Beth Gellert
03-01-2006, 04:35
With changes afoot in the Commonwealth, a rather over-due mission was dispatched to Neo-Anarchos. There'd been contact before, and trade was healthy, along with at least some mutual respect or even admiration, but this specific visit was only made possible by the completion of a major work under-taken in India on the dawn of the South American revolution. Four Marathon transport aircraft crossed the Andes and landed in Neo-Anarchos wearing the yellow star and red fist of the Igovian Revolution. One of them was an aerial-refuelling tanker, one fitted with comfortable passenger facilities, and two configured for cargo lifting.
Beddgelen popular consuls, the Commonwealth's democratically accountable diplomats, exited the personnel-transport to inform the masses of the Anarchan Revolution that the Igovians wished to be excused the presentation of a trite physical token of their congratulation and support. The first cargo-transport-configured Marathon broke-open its doors and dispensed a military crane. The purpose of this became clear in the opening of the last Marathon and the prone presentation of that trite gift.
Lain on its back until erected by a crane, and hidden until released from its giant crate, it was a larger-than-life statue fashioned by hand from Karnataka granite by a number of workers involved normally in the part-time beautification of interested Phalansteries there. The depicted figure was a Geletian woman, and quite unusually she was dressed in a gigantic though delicate silk saree from Tamil Nadu, which was noted for their fine production in ordinary dimension, and it was coloured in red with gold highlights and edged in black. Under her left arm was carved a basket, and the consuls presented the statue with this stone vessel full of the finest spices from Kerala. Her right hand was raised to the sky and angled a little ahead of her body, which appeared to be in the midst of a forceful forward stride, and the hand was clenched into a fist. Her wrists were decorated by numerous bangles of silver patterened by distinctly Celtic shapes with world-beating skill in Karnatakan gold. The saree was seen to be fastened with a golden broach the size of a dinner plate, and this had at its centre a star-shaped cluster of rare sherry-red topaz gems.
She had ear-rings of gold, this time from Jharkhand, and even the unworking hinges of her basket, that would perhaps have been metal in life, were represented by fittings of Chhattisgarhi diamond.
Almost undoutably the attention of many a viewer would be centred upon the lady's fist, held high above them. This was clenched around a six-rayed star ruby of uncommon proportion, the shining arms within which danced almost magically as the viewer moved his gaze across the epic statue. The ruby was a giant stone of almost one hundred and forty carats, a symbol indicative of the glimmering, immortal heart of revolution in the hands of the people.
The Sri Lankan gem, which belonged in the past to Prince Llewellyn before being requesitioned from his family during the reunification, once caught the attention of a mid-C20th Quinntonian media boss named Rosser Reeves, and in another lifetime might have ended up in such an institution as the Smithsonian had the late Beddgelen Prince not valued pomp and status over cash. The statue was in truth made as large as it was because of the decision to include this stone -of immeasurable value to a marketeer- which would have been too large for the hand of even a famously lofty Geletian girl, had she been life-size!
If anyone noticed the fine workmanship in the statue itself, and was in a position to clearly see the strong, beautiful features of the possibly quite fictional young lady titan depicted, they would see that her otherwise prepared and orderly presentation sat along side a number of hairs hanging loose across her face, though she did not seem to mind the indication of some sort of unladylike activity.
Finally, this lady of Geletia wore sandals with straps made of softwood from Andhra Pradesh, and the Igovians said that some day this [wood!] would deteriorate, and it should be up to the Anarchan revolutionaries to replace it with their own timbers, and that meanwhile the fine silk saree was not eternal compared to gems, gold, and stone, so the upkeep or replacement of this would be a lasting Beddgelen obligation. These things were apparently meant to serve as long-term reminders of the revolution and of Anarcho-Igovian solidarity, the Beddgelens being somewhat obsessed with the possibility of a revolution's collapse by forgetfulness or ignorant malice.
After presenting the statue; promising to help move it to anywhere the Anarchans wished it kept; and making no mention of the fact that, if sold to someone prepared to pay, the value of the raw materials, man-hours, and skills involved would be quite possibly rival to all the useless jewels of Europe's monarchs combined; the Igovians added merrily but quite honestly, with a nod to the emptied cargo-configured Marathon and then another to the tanker, "...as a one-off, you can keep this one if you let us fill-up this one!".
Beddgelen popular consuls, the Commonwealth's democratically accountable diplomats, exited the personnel-transport to inform the masses of the Anarchan Revolution that the Igovians wished to be excused the presentation of a trite physical token of their congratulation and support. The first cargo-transport-configured Marathon broke-open its doors and dispensed a military crane. The purpose of this became clear in the opening of the last Marathon and the prone presentation of that trite gift.
Lain on its back until erected by a crane, and hidden until released from its giant crate, it was a larger-than-life statue fashioned by hand from Karnataka granite by a number of workers involved normally in the part-time beautification of interested Phalansteries there. The depicted figure was a Geletian woman, and quite unusually she was dressed in a gigantic though delicate silk saree from Tamil Nadu, which was noted for their fine production in ordinary dimension, and it was coloured in red with gold highlights and edged in black. Under her left arm was carved a basket, and the consuls presented the statue with this stone vessel full of the finest spices from Kerala. Her right hand was raised to the sky and angled a little ahead of her body, which appeared to be in the midst of a forceful forward stride, and the hand was clenched into a fist. Her wrists were decorated by numerous bangles of silver patterened by distinctly Celtic shapes with world-beating skill in Karnatakan gold. The saree was seen to be fastened with a golden broach the size of a dinner plate, and this had at its centre a star-shaped cluster of rare sherry-red topaz gems.
She had ear-rings of gold, this time from Jharkhand, and even the unworking hinges of her basket, that would perhaps have been metal in life, were represented by fittings of Chhattisgarhi diamond.
Almost undoutably the attention of many a viewer would be centred upon the lady's fist, held high above them. This was clenched around a six-rayed star ruby of uncommon proportion, the shining arms within which danced almost magically as the viewer moved his gaze across the epic statue. The ruby was a giant stone of almost one hundred and forty carats, a symbol indicative of the glimmering, immortal heart of revolution in the hands of the people.
The Sri Lankan gem, which belonged in the past to Prince Llewellyn before being requesitioned from his family during the reunification, once caught the attention of a mid-C20th Quinntonian media boss named Rosser Reeves, and in another lifetime might have ended up in such an institution as the Smithsonian had the late Beddgelen Prince not valued pomp and status over cash. The statue was in truth made as large as it was because of the decision to include this stone -of immeasurable value to a marketeer- which would have been too large for the hand of even a famously lofty Geletian girl, had she been life-size!
If anyone noticed the fine workmanship in the statue itself, and was in a position to clearly see the strong, beautiful features of the possibly quite fictional young lady titan depicted, they would see that her otherwise prepared and orderly presentation sat along side a number of hairs hanging loose across her face, though she did not seem to mind the indication of some sort of unladylike activity.
Finally, this lady of Geletia wore sandals with straps made of softwood from Andhra Pradesh, and the Igovians said that some day this [wood!] would deteriorate, and it should be up to the Anarchan revolutionaries to replace it with their own timbers, and that meanwhile the fine silk saree was not eternal compared to gems, gold, and stone, so the upkeep or replacement of this would be a lasting Beddgelen obligation. These things were apparently meant to serve as long-term reminders of the revolution and of Anarcho-Igovian solidarity, the Beddgelens being somewhat obsessed with the possibility of a revolution's collapse by forgetfulness or ignorant malice.
After presenting the statue; promising to help move it to anywhere the Anarchans wished it kept; and making no mention of the fact that, if sold to someone prepared to pay, the value of the raw materials, man-hours, and skills involved would be quite possibly rival to all the useless jewels of Europe's monarchs combined; the Igovians added merrily but quite honestly, with a nod to the emptied cargo-configured Marathon and then another to the tanker, "...as a one-off, you can keep this one if you let us fill-up this one!".