If there is any interference by our forces with Tayloristan trade, which there will not be if Yellow China backs down, the Crimson Empire will reimburse your country in reparations as well as a 20% gift to show how sorry we are.
30%.
#10-------------
Domestic Minister Doumont shuffled cards at the conference table. "Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti" he whispered solemnly and flipped over the top card. "Joker."
Doumont re-shuffled the cards. "Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti" he whispered again as he flipped over the top card. "Queen of Diamonds."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. Queen of Hearts."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. Ten of Spades."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. King of Diamonds."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. Two of Clubs."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. Four of Clubs."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti. Jack of Hearts."
"Es Retayi Monstergrad Ti." This time, as Doumont flipped the top card, his hand slipped and the stack of cards collapsed. Three cards landed face up. "Ace of Clubs. Joker. King of Spades. Not possible. Can't be right." Doumont muttered worriedly.
"I didn't know you put such stock in mysticism, Doumont." Shrev called out as he entered the conference room, map of the world in hand.
"It's not mysticism. It's Ama-Ki, the art of reading the world-" Doumont began.
"-around you with clarity through cards." The Dictator finished. "Performed with the traditional Monsterguard rituals, doubtless a relic of your birthplace."
Doumont glared silently.
"Regardless, you called a meeting for a reason." Shrev continued. "The only question is whether we should wait for Raekhimnijong."
"We shouldn't." Doumont answered. "He has tragically been given directions to the Ballroom instead of the Conference Room, so he, Miss Lee, and Captain Krystolis will not be joining us."
The Dictator shrugged. "Were you anyone else, or Miss Lee any less competent, I'd express concern about you willfully misleading my bodyguard."
"What do Miss Lee's skills have to do with this?" Doumont replied quizzically.
"Quite a lot, Domestic Minister." A female voice echoed from the door as Annabelle Lee entered.
"How...what...just how?" Doumont sputtered.
"Trade secret. Discuss your business." Annabelle seized Doumont by the collar. "And never try to do that again." She hissed. Annabelle then sauntered over by the door.
"What is there to discuss, Doumont?" The Dictator asked cheerfully.
"Two issues. First, a Crimson Court slave trader entered our borders with slaves and attempted to sell them, so we arrested him as a terrorist. Secondly, the unification ceremony is in four days and you need to be there." Doumont answered calmly.
"Why did this entail misleading my entourage?" Shrev questioned intently.
"Because of standing orders regarding terrorists. Specifically, your orders that you'll deal with them personally and information on them is strictly need to know." Doumont explained.
"And if you have to ask, you don't need to know." The Dictator finished. "All right. Leave the terrorist in jail. I can deal with him after the unification ceremony. Four days is almost too little time to make it to Aven-G."
"If you count the day of prepwork, yes. And that journey entails crossing the Sea of Madagascar, which is not something to be done lightly." Doumont fretted.
"I have full faith in Captain Krystolis. Now let's get going." Shrev reassured. "I need to be there - it was during the unification ceremony that I got my authority, and every year the cities give me that authority again."
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Zoe pulled herself on to the branch, gripping it tightly with her knees. Her breath felt heavy and tears rolled freely down her cheeks as she surveyed her left hand, covered in open and half-healed scars, smoke still rising from the innumerable burns. She didn't know how long she lay there, gripping the tree.
Past midday, the sound of engines filled the horizon and Zoe finally stirred to see four airships, one massive and three smaller, sailing west. Zoe nodded, then half-climbed half-fell down the tree and began to limp after the silver beasts.
-----------
Izzil surveyed the steel room he had been bodily thrown into. There was no bed, nor toilet. The door's hinges were on the outside, and so were its locks. Everything on his person had been taken, and he'd been given a brown sheet and a belt with which to cover himself.
Wait until the Crimson Court hears about this. he seethed.
When I get my diplomat, there will be hell to pay, Tayloristan!
Minutes turned into hours. Izzil took to beating on the door with his fists and yelling, but if there was anyone outside, they didn't answer.
Hours turned into days. Still no one entered.
----------
A change in the pitch of the engines caused Zoe to look up.
Oh no. The airship above her began to make a ponderous turn in a direction Zoe couldn't even guess, its escorts matching every motion. "No." She whispered. "No!" she screamed. "No no no." She sobbed as her guiding stars left her.
Dejected, Zoe stumbled on through the jungle.
This is great. I'm naked. I'm unarmed. I'm injured. I haven't eaten in ten days. I don't know where I'm going, and I'm stuck in the pit God abandoned on earth!
But she kept walking. Countless times she tripped on roots, on ground seemingly defying the laws of physics, but she got back up. Innumerable times, she detoured around a growth of dangerous flora, often losing her direction again.
Once, she saw a spider which must have weighed 250 kg throwing a huge, netlike web into the air and linking it to several trees just within the upper reaches of the obscuring green mist.
Low enough not to be seen, high enough to...trap helicopters? What else flies at that level?
Zoe kept moving, but the spider suddenly appeared in front of her. She screamed and frantically retreated, but the insect was too quick! It seized her with one of its forward legs, then just as quickly let her go as the sticky sap from yesterday's Pitcher Tree incident rubbed on it. The spider retreated as suddenly as it had arrived.
So nothing in the jungle wants to eat me as long as I'm sticky? Great, I get to starve instead. She thought darkly.
An indeterminable amount of time later, Zoe tripped on an object in the ground and landed heavily on her left knee. She heard rather than felt something inside it move in a way it wasn't supposed to. Zoe screamed in pain, then bit her lip and attempted to drag herself forward, but her vision blurred and she collapsed.
From behind her came an ominous clacking sound. Zoe managed to rotate her head enough to see the scorpion arriving behind her. "Fine. Finish it." She heard herself whispering, tears once again rolling down her cheeks.
The bark-colored insect skittered up the stick she had tripped over, then stung the stick, sending it into the air. The straight brown stick, sunlight reflecting off one end of it, flew past Zoe's head and hit something else with a thwacking sound. The scorpion wandered back into the jungle.
Zoe lay on the ground, bleeding from several dozen wounds, burns all over her left hand, with one arm in a cast and one knee out of commission. Her vision blurred, and then blackness seeped into her sight.
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