Monroe

Chapter Two Hundred and Forty-Six. Cultural differences.

Bob smiled as he summoned out Jake, sending the UtahRaptor into battle.

The vacation had been nice, but the truth was that after a couple of days off, he started to feel anxious. He liked the free time, he needed to work. There was probably something unhealthy there.

Best not to dwell. He stretched, his mind only half occupied with Jake's battle. After limbering up, he strapped on his ankle weights. He'd slacked off for a week, and now it was time to put in the work.

Kellan shook his head. "You may as well leave them here," he stated firmly, "they're a drain on your resources, dead weight that ought to be shed so your society can grow stronger."

"They are people, your Majesty, and we can't simply leave them behind to die," The President replied.

"As I understand, you have programs in place for these people to obtain work and shelter?" Kellan asked.

"We do," Elania agreed, "although many of them are suffering from an addiction that has consumed their lives, one that is very difficult to recover from."

Kellan snorted and shook his head. "Stars and stones, you people are weak. I'm certain that at some point, you sampled one of these illicit substances, yet here you are, the head of the executive branch of your government."

"I appreciate your advice, however, on this issue, we'll have to agree to disagree. We won't abandon any of our citizens, from the most wealthy and powerful to the most downtrodden and weak," Elania said firmly.

"You'll need to harden your heart if you wish to remain in power," Kellan warned. "I can see that you've begun to advance, but you're moving too slowly. When you return to Earth, you'll find that your world will require a strong hand to tame."

He watched as the human across the table nodded reluctantly. The degree of control these mere tier five humans had over their expressions was remarkable. His own court were amateurs by comparison, and they were nearly all tier seven.

"The Queen of England has embraced that truth," he continued, "and she is nearly ready to reincarnate as a tier six species."

The Presidents expression didn't change, and Kellan smiled. He loved to play, and she was quite skilled at the game. He was a master, though, and he knew that her people on Greenwold had already reported that back up the chain of command.

"You would do well to follow in her footsteps," he said.

"I can only advance so far ahead," Elania replied, "for several reasons, chief amongst them is that I appear before the public regularly, and my increased Endurance has already rolled back the clock far enough that various tabloids are reporting that I've had cosmetic surgery and started dying my hair, which must mean that I'm having an affair."

"A bit of fleshcraft can set that to rights," Kellan chuckled, "there are half a dozen stylists in Harbordeep who, for a mere three hundred crystals, would be happy to aid you. Making you appear older isn't nearly as difficult as some of the requests they regularly receive."

He noted her shudder at the mention of fleshcraft and shook his head. This was one of the more interesting aspects of interacting with a society so completely foreign. His speech was perfectly accurate, but he had little, if any, knowledge of their culture. Why would fleshcraft trigger a negative response? It was fascinating.

"I wasn't aware of that option," The President replied evenly.

"I'm fond of the ideas your country has espoused," Kellan gestured around the room, which held paintings depicting moments from the United States history. "Rugged individualism, success by virtue of your hard work and natural ability," he shook his head and smiled. "I'm aware that a degree of hereditary corruption has wormed its way into power, but the ideas, those are still solid. If you want to remain in power, you'll need to deny those people the chance to become powerful enough to challenge you."

"As you know," he could hear the strain in her voice, "our government is constructed on the principle of checks and balances as a method of ensuring that I am not able to become a dictator."

"A noble idea, but one that crumbles in the face of individual power," Kellan replied. "Do you have any doubt that should I wish, I could assume control of your entire planet in a single night?" He paused. "Nominal control, given the sheer number of humans, it would likely take a week to have true control."

"I'd like to think you wouldn't do that," The President's reply was even, but Kellan could see the slightest of tremors in her hands.

"I'm rather unlikely to do so," Kellan agreed, "however the fact remains that I could. While none of your people will be able to challenge my power for centuries," he grinned, allowing a bit of his draconic nature to emerge, noting with satisfaction the manner in which Elania flinched, "centuries that I assure you I will not have spent idly, your people will be in a race against each other. They will strive for power, and it's foolish to hope that they will all have accepted Vi'Radia's guidance. Without Vi'Radia's purifying light, the shadow will grow within them, feeding on small wickedness and sins, until they embrace their darker natures." He shook his head. "You'll need to be strong enough to put them down before they cause too much harm. If I had to point out a single flaw in your society, one that will doom you if not excised, it would be your insistence on imprisoning your worst criminals rather than killing them."

"An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind," Elania said.

"Mercy for the guilty is treason to the innocent," Kellan replied.

Mike wasn't sure how he felt.

Well, he was certain that he wasn't particularly happy to be back on Earth. He'd grown accustomed to Thayland, gotten used to his skills and spells, and being cut off from the ability to use them at will was disconcerting. Some of the Old Guard who had come back after a prolonged stay on Thayland had likened it to the ache of a phantom limb, an experience they were all too familiar with.

His confusion stemmed from the reason for his return. His ex-wife had died. He hadn't seen her for almost a decade, and he'd been surprised when he'd received the notification.

Were it not for a small group of fobbits, he might have never known. That group had taken it upon themselves to setup their own little bureaucracy, offering to handle your affairs on Earth for the very reasonable price of one mana crystal per day. They would screen your mail, both paper and digital, bringing anything urgent to your immediate attention. Mike, like many others, had seen the little parasites' scheme as the necessary evil it was.

Which was why he found himself standing in the rain on an incongruously warm day, watching his ex-wife's coffin being lowered into the ground. She'd never even told him that she had cancer. Her brother and sister had remained cordial after the divorce, and they'd told him that she'd been diagnosed with stage four lung cancer a few months ago. They'd tried chemo, but it had metastasized already, and the treatment hadn't been successful.

He knew that he shouldn't feel guilty. She was the one who had been unfaithful, and she was the one who had demanded a divorce. It was her choice to cut off all contact. He tried very hard to ignore the little voice in his head that said if he'd known, he could have done something.

He'd gotten a few questioning looks. He hadn't met Carrie until after he'd gotten out of the service, by which time he'd developed the habit of running an electric razor over his face every other day and had developed a bit of pudge, which had grown into a legitimate spare tire over the years. Now he looked twenty, clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and in the best shape of his life.

Mike fought back the tears as her coffin came to rest in the grave. Despite everything, he'd still loved her. When you gave part of your heart away, you never really got it back. He'd been so focused on getting his men healed and then the other veterans who were suffering that he'd lost track of Earth.

He'd failed to check up on her. That weight was on him. He'd ask the fobbits to offer a service checking on immediate family members, then he'd recommend, heavily, that everyone take advantage of it. What were a few mana crystals when compared to the regret of losing a loved one you could have saved?

Nora smiled as she skipped towards the Tavern in Glacier Valley. The vacation had been amazing, in no small part because she'd been treated as an equal. Also, after watching Jessica try and fail to attract Bob's attention, she realized that it wasn't her; it was him. Something had clearly broken Bob, and it would take time and patience to fix him.

The downside of the vacation had been the heat. It was so hot and so dry, and the sun shone all the time.

It was nice to be back home, where there were overcast days, the temperature was more reasonable, and the air didn't try to turn you into a piece of jerky.

"Ms. Wallenstair?" a voice called out from the Tavern as she entered.

She looked over to see a man consulting a tablet and then peering at her. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, wearing a uniform that was unfamiliar to her.

"I'm Nora Wallenstair," she said as she walked over to him. Upon closer inspection, he was ruggedly handsome, with dark brown hair and tanned skin, complimenting warm chocolate eyes.

"Ivan Gregorovitch Kalsonovik," he introduced himself with a smile, carefully shaking her small hand with his own massive paw. "I understand that I'll be delivering the tax and lease to you?"

"Are you building Dungeons in Glacier Valley?" She asked uncertainly. "I thought it was full?"

"No," he shook his head, "while our American friends have been true comrades in this endeavor, providing us with access to their Dungeons and the knowledge to create our own, we must do exactly that. We are building our Dungeons in a valley twenty or so kilometers to the south. The location is not as good as this, but it's nothing we can't handle."

"In that case, you'll be turning over the crystals to Bob," Nora replied, then frowned. "I should probably warn you that he's quite busy."

"Da," Ivan replied with a smile, "I have done this last month, however, we intend to maintain a presence here, and we've been told that you'll be the Noble responsible for collecting the tax and lease from our fledgling city." He produced a sealed document bearing the crest of the Seneschal of the King's court and handed it to her.

Nora could feel the magic radiating from the seal. As the daughter of a Noble house, she'd been taught the magical signature of both the King and the Seneschal. She would have learned the signatures of the other Noble houses had she accepted her family's path.

She broke the seal and read the document, which was short and to the point. She was instructed to take responsibility for the newly founded city of Orluk due to its proximity to Glacier Valley and the fact that Glacier Valley still held less than a hundred civilians.

Nora closed the parchment and looked up at Ivan, who was smiling down at her amiably. "I guess I should go see the people I'm now responsible for protecting," she said.

"I have a helicopter waiting to take us," Ivan gestured for her to follow as he strode out of the Tavern.

"That's everyone confirmed," Dave sighed as he closed his laptop.

"Everyone who reserved," Amanda replied with a sigh of her own.

"I'm going to say fifty percent," Dave stood up and rolled his neck before reaching down to help Amanda up from the cozy nest of pillows they'd been curled up in. "You want the over or the under?"

"I think I'll take the over," Amanda shook her head. "We were at forty percent over last time, and twenty-five percent the time before, so if the trend continues..."

"Maybe I'll take sixty," Dave muttered as he pulled her into a hug.

"Nope, you called it," her voice was muffled as she buried her head into his shirt.

"Think we can get Bob to help with the onboarding?" she asked, raising her head to look up at him.

"Maybe," Dave said thoughtfully. "The schedules line up, he should be taking another week off, starting that weekend, so we might be able to convince him."

"Did he tell you where he wants to go on vacation next month?" Amanda asked, "I didn't get a chance to find out, but I think we all had a really great time."

"Hawaii," Dave grinned as Amanda's eyes brightened.

"We have to go," she said enthusiastically, "we haven't been in ages."

"It has been a few years," Dave agreed, his smile widening. "I can just picture Bob on a surfboard with Monroe perched at the front, catching a twenty-foot wave and riding it in."

"Bob's going to go surfing?" Amanda asked.

"And sailing," Dave confirmed, "he was interested in parasailing too."

"It's nice to see him take an interest in something other than working," Amanda murmured as she opened her laptop back up.

"He hasn't said exactly why he's pushing so hard to hit tier seven," Dave began, sitting back down across from Amanda, "but given what we know about Bob, I have to wonder if maybe we shouldn't push a bit as well. At least to tier six."

Amanda looked up from her laptop, her face pensive. "I tried to pin him down on specifics about why, but he was evasive," she mused. "The impression I received was that he was pushing for personal reasons."

"I'm sure that's part of it," Dave agreed, "but I'm not sure that's the whole story. We all know Bob has some sort of edge. What if something is going to happen when Earth gets integrated?"

Amanda frowned. "I think he'd tell us if something bad was coming down the pipe," she shook her head, "after all, he's already told us the world is ending; why would he hold back anything else?"

"What if what's coming isn't necessarily cataclysmic, but something he's worried will make people come after him?" Dave said slowly.

"Something the people of Thayland might come after him for," Amanda suggested thoughtfully. "He's already convinced that he's going to get blamed for what's going to happen to Earth, so it has to be something that will impact Thayland."

Dave nodded slowly. "I think we should start stockpiling the crystals we need to push through to tier six, maybe spread the word to the core group to do the same. We can try and pin Bob down for some answers, but until then, I think we follow his example. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean there isn't an invisible demon about to eat your face."