For better or worse, the Caldan Union had a bit of reputation for cultural navel-gazing. Caldans, at least in most of historical Caldas, were part of what sociologists called the Anglo-Celtic macroculture along with Leagrans, Lanerians, Excalbians, Soveriegn Statesians, Upper Virginians, Finarans, Gantarans, and parts of Allanea. Caldan English, for all its vaulted independence, was 75% Johnson and 25% Webster. It was only a few centuries since Caldas, Laneria, and Leagran had all simply been British Vasconia. Add to that the cultural changes associated with the recent Dominion reforms, which saw four former Dominions with rather different backgrounds admitted as full Provinces, and the seeming disintegration of the Western Atlantic as former allies drifted away and military authoritarians, self-proclaimed empresses, and far-right populists threatened the democratic order, and Caldans were understandably concerned with defining themselves and their place in the world. This concern was reflected in nearly every area of life.
It was in popular music. Dame Emma Holt's 'Welcome to Caldas' had actually played a role in the recent constitutional reforms. All proceeds from the Welcome to Caldas Tour had gone to the Yes for Caldas campaign and the tour itself, which also featured a who's who of other Caldan stars, had been a plea for an inclusive, united Caldan Union. Meanwhile, Ian Avakian's hit 'Made in Caldas' was climbing the charts with its catchy references to Caldan culture and Stephen Bishop's hit 'Party in the Whole C.U' was the club song of the spring. A bit less positively, the Caldan Western chart-topper for the last five weeks had been Charles Foy's 'A County I Used to Know' lamenting the loss of the Caldas of his childhood. A different audience and a different sentiment, held deeply by some.
There had also been some important books on Caldan identity published recently. Former prime minister Amber Trinh, now Lady Trinh, wrote an extensive book on Caldan self-perception, linking it to romanticism. She saw this, rather than any political ideas, as being the lasting legacy of the Jacobites. It was even, in her view, the explanation for the disastrous policy which had born such bad results in Alekthos, a policy of not merely letting in individual immigrants but chartering whole settlements for homogeneous groups of refugees looking to establish a way of life. It was not the act of ordinary compassion or of liberal humanism but of a romanticism which had grown to find its own national story too stable and quotidian and had fallen in love with the romantic myths of other nations. It was likely overstated but there was some truth there. At any rate, it was a more novel thesis than the one in Philip Davies book, another virtuous but unimaginative discussion of the Caldan mosaic.
Most importantly, however, was a publication by a man named Christopher Randolph on the future of the Western Atlantic from the Caldan perspective. The book not only discussed regional history at length but imagined, in purely hypothetical and aspirational terms, a future Atlantic agreement which Randolph claimed would address the problems now besetting the region and promote harmony, integration, freedom, and democracy. His proposal explicitly superseded the existing Atlantic treaties, one included an expansive array of Western Atlantic nations including nations like Snefaldia and Balthorvia which had not been party to previous treaties, controversially made the human rights provision aspirational except for enforceable prohibitions on slavery and genocide, and which he allowed might, under the right circumstances, include a currency union. Randolph had no official government post and his book was not by any means policy. It was the work of a prominent professor at Bartlet University. However, Randolph was an influential theorist in Labour circles and had been for years, one whose books and articles were almost required reading among the party faithful. Many believed his ideas gave some hint to the slow but steady workings of the Foster Government's foreign policy thinking. Foster had announced engagement with Snefaldia, a policy recently tested when the Snefaldians had arrested two journalists. She had attempted to shore up the alliance with Pantocratoria, including by symbolic gestures like advising the Queen to establish her own dynastic herald at the Imperial Court, something favoured by the Pantocratorians. However, Randolph had nothing to say about three of the Caldan Union's most important relationships. Foster had promised a reset with New Edom and with Xirnium. The first was plodding along but never quite seemed to come to fruition. As for the second, Foster was scheduled to travel to the Eternal Republic soon. It would be her first major trip abroad as prime minister. Allanea also loomed large and yet the Government's policy remained one of almost pointed ambiguity. Dangerous friend? Mortal enemy? No one quite seemed to know.
VIP Lounge, Below
Caer Gawen, Tasat
Caer Gawen was the entertainment capital of the Caldan Union and one of the premier entertainment centres in the Western Atlantic and the world. For some, perhaps most, of the people from all over the globe who came together to create film, music, television, and theatre, it was a job to be left behind at the end of the day. Even some major Caldan actors like Eugene Henrie and Selena Harden claimed they did the same, limiting all their social media and public appearances to discussion and promotion of their actual work and leading allegedly ordinary home lives. However, for many Caldan actors, musicians, models, and socialites, the Caer Gawen celebrity social scene was the greatest performance of all, with an extravagance that rivaled the royal court in Tarana and and a sense of excess which parodied the financial titans in Narich. Below, an underground dance club, was one of the most exclusive spots in the city.
At first glance, Below was not that different than any other dance club. Beautiful people, mostly in their twenties, danced and drank and chatted in fashionable outfits. While a recognisable song occasionally played, the music was mostly a constant beat which sampled liberally from the pop and dance charts. The only thing that made Below different was that some of those young people were the most famous names in the Caldan Union and others the sorts of high profile entertainment industry insiders celebrities flocked to see. It was exclusive only because it was exclusive. Tonight, the actress Claudia McGarry was here with the model Cordelia Grant and the singer Onée Reeve, all gossiping and drinking in a booth off to the side. Claudia was famously dating Prince Andrew but the tabloids were full of reports that she worried about his trip to Pantocratoria, where he was allegedly looking for a wife of suitable rank. Even Emma Holt was there, dancing with her boyfriend, Jack Gore, a man known for, well, being Emma Holt’s boyfriend.
Pop star Lise Charest, the same who had been attacked in Pantocratoria by Action National militants, entered wearing a simple but elegantly tailored little black dress. She was accompanied by Hannah Herrnstein, Courtney Walker, and Skye Anderson. The other three women were not particularly famous, merely close friends of Lise. Nonetheless, they fit in well enough. Hannah had wavy red hair and freckles and wore a cheerful if rather short blue dress. Courtney was a short girl with night dark hair in a black dress fit for the club and Skye was dressed in black jeans, high heeled boots, and a matching blouse and jacket. All three were looking curiously around the party but Lise herself looked rather distracted as she headed for the bar.
Prince Annibale Neujnôry, a titled nobleman of no particularly close kinship to the royal House of Athväryäna, glanced briefly at Lise as he sipped a small-batch craft beer out of a thin-stemmed pilsner glass. His arm was close to though not quite touching the honey-brown body of a bright young thing with long blonde hair, soot-black lashes and naked arms. The dress she wore was a short sequined job with straps, hem above her knees, and the audacious heels made her calf muscles flex. He was dark haired, with deep violet sunglasses over his eyes and body tricked out in a minutely tailored, dark-blue, double-breasted Hettie Agathrazân suit.
Lise leaned over the bar next to Prince Annibale, her own bare, olive-brown arm almost but not quite brushing the silk sleeve of his shirt. She gave him and the blonde a distracted smile before she spoke to the bartender. ‘Lemon drop,’ she ordered, ‘two screwdrivers and a rum and coke.’
Prince Annibale grinned back, half turning at the other woman’s close proximity, and even his blonde company gave an extra two teeth in a friendly smile. They had both recognised Lise, though they were cool about it, as you were expected to be Below.
‘Will you be able to carry all those drinks?’ the blonde asked, fluently and expertly in English, with a fixed, bright smile. Prince Annibale smiled at the question.
‘They normally give you a tray,’ Lise said, ‘although, if you’d like to join us…’ She returned the blonde’s smile warmly.
‘We don’t want to impose,’ said Prince Annibale at the same moment that his female company said: ‘We’d love to.’ They both laughed together, Prince Annibale because he had been making so much progress with her while they had been alone. ‘I mean sure,’ he said.
‘Great!’ Lise said cheerfully, grabbing the lemon drop for herself and also the rum and coke. She allowed her new companions to carry the two screwdrivers. She led the way over to where her friends had gotten a booth, sliding in and self-consciously tugging her little black dress down to cover her upper thighs. She handed the rum and coke to Courtney. ‘These are…’ It was only then she realised she had not actually gotten the names of her guests. She shot them an inquiring look.Courtney looked to the newcomers curiously. Hannah and Skye looked to what must be their drinks.
The blonde flashed her teeth in a wide inane smile. ‘I’m Ingrid,’ she said, and then sipped furiously from her straw, as though trying to think. Her drink was soda water, sugar, lime juice and gin. ‘Annibale,’ said the man carefully, low-key checking Lise out while she fidgeted. Her dress was quite cute. He noticed, but not in a predatory fashion.
‘Where are you guys from?’ Lisa asked. ‘Parlez vous français?’ she continued, trying to place their accents. She spoke French with a provincial Arcadian accent more marked than when she spoke English.
‘No, sorry,’ said Ingrid, shaking her head. ‘Some,’ said Annibale. ‘We’re from Xirnium. There was an international rowing regatta,’ he explained.
‘In Caer Gawen?’ Courtney asked, a little surprised.
‘No, no,’ said Ingrid. ‘Bartlet College,’ she said, referring to the race in Centreville, Anata. Not in Caer Gawen or even Tasat but only a short train ride away. ‘The teams are doing some sightseeing,’ she added, playing with the straw in her glass.
‘Oh? You were actually competing?’ Courtney asked, impressed. ‘Did you win?”
‘Courtney!’ Lise chided her for being so direct, but she nonetheless turned to Ingrid, wondering the same thing.
Ingrid giggled. ‘Uh huh,’ she said, nodding. ‘We finished first in the under 23 women’s eight final and the second heat of the women’s straight four, although we finished second in the straight four final.’
‘The girls did really well,’ said Annibale, and Ingrid beamed.
‘What’s the straight four?’ asked Courtney, who apparently wasn’t embarrassed about her own ignorance of rowing.
‘It’s a coxless shell with four rowers,’ Lise said automatically. ‘It’s what they use for elite competitions which, I guess, is what you’d have at Bartlet.’
‘That’s right,’ said Annibale.
‘It’s the largest rowing boat where everybody rows,’ Ingrid added. ‘At least, I think that’s the case.’
‘I don’t know,’ Lise admitted, a bit embarrassed she’d been so ready with the earlier definition. Rowing wasn’t widely followed in her circles.
Annibale looked quietly amused.
‘Do they have boats where not everybody rows?’ Courtney asked Ingrid.
‘Yeah,’ said Ingrid. ‘Especially in larger boats, there may be someone responsible for steering and turning the rudder.’
‘Congratulations!’ Lise said cheerfully, cutting off Courtney who looked like she was about to say something else. Ingrid found herself starring with her mouth open stupidly, not entirely certain how to to respond to this.
‘And how about you?’ Lise asked Annibale curiously. ‘Did you also compete?’ Her dark eyes seemed to look him over for a moment.
‘Sure,’ Annibale said casually. As a man, he did not notice Lise’s glance, although Ingrid could not have missed it . ‘I was lucky enough to row in the eight,’ he explained.
‘And how did you do?’ Courtney asked.
‘Second in the final,’ said Annibale. ‘The Caldans were just too good and came first; and with a comfortable margin. They were some really strong guys. Although I guess my teammates were pretty strong too, since they had to carry me,’ he added self-deprecatingly.
Lise laughed. ‘Would you like me to introduce you around?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely,’ said Annibale. ‘We’ve already met Courtney, and you’re Lise. Happy to know you.’
‘You too,’ Lise grins. ‘These are Hannah and Skye,’ pointing to each woman in turn. Ingrid waved and Annibale offered each a flashing smile. ‘Do you want to meet Emma?’ She grins and glances in that direction.
‘I thought you and her had beef,’ said Annibale with mock concern.
Ingrid laughed with a touch of hysteria. ‘He’s joking! That’s how he jokes, I think,’ she said.
Annibale winked.
