There are many different ways of looking at the universe... approximately one per person able to conceive of the concept at all. But every being should focus on what is rather than what seems to be. Of those people who can see what is, once other matters have been set aside, they see the balance.
That is where science and the mystics both agree on the most basic of levels. The 'equal' sign has as much power to a scientist as the most holy of mysteries.
And now, that all-important equation was decidedly OUT of alignment.
Action leads to reaction.
Fate leads to destiny.
Imbalance leads to balance... ALWAYS.
* * *
Tanya flipped through several dozen reports, mostly skimming as most of the plans had long been set. She tapped the papers into a neat stack again. "Good work, everyone! Frankly, I'm surprised you've achieved so much in the time you had available."
Oskar shook his head. "Your employees never stop working, it seems." Including innocent bystanders!
Those crazy workaholics! "That may be, but the essentials have all been established so I want everyone to take some time off as we finish the last areas." She put a finger on the checklist and ran down the list. "Housing, industry, entertainment, services, infrastructure... all are in a fine state. We'll be open for business – that is, diplomacy – ahead of schedule. Other than essential services, give everyone the weekend off and we'll move up when the public can enter by a week."
"Why escalate so quickly? There are still plenty of things left unfinished despite the progress."
"Money," she said bluntly.
"I hadn't considered that." He had been focused on the construction and diplomatic goals and hadn't concerned himself with funding.
"Our coffers are flush, for now, but hardly infinite. Despite every cost-saving measure and using our own construction corps, it costs an incredible amount to support what amounts to a largish town. But, if we even get 60% of the business I expect, we'll break even easily."
"I was wondering how much money you truly expect to earn here."
"Roughly?" She did some calculations in her head given the new information. "As much as the rest of Chicago within a few years."
"Ambassador! Surely you jest. Chicago is hardly a small city. Being able to match even a tenth its income would be nearly impossible."
She grinned. "That's only the start. By functioning inside of the consulate, we are in the perfect position to operate a business with no annoying oversight. The truest laissez-faire situation that the world has ever seen. The Unified States can't interfere and Germania won't interfere as long as we send back gold."
"You say the Unified States can't interfere, but they ARE the host country. Couldn't they just make it illegal to come here?"
"The legality of blocking access to a consulate aside, by the time someone thinks to do that, they won't dare. We'll be too big and be far too influential."
He smiled wryly. "We are every nation's favorite monster... the cause of all their ills. Germania is hardly popular!"
She put her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers in front of her face. "We will be... we will be."
* * *
The TvD Talent Discovery Team had a rather nebulous mandate: find novel things people can do with magic. It didn't have to be useful, powerful, needful or even sensible... as long as it was different and interesting!
Clerks compiled the results and put them in a well-organized series of files that other members of TvD could access when they needed something unusual or were just brainstorming problems that might be amenable to some tricky magic.
Serebryakov liked keeping that department close to her office. She found it comforting to read about all the things people could do that had been judged as 'useless' in the past. Today, she was escorting General Rerugen there and was bragging about their work (politely, of course!)
The symbol of the the team was a square surrounded by stylized stars. The general glanced at it and Visha responded to the unspoken question, "It's the President's idea. The square represents the box in which most people trap their thoughts. The stars are where we should be thinking."
"That's very like her," he responded dryly. "Thinking like everyone else is hardly one of her strengths." It was perhaps comforting for him as well, as often as he visited. The rest of the country was almost unrelievedly awash in bad news and, as nervous as he was about Tanya's plans, people were always busy and smiling in her offices.
"Exactly. Our records help when we have a specific need as well. This is where we found all the mages that could move metal efficiently for our rail project. From those workers, if they had more specific skills, became Stahl operators."
They aren't even bothering to hide it from me. I guess they consider me an insider... even a supporter. Perhaps they are not wrong about that, God help me. "Anything else interesting coming up?"
"Well... I can't say too much but that's mostly because there aren't any real results yet. The SubMariner initiative is just in its initial stages. We have recruited mages that are good with water spells. A lot of these spells are ones that aerial mages use but some people are just better with water. I've seen one girl able to accelerate water to nearly the speed of sound... remarkable!" She looked appropriately impressed.
"So spells to pull oxygen from water, protection from pressure and so on?"
"Those, but more than that. Using water as a means of sensing things or sending messages across long distances, though only via water as a medium."
Underwater mages, eh? They would basically be the submarine analog of our current mages. They are a combination of submarine, sonar, and torpedo all wrapped together. Even underwater communications which aren't even possibly by current technology. This sounds like a good fit in our project to give mages 'non-military' roles in the military to hide our true strength. The tactical and strategic value would be astonishing... Degurechaff's insight is still on par. "How do you envision them being used?"
"Primarily entertainment and research but with an eye toward general utility." She lowered her voice, "Also deep sea exploration once they've been trained."
Too low to be detected even by the best sonar and able to sink the mightiest fleet. But it sounds like they are still looking for a good business case to disguise the troops. "Have you considered the need for structural engineers for bridges? Dam safety experts? And, though less pleasant, sewer inspectors."
Visha looked impressed. "Those are amazing ideas!" She called over a staffer and explained Rerugen's ideas. "This will be great for the members of the SubMariner Initiative and can lead directly into the ElDorado and Atlantis Projects!"
"I'll call the flagged people and start them up. We have some people who are skilled in these areas who can train them." The man thought carefully. "I think we have some veterans who have a background in demolitions. Many of them had a civil engineering background before being drafted and can train up our mages in the basics. They can get more advanced training with time and still earn a good salary."
The Vice-President turned back to the general. "This will help employ a good twenty mages, perhaps more if we can find them. Not to mention assorted support staff. How does it feel to help employ a hundred people?" Yes! This is why I love keeping this department close... it's always a lift to my spirits! And it looks like Rerugen is fully behind finding civilian jobs for all these people.
"My pleasure. Keep me informed if there are other people needing work and I'll see if we can brainstorm some solutions. I do believe the Navy -- and non-military organizations -- might also need people to check on the seaworthiness of their vehicles, so please save a few for us."
"Your name is the first on the list, Sir!"
I guess I'm a collaborator, after all.
* * *
Gisela was humming as she walked through the Children's Park. It was a playground near the school and worker apartments but there was a largish unused area nearby that was earmarked for 'expansion' on the maps but was just an empty field currently. The engineers had torn out half a city block of shoddy buildings down to the dirt and they had done only the most basic of landscaping before seeding the area with clover and wildflowers. The clover grew fast, was hardy, and didn't require maintenance. Because this open area had no immediate purpose, many had taken to picnicking there or simply playing. Frequently the kids would eschew the constructed playground equipment and simply played in the field.
Cal was there and was, apparently, amusing the children with his size. He was impressively large to even grown adult men so he must have seemed like a giant to the youngsters! He currently had one child holding each of his biceps, hoisted off the ground, and he was spinning gently around while they laughed with glee!
He spotted Gisela on one revolution and slowly came to a stop, letting the children down carefully. "Gotta go kids, my date is here."
"Guten tag!" they said simultaneously before running off to play with their friends.
"You are good with them. Do you have siblings?"
"Quite a few but none this young. Cousins, nephews and nieces... those I have plenty of!" He grinned widely. "We practically have to rent out a barn or two when we're holding a family reunion. My mum keeps bugging me asking when I'm going to add to the pile."
"Oh, does she?" she responded lightly with a sideways look at the big soldier.
"Ahem." He struggled to change the subject! "So those kids, are they from the Empire? Their Anglish seems too good for that."
"No, they are children of our American workers but we teach Germanian in our schools. Most other schools around this country removed that subject from their curriculum during the War. There will be a lot of good jobs, even if only within TvD, The President wants strong ties between our country and yours and bilingual skills will be quite marketable."
"Ha! Maybe I should pick up a few words, too."
"You do have words, a few..."
"Something beyond song lyrics and food, that is. You ready to go?"
"Ah, almost." She held up a folder. "My work day is almost over. I just have to deliver these and we can go."
He looked around at the empty field. "Strange office your colleague has."
"Oh, you!" She looked up and pointed, "Speaking of, there he is."
An uncomfortable-looking man came up and nodded. "Miss Morgenstern."
Cal looked at the man in civilian clothes and blinked. "Afternoon... Sergeant." So Gisela's recipient is Sergeant Smith? His secret information source has been her?
"Yes, umm, good afternoon Corporal." The woman he's been dating is the Germanian embassy organizer?!
Gisela looked at the two men with a slightly amused look on her face. They work together? Maybe I can have Cal deliver these for me next time? "Here are the dossiers of the new workers, the schedule of construction and the new maps of the consulate grounds. I'll get you the schedule of events and the American contractors next time." She handed the thick folder over. "The receipt is inside and thank you for your patronage!"
"Ahem, yes. Thank you. Good day, then." He tipped his hat as he took the folder. The two men exchanged looks that said, 'We shall never speak of this.'
* * *
Conrad Meier was sending his report back to Waldstatte... or rather, he was summarizing to his supervisor in the Unified States who would, in turn, send the report back. His supervisor-in-name only was conflicted. On one hand, he was ecstatic that his division was recording profits on a scale to boggle the imagination. On the other, Meier and his Germanian counterpart were indulging in investments to make the strongest gambler blanch. This put him in the awkward situation that if he got further involved with this mad scheme, he could reap amazing reward... or lose everything!
He chose the better part of valor and merely functioned as a go-between. A tiny part of a huge pie was enough for him and he could always disclaim Meier if things went wrong. Low rewards, yes, but also low risk.
"...so we'll be mixing in these long-term investments to support the American Selene line and with the anticipation of a sudden downturn in stock values across the board. These bonds and commodities will be a reserve of equity for investments after that. We predict the futures markets, except where outlined here, will be far too unstable to reliably invest in. Government intervention could unnaturally bolster or devastate any particular industry so it's best to bet against the market as a whole."
"These are rather profound predictions, Conrad. America has the strongest economy in the world right now."
"'Right now', is correct. It's so good that irrational exuberance has artificially inflated values. It only takes one shock to a such a system to bring it all down." He was confident in the analysis as he and Yvette had discussed it thoroughly. One startling thing, however, is that it was President Degurechaff who had provided it to her! Truly, she was wasted being sent into battle! Then again, isn't business just another sort of war?
"Hmmm, as you say. Perhaps we should make selective withdrawls from our American holdings. Does your analysis predict problems for Waldstatte?"
"'When America catches a cold, the entire world sneezes.' A phrase I heard from Oberst but highly applicable. This globe is no longer a matter of parts neatly separated on a map and we have to treat it as a single unit."
Conrad, to his supervisor's eyes, seemed more competent these days... was that the halo of success around him? But he literally seemed smarter and he had even lost some weight. Of course, these days he was working nearly every day and had less time for indulgences. Maybe there was a lion underneath all along? "Keep up the good work. Say, have you started exercising?"
"Eh? No, no, not at all. The food in America has no savor without the sauce of an accompanying beverage! I greatly look forward to my visit to the Consulate where I can visit their restaurants!"
I guess not...
* * *
While her colleague was handling the market side of things, Yvette was continuing her shopping spree across America. She didn't push or overspend for anything, just a few key purchases here and there and she also made contacts for the properties and industries she was interested in. Despite the ill-feelings of the Great War, money was money, and business was business. She was rarely turned away.
Today, oddly enough, she wasn't meeting with a business or property owner but a group of out-of-work railroad men. They were a tough-looking bunch, made tougher by hard times. Yet she didn't seem even the slightest bit afraid.
"So, gentlemen, thank you for meeting with me, today."
"Ain't no gentlemen here, miss, just us yard rats and gandy dancers." The head speaker was a tall, strong-looking black man which, Yvette understood, was somewhat unusual for the Unified States. The workers were a mix of races but everyone was darkened by dirt and coal ash making it a moot point in her eyes.
"That's good, because we need workers... a lot of them. Good wages under contract."
One man snorted. "Good until you don't need us no more!" Assorted heads nodded at this assessment. "You think we're not workin' because they aren't payin' enough? They closed the shop and then shut our line down. They'd rather work double shifts than let us in!"
"When I say 'contract', we mean that. Any layoffs come WITH pay, at least two weeks. And it goes up from there for people who we want to hire back after a slowdown. But our plans will keep you working at least three years and probably until retirement as long as you are productive."
The original speaker said, "No one retires, miss, we die on the line."
"With TvD, you WILL get to retire if you put in the years. You're allowed to buy stock in our company at lower prices and our company does very well. I joined just a short time ago and I could probably quit now and live off of my investments just from the company."
"Why don't you?" called a man toward the back.
She smiled, showing dimples. "I'm having too much fun! No one appreciated my work at my old job but now I get to do what I trained in rather than being a glorified bank teller. And I'll retire WEALTHY, rather than just COMFORTABLY which is always pleasant."
"We'd be happy just to work and leave the future to sort itself out." He scratches his head, seemingly puzzled. "You don't talk like no brass hat I've ever met, if you pardon me for saying that."
"My boss isn't like anyone you've ever met, either, but you might get a chance soon. She never does things the usual way and maybe I've inherited some of that?" She cleared her throat. "I am ready to sign everyone on tonight, on the say-so of Mr... say what's your name?"
"Just call me Junior, everyone does." Answering her unasked question, he continued. "Everyone makes fun of my full name, so that's fine."
"I can't use a nickname on my contracts, Junior. The courts won't enforce it unless you can be clearly identified. This is for your protection to make sure you get what you are owed."
He took a deep breath and sighed. "My name's Henry... John Henry Jr."
Yvette didn't catch the reference which John appreciated. "Let's get everyone under contract so I can pay everyone here the signing bonus. Oh, if you can refer other workers and they meet our muster, you'll get an extra bonus! We're going to need a lot of people, very soon!"
* * *
Gladieau was looking over the contracts and arrangements for the new bakeries... something he was much better suited for than unskilled assistant baker. His fiancee insisted he still do THAT, though, so looking over the paperwork was rather like a vacation for him!
So what if some contracts were dusted with flour?
The expansion to the new factories (technically old factories, but they were new to their venture), was going well. They cleaned everything out thoroughly, made any necessary repairs and remodeling, and were soon open for business.
He didn't have an assistant (there wasn't any need yet), but there was a TvD intern that was helping out and simultaneously learning the business. Unpaid, yes, but only for now.
"So, how does this work Herr Gladieau? It seems simpler than I understand, somehow."
"Ah, it seems easier, because it is easier!" He chuckled and pulled out a piece of paper. "It's what Degurechaff calls 'vertical integration'. That means we do everything inside the company. So we can bypass all the tedious making of contracts and negotiations." He started freehand drawing little cartoons of the supply chain. "So TvD farms ship wheat to TvD mills to be turned into flour. Then they ship it to our bakeries. Now, part of the deal is that we sell the bulk to TvD stores, but we also supply our own storefront." More and more little cartoons were filling the page with little arrows going here and there.
"That... doesn't look simple."
"Ah, but here's the magic part!" He drew a circle around most of the pictures. "All of this happens INSIDE TvD. From the outside and, for the most part, it's like a box where bread pops out. The company controls everything from beginning to end where the bread finally gets purchased. Even the vehicles and trains that move everything around are ours."
The youngsters concept of 'business' was undergoing a profound shift was he looked over the paper. "What happens when something goes wrong? That's a big issue for a company."
Gladieau shrugged, "So? Problems happen. But here, the whole company is invested in making sure everything works. If there is flooding in a farm, TvD engineers rush out to shore things up. If we need more mills, we might use an independent mill for a brief time, but more likely we'll build or buy a new one. Too much wheat? They'll sell the excess or maybe shift to a different crop."
"So the, umm, the 'bigness' of TvD is a defense? Because it can do everything?"
"Almost, almost... it's the 'diverse nature' that is other part. Because they do so many things, and they do it all inside the company, they are almost immune to what happens outside. That's why we use accounting entries and silbermarks rather than the unfortunately devalued papiermark."
The intern pondered this carefully. It reminded him of something but he couldn't quite grasp it easily and then it popped into his head. "Oh! So TvD is more like a country than a company. How remarkable!"
Gladieau hadn't actually drawn this connection himself. "Ahem, yes, yes of course, that was what I was getting at."
"So the President is in the Unified States as an ambassador for Germania but also of the 'country' of TvD?"
"Ha! That's a good way of looking at it. Yes, indeed." To his relief, Helga called out to him just then. "Sweetheart, I need more flour!"
"Coming, dearest!" He hurried out of the room posthaste!
Chapter 85 - Train Station
Tanya indulged in a whirlwind tour of the restaurants of the consulate and, for the most part, was delighted in what they were offering. "It's like the world's best eateries all were brought to one place. This is going to become THE place for dining and entertainment."
Gisela, who came along to take notes and assign tasks, had to ask, "Will there be enough people? There are a lot of restaurants."
"Restaurants AND bars. You know, intellectually, that this is the only place to get alcohol in any quantity in the Unified States. But you've vastly underestimated the desire, no the NEED of humans for drink. While I'm no fan of drunkenness, I'm in favor of freedom and there's an amazing amount of pent-up demand even after just a few months." She smiled out of the side of her mouth. "I, too, wouldn't mind a drink now and then."
"So Chicagoans will come here? In enough numbers to support all this?"
Tanya shook her head. "Not just them. The entire midwest. People will plan vacations around coming to here."
"To Tanyaland," Gisela said with a light, melodious laugh!
Degurechaff rolled her eyes. "If you must, yes, to Tanyaland. That's why there are so many hotels and entertainment venues. To drink, yes, but also to relax, to dine, to unwind, and so on. But more importantly than ALL that, to do business."
Gisela, who had understood most of this already, straightened up when she heard this last piece. "Business."
"The wealthy and the business classes go on trips for business all the time... there's only so much you can via telegraph, the post, and telephony. That means people have to travel somewhere. What we are making is a hub for all major business travel for the country, here, in our backyard." She indicated the entirety of the consulate grounds with a glance and a lift of her chin. "They want to isolate us, me, by shutting down the Germanian embassy and only opening the consulate here. Far enough away from D.C. without being too obvious. Even New York was a little too close for them but they made a fatal error. Chicago is ideally placed to become the only reasonable location for major business dealings on the continent."
A bit stunned, the other woman pictured the country in her head. Most of the population was east of the Mississippi, most of the industry and financial centers were in the north. "Is it really that close?"
"The Great Lakes are to the north for shipping and rail opens up the rest of the continent. That's why the Selene line is so vital. We need to control it completely so that we aren't subject to the whims of others. But this is just the tip of the spear... soon, they'll be begging us, hat in hand." She explained her ultimate plan while Gisela stared, shock on her face.
"Ambassador... my instincts tell me this shouldn't work but I can't think of a single reason why it wouldn't."
"That's why it WILL work. Even people who stumble on our plan will dismiss it even as it's being carried out in front of their faces. But the key is Chicago... all roads lead here."
* * *
Helen Schwab, hailed by some as the Queen of Chicago, was putting the last touches on her own birthday party under the very reasonable premise that there was no one better to do it... and she only deserved the very best. The venue was the finest hotel in the city which was right in the middle of the Germanian consulate.
Elegant, commanding, beautiful, a force of nature: that's how she was view by both the public and the press. This image was would be greatly shaken if they could hear what was going on inside her head.
I'll get to see Tanya tonight! I can't wait! She's just a few dozen yards away! Maybe I should go see her now? No, no, no... she's only been the city for a few days, she's too busy. She's coming to my party! She touched the RSVP from Degurechaff as if making sure it was real.
I wonder what her present is going to be. Maybe she'll do... that... for me? She floated off in her thoughts as her subordinates hurried about their tasks around her: decorations, food, room arrangements and so on. She barely noted their activities as she imagined enjoying the party with her best friend.
Her chief assistant looked at Helen gliding through the hotel, nodding and humming as she confirmed the plans with a serene gaze. She's so magnificent! An event this large, with so many notables coming and she doesn't even look remotely worried. She truly is a different breed of human, so far above the concerns of us common folks.
* * *
The head of the political office was drinking again. It was a cheaper brand but he made up for that in volume. His assistant approached him cautiously. When he was drinking, he might be cheerful, might be morose, and might even turn violent.
Fortunately, the news was good.
"Sir, I have word from our man in the Bundesrat."
The head lifted bloodshot eyes, seemingly not recognizing the speaker at first. "Oh. Oh, so what did he say?"
Because his boss seemed a bit disconnected, he recapped the situation. "Negotiations are still going on because it would require a change in the Grundgesetz. Everyone wants a piece of it and because sections are likely going to be subject to external review, it has been tricky."
He took another long drink. "Tell me all."
"As long as she doesn't get significant national or international support, we should be able to push through the Fairness in Taxation amendment."
Another pause. "That's... good? Yes, yes, that's good!" He stood up abruptly, not a good idea as he staggered before steadying himself with his desk. "We can finally get rid of that, that, that BLIGHT! How dare she do things... things..."
"Ah, yes sir. I will keep you informed." He slipped about before his supervisor's mood moved from happy to violent again. Experience had made him cautious and the sound of things being thrown around the office behind him proved the wisdom of his actions.
* * *
The divers, per testing, had gone below the thermocline. The modified orbs they were using protected them from the environment and provided oxygen. But those weren't the features they were testing that day. Antonia, an Idolan ex-pat who was living in Germania when the war broke out, was running the tests. She had been a Zart factory supervisor before her magical abilities were discovered.
"Test oh-six, how's the sound?" The mage asked her companions. She was holding an underwater notebook, a recent invention, with an attached pen.
"Clear." "Clear." "Clear. By the way, any word on when these communications can go above-surface?"
"No word on that Nemo 3. The sub-surface communications are limited to the water. Radio only works above. Straight magic gear can't handle the interface properly." She cleared her throat. "Let's get through the rest of this list and then go for depth."
In turn, she covered the other tests in succession. "Depth gauge." "Pressure test." "Temperature check." "Oxygen levels." "Shield." "Speed test." After a solid two hours, they were nearly complete.
"Okay, we'll finish up and get home. Scan the boxes we set up."
The other mages lowered light opaque helmets and allowed themselves to be spun erratically until they were thoroughly disoriented. Then they were lined up in one direction for consistency by their leader. "Okay, mark your maps with what you sense. We placed a random number of boxes so do your best."
She floated near the mages as they reached out their mystic senses. Some closed their eyes, which was fine, their task didn't require them to be vigilant. After a few minutes, they had all marked their sheets to varying levels of completeness. After a few minutes, she stopped them.
"Huh? I think I can sense more, though?"
"Promptness is part of the test. We're going to be sweeping large areas so we can't spend too much time in one place." She looked over the results but saw outliers on two of the sheets. "Eh? Samel, Renata. Can you still detect this one?" The two nodded. "All of you, go see if you can find this mark. Go together and move things if you have to. Bring back whatever you find."
She went back up to their boat and waited patient while confirming their results. Within a few hundred feet, all four matched and there were quite a three-way matches several times that distance. "I think we can work with this... the Presidents will be pleased."
A few minutes after that the other mages popped out of the water. Due to the pressure control of their orbs, they had no need to decompress and just landed on the deck. With a smug grin, Renata dropped something into her hand. "Told you it was there."
Antonia's eyes widened. "Oh, yes, I think they will be pleased... quite pleased!"
* * *
Having gotten permission, Fraud Seidel took it upon herself to teach interested children (and adults) how to play the piano. Tanya had merely shrugged and said, Your salary is the same so you can have fun in your spare time.
She was a teacher through-and-through, and having been freed of the need to struggle to survive, she rediscovered the joy of the profession. In just a day, her introductory class became quite popular and she already had a few students that she planned to give advanced lessons to.
Even more popular than her classes were her stories about White Silver. As a personal witness to several acts of heroism, her words had far more credence than muttered rumors of anything that happened during the War.
"Did she really save the Lady of the Harbor?"
Seidel nodded with a slight smile. "Indeed she did! We were just sailing into the harbor, the lights from the rising sun just touching on the Lady's torch..."
Although not professionally trained, she told the story with enough detail, the kids were able to imagine the scene as if they had been there themselves. Later on, they retold the stories to their friends not lucky enough to go to school on the Consulate grounds.
And they told their friends...
And they told their friends...
* * *
Reginald Higgsbotham, a proud member of the Gentlemen's Explorers League, bon vivant, and general man about town was sitting in a star-shaped table. It was a rather fat star, so that it was nearly completely convex. There were twenty chairs around it though they were hardly ever complete filled. Today, there were twelve others besides Reginald.
Per tradition, they were all masked, but since they all knew each other socially and through other means, it was merely for the tradition that this continued rather than to hide their identities. Each mask was quite stylized and marked, obviously or inobviously, with an alchemical symbol. Some were recognized by science as elements in their own right while others had been discredited or were recognized as 'mere' compounds.
Reginald, sporting a mask with inward-curving horns, spoke up. "I'll be brief."
Numerous eye-rolls met this proclamation. They were all too familiar with his 'brevity'. "Just say it, Bismuth, and let us get back to the party." The speaker, his mask marked with two circles connected by a line (made to look like eyes or glasses) was quite blunt and was impatient, to say the least.
"Arsenic, there's a protocol that must be followed, but, in interests of the quite valuable time of all present, I won't preface my remarks with undue elaboration and instead say what I propose, to wit: I wish to nominate a new member to our august body. We have sufficient members to do so here and I think she will add spice we've lack for quite a while!"
"Oh. HER. Are you still on that? She a menace and a murderer a thousand times over!" A woman with a bisected circle as a mask with eyeholes responded coldly.
"Yes HER, as you say. Despite invidious propaganda and a most unfair tarnishing of her reputation, Nitre, I think she has the proper spirit." He chuckled. "And don't forget our charter: we aren't looking for people we necessarily like, just ones that have a certain spirit about them. And most of all they have to be interesting. Can anyone here say that she is not?"
"You're sponsoring her, so I'll take your word on that. Aqua Regia votes YES and I won't change my mind. Ta-ta, all, I'm back to the festivities!" She left the table, unwilling to debate further.
"Still, what level shall she be at? Several suggest themselves..."
Reginald harumphed. "Planetary, of course. Her influence in the world demands no less."
Alum sucked in his breath. "You are serious, aren't you, old boy? Well, in for a shilling, in for a pound. I'm willing to see what comes of it." He shook his head. "Are you sure she'll accept, though? She strikes me as a rather free spirit... if those rumors are to be believed."
"I believe so, and I'll task myself to convince her."
The vote was narrow, but the ayes carried the day.
Reginald was grinning as the others hurried out so they could return to the party and he picked up a a token with a crescent moon on it. "So, my dear miss Degurechaff. It's time I think!" He flipped the token and then put it in his pocket as if it were a common coin.
* * *
If a train is moving forward on a track with no branches and no stops, most would think it would eventually reach the final destination.
But there were many things that could happen. It could derail. It could run out of fuel. It could be braked carefully. It could even reverse direction.
This is all true.
But what if the train was dropped from ten thousand feet directly overhead? What then?
Soon... the train would enter the station. And there was nothing to stop it.
Chapter 86 - Waste not, want not
Chapter Text
The head of the Political Office looked much better than he had just a few days ago. His eyes were clear, though his cheeks and nose were reddened from long days of heavy drink. He wore newly tailored suits as he had gained a bit of weight during the ordeal of the past year but they were smartly made and displayed his tall frame well.
Now that his allies had come around, he found himself emboldened. But having been burned at every turn, his caution had been awakened. He was not a stupid man but perhaps had been a bit too impressed by his own power. That was my great flaw. Not seeing my enemy clearly... not understanding my position thoroughly. Well not again.
His servant flicked the last speck of dust from his clothes and he strode out to the meeting.
A politician was idling in the other room, an expensive cigar held in one hand while he looked out the window. "Ah, Manfred! So glad you could finally meet us." The sarcasm was implied, he kept even the tiniest trace out of his voice.
"You know I hate that, Albrecht."
"Hate what, dear friend?" He smiled his politician's smile and it was nearly perfect. He was skilled at navigating the murky bogs of the government without getting the tiniest drop of fouled water on him. On the side, he had grown quite wealthy from this skill and aimed to ascend to higher levels before he was done.
"That name, of course. It's a weak one and I've never liked it."
"Tut tut! It's just a name, right?" He flicked an ash where it fell on a carpet that shouldn't have been treated that way. "We have more important things to discuss. Things like gold, eh?"
"And Silver." He scowled in a reverse image of the other's grin. "Don't push me, you hear? I still have influence, and secrets, aplenty and I'm in no mood to keep my ammo in reserve."
"Goodness! Ah, well, playtime is over. Shall we meet the others then Manf... that is... Herr Aden Gruber?"
* * *
The Grand Hotel, so dubbed by Tanya after she had done a thorough search of existing hotel names, was impressive, indeed. It was a towering edifice, only topped by the amazing Eiffel's Tower.
Tonight was its inaugural event for the hotel, the birthday party of the Queen of Chicago, Helen Schwab. This was also serve as a precursor to the grand opening of TanyaLand the day after. Despite protests, Degurechaff chose to let her friend's celebration be the sole event of the evening. The movers and shakers, celebrities and politicians, the glitterati and the fat cats... all of them knew that this was THE place to be tonight.
Unlike the normal rules of the consulate, a long line of limousines were allowed on the premises just for this event. This was part of the power of Schwab's influence and also of Tanya herself. From this point, the Consulate was open for business in a very literal fashion! People interested in either diplomacy or business with the new Germania, or rather with TvD, were flocking into the city.
The hotel was illuminated with multi-colored lights making it appear like a magical beacon visible for miles around. It drew the eye and the hearts of Chicagoans and visitors alike.
The consulate staff, as well as Helen's employees, were out in force. As they were all striving for the same cause, the two teams worked together surprisingly well. TvD controlled the area outside the hotel and did the catering while the interior service was all handled by Schwab's people.
Everything reeked of opulence and taste. There was even a red carpet to usher the guests into the venue. Like some movie showing – long before movie stars reached those heights – the walkway was lined with photographers. Mixed in (and floating above) were TvD photographers recording with orbs.
Indeed, the enthusiasm far exceeded what presidents and sports stars could even dream of. Several of the newsies were changing out their film during a brief lull in the limos. One looked up and said, "Bill? What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you on sports?"
"Me? Yeah, but it's, y'know, the social event of the year. So they need photos, right?" The guy looked out of place but was trying to talk a good game. "What are you doing in Chi-town anyway? I heard you were reporting in Wichita?"
"I pick up freelance gigs. I had time and so here I am." He waved at the crowd. "When do you think she will show up?"
A feminine voice interrupted. "The stars show up when it's most dramatic, of course. Evening Bill, Sean."
"Sheila?" both of the men said.
"This is not exactly a book signing event." Sean commented.
"It's also not New York," Bill added.
She shrugged. "A girl has to go where the news is. I mean, we're all here for the same reason, right?"
The looked at each other but Bill said what they were all thinking. "It's the booze, yeah."
Sheila grinned. "I have vacation built up and I'm going to do a tour of the restaurants."
Bill nodded. "Same here but with an emphasis on the beer."
"All of the above for me, but with a focus on vacationers." He looked over and up at the huge tower. "I'm hoping to get a spot there in a few days."
"Oh foolish boys, the best way up there is to have a reservation at the Tower restaurant! It's a Francois coffee and patisserie there and yours truly will be enjoying an early morning treat tomorrow looking down at all you insects below." She laughed like the villainess in a Broadway production.
Sean spoke quickly. "I say Sheila, don't I owe you dinner out? Perhaps you'll allow me to pay you back, say, tomorrow morning?"
She held her notepad in front of her mouth like a noblewoman wielding a fan coquettishly. "Oh, I think I could be convinced."
Bill grumbled to himself about not being quicker but he was doing a drinking tour of the Consulate for the next few days so he had time.
What was little known outside of the publishing and periodical industries is that EVERY reporter, or news cameraman, was given free lodgings at the Grand Hotel for this one night. It didn't matter what their actual job was, just that it involved media of some sort. There was widespread curiosity about the new ambassador so most companies were more than happy to let their reporters descend on Chicago to cover the event.
AND there was an open bar.
For the next three weeks, both print and broadcast media was flooded with stories about TanyaLand and how it was THE place to visit this year!
* * *
A dapper man in a tuxedo easily mixed with the party guests. He slid in and out of conversations like quicksilver... shiny, interesting and then gone in a flash. His good looks and charm made people fail to realized they didn't know his name or where they knew him from. But they could easily tell that he was familiar with them so it was a bit embarrassing when they couldn't recall his identity.
This was not too surprising as the number of people who knew his true name were less than five... at least on this side of the grave.
Excellent. Infiltration was flawless. During the confusion of the party, there will be many opportunities....
"Drink, sir?"
His ruminations were interrupted by a server nearby with a tray full of champagne flutes. He was about to respond affirmatively when his almost superhuman skills at target identification kicked in. "My word, Natasha, I almost didn't recognize you." The words he was speaking didn't match what his lips shaped... a valuable skill to throw off surveillance.
"My dear Boris, are you here to interfere with my mission again?" She was dressed as a serving girl... but her altered cup size and black hair color did little to disguise the body he knew all-too-well.
He raised his eyebrows, "Isn't it you who is interfering with my mission, Natasha?"
"Perhaps we should go somewhere and... argue the fine points, hmm?"
"A capital idea! I happen to have a room reserved..."
Once again, the two spy/assassins were distracted and took more accumulated leave without warning their respective employers...
* * *
The American army, as consulate guards, were on alert for the big event. Their Germanian colleagues were also out in force on the inner side of the wall. Frankly, the fortifications made all their jobs so much easier and they mostly paid attention to incoming vehicles and the odd chance that someone tried to come in by air.
Half a dozen magic detectors were arranged around the perimeter (plus TWO at the main gate). Normally, the mana coming from inside the consulate overwhelmed their sensors but they had managed to filter out the common signatures so they would only detect new sources.
Cal, naturally, was among their number. He was either going to be on night duty for the party or during the next day and drew both duties. He floated outside the boundary with a white armband to make him more visible to those inside. They were doing their best to avoid any possibility of friendly fire. "Haaaaa... it's going to be a long night, I think." He looked at the limousines outside the consulate and was amazed at how many people were coming to 'just' a birthday party.
"It probably doesn't matter. Gisela will be very busy both tonight and tomorrow! I'll hit the sack right after I do my 12 and be fresh for our date." He thought about the Germanian woman fondly. Wow, what a dame! Pretty, smart as a whip, good to hang out with... Hell, she's just plain fun!
He scanned the area near the wall to make sure no one was trying a circuitous in. The wide parking lot and well-lit perimeter made that unlikely. I wonder if she'd want to try something more permanent? Would she want me to move overseas? She's pretty serious about her job. When he realized the path his mind was taking, he had to laugh. Huh, I guess I'm pretty serious about this already. But why not? It's not like we're at war and she'll be here for awhile and I never planned on making a career out of the army.
Cal waved at one of the wall guards who waved back. The non-mages were keeping an eye out from atop the barrier while the Germanian mages kept to the air. Unofficially, their efforts were independent, but they were actually well-coordinated. It wouldn't look good to seem too chummy but there were practical men on both sides that cared far more about results than ideology.
Still, they didn't publicize their discussions.
As part of their ongoing training, they were taught officer-level courses like strategy and tactics. All the guards were expected to be a higher level of soldier... smarter, better able to respond to situations. He suspected other guards, at other embassies, weren't getting the same level of training but their duties were likely ceremonial. Cal didn't fool himself... there really could be an attack at any time.
What his instincts and studies told him is that the Grand Hotel and Eiffel's Tower were defensive structures. They towered over the consulate and even the surrounding city. You could see for miles over the water with the only obstruction anywhere being each other!
Despite that, the only real avenue of attack is from the air or from the river. And the river is far too open. The wall is too good for a land invasion and just seeing the attack isn't enough. It looks like if they were assaulted, they would use a mini-version of their interior-lines strategy. Their mages can reach any of the walls in seconds so they don't have to reinforce everything fully.
He looked up into the starry night sky. "I guess this would be it, then." Then he shook his head. "But who would be that stupid, huh?"
* * *
Two attractive women were walking down the street, ignoring the stares (and words) of the people around them. The taller one was a thinner mulatto woman but with sufficient curves to leave no doubt as to her gender. The shorter, curvier one was more cognizant of the surroundings... but only so she could roll her eyes disparagingly. Her skin was a darker and her teeth gleaming in contrast. She whispered to the other one, who nodded and smiled.
One odd thing, especially considering that it was well after sundown, was that the taller woman was wearing very dark sunglasses.
The other odd thing was that they didn't seem to have a destination. Just... walking.
Although this wasn't the worst part of town, such activities drew attention and, eventually, the very wrong sort of attention. The bespectacled one seemed to be guiding their route and would nod every time they came to an intersection or decision before turning decisively.
The latest path was a noisome alley, dark and menacing.
The shorter woman murmured. "The nightcrawlers are gathering around."
"We're near the spot so I'll be counting on you." She was moving with surprising surety, uncaring about any danger. Especially surprising as her eye were firmly closed behind her sunglasses.
"Oh ho! So close, so soon? It's been a long time since I had to flex my muscles like this." She noted there were a couple of people on their tail but a lot more than that behind them.
"Do you need any help?" There was slight note of concern in her voice.
"Pfft. Please. There can't be more than ten of them. You keep doing what you need to do." She pulled out two gold-runed daggers.
"Oh, little girl think she's tough, huh." A rough voice called out behind them. "But your little pig-stickers ain't gonna help you here." He smirked a pulled out a used snub-nosed pistol. It was dirty and not maintained but deadly in appearance and intent. There were several more ugly visaged men behind him and some further ahead in the alley. Most were armed with bats or short iron pipes.
She shrugged. "I have a lot of pigs to stick, so what better?" She banged the daggers together and they made a much louder sound than one would expect. On the third clash, a swirl of wind came into the alley picking up paper and garbage there. "I heard pigs were actually quite clever so maybe a different animal would be best."
The man growled at the insult and then sneered again. "What we want, you won't need your kneecaps." With a leer, he pointed the gun at their legs. "Break 'em boys and then we'll have a little fun!"
"Nine," she murmured as they grew closer. "Eight plus one, how fun!" Faster than they could react, faster than they could see, she flashed forward and two men found daggers buried in their chests. "Blood to ash." The collapsed unnaturally, not even making a sound. Two bodies collapsed to the ground.
Or rather, two empty sets of clothes fell to the ground and ash was picked up by the wind around the women.
While in shocked, she appeared behind two more and two spines were severed, "Blood to shadow." Even the low light from the ends of the alley and the half moon above dimmed suddenly.
"Fuck!" The leader fired twice reflexively but he didn't know if he hit anything. "Get her, get her now!"
"Blood to breath!" came a voice from the darkness. He found the air sucked from his lungs and he fought to breathe. He tried to order his gang but nothing came out.
"Blood to bone!" Cracking sounds came from around him but with only an eerie silence otherwise.
He tried to back away and fell over something. He could barely make out what almost looked like a body... twisted with more bends in the limbs than was natural. The smiling woman walked over to him. He emptied the rest of bullets at her but the bullets just spun around her like the trash from the alley.
"Is this the spot?" she said, her daggers somehow still clean after all that happened.
The taller woman nodded, ignoring everything that was going on.
"How convenient." She walked over to the man who was fruitlessly pulling the trigger. She leaned down and plunged both daggers into his chest and whispered, "Blood to blood."
Unlike the other dead men, his blood moved down his body like a row of ants following a trail. He tried to move but was somehow forced to watch it drain from his body and toward the other woman. Each beat of his heart, so very, very fast, was pushing more out of the wounds in his chest. The beats grew slower but somehow he was still aware, still awake. The blood formed patterns on the ground, glowing with the light stolen from around them.
He tried to close his eyes just to shut out the sight but some force kept them open until the ultimate drop left him and he was allowed to die.
The tall woman said mildly, "I was willing to draw it with my own blood."
"Waste not," she wrenched the daggers out of the exsanguinated body, "want not." The bodies were all shrinking as they desiccated, the bones were turning to dust and soon there was little sign that anything unusual had happened other than all the dirty clothes lying around. "You getting anything?"
"The unwielded sword approaches... the blinding sun crawls..."
She sucked in her breath. "When? Isn't this too soon?"
The other woman smiled. "The hand has moved." The glow faded and the bloody trails blew away like the dust it had become.
"What?!"
She took off her glasses and opened her eyes. "The signs are more than clear. Things will be so much more dangerous from now on. But still..."
"But nothing! This is the opportunity we were hoping for." She put her daggers away. "I think this deserves a drink, right?"
"Well, there's only one place for that. Shall we go?" The two turned toward the glowing ramparts in the distance.
Chapter 87 - Last Dance
[six hours ago]
Though the party wasn't declared the 'event of the season' by the hostess, plenty of others dubbed it so and it was hard to claim they were wrong.
Certainly the partygoers weren't objecting to this designation... not after entering the hotel. Those who were staying overnight, the vast majority of the attendees, were staying in either this hotel or the cheaper ones nearby (though this was primarily favored by the reporters and not the actual guests).
A couple disembarked from a trolley they had ridden from the parking lot to the Grand Hotel along with other passengers. Calling it a trolley was a misnomer as it was an integrated system entirely. The beweger had comfortable seats on the sides but also a place to roll bell carts used in hotels down the centerline so that they were locked in without blocking the vision of the passengers. "Miriam, that has to be smoothest ride I recall having. Those krauts know their engineering, it seems!"
She stepped down with his (mostly) necessary assistance as high heels were always a hazard no matter how well made the step. "Now, John, let's not be inhospitable. This is their country technically." She watched as the bellhops rolled the carts efficiently off of the back off the beweger and into the hotel. Technically, though, they were inside the hotel already as the trolley has taken them inside the building to a special lobby. All told, the vehicle spent perhaps three minutes in the building while being loaded with empty carts and making its way back to the parking lot.
"Right, right." He looked up at the glass-ceilinged atrium they had been deposited in. "I have to say, if it had been raining, this is much better than fighting the weather. Well, I best get us checked in. I can't say I don't look forward to the lines there."
"What lines, darling?" All she saw were travelers like themselves being escorted to the reception desks and nearly immediately to a tall, broad corridor immediately afterward. They followed, bemusedly, behind their bellhop who had appeared to guide them as soon as they exited the beweger.
He smiled and said, "Welcome to Grand Hotel! What name is your reservation under?"
"Parker. Just the two of us today."
"Got it. This will just take a second." During the short walk, they had arrived at reception. The bellhop called out, "Parker."
The girl behind the desk didn't take longer than 10 seconds to find their reservation. "I have a reservation for John and Miriam Parker for three days. Here are your keys and your room is 1123." She gave them a business card stamped with the hotel's name embossed on it and the room number on the back. "For security, the keys don't have your room number on them. Please sign the register right there."
As they were signing in, Miriam noticed there was a glowing orb attached to an attractive lamp that illuminated the register. "Oh, my, how attractive! Where can I get one of these?"
"I'm afraid we only have them in the Grand Hotel right now. They are rather specialized as they allow a mage to take a photo of each guest to ensure no one tries to impersonate you to get access to your room or any deliveries." The receptionist smiled with little wrinkles next to her eyes. "You are not the first person to ask but who knows what products TvD will produce for sale next? Please enjoy your visit!"
They were ushered to the elevators which were in banks with large brass numerals over each section. The largest was numbered "1-10", "11-20", 21-25" and so on. At the end was an elevator that sat in solitary splendor. Instead of the efficient groups of doors, it alone was a glossy black with highly polished or silver trim.
"Where does that one go to?"
"Oh, that? There are penthouse apartments that are reserved for guests of the President." He nodded knowingly. "Very luxurious... and the view! You can see Eiffel's Tower and the whole city clear as day from up there!"
The elevator opened with a ding and, again, they were amazed as it set itself into motion. "No operators?"
"All automatics, ma'am. Safer and more reliable and they 'work' 24 hours a day. You don't have to worry about having to step up or down and there are safety features built in that will cause the doors to retract if something is caught in them."
She stood nervously away from the doors but grew more confident as it moved. "Why, that's so smooth! As good as an experienced operator, I'd say."
The car stopped with a 'ding!' and the doors opened smoothly and quietly and, as John noted, perfectly level with the floor. He joked with the bellhop as they went to their room. "This will put a lot of operators out of work."
"They can do what I did and move bags for a living. Tips are better, for sure!"
John didn't even wait for him to hold out his hand and was already reaching for his wallet.
* * *
Visha was a modest person.
She was not given to fancy clothes, expensive jewelry or luxurious mansions.
However, she was the face of TvD now that the founder was in the Unified States so she was forced to project that image wherever she went. Many a tycoon or executive came off the worse when going against her. In their eyes, she was just a lucky young (very young!) woman and no threat to them.
So far, the list of failed wheeler dealers – and paramours – were legion. The ex-soldier was immune to bribes, blandishments, shady deals or even outright threats. Not that stopped them from trying.
The government official waited impatiently at the train station with his aide. "When is she supposed to be here?"
"It still lacks five minutes of the hour, Herr Klein." An experienced sycophant, he kept his position by keeping his boss calm and on task. "You've made plenty of preparations. The right people are behind you and your personal funds are extensive. After you make her situation clear, you'll have everything you want."
Three minutes later a highly-polished vehicle pulled up. It's sleek black panels and silver trim were distinctive. The model was hard to determine, which made sense as there was a small, but passionate, cadre of engineers at TvD that loved to modify vehicles.
The driver's door opened and a long, nylon-clad leg slid out. A low, stylish boot stepped on the graveled ground of the railway station, crunching down firmly.
The two men swallowed as a beautiful young woman stepped out of the car. Her clothes were the latest fashion, no, they were an early view of next year's fashion. Her long, blonde hair was carefully styled and braided to compliment the small black hat she was sporting.
Mein gott! Klein thought with wonder. Is she really just eighteen years old? How could this woman been so feared on the battlefield and also the dreaded Shadow Gold of the business world? If I didn't know better, I'd think she was a cinema star or millionaire's wife.
"Herr Klein, I presume?" She was wearing the sunglasses that had come into vogue recently, hiding her eyes, or rather cloaking them in mystery. "I heard that my shipment was being delayed. Is there... a problem?"
Nearby were numerous shipping containers of the new variety loaded onto specialty train cars. The TvD logo was prominent on them though their shape and design were enough for an informed observer to guess their source.
"Nothing major, my dear Visha. You might not have realized that such new train designs must go through an extensive testing and certification process before they can be used on public rails." He shook his head sadly. "It can take weeks, sometimes months – or longer! – depending on how radical the change. These new changes go beyond radical, of course."
She paused. "And this is what you call 'nothing major'?"
"Ah, nothing major with the right people in place, I meant!" He smiled, unable to hide an undertone of avarice... and acquisitiveness as he looked at the young executive. "With the proper influence, many things can be expedited. Of course, this is not without some expense and some compromise." His expression brightened. "I know! We can discuss this over dinner while my people go to work on it. Once the funds are procured and the proper contracts in place, we can have these trains out of the station by week's end. Present a terrible choice and then the solution but don't promise too much. They'll crumble as the days drag on and be willing to sign anything.
"Hmmm. I'm sure something else can be arranged."
His tone become condescending. "You have not been a company leader for long and have spent most of your working life in the military. There are way things are done... protocols to be followed. Only someone older, wiser, more experienced can possibly navigate these waters."
"Something the president taught me is that if the usual road is too slow, make your own road." She tapped her chin with a silk glove. "I wonder if you know of the emergency powers act involving the railroads that was passed during the war? The one that allowed the military to control the rails as a wartime measure?"
He snorted. "Of course, I do! Quite the annoyance, I'm glad to be rid of it."
"Ah, I see. You don't seem to realize that the act was never repealed. Due to the economic crisis and the need to ship tons of coal and reparations as efficiently as possible, the military central command still has full powers but they have been allowing civilian managerial control to take over some of the troublesome duties."
"W-w-what?! That's impos..."
"In fact. Colonel Ugar is still technically the head of the railway department and has decided that this 'radical' new design will be the standard for all Germania. In fact, the older design needs special dispensation to even use the rails going forward." She smiled. "Normally, this dispensation would be automatically granted but in cases where the civilian governance is a hindrance or incompetent, then a lengthy review may be required before any old technology is allowed."
She nodded toward the rail cars they were standing near. "Our shipments standing here is hardly a glowing recommendation, I'm afraid. My meeting with Maximilian will be very interesting today, I think."
Finally getting his wits about him, he nearly shouted. "T-there's no need for that! The trains will roll today, no, within the hour!" He rushed off personally while his bemused assistant and Visha watched him race off.
The assistant said mildly, "May I assist you back to your car?"
"No need. I must say your information was timely. These delays could have cost us many thousands of marks... real marks!"
"That old fool's time is past. I was happy to help." He held the door open while Visha slid back into the driver's seat.
"He'll be gone soon and you'll take his place." She laughed softly. "Are you ready to take control?"
"Of course. And please give my best to the Colonel when you see her next, Major."
"It's president and vice-president now."
He tapped his chest. "Not here. Never in here." He almost saluted but instead tipped his cap with a smile.
* * *
[The current time in Chicago...]
Countless guests wandered about the main conference areas set up for the party. In addition to the main ballroom were multiple smaller areas for those who preferred smaller venues to socialize in. Helen floated through the crowds like a flame, lighting up a conversation here, greet an old friend there.
Of course, enemies as well as friends were present. Frequently, enemies would see each other far more than those who genuinely liked each other. Against her will Lolita Armour had belated accepted the invitation she had received. She was stylishly, if somewhat encumbered by too much jewelery. Ugh! I hope I don't have to talk to that bitch tonight. She looked around while sipping a flute of champagne. Still, this hotel is rather nice and the drinks are good. Daddy's cellar is shrinking by the day so maybe he'll want to vacation here soon. He was complaining that high level meetings need 'lubrication'... illegal lubrication now!
"Why, Lolita! I'm so glad you were able to come after all!"
With hidden dread, she turned around with a smile. "Oh, Helen! Happy birthday!" She gave the woman a Europan air/cheek kiss. "I hope you got my gift."
"Of course, the earrings were lovely."
"You're not wearing them... such a shame."
Helen laughed! "I only have two ears! I look forward to using them later." She put a hand on the young woman's arm. "I hope you can stay a bit longer."
"Well, I did have a..."
"No, no, no! I must insist. My favorite gift is about to be presented."
Intrigued despite herself, Lolita said, "Oh? What could that..."
The light dimmed except spotlights that turned on to the stage at one end of the ballroom. "Shhhh! It's starting!"
Spotlights focused on the curtains which opened obediently to reveal a short, slender woman with shining blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. Her red dress had the sheen of silk but was thinner material that fit her curves and moved better than silk ever could.
Countless sequins caught the light and glittered in the eyes of the guests. Almost involuntarily, they found themselves applauding as she smiled and waved.
"Thank you! And thank you for letting me share some of my new songs with you tonight. You'll be the first people to ever hear them and this is my gift to my good friend, Helen. Happy birthday!"
Helen's eyes were alive with joy. "See! She's my friend!"
Lolita was trying to craft a sufficiently polite, yet cutting, reply when Tanya started to sing. Somehow, without a microphone, everyone in the large room, in fact the entire floor of the hotel, could hear her voice.
"I can see clearly now the rain is gone.
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day!"
When the applause had died down, she jumped immediately into Mr. Sandman but, catching the eye of the hostess, changed the lyrics slightly. Somehow she managed to sing in harmony although she was alone on the stage other than the backup band. "Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make her the cutest that I've ever seen..."
After a soulful rendition of Midnight Train to Georgia. She smiled a little wickedly and said, "Here's a song that might not be to everyone's tastes... I hope you like it, though."
"When you came in, the air went out
And every shadow filled up with doubt
I don't know who you think you are
But before the night is through
I wanna do bad things with you ..."
While she was singing, no one dared speak but after she was done, there were a lot of whispers. "Oh my. That song... it's so wicked!"
"I know, it's shocking that she dares to perform it."
The couple looked at each other and said at the same time. "I like it!"
She changed the tone with They Long to be Close to You which put smiles on faces all around the room. After a few more songs she finished up the Michael Buble version of Save the Last Dance for Me.
Now you can dance every dance with the guy
Who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight
And you can smile every smile for the man
Who held your hand beneath the pale moon light
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darling, save the last dance for me
She bowed to thunderous clapping and glanced upward as she stood up. The spotlights doused and the room lights slowly undimmed revealing an empty stage.
Helen, all smiles said, "See!"
Lolita was more amazed, and more jealous, than she had ever been in her life!