NationStates Jolt Archive

Zanzarkanikusian Centennial Festival
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 17th, 2355 Hours

There's an excellent turnout at Hawking's Park, despite the cold weather and late hour. Tens of thousands just at this one location have gathered to celebrate the one hundred year anniversary of Zanzarkanikus's founding, spilling over into side streets, and excited muttering cascades through the crowd as the large digital clock on the waterfront counts down to midnight. Television cameras scan the crowd, stage, and festive skyline as the countdown ducks under four minutes. Those who couldn't make it to the capital, Collegium, have tuned in or joined local celebrations which are connected via satellite feed, and displayed on various small screens arrayed on either side of the stage. The members of a chamber orchestra below the stage has been taking requests from the crowd to ad lib, sometimes getting other players involved and usually failing to coordinate (to good-natured amusement), but once coming up with a decent remix to a heavy metal track (to impressed applause).

The orchestra stops and the muttering becomes quieter but more excited as a portly gentleman in his late fifties with an impressive and well-groomed handlebar moustache comes into view of the spotlights next to the balloon- and banner-bedecked stage with some difficulty, pushing against his knees to climb the stairs. He has dressed himself somewhat ironically in full formal evening wear, complete with tailcoat, bowtie, and top hat. The silver chain to a pocket watch flaps against his side as he reaches the top of the staircase and turns to the podium. Huffing slightly, he turns midway and gives a Nixonesque double-V to the crowd, grinning broadly and eliciting a raucous cheer. His arms drop but the grin persists as he clasps each side of the podium and surveys the audience. The whispering now dies completely. He opens his mouth to speak, but on a whim looks over his shoulder at the clock instead. Just over three minutes.

"Oh, hehe. Excuse my lateness; traffic was murder." Visualizing the effect of a car making any sort of speed in the crowded streets, the crowd groans. A percussionist in the orchestra plays the cliche "ba dum bump tshh" sequence and throws a drumstick onstage at the man, to continued laughter. Giggling and catching it, he waves it admonishingly at the drummer and tucks it into his breast pocket, at the same time drawing out a handful of flash cards and perusing them briefly. "Well, time being what it is, there goes the agonizingly crafted speech," he drawls, tossing the cards into the front rows, none of them with any words on them and most of them doodled on randomly. The man straightens his shirt and looks at the sky soberly for a moment.

"Really though now," he begins, "this is quite an occasion. A few score seconds short of a century ago, the nation we now call home was born out of a desire to create a haven for academia, where your political or social stripe didn't matter nearly so much as your desire to learn and contribute to the learning of others. That was our primary goal, and from it arose many secondary goals, as nation-builders throughout history know all too well: care of the sick and needy, stewardship of the environment, planning and managing our cities and economy, the safety and defense of all within our borders. These challenges and more presented themselves, and we met them... ehh, not too badly." He props one elbow on the podium and leans on it, cocking his head and grinning proudly at his tittering onlookers.

"The founders, and their successors, wanted the initial success or failure of Zanzarkanikus to rest solely on its own shoulders, which is why we have never truly reached out to the international community, only quietly accepting those who came to our shores privately, and managed our own affairs in our own way. It has been rocky, and not all of the past one hundred years have been idyllic, but we may stand proudly today and say 'We did it. Our experiment has not failed, and we are ready to tackle whatever the world may throw at us.' As such," - he has to pause as some in the crowd whoop and cheer - "heh. As such, it is my pleasure and honour to open our ports and airfields to the leaders of the world, now and forever (so long as they behave), to help us celebrate our birthday and coming of age over the next week, as our Centennial Festival kicks off!" The cheering reaches a long crescendo in Hawking's Park, glasses of multitudinous contents clink across the nation, and confetti streams from the skyscrapers on all sides of the park. "Hang on, you'll need this!" The drumstick is tossed back to the drummer in the orchestra. The clock overlooking Manutius Bay ticks down past five seconds to midnight as the chamber orchestra belts out the national anthem.

"Oh good," the man says through the din as he looks over his shoulder at it once more, "you know how we writers are with deadlines." Reaching under the podium, Prime Minister Edgar Gilroy withdraws an air horn in each hand and empties them into the sky with glee, his top hat tumbling to the stage.

(OOC: Yeah it's a crazy nation name; I didn't think when I made it a year ago I'd be taking it this seriously.)

Prime Minister's Residence, 1100 Hamaliuk Ave.
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1014 Hours

"Hair of the dog, sir?" Edgar looked up at his secretary dolefully. Alfie was grinning damnably.
"Which dog? There was a whole pack of them last night. No, I think I'd better not. Those last two meet-and-greets were bad enough without mind-altering chemicals." He had already shaken hands (and claws) with an officious suit from Cerulon and a rather frightening individual from Zombolia, whose eyes kept glimmering eerily at the sight of Edgar's paunch. "I still don't know how all those folks ended up like that..."

Ignoring his boss's aside and skimming the front of a package of documents in his hand, Alfie hummed tunelessly, ending with a questioning "Hmm?" as his eyes reached the bottom of the page. "Apparently there was a minor snafu at the control tower at Collegium Airp... International Airport, rather." The 'International' had been added to the name quite recently, of course. "The incoming flight you were notified of earlier was actually merely a glitch in the radar screens."
"The one that showed a course from Neo-Ixania?"
"Quite." To Alfie's surprise, Edgar laughed uproariously.
"Brilliant!" he crooned through tears of delight. "And we sent Fitzroger all the way out there to greet them!" Alfie arched an eyebrow as he watched the Prime Minister slap his desk in joy. Alfie knew there was no love lost between him and Alexander Fitzroger, the Minster of Foreign Affairs, but he thought this was a little much.

Edgar sighed contentedly as his laughter lost its momentum. "Well, tell him he might as well stay there; it's not as if he's had a real job until now anyway. And have him send his deputy to the marina," he continued, indicating the dark blue curve of Manutius Bay out the window, "in case someone shows up in a yacht or a submersible or a zodiac or something."
"Or a battleship?" Alfie needled. Edgar waved his arm dismissively, his leftover grin vanishing.
"Pah. Don't tease me. I just don't like the idea, is all. A hundred years without any appreciable meddling with or from other countries, and if Fitzroger hadn't popularized the idea of 'making our voices heard on the world stage', it could well have been another hundred. And if I hadn't agreed, he'd have made it a confidence issue and taken this rather comfortable chair away from me." Edgar leaned back in the mentioned study chair and levelled Alfie with a defiant gaze. "We're putting everything at risk with this. There's enough backstabbing I have to watch out for just in Parliament without inviting the whole rest of the world to take a shot if they feel like it. Sometimes I think Fitzroger is trying to make my job so hard that I'll just give it to him." He sighed again, rather less contentedly this time, and looked out the window.
"I will have a coffee, though."
"'Sir."

(OOC: Cerulon and Zombolia are my other two nations. What happened there Neo-Ixania?)

OOC: Sorry for that, Zanzarkanikus. I must have accidentally deleted my post when I was editing it. Here is my post. You will have to edit your post. Again, I apologize and welcome to the international stage.

Silently reading a magazine, Svetlana Stürmer was waiting for the plane she was aboard to land at the Zanzarkanikusian airport, having been sent by the government to intiate contact with the new nation since Ivan Rucinsky, the Foreign Minister, was unable to attend. As she read the magazine, which was an assortment of articles about various topics, a flight attendant told her that it would take five minutes for the plane to land at the airport. Svetlana looked out the nearby window and a small smile crept upon her face. It would be only five minutes until she landed in this unknown nation where she would represent the Empire of Neo-Ixania. "Hopefully our nations can be friends." Svetlana uttered.

When the plane finally landed, Svetlana calmly took her briefcase filled with documents and her magazine with her as she silently walked off the plane. She looked at the nearby buildings and began waiting to be escorted to the festival by Zankarkanikusian officials. As she waited, she brushed her hand through her hair and fixed her skirt. "This must be Zanzarkanikusia. It looks like a nice place but the festival will probably be filled with many people."

Svetlana took the magazine and began reading again until she heard the faint sound of footsteps coming closer to her. She placed the magazine in her briefcase and looked at people walking in the distance, assuming they were the officials.

To The Government of Zanzarkanikus and The Hosts of the Zanzarkanikusian Centennial Festival,

Welcome! 100 years of happiness, 100 years of peace, 100 years of being alive! Happy birthday I guess I should say. I would love to attend the Centennnial Festival, it is always great to try to spark up new relations, especially when the only ones you have had were ones of war. If I may I would like to attend and bring along with me three of my finest gaurds. Yes I know you haven't had conflicts or war, but we have, and there are many people who would like us dead,

--President and Brigader John Batther

(OOC: Actually, Neo-Ixania, I rather liked how that worked out, so I'll just improvise again. Your scapegoats for today are: maintenance personnel!)

Collegium International Airport
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1056 Hours

Flanked by his staff, Alexander Fitzroger made quick work of the distance between his motorcade and the small jet with efficient-looking lines which lay on the tarmac. The wind streamed his tie and long hair to his left as he rapidly reviewed the information he had learned on his own and been briefed on this morning about Neo-Ixania. He found a few seconds to spare as he reached the shade of the jet and the foreign delegate became more than just a silhouette to be embarassed a bit at the hiccup with the new, and apparently miscalibrated, air traffic control radars which had them all thinking the flight was a glitch itself. At first he thought it was a surpassingly unfunny practical joke by Edgar Gilroy, but he supposed these sorts of things happen in the real world.

"Guten tag," his eyes crinkled as he smiled, greeting the rather attractive ambassador with a handshake and slightly accented German. "I'm afraid I only know how to order drinks in Neo-Ixanian, there being altogether too many languages in the world to be a truly effective diplomat, but I have a modest command of German if you would prefer that to English. My name is Alexander Fitzroger, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Zanzarkanikus, and I am sincerely pleased to be the first to welcome you to our nation."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you are tired after your long flight. The government has rented out a number of five-star hotels around the city for the next week, and some members of my staff have spent time arduously reviewing each one if you need help selecting where you and whatever entourage you may have would like to stay." A man and a woman at one end of the line behind Alex grinned widely as a few of the others eyed them jealously for their lavish assignment.

"On the other hand, the Prime Minister is currently enacting an open-door policy at his residence if you'd like to meet him. He is currently... finishing up some business from last night, but entertaining company always comes first. I think you'll find him to be a very colourful character." Alex gave a brief, ironic, grin, dismissing the other adjectives he could have used as somewhat undiplomatic.

"If you'd rather get a bottom-up view of Zanzarkanikusian culture, however, we can just go downtown and see the sights. It's quite easy to go incognito in Collegium in the winter, and the festival is in full swing now. If you'd care for somewhere a little quieter, the seawall is a great place any time of year." Alex looked into Ms. Stürmer's eyes and smiled. He couldn't help but think that being a high-ranking government official did have its occasional rewards.

Having turned his mobile computer off out of respect as he had exited his electric ministerial car, the communiqué from the Imperial Republic of Greston was forwarded instead to Alex's Deputy Minister at the marina in downtown Collegium. Surrounded by the creak of wooden piers and lapping of waves, Joumana Barak tapped out a reply in a long staccato of keys on her own computer:

To President and Brigadier John Batther,

Both personally and as a representative of my country do I thank you for your kind words. You would do us a great honour by coming personally, and I can authorize whatever companions you wish to bring, so long as they are unarmed. I imagine that if they are your three finest bodyguards, they are well-versed in unarmed combat at any rate. If you still feel your safety is at risk, though, I can additionally authorize a discreetly armed escort of half a dozen elite Zanzarkanikusian troops. I have supreme confidence in their abilities and believe you would find them unobtrusive and professional, were you to request their services.

Eagerly anticipating your reply and visit,

Joumana Barak, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs of Zanzarkanikus

OOC: Thank you for understanding, Zanzarkanikus.

The footsteps continued to grow louder in sound until Svetlana could see a group of ministers in front of her. Svetlana studied them with her eyes and immediately thought that they must be the people sent to greet her and escort her to the festival. It did surprise her a bit when one of them spoke in German, so she responded with the same greeting. "I speak Neo-Ixanian and German, sir, so for you to speak in German would not be a problem for me. Guten tag, Herr Fitzroger. My name is Svetlana Stürmer. I have been sent here to establish diplomatic relations between my nation and yours and to have a good time at the festival if possible."

Svetlana noticed Alexander looking into her eyes but remained calm and silent for those few seconds. It was nothing new, she thought, for men to admire her beauty instead of her determination and committment to her work. "I understand if the Prime Minister is unable to meet me at this moment but when he is able to, I hope I can meet him. As for accommodation, a simple five star hotel with all the modern amenities would be acceptable. To see downtown and the sights would also be acceptable to me. I am here to work, Herr Fitzroger, but I do not mind taking a break from my work in order to see the cultural sights of Zanzarkanikus, a nation which has just established contact with Neo-Ixania. Yes, I would like to see the seawall and anything that I can see during my visit here. I trust that you will take me to the festival or to my hotel, depending on what you have in mind, Herr Fitzroger."

Svetlana smiled but silently studied Fitzroger for a few minutes as she waited for his response. He sounded like a nice man. As she waited for him to respond to what she said to him, Svetlana began to think about the Prime Minister.

Alex only barely caught the brief spell of aloofness before Ms. Stürmer's reply, and understood immediately. Sometimes women mistook his natural friendliness for something more caddish, and of course a woman in her occupation would always have to have an eye open for those sorts of things. I already know not to judge a book just by its cover! That doesn't mean I can't appreciate nice covers for their own sake, he thought defensively. He resented having to change his nature for his job (this hardly being the first time), but he didn't want the first international relationship on his watch to get off to an icy start, so he slowly changed tack.

"I suppose I overstated the Prime Minister's business by calling it 'business'; a simple notification as we leave the airport would easily give him enough time to prepare for a meeting." Alex kicked himself mentally again; he had to stop subtly jibing the PM in public - he was only fanning the flames. Note to self: make sure new hires aren't as stubborn as I am. Or as young. "Aside from the commendable benefits of a face-to-face chat with a visiting dignitary, we have embassy and ambassadorial residence forms already drawn up for the end of the festival when we were going to offer them out; you may get a head start on that if you wish."

"After that, we can get a driver assigned to you to take you to a hotel and wherever else you desire, and once you have settled in we can provide a guide for you: with everyone coming into the city for the festival it is an excellent opportunity to see our full regional culture, as well as the ways we deal with the various challenges of high population density. Perhaps you can take some ideas home, and no doubt you've brought a great deal with you already. Consider it our first trade agreement already inked." He smiled again, but close-lipped this time.

"If you'll please follow me to the motorcade, Ms. Stürmer, I'll inform the Prime Minister of your coming and take you right to him." He looked over her head at the door of the jet, but saw no additional staff waiting there. Unusual, but in her first few sentences Alex knew that Svetlana Stürmer was highly organized and focused, and probably worth half a dozen aides all on her own. See? It's a good book already.

"I would appreciate a meeting with either the Prime Minister or the Foreign Minister. As for the forms, I do not mind having an early start at those. You must know that I will not be the ambassador to Zanzarkanikus but that another diplomat from Neo-Ixania would be appointed. Now, where shall I be signing these forms?"

Svetlana studied Alexander silently for a few seconds before she continued talking to him. He sounded and looked like a nice man and she did not worry about him. She was only here to conduct diplomatic negotiations and to take part in the Centennial Festival. "A hotel would be appreciated, Mr. Fitzroger. I would appreciate a hotel room with all the modern amenities and a good view of the city if possible. I would enjoy seeing the full regional culture of Zanzarkanikus."

As Svetlana walked to the motorcade with Mr. Fitzroger, she looked at his aides silently. "You must be wondering why I do not have any other people with me. I was assuming that Zanzarkanikusian security officers would protect me during my visit and I hope that is not a problem. If so, it may be possible for me to recieve Neo-Ixanian security officers instead. My assistants were unable to come with me, but I am sure I will be able to conduct negotiations without them."

As she took her seat in the motorcade, Svetlana took out her magazine and began reading the article she was reading earlier. "If you would like to talk on our way to the Prime Minister, Mr. Fitzroger, I have no problem with that at all."

To President and Brigadier John Batther,

Both personally and as a representative of my country do I thank you for your kind words. You would do us a great honour by coming personally, and I can authorize whatever companions you wish to bring, so long as they are unarmed. I imagine that if they are your three finest bodyguards, they are well-versed in unarmed combat at any rate. If you still feel your safety is at risk, though, I can additionally authorize a discreetly armed escort of half a dozen elite Zanzarkanikusian troops. I have supreme confidence in their abilities and believe you would find them unobtrusive and professional, were you to request their services.

Eagerly anticipating your reply and visit,

Joumana Barak, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs of Zanzarkanikus

[SIZE="3"]To Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Joumana Barak of Zanzarkanikus,

Thank you for you kind offer, but I respectfully turn it down. Thanks anyway, I hope to arrive soon, and thanks once again thanks for the offer.

--President and Brigader John Batther

Alexander Fitzroger attended Ms. Stürmer's words carefully and answered her questions.

"I would appreciate a meeting with either the Prime Minister or the Foreign Minister. As for the forms, I do not mind having an early start at those. You must know that I will not be the ambassador to Zanzarkanikus but that another diplomat from Neo-Ixania would be appointed. Now, where shall I be signing these forms?"

"Naturally. I look forward to meeting them as well. The forms are at the Prime Minister's residence at this point, you may work on them during your meeting, or take them back to your hotel room to complete at your discretion."

(OOC: Fitzroger is the Foreign Minister, or rather the Minister of Foreign Affairs.)

"A hotel would be appreciated, Mr. Fitzroger. I would appreciate a hotel room with all the modern amenities and a good view of the city if possible. I would enjoy seeing the full regional culture of Zanzarkanikus."

"I believe one of the rented hotels is in a neighbourhood on an elevated hillside. That would fit your preference admirably."

"You must be wondering why I do not have any other people with me. I was assuming that Zanzarkanikusian security officers would protect me during my visit and I hope that is not a problem. If so, it may be possible for me to recieve Neo-Ixanian security officers instead. My assistants were unable to come with me, but I am sure I will be able to conduct negotiations without them."

"Of course. I will assign you a detail of three diplomatic security personnel, and you may request more if you feel your safety is in danger. As for your work, you seem quite capable on your own." Alex tipped his head.

"If you would like to talk on our way to the Prime Minister, Mr. Fitzroger, I have no problem with that at all."

It was a little off-putting talking through a magazine, but Alex peppered the thirty minutes to Hamaliuk Avenue with a piecemeal commentary on the city after he sent an email to the PM's office. As he did that, his computer beeped and he read the forwarded correspondence between President John Batther of Greston and his deputy.

"Look there. Just outside the city limits you'll see a parking lot, one of our few. It's a government-owned car rental depot, actually. People sign a car out when they need to travel between cities or into the countryside, and when they're done they leave them at another depot, or the same one, and sign it out. They're billed for distance travelled and time used, and those funds go toward recharging, maintaining, and expanding the rental car fleets. Oh. They're all electric cars. Big savings in fabrication and maintenance over internal combustion cars because of the simpler design, let alone pollution and noise. Ask the Minister of Transportation if you want to hear a rather one-sided comparison of the two." Alex grinned. "She loves her job too much, really. I'm sure you noticed the huge farms just outside the city, too. Less distance between where the food is grown and where it's eaten means less transportation cost, among other benefits."

The motorcade hummed quietly as it entered the forest of skyscrapers quite abruptly. Sunlight twinkled down into the narrow space between buildings from slightly convex mirrors placed on the roofs at artistic angles. "Not a lot of suburban sprawl, you can see, particularly in Collegium: we decided to prioritize compactness here, although our other cities have suburban residential areas that are quite well-managed and worth a look. Our zoning calls for mixed-use skyscrapers quite predominantly. Commercial on the lower floors, residential above, usually. People sometimes work in the same building they live in." Alex indicated the buildings to either side out the tinted windows. The street-level windows on the buildings themselves were festooned with colourful tints of their own. "The streets are narrow, too. Not a lot of car use in the city means the widest streets are three lanes: one in each direction and a passing or emergency lane. Most vehicles you'll see are buses." Indeed, there were half a dozen in sight at that time. "Rail system is underground, and runs in a grid. Easy even for newcomers to know how to get where they're going with one transfer max."

They passed a large park on their left, a giant square of trees and grass, full of people. "Green spaces," Alex said simply. "Essential." he looked thoughtfully out the window at the pond passing by.

He came out of his reverie with a start as the view changed back to concrete, steel, and glass. "We won't be passing it, but the city is built around a power plant. Nuclear, and very high output. Having it in the centre of the city reduces the energy lost in transmission as much as possible, as does the high density. All these electric cars, buses, and trains make the demand for raw electricity far above and beyond a normal city's. It centralizes the source of pollution, though, and lets us control it much better. Hence the nuclear plant. Has myriad safety features, of course. Sorry, classified; even I don't have access to the little details." He grinned widely again.

The short convoy of grey cars took a turn and trundled uphill. "We're just there. Good thing, too, or I'd have started yammering on about the judicial system or something."

1100 Hamaliuk Ave.
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1131 Hours

The car stopped in front of an elegant office tower with a family of statues of large cats in front of the doors surrounded by a pool of water fed by a fountain. The white marble head of one of the cats was bent into the pool as if drinking. Alex got out of the car and faced them, hands in his pockets.

"The Coolcat, our national animal: a subspecies of tiger closely related to the Siberian. Its body is smaller than the Siberian tiger's, but its fur is thicker so it looks larger. It was named for the dark markings around its eyes that look like sunglasses. Gorgeous animal; maybe you can ask your guide to take you to the zoo and see a few. There're several thousand in the wild as well, limited more by available space on the islands than human encroachment. We keep more to the coasts and they prefer the inland mountains." Alex admired the lead statue, the roaring alpha male, for a second before turning to face Ms. Stürmer once more and waving his arm expansively towards the doors.

"Prime Minister Edgar Gilroy awaits us on the top floor. I'll introduce you to each other, and then I'll bow out and return to the airport to greet another honoured guest. One of these cars will remain behind and become yours for the week, driver, guide, and security detachment included. They know where your hotel is, so once your meeting with the PM concludes you can go directly there to settle in, or anywhere you wish. The festivities only really pick up at night, so you have some time to recover from whatever jet lag you might be hiding rather excellently."

(OOC: At this rate it'll take us a whole month to RP a week, hee.)

"Naturally. I look forward to meeting them as well. The forms are at the Prime Minister's residence at this point, you may work on them during your meeting, or take them back to your hotel room to complete at your discretion."

(OOC: Fitzroger is the Foreign Minister, or rather the Minister of Foreign Affairs.)

"I think it would be best if I work on them during my meeting. It would be good if I could enjoy my hotel room without having to worry about signing the forums."

OOC: I must have missed that.

"I believe one of the rented hotels is in a neighbourhood on an elevated hillside. That would fit your preference admirably."

"From what you have said, it does fit my preference. Thank you for the hotel room."

"Of course. I will assign you a detail of three diplomatic security personnel, and you may request more if you feel your safety is in danger. As for your work, you seem quite capable on your own." Alex tipped his head.

"Thank you for the personnel, I hope they are able to protect me during my visit here. Of course, I have no reason to feel that my safety is in danger but it is always good to be protected."

It was a little off-putting talking through a magazine, but Alex peppered the thirty minutes to Hamaliuk Avenue with a piecemeal commentary on the city after he sent an email to the PM's office. As he did that, his computer beeped and he read the forwarded correspondence between President John Batther of Greston and his deputy.

"Look there. Just outside the city limits you'll see a parking lot, one of our few. It's a government-owned car rental depot, actually. People sign a car out when they need to travel between cities or into the countryside, and when they're done they leave them at another depot, or the same one, and sign it out. They're billed for distance travelled and time used, and those funds go toward recharging, maintaining, and expanding the rental car fleets. Oh. They're all electric cars. Big savings in fabrication and maintenance over internal combustion cars because of the simpler design, let alone pollution and noise. Ask the Minister of Transportation if you want to hear a rather one-sided comparison of the two." Alex grinned. "She loves her job too much, really. I'm sure you noticed the huge farms just outside the city, too. Less distance between where the food is grown and where it's eaten means less transportation cost, among other benefits."

Svetlana listened to Alex talk about the the car-renting system and smiled at him; it sounded like a system that could work. She did not mind talking to the Minister of Transportation about the system but that discussion would be after she was finished with the Prime Minister. "I must say that the system of renting cars that you have is interesting, Mr. Fitzroger. As for the farms, I believe that I have noticed them. Neo-Ixanian farms are often the worry of the Agriculture Minister. If something goes wrong with the farms, he'll have to manage it."

The motorcade hummed quietly as it entered the forest of skyscrapers quite abruptly. Sunlight twinkled down into the narrow space between buildings from slightly convex mirrors placed on the roofs at artistic angles. "Not a lot of suburban sprawl, you can see, particularly in Collegium: we decided to prioritize compactness here, although our other cities have suburban residential areas that are quite well-managed and worth a look. Our zoning calls for mixed-use skyscrapers quite predominantly. Commercial on the lower floors, residential above, usually. People sometimes work in the same building they live in." Alex indicated the buildings to either side out the tinted windows. The street-level windows on the buildings themselves were festooned with colourful tints of their own. "

"It is nice that you could give me this information, Mr. Fitzroger. It is good that I learn about the nation that I will conduct diplomatic negotiations with. It is a good idea to adequately manage zoning and buildings in cities; you only have so many avaliable resources."

The streets are narrow, too. Not a lot of car use in the city means the widest streets are three lanes: one in each direction and a passing or emergency lane. Most vehicles you'll see are buses." Indeed, there were half a dozen in sight at that time. "Rail system is underground, and runs in a grid. Easy even for newcomers to know how to get where they're going with one transfer max."

"Neo-Ixania has a rail system; one underground and one above ground; as in the traditional railroads. We have both cars and buses in Neo-Ixania and most people are good drivers. Sometimes, though, we get the bad apple that spoils the bunch."

They passed a large park on their left, a giant square of trees and grass, full of people. "Green spaces," Alex said simply. "Essential." he looked thoughtfully out the window at the pond passing by.

"A green space in a city makes it appeal to people. Most people, I am sure, appreciate such luxuries."

He came out of his reverie with a start as the view changed back to concrete, steel, and glass. "We won't be passing it, but the city is built around a power plant. Nuclear, and very high output. Having it in the centre of the city reduces the energy lost in transmission as much as possible, as does the high density. All these electric cars, buses, and trains make the demand for raw electricity far above and beyond a normal city's. It centralizes the source of pollution, though, and lets us control it much better. Hence the nuclear plant. Has myriad safety features, of course. Sorry, classified; even I don't have access to the little details." He grinned widely again.

"Neo-Ixania has used nuclear power for a number of years. Our nation even has nuclear weapons but I am sure many nations in this world posess such deadly and destructive weapons. Yes; I assumed the nuclear plant would have safety features preventing people from causing a.....deadly problem."

The short convoy of grey cars took a turn and trundled uphill. "We're just there. Good thing, too, or I'd have started yammering on about the judicial system or something."

Svetlana smiled at Alexander for a few seconds before she looked out the window at the buildings as the motorcade traveled to the Prime Minister's office.

1100 Hamaliuk Ave.
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1131 Hours

The car stopped in front of an elegant office tower with a family of statues of large cats in front of the doors surrounded by a pool of water fed by a fountain. The white marble head of one of the cats was bent into the pool as if drinking. Alex got out of the car and faced them, hands in his pockets.

"The Coolcat, our national animal: a subspecies of tiger closely related to the Siberian. Its body is smaller than the Siberian tiger's, but its fur is thicker so it looks larger. It was named for the dark markings around its eyes that look like sunglasses. Gorgeous animal; maybe you can ask your guide to take you to the zoo and see a few. There're several thousand in the wild as well, limited more by available space on the islands than human encroachment. We keep more to the coasts and they prefer the inland mountains."

"Our national animal: the Ixanian Lion is known for its fur; which is gold in color (not real gold, of course) and its strength which is unparalled by many in the animal kingdom. It looks like animals such as a panther and posesses traits such as agility. Ixanian Lions were named in the Medieval Era by people who thought they were similar in nature to lions. It is nice to learn about the Coolcat and I have no problem with visiting some Coolcats at a local zoo."

Alex admired the lead statue, the roaring alpha male, for a second before turning to face Ms. Stürmer once more and waving his arm expansively towards the doors.

"Prime Minister Edgar Gilroy awaits us on the top floor. I'll introduce you to each other, and then I'll bow out and return to the airport to greet another honoured guest. One of these cars will remain behind and become yours for the week, driver, guide, and security detachment included. They know where your hotel is, so once your meeting with the PM concludes you can go directly there to settle in, or anywhere you wish. The festivities only really pick up at night, so you have some time to recover from whatever jet lag you might be hiding rather excellently."

"It will be nice to meet Prime Minister Gilroy. Thank you, Mr. Fitzroger, for the car. Since I do not know any other places to visit here at this moment, I will ask them to take me to my hotel. Perhaps you can tell me more about the night's festivities?"

(OOC: At this rate it'll take us a whole month to RP a week, hee.)

Svetlana walked inside the building with Mr. Fitzroger and silently followed him; thinking about her meeting with the Prime Minister of Zanzarkanikus.

The elevator doors opened before them as Alex began talking about the Festival. "Well, first of all, our accommodating citizens provide the meat and potatoes of the festivities just by showing up. Incidentally, I think someone's putting on an agricultural demonstration by the people who actually do provide the meat and potatoes. Beyond the millions in Collegium alone, we have visitors from, for example, the aboriginal communities in the northern islands, who are showing up in traditional dress and performing ceremonies like they have for thousands of years. I'm told that their hunting dance is fascinating; it involves heavy improvisation in the spirit of the hunt, which is of course unpredictable."

"Most of the universities are putting on historical plays, almost on the scale of reenactments. There are a couple on famous supreme court cases that ended up setting important legal precedents, one on the founding of Zanzarkanikus, and a human interest one about a refugee making it to our shores. Topics like that."

"It's kind of hard to list everything; it's pretty decentralized. Parades, open mike nights, costume parties, et cetera. Mostly it's just little celebrations that happen every night. Drop by a few of the parks and I guarantee there'll be something going on, being put on by someone." Alex pressed a button on his mobile computer to send a notice upstairs.

Prime Minister's Residence, 1100 Hamaliuk Ave.
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1133 Hours

Prime Minister Edgar Gilroy, feeling much more alert and awake thanks to the caffeine flooding his brain, looked over the embassy forms that Fitzroger had emailed him to have ready:

Zanzarkanikusian Foreign Embassy Application Form

We are pleased that you have elected to form a permanent diplomatic mission in Zanzarkanikus, and look forward to good relations between our two nations. Please review the following information and restrictions and submit a request to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in writing; it will be reviewed upon receipt and approved at our discretion. We may respectfully ask that you modify some or all of your requests if we find them untenable for any reason, regardless of their compliance with listed regulations. We may allow individual restrictions to be lifted in specific cases upon request.

Location and Construction
The following address ranges in Collegium have been set aside for diplomatic purposes:
100-650 Lighthouse Crt. - 12 plots available, 2023m² (1/2 acre) each
10-250 Terrace Dr. - 25 plots available, 2023m² (1/2 acre) each
1050-2500 Windwave Ave. - 30 plots available, 4047m² (1 acre) each

More locations may be zoned for diplomatic use at a later date if required.

The available lots come empty and prepared for construction of the chancery building itself and other compound structures, including walls and underground shelters if so desired, at your initiative and design and with our approval. Funding will be supplied by the Government of Zanzarkanikus up to USD$10 million.

Personnel, Equipment, and Vehicles
A maximum of 32 armed security personnel at any one time, equipped with pistols, semi-automatic shotguns, submachine guns, PDWs, any hand-to-hand combat weapons (including throwing knives and similar), or body armour, but not carbines, rifles, machine guns, automatic shotguns, explosive, biological, chemical, or radiological weapons or ammunition (excepting nonlethal chemicals such as tear gas, which are allowed), scopes, suppressors, or laser sights. The definition of individual weapons or equipment as any one of these, as well as the restriction of any weapons or equipment that does not fall under any mentioned category, is the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Defense of Zanzarkanikus only.

A maximum of six vehicles, which may be armoured, up to four of which may be armed. Vehicle weapons are the only exception to the restriction on machine guns, and this is the only restriction excepted for vehicle weapons. If used as vehicle weapons, machine guns must not be detached from their vehicle with the intent of firing at any time.

The total number of individual firearms, personal or mounted, on the premises is not to exceed two times the number of security personnel.

Unarmed personnel which act as security personel do not count as security personel in the above counts. This includes off-duty guards who will be armed while on duty.

No weapon calibre on the premises is to exceed 9mm (.355 in).

A maximum of 300 total embassy staff (including security).

He thought it looked quite reasonable; even the best-connected nations would hardly need more than three hundred embassy staff, and he shuddered to imagine the intentions of an embassy requiring better armaments than those. Trying to put out of his mind the concept of putting guns in the hands of foreign nationals on what was still technically Zanzarkanikusian soil (even if their laws did not extend there), he watched the door where Alfie waited.

Alfie put a finger to the wire at his ear and blinked, then turned to him. "They're on their way up." Despite his misgivings, Edgar felt excited at his first meeting with an official foreign national. The others he had met were those wishing to immigrate, which he felt was rather different. He stood as the knock came on the door and Alfie opened it.

"Hello, Alfie."
"Hello, sir," came the professional reply to Alex's friendly greeting. Alexander Fitzroger stepped into view from behind Edgar's equally-tall assistant, grinning somewhat ironically. Behind him, in turn, was the ambassador from Neo-Ixania. Edgar smiled at her welcomingly.

"Welcome, Ms. Svetlana Stürmer, to my office and to our country. Please, take a seat and we can get started on the paperwork that Fitzroger tells me you are eager to begin."

At his name, Alex straightened himself up and matched his ironic grin with a bow. "I'll leave you two to it, then. Miss Barak tells me that we have another approaching dignitary, so I'll retreat to the airport once more. Goodbye Ms. Stürmer, Prime Minister Gilroy. 'Bye, Alfie." Edgar waved dismissively without looking up, and Alfie looked over his shoulder to make sure his boss was busy with the embassy forms before smiling back at Alex and whispering "'Bye."

Handing Ms. Stürmer one of the forms, Edgar Gilroy said, "Now, these embassy locations are unique. Lighthouse Crescent is, predictably enough, near a lighthouse on a small peninsula on the east side of Manutius Bay. Removed from urban areas and quite peaceful, but that's a two-sided sword if you need to get into town frequently, or if people have to come to you."

"Terrace Drive is on the slope of the mountains at the western edge of the city, and has a great view of the city and bay. Closer to the city core, but still not in an urban area. You get some wildlife through there sometimes, and a few people have sworn they'd seen Coolcats on a couple occasions."

"Windwave Avenue is inland, amongst the farms. Very flat, kind of boring, but it's closer to the airport than the other two locations and I'm told the wheat shimmers rather beautifully in the wind, hence the name. The plots there are also larger, as you can see, since the land is more open."

"Once you've read that over, you can write up a formal request -" he pushed a sheaf of paper topped with a pen toward her on the table "- or if you have any questions, I can field those."

(OOC: Feel free to take over the conversation here; I'm spending altogether too much time on these posts as it is. ;P)

Well, first of all, our accommodating citizens provide the meat and potatoes of the festivities just by showing up. Incidentally, I think someone's putting on an agricultural demonstration by the people who actually do provide the meat and potatoes. Beyond the millions in Collegium alone, we have visitors from, for example, the aboriginal communities in the northern islands, who are showing up in traditional dress and performing ceremonies like they have for thousands of years. I'm told that their hunting dance is fascinating; it involves heavy improvisation in the spirit of the hunt, which is of course unpredictable."

"It is nice to listen to you tell me about the festivities, Mr. Fitzroger. I must say that I look forward to attending the festival tonight. To be honest, I am hoping to see the festival."

"Most of the universities are putting on historical plays, almost on the scale of reenactments. There are a couple on famous supreme court cases that ended up setting important legal precedents, one on the founding of Zanzarkanikus, and a human interest one about a refugee making it to our shores. Topics like that."

"Those historical plays sound interesting, Mr. Fitzroger. It is essential that every actor remembers his/her lines and does not make a mistake. That would disrupt the play if they did."

"It's kind of hard to list everything; it's pretty decentralized. Parades, open mike nights, costume parties, et cetera. Mostly it's just little celebrations that happen every night. Drop by a few of the parks and I guarantee there'll be something going on, being put on by someone." Alex pressed a button on his mobile computer to send a notice upstairs.

"The festival sounds more interesting, Mr. Fitzroger. I did not bring a costume with me but I am sure I can still participate in the festival regardless. Will the tour guide and security attend with me? I do not want to have bad memories when I leave Zanzarkanikus."

Prime Minister's Residence, 1100 Hamaliuk Ave.
Collegium, Zanzarkanikus
January 18th, 1133 Hours

Prime Minister Edgar Gilroy, feeling much more alert and awake thanks to the caffeine flooding his brain, looked over the embassy forms that Fitzroger had emailed him to have ready:

He thought it looked quite reasonable; even the best-connected nations would hardly need more than three hundred embassy staff, and he shuddered to imagine the intentions of an embassy requiring better armaments than those. Trying to put out of his mind the concept of putting guns in the hands of foreign nationals on what was still technically Zanzarkanikusian soil (even if their laws did not extend there), he watched the door where Alfie waited.

Alfie put a finger to the wire at his ear and blinked, then turned to him. "They're on their way up." Despite his misgivings, Edgar felt excited at his first meeting with an official foreign national. The others he had met were those wishing to immigrate, which he felt was rather different. He stood as the knock came on the door and Alfie opened it.

"Hello, Alfie."
"Hello, sir," came the professional reply to Alex's friendly greeting. Alexander Fitzroger stepped into view from behind Edgar's equally-tall assistant, grinning somewhat ironically. Behind him, in turn, was the ambassador from Neo-Ixania. Edgar smiled at her welcomingly.

"Welcome, Ms. Svetlana Stürmer, to my office and to our country. Please, take a seat and we can get started on the paperwork that Fitzroger tells me you are eager to begin."

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Gilroy. Yes; I am Svetlana Stürmer, a representative of the Foreign Ministry of Neo-Ixania."

Svetlana took her seat at the table and a small smile crept upon her face as she waited to recieve the paperwork.

At his name, Alex straightened himself up and matched his ironic grin with a bow. "I'll leave you two to it, then. Miss Barak tells me that we have another approaching dignitary, so I'll retreat to the airport once more. Goodbye Ms. Stürmer, Prime Minister Gilroy. 'Bye, Alfie." Edgar waved dismissively without looking up, and Alfie looked over his shoulder to make sure his boss was busy with the embassy forms before smiling back at Alex and whispering "'Bye."

Handing Ms. Stürmer one of the forms, Edgar Gilroy said, "Now, these embassy locations are unique. Lighthouse Crescent is, predictably enough, near a lighthouse on a small peninsula on the east side of Manutius Bay. Removed from urban areas and quite peaceful, but that's a two-sided sword if you need to get into town frequently, or if people have to come to you."

As Svetlana studied the form, she silently listened to Edgar talk about the embassy locations. The information he provided would be helpful for the diplomat who would be sent to Zanzarkanikus and the Foreign Ministry who would be glad that an embassy could be established in Zanzarkanikus.

"Terrace Drive is on the slope of the mountains at the western edge of the city, and has a great view of the city and bay. Closer to the city core, but still not in an urban area. You get some wildlife through there sometimes, and a few people have sworn they'd seen Coolcats on a couple occasions."

"Windwave Avenue is inland, amongst the farms. Very flat, kind of boring, but it's closer to the airport than the other two locations and I'm told the wheat shimmers rather beautifully in the wind, hence the name. The plots there are also larger, as you can see, since the land is more open."

"Once you've read that over, you can write up a formal request -" he pushed a sheaf of paper topped with a pen toward her on the table "- or if you have any questions, I can field those."

Svetlana finished studying the form and put it onto the table before she took the sheet of paper and pen in her hands. "The Foreign Ministry of Neo-Ixania has appointed a diplomat to be the Ambassador of Neo-Ixania to Zanzarkanikus. As for a formal request, I will send the forms to the Foreign Ministry who will send the diplomat in a couple of weeks; depending on how busy we are. I apologize now for the delays, etc if they will exist in the future."

Svetlana began studying the new form as she talked. "We will abide by the rules you have mentioned on the first form. You should recieve a letter from the Foreign Ministry in the future about our ambassador to your nation. Until then, I would be glad to discuss diplomatic relations. Since we have settled the issue of exchanging embassies.....is there anything else you wish to talk about, Mr. Gilroy?"

"We do have a diplomat ready to be sent to your nation but I feel it would be good to make sure that the Foreign Ministry knows about these forms." Svetlana looked at the second form silently for a few minutes. "This second form will make the embassy request official, correct? If so, I will send a copy to the Foreign Ministry who will send the diplomat in the future to Zanzarkanikus to work at the embassy."

"The festival sounds more interesting, Mr. Fitzroger. I did not bring a costume with me but I am sure I can still participate in the festival regardless. Will the tour guide and security attend with me? I do not want to have bad memories when I leave Zanzarkanikus."

"Your security detachment, guide, and driver will either accompany you wherever you wish or leave you to your own devices, at your prerogative. Consider them members of your own staff for the duration of your stay; it is their duty to accomodate your wishes within reason. Of course, we cannot completely guarantee your safety if you were to go without your security, but Collegium is a very safe place and there should be no problems regardless."

"We will abide by the rules you have mentioned on the first form. You should recieve a letter from the Foreign Ministry in the future about our ambassador to your nation. Until then, I would be glad to discuss diplomatic relations. Since we have settled the issue of exchanging embassies.....is there anything else you wish to talk about, Mr. Gilroy?"

"Perhaps you can provide me with information regarding the establishment of a Zanzarkanikusian embassy in Neo-Ixania, since we are on the topic. Additionally," Edgar thoughtfully let out a breath, "we could discuss potential trade agreements. Being a relatively small, high-density country with a focus on education, we are well-suited to the quaternary sector - information technology, entertainment, research and development, consultancy, et cetera. We could also negotiate educational exchanges: students and professors having the option of working or studying in either one of our nations' universities. We could at least get the preliminaries over with; air out our intentions and what we have to offer each other and such before official talks with your government."

"We do have a diplomat ready to be sent to your nation but I feel it would be good to make sure that the Foreign Ministry knows about these forms." Svetlana looked at the second form silently for a few minutes. "This second form will make the embassy request official, correct? If so, I will send a copy to the Foreign Ministry who will send the diplomat in the future to Zanzarkanikus to work at the embassy."

(OOC: Actually, the second paper was just blank. It's for writing out a request, using the first form as a guideline. I figured I'd let you use your own style for it, as opposed to just filling in blanks. If you're going your own Foreign Ministry write the request, just send the first sheet to them, naturally.

Also, sorry for the delay in posting; I've been sick and yesterday I just wanted to go to bed after work. :B)

"Your security detachment, guide, and driver will either accompany you wherever you wish or leave you to your own devices, at your prerogative. Consider them members of your own staff for the duration of your stay; it is their duty to accomodate your wishes within reason. Of course, we cannot completely guarantee your safety if you were to go without your security, but Collegium is a very safe place and there should be no problems regardless."

"It is nice to know that I will be able to have those people accompanying me during my visit; thank you, Mr. Fitzroger. I will probably keep my security with me for the entirety of my visit."

"Perhaps you can provide me with information regarding the establishment of a Zanzarkanikusian embassy in Neo-Ixania, since we are on the topic. Additionally," Edgar thoughtfully let out a breath, "we could discuss potential trade agreements. Being a relatively small, high-density country with a focus on education, we are well-suited to the quaternary sector - information technology, entertainment, research and development, consultancy, et cetera. We could also negotiate educational exchanges: students and professors having the option of working or studying in either one of our nations' universities. We could at least get the preliminaries over with; air out our intentions and what we have to offer each other and such before official talks with your government."

"Neo-Ixania will be able to accept a Zanzarkanikusian embassy and would consider signing trade agreements with your nation. Our nation knows the value of education and education exchanges can be created with students and professors being educated in our nations. One of the Empress' sisters, Princess Catherine, is currently being educated in the nation of Alfegos."

Svetlana smiled at Alexander before she continued talking. "A cultural exchange may also be suitable for our nations. It would be good for our nations to learn from each other. Tourists from Neo-Ixania can visit Zanzarkanikus and vice versa; a consulate should be created so the tourists of our nations can find adequate support when needed."

(OOC: Actually, the second paper was just blank. It's for writing out a request, using the first form as a guideline. I figured I'd let you use your own style for it, as opposed to just filling in blanks. If you're going your own Foreign Ministry write the request, just send the first sheet to them, naturally.

Also, sorry for the delay in posting; I've been sick and yesterday I just wanted to go to bed after work. :B)

OOC: Thank you for the information about the second paper. I think it would be good for Svetlana to talk to the Foreign Ministry when she returns to Neo-Ixania. I am sure we will be able to exchange embassies. Also, I understand that you were sick; apology accepted.

{OOC: Actually, that second quote is from Edgar; Alexander left the room after Edgar welcomed Svetlana.)

Edgar smiled at the mention of the cultural exchanges. "I agree. The establishment of consulates should not be much more than a formality after the embassy applications have been fully processed. I'm sure our eventual ambassadors would find it well within their scope to handle onsite."

"Perhaps you could give me a brief summary of the industries Neo-Ixania excels at, in case your government decides to proceed with trade talks. Nothing else occurs to me off the top of my head to talk about, so unless you have something in mind for discussion, I have a meeting with the Minister of the Interior at two o'clock to prepare for, and you may direct your future concerns and inquiries to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which will contact me if necessary."

"Tourists should be able to depend on consulates if they are in trouble; that is the purpose of consulates, I believe. As for industries that Neo-Ixania excels at; Arms Manufacturing, Soda Sales, Furniture Restoration and Beef-Based Agriculture are all industries that my nation excels at. We also excel at the production of diamonds, etc and have exported many wines from the wineries of my nation. The silk trade still thrives after so many years."

Svetlana looked at Edgar almost emotionlessly for a few seconds before she continued to talk. "Perhaps you could tell me what industries your nation excels at, sir? It will be nice for me to learn more about that. If you have any more questions; I am sure that I can give you an adequate answer. If not, then I suppose I can prepare to go to my hotel room or see the city. I must thank you for your hospitality."

A small smile crept upon Svetlana's face as she stood from her seat. "Prime Minister, thank you for allowing me to meet you today. I hope that our meeting can produce good fruits for both Neo-Ixania and Zanzarkanikus. If you have a meeting to attend, I can leave now."

(OOC: Edgar already mentioned the Zanzarkanikusia export industries: "information technology, entertainment, research and development, consultancy", etc. The Nationstates page listing for me says "Book Publishing" as well, which I took to mean entertainment in this case.)

Edgar's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the mention of wine and beef. "Excellent! I think you'll find us a very valuable market for those kinds of luxury items, not to mention industry-grade diamonds."

He jumped to his feet as she stood, shaking her hand. "Thank you for understanding. I'm not a fan of such revolving-door meetings, but with so much happening at this time, I must meet that by doing more as well. It was a pleasure meeting you and I look forward to a healthy relationship between our two nations."

OOC: I must have missed that. The industries I mentioned were from my NationStates page. Soda Sales used to be the best industry but it looks like it has been replaced.

"I can arrange a deal to export wine, beef and diamonds to your nation. I will have to notify the Foreign and Economic Ministries of the possible deal and see if it has support in Neo-Ixania; but I am sure that a deal beneficial to both of our nations will be created." Svetlana knew that Edgar's nation desired wine and beef; seeing that his eyes widened when she mentioned those exports.

Svetlana smiled at Edgar as she shook his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you, sir and you must know that I look forward to a healthy relationship between our nations."

Svetlana opened the door and walked out; looking for the driver to take her to her hotel room and/or a tour guide to give her a tour of the city. She was glad to know that her meeting with Edgar was a success.

The three diplomatic bodyguards stiffened as they saw the shape of Svetlana Stürmer through the glass doors, approaching them. The wide sidewalk was uncrowded, and the people took only passing interest once they figured that the Prime Minister wasn't about to step into the waiting car from his office building.

Alex Fitzroger's motorcade was long gone, and Svetlana was ushered into the only remaining black eight-seated electric car. The driver and guide were already waiting there. The driver angled her head to look in the rearview mirror as the doors closed and asked Svetlana, "Where to, ma'am?"

Svetlana looked at the bodyguards for a few seconds before she entered the electric car; she thought that the seats were comfortable. She listened to the driver and smiled.

"Please take me to my hotel room, sir. IBefore my tour of this city begins, I want to see my hotel room."

The driver nodded and the vehicle accelerated steadily and quietly, taking the next intersection toward the mountains. Out the windows, Svetlana saw people taking lunch in their business attire or otherwise, sitting at tables on the strips of grass and greenery which encompassed the streetward half of the wide sidewalks. Mobile food stalls of myriad cuisines dotted the inner sidewalk, deployed for the noon rush. The route took her along a seaside road for a short time, and she looked out over a small marina filled with fishing boats and a few sailboats. A maglev train zipped by on an above-ground section of the subway to her left.

The hotel bordered the more urban areas to the southeast and a few fishers' houses to the northwest, overlooking them both from its bluff. Her bodyguards escorted her into the ochre- and white-stuccoed building as the driver waved off the valet. The concierge smiled from behind the front desk in the softly lit columnar lobby, expecting them, and lifted his right hand palm-up toward the elevator.

Svetlana's room on the top floor was wallpapered and upholstered in varied shades of khaki, with mahogany as the dominant choice for the woodwork. The sliding door to the balcony was open, a slight sea breeze blowing the long and evanescent white curtains into the room like drowsy flags. Her room keycard was on the nightstand by the bed, next to a telephone very much like the Bell Model 102, albeit with a digital display and touch dial.

Her bodyguards swiftly swept the rooms before nodding at her and retiring to the hallway. An adjacent room had been rented for them, and they would take shifts outside her door as well.

She spared the minibar a glance before she investigated the refrigerator in the small kitchen, which she found stocked with a little bit of everything for snacking. For meals, of course, she would merely have to call room service. She looked at the wall clock; just after one o'clock in the afternoon. Quite a bit had happened in the last few hours, but what to do now?

The driver nodded and the vehicle accelerated steadily and quietly, taking the next intersection toward the mountains. Out the windows, Svetlana saw people taking lunch in their business attire or otherwise, sitting at tables on the strips of grass and greenery which encompassed the streetward half of the wide sidewalks. Mobile food stalls of myriad cuisines dotted the inner sidewalk, deployed for the noon rush. The route took her along a seaside road for a short time, and she looked out over a small marina filled with fishing boats and a few sailboats. A maglev train zipped by on an above-ground section of the subway to her left.

The hotel bordered the more urban areas to the southeast and a few fishers' houses to the northwest, overlooking them both from its bluff. Her bodyguards escorted her into the ochre- and white-stuccoed building as the driver waved off the valet. The concierge smiled from behind the front desk in the softly lit columnar lobby, expecting them, and lifted his right hand palm-up toward the elevator.

Svetlana's room on the top floor was wallpapered and upholstered in varied shades of khaki, with mahogany as the dominant choice for the woodwork. The sliding door to the balcony was open, a slight sea breeze blowing the long and evanescent white curtains into the room like drowsy flags. Her room keycard was on the nightstand by the bed, next to a telephone very much like the Bell Model 102, albeit with a digital display and touch dial.

Her bodyguards swiftly swept the rooms before nodding at her and retiring to the hallway. An adjacent room had been rented for them, and they would take shifts outside her door as well.

She spared the minibar a glance before she investigated the refrigerator in the small kitchen, which she found stocked with a little bit of everything for snacking. For meals, of course, she would merely have to call room service. She looked at the wall clock; just after one o'clock in the afternoon. Quite a bit had happened in the last few hours, but what to do now?

At the hotel, Svetlana decided to look around for several minutes before sitting on her bed; watching Zanzarkanikusian television. That activity did not last long but it appeased Svetlana as she watched programs that she thought were interesting. After she was finished watching television programs, she looked at the items she brought with her to Zanzarkanikus; which included a nightgown, a swimsuit and a notebook.

She decided to save her swimsuit for the night; hoping that she could use a hot tub. To pass the time, she looked for the phone and called her tour guide. "This is Svetlana Stürmer, sir. I want you to give me my tour of Collegium." Her desire to have her tour reminded her of the buildings and people she saw before she arrived at the hotel; the fishers' houses, the food stalls and people dressed in business attire at picnics. Collegium was an interesting place and Svetlana wanted to see as much of it as possible.

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