NationStates Jolt Archive

Having left Rutianas, and all that that nation had to offer behind, the next stop on the tour was Third Spanish States.

Lamoni had had some dealings with this nation in the past, so it was not the completely unknown that they were flying into. It seemed that Third Spanish States was so intent on the rights of their citizens that they had dispensed with a government in the conventional sense of the word. In a word, they were anarchists; but they had somehow been able to create a fully modern and functioning state.

When the Free Republic had participated in one of it's first extra-regional conflicts, they had been paired with the military from Third Spanish States, and some of that experience had rubbed off on the Lamonians who had had contact with them; leading to where Lamoni was today, selling military equipment to those who had the money to afford it, lowering the tax rate, and helping other nations protect the rights of their people, where needed.

So it was with all of this in mind that President Stinson awaited his visit to Third Spanish States, as they entered the nation's airspace.

"LAF 1 to ground control, request vector to designated landing." The ever present pilot of the SL-12 aircraft was still following procedure by the book. He never really got to see all that much of the places that had been visited, he reflected. Still, flight time was flight time, and this duty was supposed to be an 'honor.' The pilot didn't care about the 'honor' of the position, he wanted to get back into his old fighter wing, and fly F-31s with the rest of his old wing.

Just when the aircraft was on its way to Tucker's International Airport, in the Third Spanish States region known as the Anglosphere, with the vast twin islands visible from their seat next to the window, it could be noticed a quick glimpse of something in the sky colored like the sky itself, as if the clouds were alive, heading towards a large quantity of forested area far ahead to the south, the Bacconi Woods. Maybe it was just their imagination, or maybe some sort of fighter just passed through afar heading to those woods.

In the flight control tower, surprisingly calm because the peak hours were gone, one of the men, as he was about to finish writing a post anonymously in a certain infamous Internet forum from his business computer, had his leisure interrupted as a voice-over came, asking for permission and vectors to land. Ignoring the stream of messages signed as anonymous, the flight controller turned his seat around to reach for the headset without getting, and as he putted it on, he opened a console in the computer operating system and typed a set of arcane commands. Then, turning on the phone, he spoke, leaving an impression of laxity:

"Yeah, all clear for landing. This time is off the peak hours."

It was then that he reminded what the designation meant, and thought, becoming aware of the gaffe that was about to come up, for seemingly Cecily had inherited well the tendency of some of her relatives to leave things for "Mañana":

Fuck! We have no single delegation here now to meet the president. Lockhelm you gun-totting bitch! Why did you not come?

Pondering about it, he finally got an idea, and looking at his friends, he said, with his ego growing like a bloated fish:

"Hey dudes, Cecily didn't arrive, so what do you think about me going to represent the Confederacy?"

Most of them simply ignored the question. Some busy playing online games, other browsing forums and one of them browsing porn. Only three turned their seats to the direction of the flight controller, and one of them said:

"We agree, and who says nothing just doesn't matter. Let we handle this for now Francisco. You need a break anyway. Go there, have your day of glory, but next time a politician comes, we two will bet for who gets to pretend being the diplomat. Do you agree Juarez?"

"Yeah, lets bet for it. but now it's your turn Arnavisca." Juarez, the other controller who cared, answered, confirming their approval. And thus, combing his hair with his hands, Arnavisca adjusted his polo t-shirt and jeans pants, and headed to the elevator of the tower, making his way to meet the visitor from Lamoni.

That was only one of many... different things that would likely impress those who never arrived there before. The airport customs area was truly... filled of exotic situations. There was not a single security personell in the entire place. However, despite the illusion of lacking safety, many of the few passerby crowd had visibly holstered pistols, and some of them even had some sort of futuristic looking bullpup submachineguns, although nobody actually looked at those with fear or worry. It was perfectly normal there, there were even a couple of two married women carrying assault rifles and a man carrying an unloaded GEM missile launcher on a large cart with the aid of some others to the luggage area he has just bought from a weapons shop. Another fact of notice was that some people really cared little about formality. There was a group of probably friends, presumably going to a beach, who were waking around in underwear, with the ladies, including twelve-years old, clad only in monokinis, and nobody making shifty stares at them, like if such half-nakedness was entirely normal. Men walked shirtless around and some clerks were visibly in their pajamas. Some punks and real counterculture were also going through, and among the small group at that non peak hour, the most interesting sight was that a man on his thirties pulling an entirely naked woman on her twenties with a collar around for an "walkie". It was a truly different, bizarre, tradition-challenging place. And perhaps the staff of the president of Lamoni should have researched for an airport with house rules regarding nudism.

Also, instead of advertisement, most of the airport was filled with anarchist war propaganda, calling for people to join the Revolutionary Army, Navy or Air Force and fight against the totalitarian People's Republic of Spain. Some of them being extremely similar in style to the propagandas of the Second World War and of the First Spanish Civil War. It was a fresh change from the usual corporate visual pollution, for most of them were actually artistic, in a retro way.

OOC: I am a tad confused. Which nation are Stinson and the First Lady visiting first?

OOC: People's Republic of Spain

OOC: PRS(a Stalinist police State) is a completely different nation to Third Spanish States with the same historical background, and it's currently naval blockaded and about to be invaded by the Confederacy. In fact, Mallorca is already being invaded.

OOC: I thought that we were visiting Third Spanish States first.

(OOC: This is about Third Spanish States. PRS is off-limits for several IC reasons, one of them being an aerial exclusion zone.)

Luckily, the pilot had also heard of Third Spanish States, and their... unique way of doing things. The SL-12 Presidential airline touched down at Tucker's International Airport, and like in all of the previous visits so far, President Stinson and his wife Adelaide exited the aircraft.

There was a man approaching them, so they decided to wait for him. President Stinson knew that there was no real government in Third Spanish States, but he wouldn't let whoever it was that decided to approach them know that. He had read up about the country online as they had flown here and felt (with no idea how rightly or wrongly) that he had at least a beginners knowledge of the 'country.' "Good day sir, are you here to receive us?"

He urged his wife to follow him, and was not at all surprised to see that the stories about nudity, and guns that he had read up on were true. While he was paying attention to not bumping into people, he was also watching his wife's reaction to what was going on around them.

Andrew Stinson was also looking at the propaganda posters, and he noted that a lot of them could have come directly from the 1940's. They were that good. He had heard that Third Spanish States was currently in a war with the People's Republic of Spain, but he didn't know the specifics of that war. "Francisco, how is the war against the PRS going?"

Francisco was somewhat overwhelmed by the experience as he finally reached the customs area of the airport. He simply continued to walk towards them in an orderly fashion, and as finally he was next to the president of Lamoni, he felt a tingling sensation that perhaps he would not be able to address him. Ignoring it, he offered his greetings as curious, the man asked about something very important to them:

"Francisco, how is the war against the People's Republic of Spain going?"

Looking at the president, Francisco reminded of all the transmissions and broadcasts about the war. The transparency was quite uncommon, and people tended to know about those who died nearly as soon as they died. The ongoing strategic operations were an open book for the general audience and for the so called armchair generals. Francisco was aware of the last updates on the situation, and thus replied:

"Well, Andrew, this is as far as I know about it. The gate to continental Spain is being opened now as the liberation of Mallorca begins. Sixty thousand of our best have currently landed on the shores of the island, and advance through their armor and transports to push the enemy into surrender, to convince its misguided soldiers to join our cause and no longer risk their lives for the corrupt and traitorous government they are currently fighting for. On the other hand we have secured complete naval superiority and have been very successful in the aerial battlefield so far, but we fear that sooner or later Stoklomolvi support might come."

OOC: IC post coming soon.

"....This is a very....interesting nation. Unique....very unique."

Adelaide Stinson was one of those people who always would be open to learning new things about the world around them even if they didn't always agree with the new things they were to learn. She was amazed to see how the Third Spanish States looked like an extremely liberal nation very different from Ixania and Lamoni where she had her roots. It was very interesting to see how the people of this land lived their daily lives and she didn't feel like making herself look like a self proclaimed moralist. If that's the way they want to live, she thought, then so be it. Adelaide looked at her beloved husband and smiled. "....This looks like a nation we'll have much fun learning about, Andrew; I can sense it."

Adelaide looked at Francisco and smiled at him before adjusting her blouse and making sure that she looked presentable as the (pregnant) First Lady of Lamoni. She didn't want to embaress herself or her husband on any of these visits. "...I must say that you have an interesting nation here, Francisco. I'd surely be interested in learning more about it. The world can have plenty of nations which operate to all sorts of ideas and your nation is one of them."

"Well, Andrew, this is as far as I know about it. The gate to continental Spain is being opened now as the liberation of Mallorca begins. Sixty thousand of our best have currently landed on the shores of the island, and advance through their armor and transports to push the enemy into surrender, to convince its misguided soldiers to join our cause and no longer risk their lives for the corrupt and traitorous government they are currently fighting for. On the other hand we have secured complete naval superiority and have been very successful in the aerial battlefield so far, but we fear that sooner or later Stoklomolvi support might come."

"From what I know about Communists, they will support one another only so far. Then, the rats start to leave the sinking ship. If you can make it 'politically unacceptable' for the leadership in Stoklomolvi to support the PRS, then the Stokies might make some diplomatic noise, but they won't do anything militarily. The problem is that you have to convince their highest leadership that it would be a bad idea to do it; and they generally don't care about things like the number of their own people lost to get a victory."

Thinking for a moment, Andrew Stinson decided to talk about a different subject. "Francisco, do you know of things that my wife and I should do and see while in your country? We would like to experience Third Spanish States in full."

Adelaide looked at her beloved husband and smiled. "....This looks like a nation we'll have much fun learning about, Andrew; I can sense it."

"From what I have read on their websites, Third Spanish States embraces Anarchy, even going so far as to have elected sergeants as their military's officer corps. Almost everyone carries a gun, and all sorts of other things that wouldn't happen in a 'standard' nation happen here everyday. We shall have much fun learning about this place indeed, my love."

(OOC: Introduction on Tucker (http://forums3.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=13956333&postcount=10))

As they spoke in the disembark area of the airport, a distant noise of movement became closer and closer to their ears. It was coming from the west, where an elevated rail system stood, stretching as far as the eyes could see. A very fast train was moving through the monorails from afar, levitating over them. It was one of the many MagLev stations across the Confederacy, which seemed to be as close to the airport as possible, with likely a station in the very airport itself. It was the opus magnum of the Confederacy mass transit systems. A system capable of transporting not only passengers, but also cargo, with rapidness and efficiency through large distances. It has been vital for the war effort, allowing for soldiers to arrive at the ports in matter of hours, and also a major contributor for the lack of traffic jams in most of the megalopolises. The cityscape afar from the airport was dominated by tall buildings, with a visible massive network of skyways among many of them, a somewhat futuristic scenery, and amidst such, some glass-like buildings full of green, skyscraper farms which ensued the self-sufficiency of the city. However, all of such visages were dwarfed by three massed structures afar. Kilometers tall Arcologies, each built to house three million of inhabitants, as part of a formerly desperate program to address the critical population density issues brought from the libertine nature of their society coupled with the economic prosperity.

Looking at the cityscape with its nonstop activity, Francisco attempted to get at ease with such important visits, for he was not really a diplomat, and he knew the importance of having friends in a world bereft in tyranny. Quickly regaining his mood for talking, he finally addressed the question posed by the president of Lamoni, looking at the towering Arcology from afar:

"It depends on your preferences. As you see, this city is full of life, modernity and technology, those three wonders are arcologies, which once were our only hope to not become an human anthill of misery. They not only pack entirely self-sustaining biospheres, but also have wonderful hanging gardens, as many of our buildings, and hanging parks, for conventional urbanism would not suffice in a city like this, with its forty-five millions of inhabitants."

Interrupting the explanation as he remind of further details, Francisco then continued explaining, with a small glint of pride, about his homeland:

"Our population density however has become not so distributed, and in the interior of our islands , there are quaint little towns, reminiscent of the Spain of the Ninety Thirties in architecture, or to old British towns, depending on where you come to. The north of this island is basically settled by British anarchists, the east by Portuguese and Spanish and the south by a small community of Germans, Scandinavians and Algerians, while the other island is inhabited by French, Spanish and Brazilians, and speaking about the French, can you believe they have named one of their cities as Vichy?" he asked, smiling and wondering if Stinson would realize the irony, as he prepared to finish what he had to say:

"Now if you are looking for nature, there is Ciudad Gaia, built together with the forest rather than against it. The Bacconi Woods cover much of our interior, built artificially through the course of decades, and there are many falls through the rivers that bath them. And finally, there is Enclave City in our territorial waters, a city built beneath the seas, which has an economy of its own... a capitalist economy."

Pondering on whether there was more, he finally finished his explanation as he realized he told everything that had to be seen. Another interesting thing to notice is how there was no real red carpet anywhere. There were no annoying reporters, Paparazzi, legions of sycophants or any of what likely would be expected to happen in another country. In fact, nobody even seemed to mind his presence, and the people simply treated him like anyone else, refusing to pathetically plead for autographs or anything in such sense, a few looked at curiously, but otherwise nobody really seemed startled by the visitors.

Apparently, the very concept of celebrity and of the futile press that seemed to gather around such visits was void in Third Spanish States. Francisco was not sure if they felt pleased or bothered by the fact there were no annoying reporters around, for he knew that some had their egos massaged by such presences. Equally, there was no security or police anywhere in the airport, although that a quick look at Francisco's hilt would reveal the pistol holstered in his belt.

President Stinson marveled at the size and complexity of Tucker. He could see maglev trains, multiple walkways, and lots of graffiti everywhere. And yet, no one seemed fazed by any of it. Third Spanish States was it's own nation, and one could either adapt to that, or be lost while everyone else adapted.

There were skyscrapers everywhere, and the city looked as if it might be able to completely supply itself. Though, Stinson didn't know about the farms inside of some of the skyscrapers... he would have enjoyed seeing something like that. There was something about the idea of a self-sufficient city that made it seem like the wave of the future. Looking at one of the arcologies, he marveled at the sheer number of people that could live inside of it. Making copious notes in his memory of what he was seeing, President Stinson saw multiple ideas that he would consider trying to transplant to Lamoni.

"It depends on your preferences. As you see, this city is full of life, modernity and technology, those three wonders are arcologies, which once were our only hope to not become an human anthill of misery. They not only pack entirely self-sustaining biospheres, but also have wonderful hanging gardens, as many of our buildings, and hanging parks, for conventional urbanism would not suffice in a city like this, with its forty-five millions of inhabitants."

Interrupting the explanation as he remind of further details, Francisco then continued explaining, with a small glint of pride, about his homeland:

"Our population density however has become not so distributed, and in the interior of our islands , there are quaint little towns, reminiscent of the Spain of the Ninety Thirties in architecture, or to old British towns, depending on where you come to. The north of this island is basically settled by British anarchists, the east by Portuguese and Spanish and the south by a small community of Germans, Scandinavians and Algerians, while the other island is inhabited by French, Spanish and Brazilians, and speaking about the French, can you believe they have named one of their cities as Vichy?" he asked, smiling and wondering if Stinson would realize the irony, as he prepared to finish what he had to say:

"Now if you are looking for nature, there is Ciudad Gaia, built together with the forest rather than against it. The Bacconi Woods cover much of our interior, built artificially through the course of decades, and there are many falls through the rivers that bath them. And finally, there is Enclave City in our territorial waters, a city built beneath the seas, which has an economy of its own... a capitalist economy."

"I think that I would like to see one of the arcologies first, Francisco. Then i'd like to see Ciudad Gaia, and Enclave City. Your French population named one of their cities Vichy, Francisco? There is much historical irony in that. When did construction begin on the first of your islands, and how did Third Spanish States come into being as the non-traditional nation that it is? I would be very interested in hearing about that."

OOC: bump. Sorry for not posting promptly, but my work hours are not conducive to as much II posting as I might wish. I haven't forgotten the thread.

OOC: Let me know if Stoklomolvi sends forces to help Stalinist Spain. I could help you against him if you want.

(OOC: Also, sorry for my lack of posts here. I have writer's blocks, am partly biased to War RPs and like to add some different and cliffhanging things, details to avoid whenever possible one-line long posts of character conversations. Equally, I hope that my pulling of your characters to avoid lacklustre posts isn't godmodish)

Francisco pondered on how long he would be able to present himself as a diplomat of sorts, but from their reaction so far, it seemed that his game was working as he hoped for. The airport was not much by its own, but he had another issue to think about, which immediately came to his mind. There would be no Limousine, no red carpet or anything alike for both, and he knew that in other countries, such things were wasted away. He had to think fast on how to talk them into not bothering taking a mass transit system to the Tienda del Coche Arcology.

"I believe that the TdC Arcology might be the most interesting one. The Biosphere IV lies there, inhabited by genetically modified animals and plants that have been successfully integrated into it, as does one of the greatest Fallout shelters of the Confederacy. However, compared to the Sky Garden, they are not beautiful sights, only exotic." he said, trying to cope with some thoughts at the same time. Then he took a pocket computer, and began to type something over it.

Perhaps there was another way, and finally he smiled to the couple, although it was a reaction to what he saw rather than to themselves as a gesture of politeness. The Spaceframe airport buildings would soon be ignored by his eyes, as looking at both, he then explained, uncautiously letting some of his personal pride to interfere:

"President Andrew and Adelaide, I have good news: it's fortunate that my private helicopter lies in the helibay of this airport, I will take you to the Tienda del Coche arcology right now. As for Cecily Lockhelm, she is just a direct representative, and far from being the exclusive representative of our people. Although she might arrive. She is too busy with the war matters to get into some courtesy, I am afraid."

And thus, he walked through the pavement next to the tarmac, ignoring completely the customs area as he led both to the outskirts of the airport, past many logistics depots, fully automated, where unmanned lifters came in and out bringing luggage and commercial cargo, with few if any workers around. The silhouette of a small thing ahead began to became clearer as he stepped through the few dozens of meters towards it.

"A good old Eurocopter" Francisco then said, continuing to walk. "With self-service snack service. Once we arrive in the Arcology, we'll check some restaurants."

It was then that he remembered one of his questions, and realized how he has forgotten to answer the same right on the moment. He had a good excuse in mind though, as it was a long answer, and he knew how to explain it as he said then, as the helicopter was almost at his reach:

"As for your interest in our history, let me tell the history while we are on flight, because it's not a short one. Short version is that events led this place to become a haven of authentic counterculture, I can tell me later, now, have your seats."

Realizing that they would find it strange that the same man who presented them would also be the pilot, Francisco then smiled, and explained:

"Don't worry about the lack of a specific pilot. Like a man once said, specialization is for insects, and da Vinci was one of the greatest men of human history. I wanted to be a diplomat, to pilot an helicopter, to write a book, to manage a factory, to set a computer network. And now I am sufficiently learned and practiced in all of these skills."

The door slid open in the passengers cabin of the helicopter, as Francisco slid open the pilot cabin as well, and awaited for them to get onboard. It would be an interesting trip, and he hoped that he could still remember the commands, realizing it has been ten years since the last time he piloted one of these. But he was confident of his capabilities, and he knew that such travel would not end in a disaster. It was not something he considered possible, for he was a responsible man, aware that aircrafts were statistically safer than cars after all. His air of confidence could be a nice way to not let them realize he was not a professional pilot, and learned mostly by practice. He knew what he was doing, and it would be well done, as he thought for only one time:

I won't bring a chopper down again this time

(OOC: Sorry for the delay!)

So far, Stinson had been enjoying his time in Third Spanish States, and he wondered what else this nation had in store for him and his wife to view. So far, he liked what he had seen.

"I believe that the TdC Arcology might be the most interesting one. The Biosphere IV lies there, inhabited by genetically modified animals and plants that have been successfully integrated into it, as does one of the greatest Fallout shelters of the Confederacy. However, compared to the Sky Garden, they are not beautiful sights, only exotic." he said, trying to cope with some thoughts at the same time. Then he took a pocket computer, and began to type something over it.

"I would like to see the TdC Arcology, personally. What you do think, Addy?" After waiting for a response from his wife, Stinson then continued. "What sort of genetically modified plants and animals do they have there, Francisco?"

Perhaps there was another way, and finally he smiled to the couple, although it was a reaction to what he saw rather than to themselves as a gesture of politeness. The Spaceframe airport buildings would soon be ignored by his eyes, as looking at both, he then explained, uncautiously letting some of his personal pride to interfere:

"President Andrew and Adelaide, I have good news: it's fortunate that my private helicopter lies in the helibay of this airport, I will take you to the Tienda del Coche arcology right now. As for Cecily Lockhelm, she is just a direct representative, and far from being the exclusive representative of our people. Although she might arrive. She is too busy with the war matters to get into some courtesy, I am afraid."

President Stinson decided not to correct Francisco's mistake on his name, instead preferring to listen to what the man was saying. "Lead on Francisco. I think that my wife and I would agree that we would enjoy seeing the arcology. And I would also enjoy seeing your helicopter, if you should wish to show it to us."

And thus, he walked through the pavement next to the tarmac, ignoring completely the customs area as he led both to the outskirts of the airport, past many logistics depots, fully automated, where unmanned lifters came in and out bringing luggage and commercial cargo, with few if any workers around. The silhouette of a small thing ahead began to became clearer as he stepped through the few dozens of meters towards it.

"A good old Eurocopter" Francisco then said, continuing to walk. "With self-service snack service. Once we arrive in the Arcology, we'll check some restaurants."

OOC: Ecureuil, EC 130, Bo 105, or EC 135?

IC: "I'm sure that your helicopter will serve all of our needs, Francisco. It looks like it could be a Ecureuil, EC 130, Bo 105, or an EC 135. All of them seem to be a good choice.

Realizing that they would find it strange that the same man who presented them would also be the pilot, Francisco then smiled, and explained:

"Don't worry about the lack of a specific pilot. Like a man once said, specialization is for insects, and da Vinci was one of the greatest men of human history. I wanted to be a diplomat, to pilot an helicopter, to write a book, to manage a factory, to set a computer network. And now I am sufficiently learned and practiced in all of these skills."

The door slid open in the passengers cabin of the helicopter, as Francisco slid open the pilot cabin as well, and awaited for them to get onboard. It would be an interesting trip, and he hoped that he could still remember the commands, realizing it has been ten years since the last time he piloted one of these. But he was confident of his capabilities, and he knew that such travel would not end in a disaster. It was not something he considered possible, for he was a responsible man, aware that aircraft were statistically safer than cars after all. His air of confidence could be a nice way to not let them realize he was not a professional pilot, and learned mostly by practice. He knew what he was doing, and it would be well done, as he thought for only one time:

I won't bring a chopper down again this time

"I couldn't agree more with da Vinci on that point, Francisco. I served in the Lamonian Army before I became a politician. I was part of the 5th Artillery division. I was the loader for a field artillery gun. Things were so much simpler then, as I can attest; but not all that has happened since then has been bad." Stinson placed a hand on his wife's shoulder as he talked about the good that had happened in his life. Adelaide was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life.

"I would like to see the TdC Arcology, personally. What you do think, Addy?" After waiting for a response from his wife, Stinson then continued. "What sort of genetically modified plants and animals do they have there, Francisco?"

Adelaide had approached the Third Spanish States with a deep interest since the nation's way of life and system of political organization had caught her attention as being radical. She had always known about similar experiments in the Ixanian Empire, with communes and all, but those were either mere individual communes or mass science fiction fictions that you would find in books and movies. Adelaide, who had long been an absolute monarchist, was not going to let this generate any prejudice, though, since she came to this nation with a clear and open mind. Indeed, all that she had seen and heard so far sounded, well, interesting.

"....The Arcology sounds like somewhere I would like to see, Andrew."



President Stinson decided not to correct Francisco's mistake on his name, instead preferring to listen to what the man was saying. "Lead on Francisco. I think that my wife and I would agree that we would enjoy seeing the arcology. And I would also enjoy seeing your helicopter, if you should wish to show it to us."

".....I do agree with that."

"I couldn't agree more with da Vinci on that point, Francisco. I served in the Lamonian Army before I became a politician. I was part of the 5th Artillery division. I was the loader for a field artillery gun. Things were so much simpler then, as I can attest; but not all that has happened since then has been bad." Stinson placed a hand on his wife's shoulder as he talked about the good that had happened in his life. Adelaide was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life.

Adelaide smiled. ".....Andrew often tells me stories about his life in the Lamonian Army; I myself, though, never served in the Armed Forces but I did volunteer work and ran in marathons which, I believe, have done me well as my husband can attest. Being the First Lady of Lamoni is a pretty good job; I do work, though, since I am also my husband's secretary."

Adelaide grinned, just a little, at that statement.