

“Would you care for anything to drink, Mr. Chairman?” As the Emperor spoke, another steward appeared and waited to take the quartet’s requests. After Hoogaboom and his interpreter requested whatever they wished, Lady Ashley and the Emperor both requested coffee.

The Emperor gestured to the chairs near the window. “Please, Mr. Chairman, take a seat.” He opened a large wooden humidor that sat on the small table. “I understand that you’re a pipe smoker, Mr. Chairman. While I don’t keep pipe tobacco on hand, I do have these Esperi cigars that I used to keep on hand for one of my former chancellors, if you would like to try one.”

The steward returned just as the Emperor took his seat and served each person their prefered beverage. Taking his coffee, the Emperor nodded to the steward. “Thank you, Erik.”

David IV sipped his coffee, then set it on the table. “I wish you thank you again for meeting with me so soon after your arrival, Mr. Chairman. I felt that our discussions would be too important to squeze them in on the margins of a crowded State Dinner.”

The Emperor crossed his legs picked up his coffee. “I understand from my ambassador that you have some… concerns about our return to the international scene and that they are related to the Triple Entente and our role in the Iesian Debacle.”

Lady Ashley’s eyebrows climbed her forehead at the Emperor’s use of the word debacle. Although she had been his chancellor for several years, the Emperor still had the capacity to surprise her with his candor at the most unexpected moments.

[Uncle Noel]

As the groups separated, Empress Elizabeth began her tour of the Castle complex by leading Suniefreda and the accompanying Anahuacans through the main hall and back outside into the gardens. The garden was beginning to show the very first signs of spring and the Empress took obvious delight in pointing out the different types of flowers and plants that would soon fill the garden with their color and perfume.

The Empress paused at one point and gestured to an island that sat below the cliffs between Citadel Island and the distant left bank of the Valmiera River. “That,” she said with a smile, “is the Imperial Preserve Island.” A large building that appeared to be an orangerie with lots of glass and visible indoor gardens stood among some smaller houses, and a few cultivated fields and barns. “The Summer Palace is there. If it were later in the season, we would be hosting the Chairman’s State Dinner there, rather than at the Imperial Palace.” She turned to Suniefreda. “In a month or so, we’ll be holding the Emperor’s 60th birthday celebration there. You and your uncle should consider attending."

Suniefreda nodded. She assumed the Empress was referring to her grandfather, not her uncle. She could bring her uncle, but he was a church organist who collected model railways and was pleasant enough but not her first choice for an official delegation. Either way she decided not to correct her.

“I grew up in a palace on an island too” she said absently. She turned and caught the glance of Teiuc Neuctli, an official from the People’s Commissariat for Foreign Affairs whose expertise on protocol had ensured her a place on the trip, albeit it in the third car. Neuctli held the disappointed look of teacher watching her pupil fail a spelling test because they hadn’t done their homework.

“T-though,” said Suniefreda to the Empress, “I’m sure my palace isn’t as nice as yours. I mean, the Ayotochco is probably a dump in comparison. Ha ha…” she trailed off.

Continuing through the garden, they approached the ancient Citadel of Excalbia. The Citadel was a medieval stone fortress perched on edge of the cliffs overlooking the Valmiera River. ”This Citadel,” the Empress said as they entered the Great Hall, “was built in the 12th century on the site of an earlier 10th century wooden fortress built by the first Balto-Nordic settlers to arrive on the island. In the 13th century, this became the seat of the Baron of Excalbia.” The Empress led the group to a large portrait of a fierce-looking blonde-haired barbarian warlord attired in furs and armor holding a large broadsword, pausing briefly to shoot a stern look at a yawning Prince James. “This,” the Empress continued, “is Alsgood, the Great, the first king of the unified highland kingdom. After his father, the Lord of Valmiera, was murdered as part of an old blood feud, Alsgood decided to put an end to the bloody intercine warfare in the highlands. He made alliances where he could and conquered where he could not. In 1565, he captured this citadel and when he proclaimed himself king, in 1594, he chose to do it here, in this Great Hall and made Citadel Excalbia his capital. It’s been the capital ever since.”

“It looks just like Hogwarts,” said Suniefreda as they entered the main hall. Behind her Neuctli slowly died inside. She looked at the portrait of Alsgood. “Is this the sword?” Unlike Oostmal in his questioning of Lady Christina, Suniefreda knew that the sword was real and was still used as a symbol of Imperial power. “Wow, it’s amazing that it’s not gone rusty.”

The Empress moved to another large portrait, this one of a young woman in armor, her blonde braids wound tightly around her head and a broadsword in her hands. “This is Queen Hildegaard, the grand-niece of King Alsgood, who came to power after the death of her father in battle. Some of the barons at the time objected to being ruled by ‘a mere girl’,” the Empress said the words with evident sarcasm, “and tried to depose her. She led her army into battle against the rebels and personally slew their leader, the Baron of Turaida, in individual combat. She then turned his castle into a prison for his followers. She eventually married the captain of her army and every ruler since has been one of her direct descendants.”

It was at this point that another member of the third car stepped forward. Zolph Huszlau was a tall bespectacled man whose lapel sported a pin badge showing the emblem of Intervlug, the airline company of Anahuac. Intervlug’s fleet of aging Soviet aircraft was increasingly falling foul of heightened emission and sound standards in the region which was starting to limit their range. New aircraft were needed, and the Fiefdom was not so proud that it wished to create an entire civilian aviation industry just for the sake of Intervlug. Huszlau’s mission was simply to make enquiries as to whether Excalbia made her own aircraft and, if not, where they sourced these from.

Huszlau also fancied himself, in his spare time, as something of an amateur art historian. “Your Imperial Majesty,” having not spoken since arriving at the Castle he gave a deep bow before proceeding, “Are these contemporary portraits or later artistic interpretations?”

Prince James, who had positioned himself at Suniefreda’s elbow said in low voice, “And my older sister Rebecca used to tell me that story every time she got mad at me. Then,” he smiled, “she’d chase me around with a stick she used to call Hildegaard’s sword.”

Suniefreda smiled. He seemed nice. The younger Hoogaboom had got the impression that this was a tour that the Empress had given many times before. She just needed an umbrella or something similar to hold up so that the members of her tour group could see her as they crossed a busy plaza or a bustling historic monument.

“My brother told me that the old dukes who built the Ayotochco had hidden their treasure somewhere in the palace before the Emperor came to arrest them. He used to send me off through all the nooks and crannies. He thought it was great fun until I fell through some old floorboards and broke my leg. Mother decided that the treasure hunt should stop and my brother admitted that he made the whole thing up. I still think he feels guilty about it to this day, though I barely remember it.”

* * * *

In keeping with naval ettiquette, Turlais neither saluted - the Imperial Navy never saluted indoors - nor offered his hand. Instead, he bowed again to greet the People’s Commissar. “Admiral, welcome. It is a pleasure,” he said.

Lady Christina gestured to the seats around the table. “Should we take our seats and get started?”

Oostmal reciprocated the bow/hand shake and sat down. He briefly pointed at the painting of the steath carrier. “Good aren’t they?” he said, “I confess I wasn’t sure when they were first proposed as we’d always been taught that the value of a carrier is visible force projection but they have their uses. We’ve tended to keep both types of ship in operation and use the older ones for humanitarian work or for when a presence needs to be stated.”

He turned back to the others in the room. “But I suppose there is a debate as to how long the manned fighter has left in the modern combat arena.” He smiled, as a navy man he lacked any of the air force’s misplaced glamorization of subjecting young men to several G when a computer could do it better. “But forgive me I’m rambling.” He waited for the meeting to start, though he confessed to himself he was a little unsure of what precisely they would be discussing and he tried to recall whether he had seen an agenda with the rest of the paperwork that had been sent to him.

* * *

The Emperor and Lady Ashley led Chairman Hoogaboom and his interpreter down another corridor to another set of large wooden doors. Two blue uniformed Imperial Guards in plumed helmets stood beside these doors and opened them as the Emperor approached. The room, known as the Map Room, was decorated with a number of rare and historical maps. A table and a large tile fireplace stood at one end of the room. At the other, four leather cushioned chairs were arranged around a small table in front of a large window.

The Emperor loosened the clasp of his blue cape and a steward in a blue Imperial livery seemed to appear from nowhere to take the cape from the Emperor’s shoulders. “Thank you, Andris,” the Emperor said as he also unbuckled the scabbard that held the Sword of Alsgood, allowing the steward to take it as well.

“Would you care for anything to drink, Mr. Chairman?” As the Emperor spoke, another steward appeared and waited to take the quartet’s requests. After Hoogaboom and his interpreter requested whatever they wished, Lady Ashley and the Emperor both requested coffee.

At some point, no one was entirely sure when, there must have been a not insignificant British influence in the two countries that made up the modern Fiefdom. That explained why they drove on the left, in obstinate refusal to adapt to the wider customs of the region, and it was also the reason why the currency was known as the shilling. It’s also for this reason that the Chairman requested...

“Tea please.” He had resolved that, whilst he was away, he would limit himself to coffee lest he be subjected to an inadequately brewed cup. He reasoned that staff of the Emperor himself would be able to produce a sufficiently satisfactory drink.

The Emperor gestured to the chairs near the window. “Please, Mr. Chairman, take a seat.” He opened a large wooden humidor that sat on the small table. “I understand that you’re a pipe smoker, Mr. Chairman. While I don’t keep pipe tobacco on hand, I do have these Esperi cigars that I used to keep on hand for one of my former chancellors, if you would like to try one.”

The Chairman smiled. ‘Clearly a civilised people,’ he thought as he accepted the proffered cigar. “Thank you” he said in English, having taken the time to learn that particular phrase as well. Once a consistent burn had been achieved he went further. “It is true, sir, that though I usually smoke a pipe, I am not adverse to cigars, especially after meals as it aids digestion.”

There were a few more puffs.

“So I’m told”

The steward returned just as the Emperor took his seat and served each person their prefered beverage. Taking his coffee, the Emperor nodded to the steward. “Thank you, Erik.”

David IV sipped his coffee, then set it on the table. “I wish you thank you again for meeting with me so soon after your arrival, Mr. Chairman. I felt that our discussions would be too important to squeze them in on the margins of a crowded State Dinner.”

The Emperor crossed his legs picked up his coffee. “I understand from my ambassador that you have some… concerns about our return to the international scene and that they are related to the Triple Entente and our role in the Iesian Debacle.”

“Debacle is your word sir,” said Hoogaboom with a smile, “Not mine. And concern is too strong a term; we do not suppose Excalbia to be some great slumbering monster whose waking causes the nations to fall. And nor was it directly related to the Iesus Christi Civil War.”

Hoogaboom regarded the Emperor for a moment. Was he a good judge of character? He liked to think so, though whether age had diminished this as well he couldn’t say. Everything about the Emperor indicated a man in a hurry, both to finish entertaining this foreigner here and jet off to a more familial audience but also a man who wasn’t a professional politician. The General Secretary had woven a great web of words when he’d met the Ambassador in his office, he did not think the Emperor would appreciate such a display. He leant forward slightly and placed his palms on the table.

“Let me frank, sir, Anahuac is a proud nation but we are not so proud that we demand our place in the sun, but we do believe that we deserve at least a place at the table. I don’t mean that the Triple Entente should become the Quadruple Entente, I do not think there is the appetite for that, but your return to the international scene has coincided with a realisation on our part that we have no friends in the region. We have acquaintances, of course, and I accept our share of the blame for that, for we sat in our corner and decided to wait for historical materialism to remake the region into something more congenial. Now I do not deny that historical materialism will remake the Western Atlantic one day,” the general secretary was not about to disavow a key point of Marxism, “But it’s clear that we can’t simply sit and wait for that day.”

Hoogaboom leaned back in his chair, a serious look on his face. “I think, sir, the region is far more dangerous than many of us would like to admit. I will not give the grand sweep of contemporary affairs that I provided to your representative to our country, suffice it to say that in our eyes the potential risks are,” he counted them on his hand, “Aerion, Snefaldia and Allanea. I realise that your government may have an alternative list but I am sure it would not take us both very long to find areas of mutual concern. I invited the Ambassador to speak with me because I thought there might be scope for a limited defensive treaty between our two countries. Perhaps I overestimated the size of the gulf that capitalism and communism puts between us since I did not anticipate either this state visit or the warm reception we have received so far. I come, sir, seeking such a pact. If there is a desire in your government for something greater than this then you will find us happy to reciprocate. If not then I would still consider any steps on the road to friendship to have made this visit worthwhile.”

The General Secretary puffed on his excellent cigar and then smiled. “We are not here because we think that the Triple Entente is the NATO to our Warsaw Pact, because it would be a Pact of one,” he did not include Daytanistan because he had always considered them unreliable, “Nor because we demand access to your pre-existing treaties but to perhaps seek something else. How close or how far that comes to an Entente is up to you and your government.”

[Excalbia]

“I grew up in a palace on an island too” she said absently. She turned and caught the glance of Teiuc Neuctli, an official from the People’s Commissariat for Foreign Affairs whose expertise on protocol had ensured her a place on the trip, albeit it in the third car. Neuctli held the disappointed look of teacher watching her pupil fail a spelling test because they hadn’t done their homework.

“T-though,” said Suniefreda to the Empress, “I’m sure my palace isn’t as nice as yours. I mean, the Ayotochco is probably a dump in comparison. Ha ha…” she trailed off.

The Empress smiled at Suniefreda’s comment. “I’ve only seen pictures of Ayotochco Palace in an old book, but it looked lovely.” She looked around the Great Hall. “And this is far from as elaborate or… refined as the Court of Christ Pantocrator in New Rome.”

“It looks just like Hogwarts,” said Suniefreda as they entered the main hall. Behind her Neuctli slowly died inside. She looked at the portrait of Alsgood. “Is this the sword?” Unlike Oostmal in his questioning of Lady Christina, Suniefreda knew that the sword was real and was still used as a symbol of Imperial power. “Wow, it’s amazing that it’s not gone rusty.”

“Yes,” the Empress said looking up at the portrait, “that is The Sword. It is very old, but it has been very well maintained.” She smiled. “And, fortunately, it hasn’t been used in battle for a very long time.”

As the Empress watched the young woman’s face, she realized that she’d misspoken earlier. “Oh, and I meant your grandfather earlier. I am sorry for the error; I was thinking that your grandfather reminds me of one of my great uncles.”

It was at this point that another member of the third car stepped forward. Zolph Huszlau was a tall bespectacled man whose lapel sported a pin badge showing the emblem of Intervlug, the airline company of Anahuac. Intervlug’s fleet of aging Soviet aircraft was increasingly falling foul of heightened emission and sound standards in the region which was starting to limit their range. New aircraft were needed, and the Fiefdom was not so proud that it wished to create an entire civilian aviation industry just for the sake of Intervlug. Huszlau’s mission was simply to make enquiries as to whether Excalbia made her own aircraft and, if not, where they sourced these from.

Huszlau also fancied himself, in his spare time, as something of an amateur art historian. “Your Imperial Majesty,” having not spoken since arriving at the Castle he gave a deep bow before proceeding, “Are these contemporary portraits or later artistic interpretations?”

“Both portraits,” Empress Elizabeth said, “were done in the late 17th century. Queen Hildegaard sat for hers; King Alsgood’s is based on earlier works in a more primitive style and from written descriptions.”

Suniefreda smiled. He seemed nice. The younger Hoogaboom had got the impression that this was a tour that the Empress had given many times before. She just needed an umbrella or something similar to hold up so that the members of her tour group could see her as they crossed a busy plaza or a bustling historic monument.

“My brother told me that the old dukes who built the Ayotochco had hidden their treasure somewhere in the palace before the Emperor came to arrest them. He used to send me off through all the nooks and crannies. He thought it was great fun until I fell through some old floorboards and broke my leg. Mother decided that the treasure hunt should stop and my brother admitted that he made the whole thing up. I still think he feels guilty about it to this day, though I barely remember it.”

James stifled a laugh as he tried to avoid another sharp look from his mother. “That sounds like a trick Rebecca would have tried on me.” He took a step closer to the young woman. “I hope you eventually had the chance to get even with him. Once I got a little older I started to hide her phones.” He looked around. “I’m sure there’s still one or two stashed around here somewhere.”

* * *

Oostmal reciprocated the bow/hand shake and sat down. He briefly pointed at the painting of the steath carrier. “Good aren’t they?” he said, “I confess I wasn’t sure when they were first proposed as we’d always been taught that the value of a carrier is visible force projection but they have their uses. We’ve tended to keep both types of ship in operation and use the older ones for humanitarian work or for when a presence needs to be stated.”

He turned back to the others in the room. “But I suppose there is a debate as to how long the manned fighter has left in the modern combat arena.” He smiled, as a navy man he lacked any of the air force’s misplaced glamorization of subjecting young men to several G when a computer could do it better. “But forgive me I’m rambling.” He waited for the meeting to start, though he confessed to himself he was a little unsure of what precisely they would be discussing and he tried to recall whether he had seen an agenda with the rest of the paperwork that had been sent to him.

“We find that our Majestic-class carriers provide visible force projection when we want them to,” Lord Admiral Turlais said flatly, “and surprise when need them to do so,” he added with a slowly spreading smile. “As for manned fighters versus unmanned drones, I believe both have their place. And I rather enjoy the opportunity to ramble on a bit with a fellow navy man.”

Dr. Anders cleaned his glasses as the Lord Admiral spoke. Placing them back on his face, he nodded to an aide who has been standing unobtrusively in the corner. The man stepped forward and distributed folders to each of principals before returning to his corner.

“We’ve been looking forward to speaking with you, Admiral.” The Defence Minister gestured to the folder. “We’ve taken the liberty of preparing a notional agenda. We would like to start by hearing from you about your goals for your visit. We are aware that your nation as concerns about the collective security of the region - concerns that we share. Nonetheless, we would welcome the opportunity to hear from you about those concerns, particularly the military dimension. Of course, we will be happy to share our own views on the subject.”

“Secondly,” the Minister continued, “we would like to discuss establishing military-to-military communications. We’ve found that such channels come in handy in the event of crisis, such as a natural disaster.”

“And, finally, for us, we would like to propose some officer exchanges. We’ve found these exchanges useful in the past in building trust between nations.”

* * *

At some point, no one was entirely sure when, there must have been a not insignificant British influence in the two countries that made up the modern Fiefdom. That explained why they drove on the left, in obstinate refusal to adapt to the wider customs of the region, and it was also the reason why the currency was known as the shilling. It’s also for this reason that the Chairman requested...

“Tea please.” He had resolved that, whilst he was away, he would limit himself to coffee lest he be subjected to an inadequately brewed cup. He reasoned that staff of the Emperor himself would be able to produce a sufficiently satisfactory drink.

The Emperor gestured to the chairs near the window. “Please, Mr. Chairman, take a seat.” He opened a large wooden humidor that sat on the small table. “I understand that you’re a pipe smoker, Mr. Chairman. While I don’t keep pipe tobacco on hand, I do have these Esperi cigars that I used to keep on hand for one of my former chancellors, if you would like to try one.”

The Chairman smiled. ‘Clearly a civilised people,’ he thought as he accepted the proffered cigar. “Thank you” he said in English, having taken the time to learn that particular phrase as well. Once a consistent burn had been achieved he went further. “It is true, sir, that though I usually smoke a pipe, I am not adverse to cigars, especially after meals as it aids digestion.”

There were a few more puffs.

“So I’m told”

The steward returned just as the Emperor took his seat and served each person their prefered beverage. Taking his coffee, the Emperor nodded to the steward. “Thank you, Erik.”

David IV sipped his coffee, then set it on the table. “I wish you thank you again for meeting with me so soon after your arrival, Mr. Chairman. I felt that our discussions would be too important to squeze them in on the margins of a crowded State Dinner.”

The Emperor crossed his legs picked up his coffee. “I understand from my ambassador that you have some… concerns about our return to the international scene and that they are related to the Triple Entente and our role in the Iesian Debacle.”

“Debacle is your word sir,” said Hoogaboom with a smile, “Not mine. And concern is too strong a term; we do not suppose Excalbia to be some great slumbering monster whose waking causes the nations to fall. And nor was it directly related to the Iesus Christi Civil War.”

Hoogaboom regarded the Emperor for a moment. Was he a good judge of character? He liked to think so, though whether age had diminished this as well he couldn’t say. Everything about the Emperor indicated a man in a hurry, both to finish entertaining this foreigner here and jet off to a more familial audience but also a man who wasn’t a professional politician. The General Secretary had woven a great web of words when he’d met the Ambassador in his office, he did not think the Emperor would appreciate such a display. He leant forward slightly and placed his palms on the table.

“Let me frank, sir, Anahuac is a proud nation but we are not so proud that we demand our place in the sun, but we do believe that we deserve at least a place at the table. I don’t mean that the Triple Entente should become the Quadruple Entente, I do not think there is the appetite for that, but your return to the international scene has coincided with a realisation on our part that we have no friends in the region. We have acquaintances, of course, and I accept our share of the blame for that, for we sat in our corner and decided to wait for historical materialism to remake the region into something more congenial. Now I do not deny that historical materialism will remake the Western Atlantic one day,” the general secretary was not about to disavow a key point of Marxism, “But it’s clear that we can’t simply sit and wait for that day.”

Hoogaboom leaned back in his chair, a serious look on his face. “I think, sir, the region is far more dangerous than many of us would like to admit. I will not give the grand sweep of contemporary affairs that I provided to your representative to our country, suffice it to say that in our eyes the potential risks are,” he counted them on his hand, “Aerion, Snefaldia and Allanea. I realise that your government may have an alternative list but I am sure it would not take us both very long to find areas of mutual concern. I invited the Ambassador to speak with me because I thought there might be scope for a limited defensive treaty between our two countries. Perhaps I overestimated the size of the gulf that capitalism and communism puts between us since I did not anticipate either this state visit or the warm reception we have received so far. I come, sir, seeking such a pact. If there is a desire in your government for something greater than this then you will find us happy to reciprocate. If not then I would still consider any steps on the road to friendship to have made this visit worthwhile.”

The General Secretary puffed on his excellent cigar and then smiled. “We are not here because we think that the Triple Entente is the NATO to our Warsaw Pact, because it would be a Pact of one,” he did not include Daytanistan because he had always considered them unreliable, “Nor because we demand access to your pre-existing treaties but to perhaps seek something else. How close or how far that comes to an Entente is up to you and your government.”

The Emperor sat back in his chair and listened intently as Hoogaboom spoke. On first impression he rather liked the Chairman. He seemed like a man willing to speak frankly and directly, which the Emperor appreciated. He also liked that he was willing to subordinate ideology to practicality. He somewhat reminded the Emperor of one of his favorite chancellors, Sir Albert Cummings who was also the last man to smoke those cigars.

“To return frankness with frankness,” the Emperor said in a serious, but pleasant tone, “I have outgrown ideology. I was once a committed anti-communist and something of a free-marketeer. What I’ve discovered over the last 20 years is that ideology gives us lenses to view the world and frameworks to discuss how the world works, but none that I’ve seen are fully accurate or satisfactory. Reality is a stubborn thing and it demands that we all adapt our theories and ideologies to fit it; it does not adjust itself to suit us.”

The Emperor smiled. “All that to say that I see the gulf between your communism and our capitalism as no great impediment to amicable relations and even cooperation, provided we can come to agreement on the practical aspects of that cooperation. I certainly hope that at the end of your visit we will have established a bond of friendship between our nations and will have outlined areas for cooperation.”

“With regard to threats to and within the region, I agree that there are real threats out there. We are troubled by some of the developments in Snefaldia since the military dissolved the elected government, but so far we find the Snefaldians to be amenable to diplomacy and we are optimistic that diplomacy may yield positive results. As for Allanea, I will confess to you - as I would say to them directly - that they have always been a bit of an enigma for us. We do have a positive trading relationship with them, but we do understand that they provoke a fair amount of nervousness in many nations of the Western Atlantic. Our biggest concerns within the region are regimes that have proven themselves to be lawless and violent, such as Ostmark under the usurper Dietrich, or that proven themselves to be a military threat to their neighbors, such as Daytanistan.”

The Emperor paused to see the Chairman’s reaction to his inclusion of the region’s other major communist power. “In terms of external threats to the region, we support the idea of a broad agreement among as many of the Western Atlantic’s nations as possible to stand together in the face of any unprovoked external invasion. We are also willing to entertain agreements aimed to deter aggression within region.”

[Uncle Noel]

“Yes,” the Empress said looking up at the portrait, “that is The Sword. It is very old, but it has been very well maintained.” She smiled. “And, fortunately, it hasn’t been used in battle for a very long time.”

As the Empress watched the young woman’s face, she realized that she’d misspoken earlier. “Oh, and I meant your grandfather earlier. I am sorry for the error; I was thinking that your grandfather reminds me of one of my great uncles.”

***

“Both portraits,” Empress Elizabeth said, “were done in the late 17th century. Queen Hildegaard sat for hers; King Alsgood’s is based on earlier works in a more primitive style and from written descriptions.”

“Interesting,” said Huszlau. He regarded the hall around him. “The style of this hall reminds me of Perpendicular, has it been classified as such?”

James stifled a laugh as he tried to avoid another sharp look from his mother. “That sounds like a trick Rebecca would have tried on me.” He took a step closer to the young woman. “I hope you eventually had the chance to get even with him. Once I got a little older I started to hide her phones.” He looked around. “I’m sure there’s still one or two stashed around here somewhere.”

Suniefreda smiled a mischievous smile. “Oh I wasn’t as subtle as that, I bided my time and waited until my brother Flurin was old enough to start bringing girls back. And what better accompaniment to a romantic evening than your little sister, especially if she has some embarrassing photos of you as a child.” She stifled her own laugh, “I shouldn’t laugh, my sister Juut always says it’s rude to laugh at your own jokes, and I was very cruel. He has since married and I am an aunt so I can’t have had that disastrous an effect on his love life”

Suniefreda turned and tried to catch a sharp look from the Empress before she could reply to the ever-questing Huszlau. “Oh please don’t worry about calling grandfather ‘uncle.’ Some old wit years ago decided to compare him to ‘Uncle Joe’ Stalin.” Her forehead wrinkled, “I’m not even sure it was meant as a compliment, I'm not sure how it could be, but it stuck and now some countries only know us now as ‘Uncle Noel’ it’s become that common.”

She smiled as she spoke to James. “It’s the Holland problem. What do you do when everyone calls your country Holland when it’s really the Netherlands? Do you go with it or try and change it?”

* * * *

Nonetheless, we would welcome the opportunity to hear from you about those concerns, particularly the military dimension. Of course, we will be happy to share our own views on the subject.”

“Secondly,” the Minister continued, “we would like to discuss establishing military-to-military communications. We’ve found that such channels come in handy in the event of crisis, such as a natural disaster.”

“And, finally, for us, we would like to propose some officer exchanges. We’ve found these exchanges useful in the past in building trust between nations.”

“I see,” nodded Oostmal, “Well if I may, what is the word, spitball?” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘What an ugly word’ he thought. “For a moment, but I think one area that will become an increasing concern in the coming years which I am not sure whether sufficient resources are being spent across the region is people smuggling.

With large parts of Ambara, for example, still under foreign control I don’t believe the Western Atlantic has seen the post-colonial movement of people that others places have, but I don’t think that situation can last forever, or is as unchanging as we would like to think. The wider region is, more and more, consisting of somewhat brittle autocracies,” the Admiral did not include his own country in this mental list, “And it does not strike us in Anahuac as beyond the realm of possibility that some of these may implode and create a refugee crisis.”

Oostmal shrugged. “As for wider military challenges, I hope I don’t just speak for myself in saying that, when I joined the service, I did not think at this stage of my career that nation-to-nation conflict would have been the primary focus of our defensive thinking. Perhaps, somewhat naively, we had thought that perhaps people would outgrow such tendencies. As it happens we have not, and considerable resources have to be expended on conventional and asymmetric forces. All our countries are having to invest in tanks and cyber security, which isn’t something I don’t think any of us envisaged 20 years ago. If I may momentarily go beyond my brief, and to comment simply as an observer and not as a participant, I am not surprised why some nations, albeit not in this region, have discussed joint procurement as a way of alleviating some of the costs.” He held up his hands, “As I say, that’s only a personal observation.”

“And speaking with a heavy degree of bias I think joint exercises should be an ultimate goal, especially, of course, naval operations. I tell my sons, when they care to listen, that we act like we’re the Tochtepecs, we sit in our remote valley and think ourselves to be the only people in this world and we forget that people may live beyond the mountains that shelter us. If our militaries were used to cooperating then it may deter those raiders from beyond the horizon, the known unknowns, who may otherwise think we are a soft target, and even if an extra-regional threat does not emerge then preparing for it together may serve as a way of de-escalating inter-regional tensions.”

* * * *

The Emperor paused to see the Chairman’s reaction to his inclusion of the region’s other major communist power. “In terms of external threats to the region, we support the idea of a broad agreement among as many of the Western Atlantic’s nations as possible to stand together in the face of any unprovoked external invasion. We are also willing to entertain agreements aimed to deter aggression within region.”

The Chairman nodded. Learning forward slightly he wagged a non-aggressive finger at the Emperor. “We speak of ideology sir,” he began, “And I confess that I remain continually fascinated by Allanea in that respect, for that is a country that is wholly-ideological in everything it does. It is a narrow view of the world, but a few inches wide, but they are rigorous in maintaining it. It certainly puts us to shame,” he laughed.” “I should like to see Liberty-City for myself but,” there was a hint of sadness to his smile, “I do not think my reception would be as warm as it was here.”

“I think, though, there are, or can be, broad areas of agreement. Much of my after-dinner speech is on this very subject, so I would not be so cruel as to subject you to it twice.”

The Chairman leaned back in his chair. “As for Daytanistan,” he sighed, “Well…” he looked at the two Excalbians, “We all have families, and there are things we say within the family that we don’t say in the street.” Hoogaboom briefly thought of the Emperor’s sister but decided in the interests of tact not to say anything. “There is, therefore, not much I can publicly say about a brother socialist nation.”

He leaned across to flick the end of his cigar into the nearby ashtray. He did this with an overly-dramatic flair.

“Privately, there has always been a tendency by some to see true Marxist-Leninism as an inconvenient holdover in the pursuit of power and wealth. Our own party is not immune to this infection, for I know very well that some would like nothing more than to privatise the economy and then retire to their villas in South Epheron with the proceeds of their crime.”

The Chairman was very serious for a moment. “I have always resisted this and will continue to resist it for as long as hold those offices that I do. I fear that the present Daytan leadership has not quite had the same courage in its convictions. But, like the prodigal son, we hold out hopes that they will see the errors of their ways. And until then we seek to limit our liabilities, so to speak.”

“As for Snefaldia, you will forgive me your Majesty,” he nodded toward Lady Ashley, “Madam, but you have the benefit of not being an immediate, and smaller, neighbour. If I have a regret it is that we did not attempt any sort of rapprochement when the opportunity availed itself. But we didn’t and we are where we are. Democracies are not normally wont to invade their neighbours, I have found juntas to be far less squeamish in this regard. If you are able to have a mediating influence through your links then, again, that would aid the overall cause of peace.”

[Excalbia]

Interesting,” said Huszlau. He regarded the hall around him. “The style of this hall reminds me of Perpendicular, has it been classified as such?”

The Empress tilted her head to the left. “It does have those traits, doesn’t it?” She let her eyes wander over the Great Hall for a moment before returning to Huszlau. “The Citadel was originally built in the Romanesque style - you can see that today mostly in the exterior. The Gothic elements were added later - about the 14th century. With the decline in contact between Excalbia and the Balto-Nordic region, changes in architectural style seemed to migrate more slowly. When the Great Hall was redone in the 16th century, the Perpendicular elements you see were added to built on the Gothic renovations.”

Suniefreda smiled a mischievous smile. “Oh I wasn’t as subtle as that, I bided my time and waited until my brother Flurin was old enough to start bringing girls back. And what better accompaniment to a romantic evening than your little sister, especially if she has some embarrassing photos of you as a child.” She stifled her own laugh, “I shouldn’t laugh, my sister Juut always says it’s rude to laugh at your own jokes, and I was very cruel. He has since married and I am an aunt so I can’t have had that disastrous an effect on his love life”

James stifled another laugh, both at Suniefreda’s story and his efforts to try picture her as an aunt after the fashion of his aunt Christiana or his great aunt Michelle.

Suniefreda turned and tried to catch a sharp look from the Empress before she could reply to the ever-questing Huszlau. “Oh please don’t worry about calling grandfather ‘uncle.’ Some old wit years ago decided to compare him to ‘Uncle Joe’ Stalin.” Her forehead wrinkled, “I’m not even sure it was meant as a compliment, I'm not sure how it could be, but it stuck and now some countries only know us now as ‘Uncle Noel’ it’s become that common.”

The Empress smiled at Suniefreda. “I can see how that would cause confusion. And I share your doubts about whether or not a comparison to Stalin would be a complement. However, in my case, any confusion with my uncle Ilmars is a complement. He was a dear man.”

She smiled as she spoke to James. “It’s the Holland problem. What do you do when everyone calls your country Holland when it’s really the Netherlands? Do you go with it or try and change it?”

“Similar to one of the perils of being a prince,” James said still smiling, “people tend to forget that my name is James. In Pantocratoria or the Caldan Union and even here, I get ‘Your Highnessed’ to death and if we visit a republic, everyone calls me Prince. Makes it sound like I’m a pet Labrador.” He leaned closer and lightly touched Suniefreda’s arm. “So, I hope you’ll just call me James.”

* * *

Dr. Anders rubbed his chin and nodded as Oostmal spoke. “I think you raise an interesting point, Admiral. We have seen the reverberations of Dietrich’s depredations in Ostmark and I agree that we have not adequately considered the possibility of further large scale refugee flows. I think it would be very worthwhile to discuss this point further. I would like to hear more of your analysis of the situation in Ambara and any recommendations you may have for preparing for such a humanitarian crisis.”

The Minister turned and nodded almost imperceptibly to Lord Admiral Turlais. Turlais bobbed his head once and turned towards Oostmal, his hands folded together on the top of the table.

“Admiral,” Turlais began, “I heartily support your notion of joint naval exercises. I think that developing the ability to work together in search and rescue operation, disaster relief, and interdiction missions will play tremendous immediate dividends. And, as you say, it will give outside aggressors something to think about before they take any precipitous actions.

“Such exercises,” Turlais continued, “will also help advance the development of military-to-military communications. The channels developed for the exercises will make it easier to manage any future crisis.”

* * *

The Emperor gave a knowing smile as Hoogaboom spoke about Daytanistan as if it were a badly behaving relatively. As the Chairman said, every family had such relatives. The smile faded as the conversation turned to Snefaldia.

“I understand your concerns, Mr. Chairman,” the Emperor said after pausing for a sip of his coffee. “Our chief goal in the region is to promote peace and stability. We are certainly willing to do whatever we can to promote the cause of peace.”

The Emperor sat back for a moment, as if contemplating his coffee, then set the cup down and leaned forward. “I believe that we do have here some areas of general agreement.” He smiled at the Chairman. “I think that despite any ideological differences, we are both interested in avoiding conflicts and deterring aggression.” He looked towards Lady Ashley and nodded. “I’m sure that you and the Chancellor will be able to work out the details, just as I’m certain your Admiral Oostmal and Lord Admiral Turlais will be able to put their heads together on areas of military cooperation, which will, of course, play its own role in deterring aggression.”

The Emperor took his cup again and leaned back in his chair. “I am looking forward to hearing your remarks at dinner. Mine will likely be brief. I find my ministers prefer it that way.” He flashed a smile towards the Chancellor as if sharing a private joke.

“So,” the Emperor said in a more serious tone, “Mr. Chairman, tell me your assessment of the current situation in the Western Atlantic. Beyond, of course, Snefaldia and Daytanistan.”

[Uncle Noel]

The Empress tilted her head to the left. “It does have those traits, doesn’t it?” She let her eyes wander over the Great Hall for a moment before returning to Huszlau. “The Citadel was originally built in the Romanesque style - you can see that today mostly in the exterior. The Gothic elements were added later - about the 14th century. With the decline in contact between Excalbia and the Balto-Nordic region, changes in architectural style seemed to migrate more slowly. When the Great Hall was redone in the 16th century, the Perpendicular elements you see were added to built on the Gothic renovations.”

Huszlau opened his mouth to express his admiration at the excellent vaulting in the hall when Neuctli appeared at the taller man’s elbow. The look she gave conveyed a wide range of emotions but was expressly concerning the fact that they’d now spent long enough in the Hall and perhaps it might be best to let the Empress continue with her tour. It was, after all, getting a little chilly.

“Similar to one of the perils of being a prince,” James said still smiling, “people tend to forget that my name is James. In Pantocratoria or the Caldan Union and even here, I get ‘Your Highnessed’ to death and if we visit a republic, everyone calls me Prince. Makes it sound like I’m a pet Labrador.” He leaned closer and lightly touched Suniefreda’s arm. “So, I hope you’ll just call me James.”

Suniefreda swept her right hand to hook a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay then James,” she spoke his name in a manner similar to a sommelier trying the wine, “But in that case you can call me Sunie. Only my parents and oupa [for without realising it she had used her native word for “grandfather”] call me Suniefreda, and if we’re going to abandon all sense of protocol and decorum,” her eyes flashed conspiratorially and she pretended to adopt a pompous tone to her voice “Then you might as well let standards slide.”

* * *

Dr. Anders rubbed his chin and nodded as Oostmal spoke. “I think you raise an interesting point, Admiral. We have seen the reverberations of Dietrich’s depredations in Ostmark and I agree that we have not adequately considered the possibility of further large scale refugee flows. I think it would be very worthwhile to discuss this point further. I would like to hear more of your analysis of the situation in Ambara and any recommendations you may have for preparing for such a humanitarian crisis.”

Perhaps realising that he had roamed too far from his brief the Admiral became defensive. “Well obviously,” he spluttered, “I am not party to any specific intelligence regarding Ambara, and certainly we in Anahuac have no operations in the area at the present time.”

The legalistic reply to this question gave lie to the fact that attempts had been made, in the past, to stir up revolutionary feeling amongst the native Ambaran population by members of the Anahuacan security forces in the past. Such efforts had, clearly, come to nought and had since been abandoned.

“That said, I think elements within the Pantocratorian and Caldan administrations are mistaking acquiescence with loyalty in Ambara, with much of the present peace in the area resulting from a relatively-flexible colonial framework and the benefits of development and subsidy that come from the Metropole. We don’t need to move too far away from the bell curve projections to foresee a scenario where economic crisis at home prompts those territories in Ambara to question their continued union with the mother country. I am sure I am not the only one who remembers the terrorist group, the Sons of the Reformation, that caused significant infrastructure damage and civilian losses in Marlund and the surrounding area. Just because they have now left the theatre and are no longer a credible threat does not mean the conditions that gave rise to them have also ceased.”

Oostmal nodded towards Turlais. “I think joint operations can help prepare both our navies for a possible humanitarian crisis in Ambara and any large scale movement of people. As for how such a crisis can be prevented,” the admiral gave a small shrug, “That is a political rather than a military question. Neither of our two countries have a, as they say, a dog in the fight so we have to press upon those governments with extensive holdings in the region either to make necessary preparations in event of civil unrest or, perhaps ideally but unrealistically, relinquish these territories. Hopefully a combined effort on our parts to show that we take seriously the issue with convey upon Pantocratoria, the Caldans and Abt to treat the issue with the same degree of urgency.”

* * * *

The Emperor took his cup again and leaned back in his chair. “I am looking forward to hearing your remarks at dinner. Mine will likely be brief. I find my ministers prefer it that way.” He flashed a smile towards the Chancellor as if sharing a private joke.

Hoogaboom smiled, though he failed to make any promise of brevity on his part.

“So,” the Emperor said in a more serious tone, “Mr. Chairman, tell me your assessment of the current situation in the Western Atlantic. Beyond, of course, Snefaldia and Daytanistan.”

The General Secretary raised his shoulders and held out his palms in a shrug. “I’m not sure what else I can really say, sir. We have worries regarding Aerion’s direction of travel but nothing substantial and we could be, and I hope we are, mistaken”

The General Secretary took his cup for the first time, conscious that his monologue on the region had allowed his drink to cool. He too leaned back in his chair. “If we are to build mutual cooperation the perhaps I ought to ask you the same question. What is you, and your government’s, assessment of the region? For example I have heard much talk of the usurper Dietrich but I will confess that I had not paid the issue too much attention. The stripling returns, murders his father, desecrates the churches of his ancestors.” He drew on his cigar. “It is unfortunate, certainly for the father, but we have heard little from them in some time, unless there are some developments of which you are aware that we are not. Was that crisis ever resolved?" he looked to his translator Popochcaxitl but was greeted by a blank look.

[Excalbia]

Suniefreda swept her right hand to hook a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay then James,” she spoke his name in a manner similar to a sommelier trying the wine, “But in that case you can call me Sunie. Only my parents and oupa [for without realising it she had used her native word for “grandfather”] call me Suniefreda, and if we’re going to abandon all sense of protocol and decorum,” her eyes flashed conspiratorially and she pretended to adopt a pompous tone to her voice “Then you might as well let standards slide.”

James gave a sly smile. “I rather like letting some standards slide, Sunie.” He said her name softly like it was a shared secret. “Perhaps sometime while you and your grandfather are here, I can sneak you away for a little while and show you that Citadel Excalbia is more than chilly old castles and stuff politicians.”

* * *

Dr. Anders shifted in his seat. “Yes, terrorism does remain a threat, even if the terrorists have temporarily been driven back into hiding,” he said glossing over the discussion of Pantocratorian and Caldan policies in Ambara. Given the Emperor’s close personal relationships with both monarchs, it was in any minister’s interest to tread carefully in the face of even veiled criticism of the Empire’s two closest allies.

“We also remain concerned,” the Defence Minister quickly added, “about the potential for a humanitarian crisis in the Ostmark and the other remnants of the Westbund. We foresee the potential for additional violence there and, as a result, a potential for large scale refugee flows. We continue to have similar concerns about Zamimbia and South Epheron, where the potential for violence and refugee flows remain high.”

“Which brings us back to joint naval exercises,” Lord Admiral Turlais began, “as the foundation of possible future joint humanitarian exercises. Of course,” he traded a look with Dr. Anders and Lady Christina, “to prevent any misinterpretation of those exercises, we would suggest hosting them somewhere… removed from these potential trouble spots. The Skralins Islands would be a good candidate. The islands are somewhat isolated but offer similar conditions to what we might encounter in southern Epheron, Ambara or the Westbund and we have a large naval station there that could easily support such activities.”

* * *

The General Secretary took his cup for the first time, conscious that his monologue on the region had allowed his drink to cool. He too leaned back in his chair. “If we are to build mutual cooperation the perhaps I ought to ask you the same question. What is you, and your government’s, assessment of the region? For example I have heard much talk of the usurper Dietrich but I will confess that I had not paid the issue too much attention. The stripling returns, murders his father, desecrates the churches of his ancestors.” He drew on his cigar. “It is unfortunate, certainly for the father, but we have heard little from them in some time, unless there are some developments of which you are aware that we are not. Was that crisis ever resolved?" he looked to his translator Popochcaxitl but was greeted by a blank look.

The Emperor frowned at his coffee at the mention of Dietrich. “Yes, Dietrich.” He looked up and tried to extinguish his frown. “One of the ‘frozen conflicts’ that sit like landmines under the peaceful landscape of the Western Atlantic.” With a half shrug and a sip of cooling coffee, he continued: “The Ostmark Crisis was one of the incidents that fueled our… introspective turn. It seemed clear to us, and to many of Dietrich’s neighbors, that he was a petty tyrant who overturned his own father’s government by murder, seizing his father’s throne and his own mother for a wife, and who launched a reign of terror against his own citizens.” The Emperor shook his head. “After the Iesian Fiasco, I wasn’t surprised that Pantocratoria and the Caldan Union had no desire to engage in another conflict. Neither did we, really. Yet, it seemed so clear that the legitimate government needed to be restored and the people saved from this… beast.

“We were shocked when Knootoss seemed to abandon the cause of liberty and democracy to protect Dietrich.” The Emperor gave a dry, hollow grunt. “In hindsight, I can see that they were looking beyond Ostmark and its people to the possible disintegration of the Westbund, and they feared that open war with Ostmark would hasten that disintegration. And they might have had a point.” The Emperor shook his head. “In any case, Daytanistan invaded, carved off a chunk of the country and proclaimed it to be Narvasar. And there we stand. All the tensions of the original conflict - Dietrich’s threat to human rights inside the Ostmark, his neighbors’ concerns about the instability of his regime and their concern about a renewed Daytan attempt to occupy the country…” The Emperor laughed a dry, humourless laugh. “All the tension with none of the bloody battle. We also have the on-going skirmishes between Zamimbia and South Epheron - another ‘frozen conflict’.”

The Emperor sighed. Then smiled. “Fortunately, not all is gloomy. Despite these… ongoing problems, our region as a whole is peaceful and prosperous. I think that our greatest task is to, as we discussed earlier, provide for mutual defence in the face of any outside attack and ensure that we have the kind of relationships that will allow us to collectively manage these… sore spots, if you will, and to prevent internal conflicts.”

The Emperor laughed. “But now I’m giving away my after dinner remarks.”

[Uncle Noel]

James gave a sly smile. “I rather like letting some standards slide, Sunie.” He said her name softly like it was a shared secret. “Perhaps sometime while you and your grandfather are here, I can sneak you away for a little while and show you that Citadel Excalbia is more than chilly old castles and stuff politicians.”

“Why James I think that would be very nice indeed,” smiled Suniefreda. She then laughed to herself. “Do all your official guests get a special tour?” she teased.

** * *

possible future joint humanitarian exercises. Of course,” he traded a look with Dr. Anders and Lady Christina, “to prevent any misinterpretation of those exercises, we would suggest hosting them somewhere… removed from these potential trouble spots. The Skralins Islands would be a good candidate. The islands are somewhat isolated but offer similar conditions to what we might encounter in southern Epheron, Ambara or the Westbund and we have a large naval station there that could easily support such activities.”

If Oostmal was aware of how Anders’ unease then he either did not notice it or comment upon it. If he had then he probably would have thought that it was the role of service personnel to provide their political masters, elected or otherwise, the necessary truth. “I agree,” he said after Turlais spoke, “It would serve no interests in escalating tensions when the entire point of the joint exercises is to serve as a mechanism for reducing tensions.”

Oostmal leaned back in his chair. “How soon do we want to start making the appropriate arrangements for this? Will this be an inter-service affair or will it require a broader agreement signed between our respective Heads of Government?”
* * * *

The Emperor sighed. Then smiled. “Fortunately, not all is gloomy. Despite these… ongoing problems, our region as a whole is peaceful and prosperous. I think that our greatest task is to, as we discussed earlier, provide for mutual defence in the face of any outside attack and ensure that we have the kind of relationships that will allow us to collectively manage these… sore spots, if you will, and to prevent internal conflicts.”

The Emperor laughed. “But now I’m giving away my after dinner remarks.”

Hoogaboom smiled. ‘This is going well’, he thought, better than he had expected. He then considered the bulk of what the Emperor said and a more serious look came upon his face. “The Westbund remains a ongoing point of concern,” he said with a nod, “As are South Epheron’s frankly imperialist policies in their own country, and their neighbours.” Hoogaboom sighed.

“If I may, though, there is one point of concern that I was tempted to mention before but declined but which I feel ought to be referred to, which is Pantocratoria.” The General Secretary held up his hands. “Before I begin I should say that we in Anahuac have always had very warm relations with Pantocratoria, despite our marked differences, and therefore I do not say this as a man with, as they say, an axe to grind, however it is also the rhinoceros in the room…”

“Elephant in the room” correct Popochcaxitl.

“Whatever, it is a large animal that we ought not to be able to miss but which people do, and that is the election results. We, sir,” he motioned towards the Emperor, “Have very different politics but, to return frankness with frankness with frankness, hopefully you will agree that recent developments have been….troubling.” A hand was held up again. “This is not an indictment of their Imperial Family, to whom I know your majesty is bound by ties of marriage, but rather to the body politic and the rise of the Party for National Action. It behoves me to say that this is the area of greatest concern. Ostmark is Ostmark,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “And I realise that nothing so animates a Communist as complaining about Fascists, but even a coalition with such a party does not bode well for the future of the international order that we have exhaustively discussed. And I say this without any hope that we may be part of the that solution, we are but helpless bystanders, but….” he sighed again, “I am not so sure that what I had previously thought impossible is quite as remote.”

There were a few moments of silence. “On perhaps a more positive note, and to venture from such high-politics, there were a few other points on which I had hoped to make progress on during my visit here. A reduction on visas for travel might be one; I don’t want to sound like a salesman but if there is an advantage to having been so isolated it is that there has been a tremendous, if to my mind surprising, boom in tourism. And although I did indicate to your ambassador that free trade areas were not a primary cause of our concern, a reduction in tariffs in certain areas would be an area we would like to explore.” He laughed. “Other people’s economies are as boring as other people’s dreams so I will not indulge your patience for too long, but many years of work and investment in I.T. systems have produced an economy which actually works, so that actual trade of things that people actually want is now no longer such a remote possibility.”

“But that is a secondary objective to our primary, diplomatic one” he said in closing.The General Secretary wondered whether the meeting was drawing to a natural conclusion but waited to see whether his comments on the Party for National Action had caused any Imperial Offence.

[Excalbia]

“Why James I think that would be very nice indeed,” smiled Suniefreda. She then laughed to herself. “Do all your official guests get a special tour?” she teased.

James’ smile broadened into a grin. “Only the most intriguing and beautiful guests, Sunie.” He glanced over and noticed his mother moving the tour along back towards the entry hall of the Castle.

“I think we’re winding up,” James said in a hushed voice. “You and your grandfather and the rest of your people will be back tonight for a State Dinner. I’ll make sure that we’re seated together.” He smiled again. “And then we can make our plans for a special tour tomorrow. Your grandfather and the rest will be in meetings with the Cabinet all day, I imagine. So we’ll be free to have a bit of fun.”

* * *

If Oostmal was aware of how Anders’ unease then he either did not notice it or comment upon it. If he had then he probably would have thought that it was the role of service personnel to provide their political masters, elected or otherwise, the necessary truth. “I agree,” he said after Turlais spoke, “It would serve no interests in escalating tensions when the entire point of the joint exercises is to serve as a mechanism for reducing tensions.”

Oostmal leaned back in his chair. “How soon do we want to start making the appropriate arrangements for this? Will this be an inter-service affair or will it require a broader agreement signed between our respective Heads of Government?”

Lady Christina spoke up to answer Oostmal’s question. “I believe that we intend to propose an article on military cooperation, including joint exercises and an officer exchange program, as part of a the broader agreement.” The Minister of State smiled a perfect gleaming white smile. “However, Admiral, I have enough confidence in our ability to conclude an acceptable agreement that I see no reason that you and Lord Admiral Turlais cannot begin making arrangements for the exercise as soon as your meeting tomorrow.”

The Minister glanced at a sleek gold watch on her wrist. “I suspect that the Emperor and the Chairman are near the conclusion of their meeting and I know that it has been a long day for you and your delegation.” She flashed a sincere look of sympathy. “I suspect that your colleagues might appreciate an opportunity to refresh themselves before the State Dinner tonight.” She nodded towards Turlais. “The Lord Admiral will have the opportunity to introduce you to the rest of the senior Admiralty and General Staff at the dinner. And tomorrow, you and the Admiralty can begin planning for the exercises. If all that meets with your approval, of course.”

* * *

Hoogaboom smiled. ‘This is going well’, he thought, better than he had expected. He then considered the bulk of what the Emperor said and a more serious look came upon his face. “The Westbund remains a ongoing point of concern,” he said with a nod, “As are South Epheron’s frankly imperialist policies in their own country, and their neighbours.” Hoogaboom sighed.

“If I may, though, there is one point of concern that I was tempted to mention before but declined but which I feel ought to be referred to, which is Pantocratoria.” The General Secretary held up his hands. “Before I begin I should say that we in Anahuac have always had very warm relations with Pantocratoria, despite our marked differences, and therefore I do not say this as a man with, as they say, an axe to grind, however it is also the rhinoceros in the room…”

“Elephant in the room” correct Popochcaxitl.

“Whatever, it is a large animal that we ought not to be able to miss but which people do, and that is the election results. We, sir,” he motioned towards the Emperor, “Have very different politics but, to return frankness with frankness with frankness, hopefully you will agree that recent developments have been….troubling.” A hand was held up again. “This is not an indictment of their Imperial Family, to whom I know your majesty is bound by ties of marriage, but rather to the body politic and the rise of the Party for National Action. It behoves me to say that this is the area of greatest concern. Ostmark is Ostmark,” he said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “And I realise that nothing so animates a Communist as complaining about Fascists, but even a coalition with such a party does not bode well for the future of the international order that we have exhaustively discussed. And I say this without any hope that we may be part of the that solution, we are but helpless bystanders, but….” he sighed again, “I am not so sure that what I had previously thought impossible is quite as remote.”

There were a few moments of silence. “On perhaps a more positive note, and to venture from such high-politics, there were a few other points on which I had hoped to make progress on during my visit here. A reduction on visas for travel might be one; I don’t want to sound like a salesman but if there is an advantage to having been so isolated it is that there has been a tremendous, if to my mind surprising, boom in tourism. And although I did indicate to your ambassador that free trade areas were not a primary cause of our concern, a reduction in tariffs in certain areas would be an area we would like to explore.” He laughed. “Other people’s economies are as boring as other people’s dreams so I will not indulge your patience for too long, but many years of work and investment in I.T. systems have produced an economy which actually works, so that actual trade of things that people actually want is now no longer such a remote possibility.”

“But that is a secondary objective to our primary, diplomatic one” he said in closing.The General Secretary wondered whether the meeting was drawing to a natural conclusion but waited to see whether his comments on the Party for National Action had caused any Imperial Offence.

The Emperor kept his expression neutral and unreadable as Hoogaboom began discussing Pantocratorian politics. When the Chairman had finished, the Emperor crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. “Pantocratoria is… our oldest ally. It is hard to imagine anything would drive us apart. Emperor Andreus and I are, of course, co-grandparents to our young Princess Elizabeth, who someday - God willing - will be Empress of Excalbia. However, it is true that Pantocratorian politics have, from time to time, attracted an extremist element.” He steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “The success of the National Action Party is… troubling. We have no tolerance for Fascists. And neither do the Pantocratorians, really. However, demagogues do what demagogues do: they lie and deceive. They tell people the world has gone wrong and that only they have the solution. That’s the sad part really. Most people rarely choose to vote for Fascists, but they do place their trust and hope in the wrong people.” The Emperor let out a sigh. “Of course, as you note, we are but observers in this play. It’s up to the Pantocratorian political leadership now.” The Emperor allowed himself a faint smile. “Of course, if they were to solicit our advice or if an opportunity to offer it were to present itself, we would counsel that broad coalition government, even one too broad to be sustainable in the long-term, would be preferable to a coalition with the Fascists. When we faced a constitutional crisis a decade ago, a broad left-right coalition - short-lived though it was - played a significant role in restoring balance and order. I would hope it would do the same in Pantocratoria.”

As the discussion turned to more pleasant topics, the Emperor smiled. “Visa liberalisation, trade and other sorts of exchanges should all be doable.” The Emperor nodded towards Lady Ashley. “I am certain that you and Lady Ashley will be able to work out all the details in your meetings tomorrow.” The Emperor stood. “I again wish to thank you for coming to see me directly from the airport. I have enjoyed our conversation, but I think that should allow you a bit of rest before our State Dinner tonight.”