It was raining across Emberton. 'Continuity' Broome had spent the last year and a half settling into the office building he now occupied as the Bostopian-appointed Governor of Southern Krytenia. Today though, he had spent some of that time settling into his chair to watch drops of rainwater as they slowly raced down the outer pane of double-glazed glass separating him from the inclement forces of nature outside. Each drip speeding down the window distorted the view of the outside world as it did so, misshaping everything from other tall office buildings to shops and parks and even the River Diord itself. It all looked as if rifts in time and space were opening and disappearing across the capital, events taking place unnoticed by everyone, even Preston. Who whilst watching the raindrops, wasn't particularly focused on what was going on within or behind them, instead obsessing with silently willing on the raindrop on the right, though of course keeping a close eye on the left as it gained and lost speed taking in other smaller, less significant raindrops.
'Busy?' Preston span around, the black leather on the chair's left armrest only just managing to clear the inner pane of the double-glazed glass he'd been staring through, turning to face whoever had disturbed his rain-racing session with a smug sounding remark. 'Just pondering, thank you Teddy' he replied, clearing his throat and unlocking his laptop. Teddy walked around to the side of Preston's desk and peered out of the window. 'Not the worst day to get news you're going to Mertagne, I suppose?' he asked, hoping that Bostopian funds earmarked for making sure the drains at the side of the road were being regularly cleared of debris had actually found their way there, rather than lining the pockets of nameless officials. So far, so good though by the state of the road below them. Preston looked up from his keyboard 'it'll probably be raining in Mertagne as well' he replied, looking back down whilst searching for the F key. 'And you know you're coming as well, don't you?' He found the F key and pressed it. 'I'm - what?' 'Coming to Mertagne. On the trip.' 'Me?' Preston looked up from the keyboard again. He wasn't a very quick typer at all and had only managed half a word in that time so was a little miffed at another interruption. 'I don't see anyone else, Teddy... but if you insist on the chat' he continued, whilst shutting the laptop lid 'then let's chat.'
It was, of course, Teddy's turn to now look out of one of the windows in Governor Broome's corner office. Rather than stare out towards the Mertagnian-held Northern Emberton, he instead chose the eastern window, where in the far distance there was a hint of countryside as the Diord continued its winding way throughout the landscape. 'Well?' 'Erm - why are you going?' Teddy asked apprehensively. 'A good question as ever, Teddy', Preston told him, turning his chair to face Teddy, comfortably missing both desk and window by a wide margin. 'The invite had initially landed on a desk in Newfort, but they didn't fancy it - want to be as hands off with Southern Krytenia as they can. I wish I was hands off with Southern Krytenia as well, Teddy, but life doesn't always flow the way you want it to.' 'It doesn't?' 'No, Teddy. I was much happier in Lower Denton, in my little department, making sure it was all being ran as properly as Newfort wanted. I'm an old man, Teddy. I'm counting down the days to retirement then suddenly I find myself plucked from obscurity and flown here - sent to make sure the Mertagnians were running the northern half of Emberton properly.' 'Really?' 'Yes, really. I go into the a lovely little restaurant in central Newfort, overlooking the river, watching people on corporation-owned lilos float by, all while someone from the Newfort lot spits ragu at me saying "Broome! I need you to go to Krytenia and stare at the Mertagnians. You can take your best binoculars!" It sounded like a good deal. Spy on foreigners then retire.' Preston shook his head, his favourite binoculars moving gently against his chest as he did so, thanks to them being hung on a neat strap around his neck.
'So you were sold on that bit, were you? Staring at Mertagnians through binoculars?' 'Well, of course. I enjoyed staring at Upper Denton but the opportunity to check a foreigner's work, in a foreign land, and report back they were doing it wrong? Well, yes, I was "sold", as you put it.' 'So what happened?' 'It starts on the plane there - I get a phone call. "Broome! We can't find anyone to run the place who isn't in military dress. It's not a good look for us, you must have an idea or two" then 'click', phone down. I didn't understand it really, Teddy, I didn't at all. Why did they let so many soldiers takes their ladyfolk with them and why were they all wearing dresses? Did they not take their own clothes? Did the Quartermaster know the soldiers were all letting their wives wear military-issue dresses? Either way, it spurred me on to make sure there would be no corruption here.' 'I suppose the streets don't flood when it rains' Teddy said, looking back out of the window through the grey skies towards the roads he'd observed earlier. 'Precisely, Teddy. Do you know where the streets do flood when it rains?' 'Erm-' Preston cut him off before he could answer. 'Upper Denton. Every single time. Haven't got the brains to hide the corruption by just diverting it into the river at the bottom of the hill.'
Teddy was keen to change the subject to anything. Well, almost anything. Some topics were a no-go and even he had learnt that eventually. 'So after all that, you come in to Krytenia and end up running half the country?' 'Yes. Don't think it's going too badly. It's a simple process - throw money at the Krytenians we can trust to improve things around here, remind Newfort we don't want to get too involved, keep a steady flow of our troops going out of the country, make one or two videos for the domestic audience in Bostopia, rinse, repeat. Just the Mertagnians to deal with as usual, but on their own turf this time.' 'Any idea what'll come of this meeting?' 'Yes, and it's written all over their press. The Mertagnians, while telling the world I'm "consolidating power", will propose that the solution to regional instability is "more Mertagne". Surprisingly, Newfort and I actually agree on something - for a change - on how we think regional instability could be combatted.' 'What's that then?' 'Less Mertagne' he said emphatically, as they shared a laugh. Preston caught his breath and finished off his statement. 'No Mertagne at all would be preferable but we need to be realistic about what we can get out of this particular little chinwag. So I have been. I'll have to tell you about it on the plane' he said, standing up. 'All this talk of water outflows has me needing the bathroom.'
WEDNESDAY 12TH NOVEMBER, 2025
