When Lisa found out that Dean was going to be sent out to Somalia as an ambassador, she'd sought him out to see him off.

"Dean," Lisa smiled, waiting for him on a park bench. He felt a keen sense of deja vu as he once again came face-to-face with COTD's Church. And this was, most certainly, the Church, wearing the Church's perfect face, dressed in the Church's resplendent white robes. 'You wouldn't recognize the real her, Lisa, on the street,' he thought to himself; after all, he'd never seen her original, flawed, human face.

"Lisa," he said back, his voice catching at the end. There was a brief silence, broken by the bench creaking softly as Dean sat next to Lisa. "Nice to see you again."

She chuckled. "Yeah. Us Alensians need to stick together."

"Mmm."

"A little kursi told me you're going to Somalia as an ambassador."

Dean gave her a look. "A kurs--what?"

Lisa cringed. "Sorry. One of the peacekeepers. That's just another name for them."

Dean nodded his understanding. He looked up at her, then sighed. "So anyway: the Dragon's head servant--whatever his name is--called me up to the Spire, then told me I was being sent away to Africa as an ambassador because he thought I could speak African."

Lisa moved a hand to her mouth, eyes alight with mirth. "Oh my god," she snort-laughed. "Seriously?" The irony was clear to her: Whoever exiled Lepochim to Earth, ordering him to act as an ambassador and gain control over the planet's kursi, had a wicked sense of humor. Lepochim was undoubtedly the worst choice for the job.

It then dawned on her: Lepochim was never meant to succeed. 'They truly did send him into exile. What exactly did he do?' The details on Lepochim's current predicament were still fuzzy. Before, she'd assumed that Lepochim had been sent here to take control of Earth with the assurance that, one day, he would be permitted to return to Zder...

"Yeah, seriously," Dean laughed back, interrupting Lisa's train of thought. "Good to know I'm not the only sane one amidst all this madness."

Lisa's expression sobered. "Yeah, good to know. How do you plan on establishing yourself in Africa? Somalia, right?"

Dean lifted his shoulders. "Yep, Somalia, and I have absolutely no idea. This entire plan is crazy: I have no experience whatsoever governing anyone or anything, let alone a theocratic city-state. Besides," he lowered his voice, even though Bath was both visually obscuring and soundproofing the area around them. "I don't believe in the theocratic elements of COTD. No offense."

Lisa shrugged back, smiling softly. "None taken; it'd be disturbing if you believed wholeheartedly in COTD, knowing the truth. About me, at least." She was a fellow first-year student with him at Alens. As far as Dean knew, all her power came from Bath. If he thought that she was a god, well...she'd be the one questioning his sanity.

"What are you guys planning?" Dean suddenly asked. "What is all this...for?"

Lisa rubbed her arm. "It's pretty complicated. The Dragon--Bath--has actually already said."

"What?" Dean motioned incredulously. "Going beyond the stars? Can he go faster than light, now?"

Lisa narrowed her eyes. "Hey, a little respect is in order. He can hear everything you're saying."

Dean shook his head dismissively. "Seriously, why the hell are you guys doing this?" Dean left his real thoughts unspoken: 'Why did you fuck up my life?'

He wasn't even sure he believed that Bath and COTD had ruined his life; perhaps his life's new trajectory would lead him on to bigger and better things than before. That's what he told himself. However, he couldn't help but think that Bath had irrevocably changed him--his body and mind--without his true consent. This, more than anything else, was the source of Dean's near chronic distress.

"Why are we doing this?" Lisa echoed him. "To explore the universe. Trust me, we do have a way off this planet--out of this solar system. Think of it like...a wormhole." Lisa didn't understand how the gates worked on a technical level. This was surprising, considering the vast reservoir of knowledge contained on her chip reader's encyclopedia. She'd expected there to be some basic scientific or physics-oriented explanation somewhere about the mechanics of the gates, yet...nothing.

Dean's eyes grew wide, his pupils contracting. "A wormhole? Where? Can Bath, like...make them?"

Lisa shook her head. "It's complicated. Anyway, that's why it's so important we fully unify Earth before venturing out into the virtual unknown beyond this planet. It's also why we have the strengthen Earth's people to survive in most locales."

Dean sat back, arms crossed over his chest. Lisa noted that his eyes were focused intently on his necklace: a small, silver cross. "So it's expansionism. A new colonialism?"

"Maybe. However, most places we'll be going really will be devoid of sentient life." Unlike hundreds of years ago when colonists designated land under indigenous control "empty."

"I think...I understand. A bit." Dean's voice seemed shaky, uncertain. Lisa supposed it was a lot to take in.

She reached out her arm, as though to touch his shoulder in reassurance, then pulled back at the last moment. "Well..." she cleared her throat. "Let me offer you some advice. For running your own dragonleaf city, that is.

"One: delegate everything. A perfect leader shouldn't be doing any of the grunt-work.

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"Two: keep everything simple. Get people into the city, get people into houses, get people food and water, and then get them sorted and trained. You can rely on your peacekeepers to help with the, erm, revised profession sorting process. Focus your other personnel on getting people situated. You'll also be given, I believe, a sizable contingent of squirrel quasi-sapients to ease everything along.

She beamed at him. "That's it for the beginning! You'll obviously encounter complications after even a few hours, but just keep Basalith in mind as a goal for the city's progression." She paused, as though trying to remember something. Suddenly, she looked up, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Also, make sure you represent Dawn faction well!"

---

A few hours later, Dean looked out over the empty swath of land prepared by the Somalian government for the city-seed. He sighed into his hands, then stood up, pulled the diminutive city-seed from his pocket, and walked over to the "X" marking the city-to-be's center.

'So I just plant it...?' Dean brought five kursi along with him to get things started. They'd told him that the city-seed should grow on its own in a few minutes, so long as he touched the seed first and visualized the Dragon. After the city fully came into being, he was supposed to plant the spineroot seed; this one would grow on its own, no Dragon-visualization required.

Dean hadn't known anybody in Basalith, not well, besides his family. Therefore, he took a random group of people with him to Somalia. 'As usual, I've been thrust into an unfamiliar situation in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.' Just thinking of all the similar situations in store for him left Dean overwhelmed. Based on what Lisa told him, establishing dragonleaf cities on random, alien planets was a likely eventuality.

Dean sighed once more, hoping that the city-seed would grow quickly and that he could retreat into its Grand Temple to have a bit of privacy. So far, several Somalian government officials had come to talk with him about processing citizens, resource distribution, and Somalian current affairs. He'd quickly dismissed all of them, telling them that "all their problems would naturally be solved" by COTD's regional influence.

'Total B.S.,' he thought to himself. 'I have absolutely no idea how to run a city, let alone work on solving a defunct state's problems.' Moreover, he was still digesting the purpose of COTD as a whole.

All the same, Dean knew he at least had to get the city started. He really hoped that Lisa's advice would help out.

---

A few hours later, Dean had to appreciate Bath's handiwork. "This is dope."

He hadn't witnessed the establishment of Basalith, though he'd been told the city grew to full size over the course of a single day. Sure, he'd known intellectually that the city-seed would make a Basalith copy wherever he planted it, but seeing the massive city pop up in such a short period of time, growing rapidly before his eyes, was a mind-blowing experience.

'How does it grow so fast?' Dean wondered to himself. No matter Bath's powers of biological manipulation, he was pretty sure that the city-seed was limited by the laws of physics. How could so much energy be contained within one little seed?

As the city-seed finished growing, Dean snapped out of his awed stupor and got to work delegating tasks between the five kursi and fifteen random Basalith people. He wasted no time in locating the Spire of the Grand Temple, using its inner office as his base of operations. He had requested a large whiteboard from the Somalians and had hung it up on one of the Spire's walls. On it, he wrote down a few basic tasks.

1. 3 peacekeepers in Grand Temple, have them welcome in all local people. Very basic welcome.

2. 5 people as guards, keeping the peace outside. Somalia is dangerous.

3. 2 land-shapers to coordinate squirrels. Give general commands to get people where they need to be.

4. 2 peacekeepers by Grand Marketplace to begin profession sorting (?)

5. 2 people w/ chef profession in kitchen. Get help from jerboas.

6. 5 land-shapers to make furniture and basic goods.

7. 3 educators of any kind to tell new people rules

8. 3 administrators to go inspect current gov. officials. Check for corruption. If corrupt, detain (?)

'That's more than just a few basic tasks...' he grumbled to himself, unsatisfied. However, he couldn't think of a simpler, let alone better, way of doing things. After he made the task list, he went outside to plant the spineroot seed. Then, while he waited for that to grow, he popped back into the Spire.

Dena gathered all his underlings into his new office to present the whiteboard. As Dean explained everything, he was increasingly grateful for his artist and director professions. As he explained, he began to draw images on the board for each role, helping explain the true essence of what everyone was supposed to accomplish. Welcoming people in? Giving them the ground rules? Aside from words, his images conveyed something more meaty, substantive, something easier to remember. In addition, Dean found that his vocalization director boon made it far easier to quickly and concisely word everything that needed to be said.

"This is all great," one of his peacekeepers said. "However, you're missing something. It's pretty important."

Dean paled. He was missing something?

The peacekeeper cracked a grin. "A name."

"What?"

Everyone present gave one another a knowing glance. "You need to name the city."

Dean waved his hand. He didn't want to be an ambassador, didn't want to responsibility of a city-state resting over his head. "I don't care. Name it anything."

Amalo, present as the representative of the jerboas, twitched his tail, an opportunistic glint in his eyes. "How about Jerboaland?"

Everyone else in the room, aside from Dean, narrowed their eyes in incredulity.

"Jerboaland?" someone repeated out loud, as though jerboa were a made-up word. In fact, most people still hadn't heard of the jerboa quasi-sapients; in this room, most people assumed that Amalo was some previously-unveiled mouse-rabbit quasi-sapient.

Dean closed his eyes and exhaled. 'Amalo did bring 80% of the jerboa quasi-sapients along...and Virigard will be happy.' Besides, the jerboas seemed a powerful ally amidst the rapidly-evolving politics of COTD.

Dean looked around the room, then raised an eyebrow as he met Amalo's gaze. "Fine. Jerboaland." As everyone aside from Amalo stared at him with shocked expressions, Dean snapped his fingers. As he did so, a whip-like crack sounded out.

He steeled himself, then used his director's volume-control boon to increase his voice's resonance. "Don't keep the people outside waiting. I'll be watching from here."

Having been dismissed, a somewhat confused, though well-delegated force of COTD personnel exited the Spire. Dean sighed in relief, then nearly fell over in shock as a white form appeared at the edge of his vision.

"Jerboaland!" Virigard squealed, rocketing up from under the floor.

'Did she...was she...eavesdropping the whole time?'

Dean watched helplessly as a veritable horde of jerboas leapt one after the other through the newly-formed hole in his dragonleaf floor. Soon, around twenty were in his office.

"Um..."

"We're here to help!" Virigard announced.

Dean looked around. "With what?"

"Leading people safely here," Virigard said smugly.

"Well, I already have five humans--"

Virigard held out a paw, the rest of the jerboas replicating the gesture after a half-second delay. "Amalo told us that Somalia is really dangerous. We like danger. We're going to dig tunnels leading out, as far we can tunnel--"

"How far is that?" one of the jerboas interrupted. 

Virigard looked his way, her glance clearly enough to draw silence. "As I was saying, we can tunnel."

 Dean nodded his head slowly. "So you're going to make and police a network of tunnels leading back to Jerboaland."

Virigard cocked her head, ears twitching. "Uh...sure."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Wait, what were you going to say?"

"Nothing."

Then, without so much as a goodbye, the jerboas darted out through the hole in the floor and left.