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Diplomatic Effects / Ch. 4: Meeting point

DIPLOMATIC EFFECTS / CH. 4:MEETING POINT

ATLANTIS TWO, INVITEES-ONLY ZONE, 10PM, 31ST DECEMBER 2277

“Hi, Catherine, Dan,” princess Eliza said, “Glad you could make it.”

“Nice to see you, your highness, did you have anything to do with our invitation?” Catherine asked.

“Not me, Albert just read you were coming. Maybe Deborah wants to talk constitutions some more.” She crouched down and greeted their three year old, “And you're called Caroline, is that right? I'm called Eliza.”

Caroline nodded, and hid in her mother's skirts.

“Did you know, I've got a little boy who's called Matthew and who's a tiny bit bigger than you are? He's asleep at the moment, but maybe tomorrow you could play with him. Would you like that?”

Caroline nodded.

Eliza stood up and said to Catherine, “If we're going to arrange their marriage we might as well introduce them early, don't you think?”

“I wasn't actually aware we were going to,” Catherine said, “and I'm not sure how it'll sit with our readership.”

“Don't worry,” Eliza said, “there's plenty of time.”

“The problem when some people make jokes,” Dan said smiling, “is you don't always know when they're serious.”

“I'm very serious about them playing together. I'm also serious about suggesting you talk to the C.A.T. They're working on an advice pack for parents in your situation.”

“We'd suspected,” Catherine said, looking down at her thought-hearing daughter, “but we didn't think it was possible.”

“It's never too early to educate yourselves, and the C.A.T. is there to help. Please tell them an unlisted member sent you if they ask how you heard about the pack. That ought to make sure they don't ask more questions.”

“An unlisted member?” Dan asked.

“Surprise surprise, a percentage of the members don't appear on the membership roster, or turn up to annual general meetings. Sarah! Lovely to see you made it!”

“You're looking well, Eliza. It's nice to be here, except I'm starting to get a headache.” Sarah replied “Can I give you sleepy-head here? I think John could use some help with the bags.”

“Of course! You've been doing some growing, haven't you, Maggie?”

[{Recognition. Happyness}] Eliza heard from the baby, as she kissed her.

[{care, happiness}] Eliza sent back.

“Have you met Dan and Catherine? They're officially reporters but they do a side-line in constitutional advice.”

“Oh? If I'd known you had some independent constitutional experts around, I might have forgiven them their profession and been slightly tempted to ask Karella to bring them along last time I was here. But never mind. It seems to be working out OK, doesn't it?”

“I think so. Number of domes cracked so far is zero.”

“And long may it remain so. Anyway, I'll go help John.”

Seeing Sarah vanish back the way she'd come, Catherine asked, “Do we presume that was your cousin Sarah?”

“It was, yes.”

“As in Gemsmith and setting up the C.A.T?” Dan asked, suddenly realising why Sarah had looked familiar.

“Exactly.”

“I see an interview opportunity,” Dan said. “Maggie Williams, as heir of the Gemsmith fortune, what do you think of the principles behind a servant monarchy?”

Maggie Williams, aged about 3 months looked at the man who was trying to be funny, and tried to grab his nose. Not having much hand-eye coordination yet, she missed, and resorted to smiling.

“Well, there you have it, Dan.” Catherine said, “She either thinks they're good, or you're funny.”

“I think a better person for your question might be her Imperial Highness.” Eliza said, spotting Svetlana walking past. “Tsarevna, allow me to introduce a brother and sister in Christ. Dan and Catherine are reporters at a little newspaper called the 'New Republican Post'.”

Svetlana looked at them curiously, “Republicans? My father would probably label you as trouble-makers. I assume you have a more tolerant attitude, Highness?”

“Yes, Although I think if you push them you'll find they are not Republican in the strictest sense of the word, any more than we are a monarchy in the Russian sense, either. Albert has been reading their paper since before I met him. They are honest people, and humorously disrespectful when they see things going wrong.”

“Ah, now things going wrong is what brings me wandering around unaccompanied. I don't suppose you have seen Olga, have you?”

“Your lady-in-waiting? No.”

“Or my father's ambassador?”

“Sorry.”

“My imperial father would not be impressed. Olga went for a walk with the ambassador's fiancée and has not returned, I am not supposed to walk about without her, such a thing not being seemly, but I was supposed to meet his excellency for a discussion half an hour ago.”

“Well, for sake of avoiding unseemly behaviour you are welcome to wait with me. I expect it has become a case of everyone looking for everyone else. You have no wrist unit?”

“Father will not allow it. He says they are too easily infiltrated.”

Eliza nodded, “I know the problem. Does Olga?”

“Yes. Unfortunately I have never needed to know her number. You have a baby as well as your son?”

“No, I'm just holding her for my third cousin. She and her husband have just arrived.”

“Oh, and they are finding their accommodation?”

“I presume so, And their luggage.”

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LUGGAGE COLLECTION AREA, ATLANTIS TWO.

“John, I've left Maggie with Eliza,” Sarah said, “But it's too crowded out there for me not to be hiding my thoughts.”

“Which Maggie doesn't think much of,” John added.

“Exactly.”

“You're not stuck?”

“No, just to you.”

“Well I won't object to help with the bags,” John said.

“I didn't think you would,” she smiled. “Oh, Eliza is looking very well.”

“As in, you're making guesses that she's expecting?”

“Yes.”

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ATLANTIS TWO INVITEES-ONLY ZONE, 10.20PM, 31ST DECEMBER 2277

“Sorry that took so long, Eliza.” Sarah said. “Someone's body-guard had brought a gun, which held up everything.”

“No guns on Atlantis,” Eliza said, “didn't they read the invitation?”

“Apparently not,” John said.

“Anyway, Sarah and John Williams, let me introduce Her Imperial Highness, the Tsarevna of Russia. Tsarevna, Sarah is my third cousin and the woman we can thank for setting up the Association of Truthsayers.”

“Ah, you are heiress who values truth over corrupt power? I am pleased to meet you. Sadly we have not many truthsayers in Russia.”

“I must say that is something that has surprised me,” Sarah said.

“You are strict against all forms of corruption. In Russia, if we arrested all the judges who have accepted a bribe, there would be very few judges left to try the cases.”

“And if you issued an amnesty but said no more?” Catherine asked.

“The corrupt judges would bribe the corrupt police not to arrest them.”

“And the honest policemen?” Catherine asked.

“Are hard to find, as well.”

“Your father has a problem,” Sarah summarised.

“My grandfather made a start;” the Tsarevna said, stretching her English, “they who had a direct connection to him and were found to be be corrupt, to be making use of their connection for personal gain, they died. My imperial father has widened the edict: now, those who try to make use of a connection to someone with a direct connection to my imperial father also die. If it were possible to stop people using connections... Perhaps Russia would fall apart, I don't know.”

“When you say using their connections,” Sarah asked, “Do you just mean in terms of money, or other forms of gain? I think I gain from my connection to my cousin, in that my ideas are heard. But I try not to be selfish in this.”

“I think I want my connections to help me find a translator. For example Olga, my lady-in-waiting, who I did not wait for, or my father's ambassador.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Sarah smiled, “I will use my connections to help you, your Highness. I think this is not corruption.” She'd spotted a familiar face in the crowd, and waved [Rhianna, can I borrow you?] she called mentally.

[Hi, Sarah!] Rhianna waved back, [want me to come over?]

[Please.]

“Your Imperial Highness, let me introduce to you Rhianna Quy, who hopefully knows lots and lots of people here in Atlantis, having been here most of the summer. Rhi, the Tsarevna has lost her lady-in-waiting and the ambassador of Russia, and would like to have a translator. By any chance do you know any Russian-speakers, or where the Russian ambassador might be, or similar solutions?”

“Your highness,” Rhianna curtseyed, “do you know which way your lady-in-waiting went?”

“She went for a walk with the ambassador's fiancée. Does 'Turnbull ring' mean anything to you?”

“Certainly, it's a huge structure, part of Atlantis' engines. Unfortunately it doesn't help me find her very quickly. It's at least a kilometer into Atlantis.”

“And Olga's probably not there, anyway.” Sarah said, “I expect she is now wandering around looking for you, Tsarevna.”

“Probably,” Svetlana agreed.

“So, we're back looking for a Russian speaker,” Rhi said, “or someone who knows the Russian ambassador's wrist unit number.”

Svetlana blushed, and fished a piece of paper out of her pocket “I do not know Olga's wrist unit number, but I have the ambassador's.”

[Sarah,] John thought. [Olga has got herself lost, and is trying not to look it because she thinks this is a normal city where lost people are prey.]

[How crowded is it where she is? Oh, you won't have seen, will you?]

[No.]

Sarah looked while Svetlana borrowed Rhi's wrist unit. Olga was really lost, in an almost-deserted part of the city's old quarter. Sarah looked for the next English-speaking Christian thought-hearer Olga would pass, and found his name — Xavier.

[Xavier, sorry for scaring you. I have the gift, and there is a young woman, Olga, about to pass you. Please help her find Atlantis-two, she has got totally lost. Tell her the Tsarevna is in the invitees-only zone.]

[What's a Tsarevna?]

[You can ask Olga that, here she is.]

“Are you Olga?” Xavier asked, “Someone with the gift just scared me out of my mind to tell you the Tsarevna, whatever that is, is in the invitees-only zone, and asked me to help you get to Atlantis two.”

“Why should I trust you?” Olga asked, suspiciously.

“Gifted lady? Why should she trust me?” Xavier asked aloud.

[Suspicious isn't she? Tell her you're a Christian, she's a Christian, and that the problem with demonstrating my gift is it depends on her knowing you can't listen to her thoughts without touching. Oh, and she went for a walk with the ambassador's fiancée.]

Xavier repeated that.

“Can the lady see the Tsarevna's jewelery?” Olga asked.

“The Tsarevna's a woman?” Xavier asked.

[Yes. Real ruby ring, real diamonds in her ear-rings, and a big fake diamond round her neck. Doesn't she think anyone will notice? Why mix real and fake?]

[You want me to insult her friend?] Xavier asked.

[Just repeat it,] Sarah said. He did, adding that he was just repeating verbatim.

“The original is safe at home,” Olga replied, smiling. “OK, I trust you.”

“Why?” Xavier asked.

“Someone who does not want to be held responsible for a message he thinks might offend probably is not making things up.”

“You must live somewhere scary,” Xavier said. “Here, we try to keep the dangerous sharks outside.”

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ATLANTIS, 11.45PM, DEC 31ST

“Before we begin this celebration to thank God for another year of survival,” Karella said (in Mer, with Jake interpreting to English and other interpreters working hard to address their small crowds) “I want to thank everyone who's willingly turned their lives upside down to help us make it this far through this time of great change. I want to thank the ambassadors who have gone out from us and the ambassadors who've come to us, and the unofficial ambassadors who have pleaded our case before kings, governments, newspapers and the general public. I want to thank those who risked their lives helping remind the world we keep our promises, over in the Beautiful Peninsula, and those who daily risk their lives making safe the bombs our ancestors left for the day we were discovered. We don't know if those bombs have helped us, we probably never will, but they have surely given us something that keeps governments talking to us. I also want to thank my little brother for his work on the flying fish adaptation that has been so useful in bring our guests here, and Boris Gravitymaster for giving us access to space on our terms, not to mention cheaper submarines. I thank everyone involved in building Atlantis-2 and Atlantis-H. And of course, I really want to thank our marvelous artificers who actually create this technology for us.

“Recently, we found that a peace-knife still exists in the hands of a land-woman. At its time, the peace knife was the highest of technologies — a knife as strong as steel that held its edge and would not rust or break. We gave them to the heirs of friendly nations, to people who had sworn an oath of friendship towards our people, that they would work for peace throughout their lives, because even back then, we loved playing in the waves more than going to war.” A ripple of laughter greeted this, which made it harder for the interpreters.

“What we forgot to get them to swear was that they'd only pass it on to someone else who swore a similar oath, or that it would come back to us after their death. Some of our peace knives caused great deal of trouble in their time. We won't make that mistake again. And, of course, the time for peace knives is over. However, we do have a technology far ahead of the landfolk, which we believe they would prize. We have the fastest submarines on the planet, but really, unless you're trying to stay hidden, or visit the wonders of the ocean deep that only a few land-folk have seen with their own eyes, you don't need a submarine. In terms of transport the peace-loving heir to a throne might want something where they can go faster than sound, much faster if they can, in order to spread the message of peace and still be back home for their civic duties. Perhaps even something that can take a trip to Mars or the outer solar system. Something, in fact, like a fusion powered anti-gravity drive. Of course, lending that technology to people brings risks. Risks of investigation, reverse engineering and abuse. So, when we give such submarines on a life-long lease, we do so with the proviso that we will retain the ability to order the submarine home to Atlantis or if we feel that is too slow or the secrets the submarine represents are about to fall into the hands of others, to trigger the self destruct. So, just as we will have to trust the people we give these submarines to with secrets that could play a terrible part in the most devastating war of history, they will have to trust us. The Council will, of course, take a great oath never to trigger the self destruct for any other reason than to those I have given, nor to order a submarine back here when it is being used for peaceful purposes. I anticipate this will be irrelevant for those who will never trust us, but nevertheless it shall be sworn, perhaps it will reassure the parents of those who receive a submarine. The age of peace-knives has passed, in the coming year we will enter the age of peace-submarines. Use them for peace and as a reward for choosing peace, sons and daughters of kings and queens who will inherit their thrones. Use them to travel, to improve existing friendships, to make new ones, and to expand your horizons. This universe that God has made is beautiful, learn to appreciate it, and even more, I urge you to learn to love the creator and not just his creation.

“Some of our royal guests are probably wondering if you will be eligible for a peace submarine. The criteria might change but at the moment they are as follows: you must be the undisputed heir to the throne; you must be free from the stigma of oath-breaking; you must be free to swear the oath we will require of you; you must be supported by your ruling relative's oath that no attempt will be made to investigate the submarine or use it for any military purpose including reconnaissance; you must have witnesses that you have been advocating for peace for the previous five years; you must have witnesses that you play an active involvement in the affairs of your country — throwing parties does not count; there must be friendly diplomatic relations between your country and Atlantis; your country must be either a member of the security council of the United Nations, or have been a member during the past five years and demonstrated restraint and consideration of the sovereignty of other nations; alternatively you my qualify if your country is in a troubled part of the world and has been a regional example of peace and stability for the past fifteen years; basic civil rights in your country must be respected, irrespective of contacts or wealth; and finally, efforts to reduce corruption must be in place and taking effect or already effective and regularly reviewed. I acknowledge that some of these are a little imprecise; In all cases, the High Council of Atlantis will have the final say.”

[Well, Deborah,] Eliza thought, [I guess you've just qualified for a submarine-spaceship.]

[Nothing was said about curious husbands, I notice.]

[Most heirs to the throne do not have a husband who's a forcefield designer, my friend. Has Karella spoken to you, or was this a surprise?]

[Not a great surprise. I had wondered how a submarine would be useful from my land-locked home. I wonder how long their list is.]

[Actually not very. You know who's going to be really upset, don't you?]

[Israel?]

[I hadn't thought of them. Not being a monarchy does rather exclude them. No, I was thinking of the permanent member of the security council who've just had another report saying corruption is on the rise.]

[Oh, yes! Do you think the Federal Kingdom will squeal?]

[Probably not. They miss out on several counts, actually — technically since their king hasn't decided which of his sons will inherit they don't have an undisputed heir, and there's support to get his daughter re-instated, too. She won't get one since she's publicly saying she'll soon be divorcing her second husband.]

[Sad.]

[Very.]

[Any difference between the two sons?] Deborah asked.

[Yes. The eldest is a womanizer with a long string of illegitimate children, and a doctorate in international relations, and the youngest is extremely conservative, in the sense of there's a whole long list of things he doesn't approve of and thinks that makes him a Christian. He blames going to university for his brother's behaviour and so resolutely hasn't gone. He's so naïve I can really imagine him with a grand-vizier type person manipulating him behind the scenes. That's why there's the 'reinstate the princess' movement. Eldest son got the brains, youngest son got morals, and the daughter got a bit of both, and a whole heap of arrogance which is why she married the first guy against everyone's advice.]

[This doesn't count as gossip, does it?] Deborah asked.

[I hope it counts as educating a friend about the political landscape her forthcoming visit is going to land her in.]

[I could always cancel it.]

[No, don't. They're an important nation. And the king is a good man. Just...]

[Shame about his kids?]

[Well, yes. I assume you're going to meet the daughter. If you get a moment with her alone, tell her she's making a big mistake.]

[About the divorce?]

[Yes. You may tell her someone with the gift told you. The assumption she has made is incorrect. She probably won't listen, but it's worth a try.]

[And you're not going to tell me more?]

[That would be gossip.]

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ATLANTIS, 1AM, 1ST JAN 2278

It hadn't been the sort of party that Olga would have expected. She felt it was distinctly odd, in fact. The programme had started with the singing of an ancient hymn, followed by a prayer and a modern chorus, then a group dance, another hymn, then a pairs dance, and so on. But it had been good, very good. Xavier had been a good dancer, and had a good singing voice, too.

“So, you have an admirer?” the Tsarevna asked.

“He was just being sociable,” Olga said, dismissively.

“You think he has no friends or family he'd have been with otherwise?”

“He comes from a big family,” Olga said.

“And I presume you've got his address?”

Olga blushed, “yes.”

“Good,” Svetlana said.

“Did I notice you dancing with someone I don't recognise?”

“Probably,” Svetlana said. “Unless you recognise the youngest prince of the Helvetic Confederation.”

“Really?”

“He was here playing tourist with some other students from his university Christian union. He's studying Russian.”

“Oh is he? And he's a Christian?”

“Yes. Mikhail's fiancée introduced me to him, and told me who he was.”

“And you've got his contact details?” Olga asked.

“Not yet. But it just so happens that Prince Rudolph of Switzerland will be a taking part in an exchange programme at the Imperial University in September, taking beginner-level classes in economics.”

“Isn't that what you are planning to study?”

“It is, yes.”

“Why is he taking beginner-level?”

“Language skills and different topics covered in different years. That's one of the reasons the exchange programme actually works. Second year students get to hear stuff they've already covered to help get their ears in tune, and then get taught about stuff their colleagues will be learning at home, and vice-versa. There's a bit of catch-up to do when they get home, but not much.”

“Sounds like you had a good discussion about that.”

“Mostly he talked, I listened.”

“Does he know he's going to be sitting next to you in class, metaphorically speaking?”

“No. He doesn't even know I'm going to be at the university. I plan to drop that little surprise on him once I get the confirmation. But he did ask if it might be possible to meet when he's in St Petersburg.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that I expected my Imperial Father might start jumping to conclusions if he visited the palace too often, but it would be very odd if he didn't formally pay his respects soon after arriving, as visiting royalty should.”

“How did he reply to that?”

“He said he'd forgotten that bit of protocol, but he'd been more thinking of less formal settings. I didn't comment on that either.”