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Arc 4: America

"This is ridiculous!" A loud voice said over a dozen other voices, punctuating its statement with a waving of hands over the long rectangular table in front of it. "The Anis are not trying to make a move on us, nor could they be starting up the old species wars once again! So why would they make these accusations and keep all Sanguine, including her husband, from seeing the body?"

The voices rose up again, louder than before. Each of the two dozen men and women were trying to be heard above the others, and the silver haired man at the end of the table was making no moves to control the burgeoning chaos. His eyes were closed, his head reclining back against the plush vinyl headrest on his chair.

They would argue for a while more, if that's what it could be called. Most of them had never had a real argument, living in heavily populated areas as they did. The happiness and elation that was a result of the chemical reactions between the living and the Ones That Moved On would not allow any of them to ever feel real anger or sadness. But they could raise their voices and get excitable, and sometimes things sounded like arguing and not just a spirited discussion.

In his 200 years, the speaker had been to areas of the world not so populated, and some that few souls had ever lived in. He knew the emotions that would spur an argument, even though he did not feel them at that moment. Eventually, he would speak up and make them all listen to his words, and the arguments would be over. It was how it always went when the American Sanguine Congress met. Let them all yell until they were ready to listen. When the World Congress met the following week, they would all feel confident that their voices had been heard and they would fall in line behind the speaker with no dissent. It was best that they get all their words out now, so they maintained a unified front in the future.

Eyes the color of a blizzard opened, focusing on a point at the opposite end of the table where a seat sat empty. The voices immediately quieted. Bodies settled back into chairs, which were quickly adjusted forward to line up in an orderly fashion around the polished glass surface in front of them.

"It has been a long day." The speaker did not need to raise his voice in the quiet of the room. "We are all tired and need to eat."

More than one set of eyes were as white as his own, a clear sign that their bodies were beginning to get low on energy. When the body no longer had the energy to power the specialized melanin in their bodies, the first sign was always the irises losing their color. If he did not find a stopping point for the meeting then skin would begin to fade in color as well, and then they would all be in danger from the bright sun that shone outside the wall of windows on the side of the conference room.

"The Anis have no way to enforce their demands at the present. They, in fact, are in the wrong, and we can provide whatever proof is needed to the world court. There will be no backlash against the Sanguine. It is clear that she was taken from her husband and away from the carefully controlled environment that was keeping her safe from the fetus inside of her. That is the fault of her birth family and nobody else."

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"But, Speaker," a small voice of the West Coast representative spoke from halfway down the table. "The problem is that they are pushing that nonsense about our kind having special mind control abilities again. Even the Anis who aren't in that militant sect are beginning to wonder if we are hiding important things about ourselves."

The speaker looked at her carefully. The woman was much younger than anyone else at the table, a speaker for the younger and often forgotten of their people. It would still be several decades before her body kicked into athanatos and stopped her aging. Despite her lack of years, she was far more cautious than many others in the group, immediately pointing out the real problem behind the anti-Sanguine cries across the media.

"That is true, thank you, Celeste. There have been many stories seeping through the cracks of the universe that are working against us. Even those who understand the stories are just the work of the mousas are beginning to wonder. And that is the part we must focus on. We show our grief for the loss of life committed by a hate group, and we focus our statements on that. I know that you can't show your sadness and your anger that someone could be taken from us because of the prejudice of one small group. It is out of your power. But you can aim for solemnity. When talking of the rumors about powers, do not refer to the Anis as stupid," his blank eyes somehow managed to stare directly through an older man with flaming red hair, who immediately shifted guiltily in his chair.

He continued, "They are ignorant. Remember to follow that up with ignorance being a lack of understanding, not a lack of intelligence. They are all just tales from imagination. Do not let yourselves be caught up in insults or petty exchanges with the media."

The group slowly dispersed, and the speaker waited until all the representatives were gone before sighing and leaving the room. His assistant handed him a cool glass of deep red liquid, waiting until the speaker drank it all before taking the glass back. They walked down toward the closed doors of an office at the end of the hall, the assistant relaying messages while trying not to stare at the red irises slowly forming in the speaker's eyes.

"Speaker Vlachos, the speaker for the Lykos, has called three times in the last hour. He insists that he must speak to you about a matter connected to the death in the news."

They pushed through the double doors and into a tidy office filled with warm toned upholstery and dark woods with rich patinas. As the assistant closed the doors behind them, a flash of light like a miniature sun lit up the room. He dove across the room to put himself between his boss and whatever danger may have been coming, but he was knocked to the floor when he ran directly into something that was not there before. The light faded, and his eyes quickly adjusted as he hurried back to his feet. Not a meter away sat a boy not much younger than himself, pushing his spiky hair off of a rapidly reddening spot on his forehead. He moaned something in another language as two other new people helped him to his feet.

Both he and the speaker stared at the new arrivals with wide eyes, unsure how to react. Their eyes were immediately drawn to a small woman with curly hair as she stretched her arms high over her head.

"Well," she said in a calm voice. "At least I didn't fall this time."