Changeling Part 115: The Big People League (Patreon)

Nestra watched the customs people fiddle with their systems with some measure of amusement. The check should have been a mere formality. In fact, it should have been entirely avoided. Mayor Kim leaned over the counter.

“Is there some sort of problem?” he asked in a very affable voice that made the glorified doormen pale.

“That is, you have a sanctioned individual with you. Our orders are to detain anyone considered, ah…”

Nestra smoothed her elegant suit. She was in human mask right, now so she felt much more comfortable when dozens of eyeballs turned her way.

“A terrorist.”

She manifested a boba cup from her personal dimension. Unfortunately, the cup was almost empty but the collective annoyance when her straw noisily slurped air in the uncomfortable silence made it all worth it.

“Enough of this,” a woman in a dark suit said as she emerged from a side door. “Open the gate, I’ll handle it.”

“Yes sir,” the immensely relieved grunts replied once they realized this was no longer their problem.

“Follow me, please,” she ‘suggested’.

Without waiting for an answer, she strode through the now opened security gates and into the depression gray of Newark airport proper. The woman was a dark-skinned exec of some sort with the kind of discrete augs that cost as much as the average car. Government exec though. With confidence, she channeled the Threshold delegation through a series of empty corridors leading to a line of limos outside of the terminal. They’d returned to the tarmac, Nestra realized. Suited goons quickly assigned each member their own spot in the motorcade. The lead and last cars were high-tech troop transports brimming with ECM spikes and a rapid-fire cannon that could probably shred a gunship. Nestra checked for drones and found three. It looked like the locals really didn’t want anything untoward to happen. That was good news.

“Apologies for the delay. The situation is unusual,” the agent said after Nestra was shoveled in the lead car alongside Shinran and Kim.

She was a bit surprised, but then realized if there were three people who absolutely had to survive an unexpected missile strike, it would be them.

“Can you move back a bit?” Nestra asked Shinran.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” The robed clown deadpanned. 

“Har har.”

They shuffled around. Shinran kept his staff which the limo was not designed to accommodate — and why was that with all the gleams flying around? In Threshold, hover cars even came with weapon racks. Nestra repressed a tinge of annoyance. This was her day. Nothing was going to ruin it.

“I must warn you in advance that weapons are not allowed on premise,” the agent said, eyeing Shinran’s ridiculous stick.

“Would you deprive an old man of his support?” the obnoxious nerd replied.

“Mr. Shinran…”

“Oh she’s saying Mr. now. You’re up the creek mate,” Nestra drawled in her best Threshy accent.

“Children please,” Mayor Kim interrupted, though he was smiling.

Nestra knew he wasn’t being serious. Everything about today had been meticulously planned to the most anal detail of scheduling. There was no need to last second cram, not to mention all the cars had to be bugged like an old mattress. The only proper use of their time was to either banter or drink boba, and Nestra was out of boba. Also it would make her want to go to the lavatories.

“No, Shinran is too dangerous with a staff,” Nestra said, pointing at Threshold’s strategic asset. “Imagine what he could do if he kept it.”

“It is, of course, highly symbolic,” the agent interrupted. “Similarly, I am to understand you have some sort of dimensional storage with you? You will probably asked to remove any weapon you might have.”

“Errr.”

Both Kim and Shinran zeroed on Nestra which was patently unfair and a betrayal of the highest order.

“Yes, young Palladian. Surely you’re not carrying any weapon in there,” Shinran said.

“Well.”

“You’ll be asked to remove them,” the agent gently insisted.

Oh Nestra was going to get revenge for that. Oh yes.

“Fine,” she said with the most innocent smile she could conjure. “I’ll surrender them.”

Suspicious glares were her only answer.

“What! I’m serious. I will surrender my weapons. Don’t worry about it.”

It wouldn’t matter anyway. There was enough gleam firepower around to obliterate New York City just in this specific convoy, so weapons were a worthy, temporary sacrifice to get the last word. And Nestra liked getting the last word. Instead of bickering, she looked outside while Kim engaged in a conversation with the agent, whose name happened to be Mariah. Nestra wasn’t sure but it seemed like the old fox’s charm still worked well. The motorcade was crossing Manhattan at good speed while armored cars and troops made sure they were clear of the city’s infamous traffic. A row of flags soon announced their destination. The UN headquarters was an ancient domino in pre-century style, as unassuming as it could get on a background of Incursion-defying skyscrapers. A distant sea wall would do little to protect the shore from a Kaiju. Nestra shook her head, reminding herself again to stop checking all the cities she visited for defenses. Claire had scolded her enough.

The motorcade dropped Threshold’s delegation on the steps of the solemn building despite the security risk. Nestra realized why soon enough: photo op with Secretary Mwende, a swarthy Kenyan exile from the Nairobi enclave. Nestra counted the number of people of her delegation out of habit in case someone had gotten nabbed but no, everyone was here. She was just being paranoid. Mayor Kim cordially shook hands with the American president next. Aran Michaels struck a reasonably attractive figure — according’ to Nestra’s hesitant standards anyway — with a shock of black hair graying at the temples. He didn’t look super pleased though, as expected of a sandal having to negotiate with the mosquito. After a minute of efficient photo taking, Nestra herself was paraded to the front in her human form. Dozens of drones and professional photographers immortalized her nicely done makeup for posterity. Honestly if her old MaxSec self could see her now, she’d be mortified. 

***

The agent didn’t pull out with the motorcade. Instead, she walked to a nearby OP center dedicated to making sure this radioactive powder keg didn’t receive any undue sparks.

“How are we failing to beat those people?” was her first thought while her eyes automatically scanned the entrance for the coffee machine, but then she shook her head. 

Shinran and the Palladian young woman were no politicians. They were warriors, the best A-class alive and an alien he was supposed to hate. When was the last time Vanquisher raiders had exchanged more than courteous greetings with civilian authorities? And here the Thresholders were quipping. 

They were a hive of contentious wasps, and someone had knocked on the nest. They had fully united just to make half of the planet miserable.

She hoped today’s discussions would be fruitful, and that no one would drop a bomb on the building.

***

“Please surrender your weapons, they will be returned upon your departure,” the obese guard told Shinran with placid confidence.

He was an old baseline, a comfortable sixty with no hair on his scalp and a face like he’d been through the end of the world only to realize the IRS still collected. Shinran politely handed his silly stick which the man’s muscular assistant tagged and dropped in a prepared crate. There were several crates pushed against the wall of the foyer, so this must be a rather common occurrence. 

“You too, Miss Palladian. We are aware you have a dimensional pocket.”

“Are you sure?” Nestra asked.

“Please,” the man replied in a tired voice that actually said ‘get on with it’.

“Oh alright.”

Shinran paled when he realized what was going to happen.

“Nestra!”

But it was too late. Nestra manifested her Window Maker, then then ammo for the Window Maker, then her shotgun and its shells, her sniper rifle (a replacement for the one she’d left during the slave camp raid), five cases of sniper ammo (three armor piercing), the golden sword she’d received from the fae, her previous human sword which was still pretty good, her emotional support knife, a concealed knife, her heavenly emotional support knife, a heavenly police truncheon, a massive wood club she sometimes used to spar with Grook, the sword she used in heavenly form, and a drone ECM gun she’d never had the opportunity to fire. By the muscular guard was looking at the pile with intense regret while the old baseline had the most disappointed dad face she’d ever beheld. She gently tossed Nettle on the ground behind them since the blade would peel the skin off anyone trying to wield it — the blade sank in the concrete, spreading corroding tendrils before settling with a vaguely annoyed hiss. 

“Better leave it there,” she strongly advised.

Finally, she deployed a brand new deactivated naval cannon. The point defense system occupied a good third of the security room. Its gun waited despondently while a belt of red-tipped ammunition emerged from one of the ports.

“Tell me this isn’t live,” the guard ordered.

“It’s unplugged,” Nestra assured him.

Although it was fully operational otherwise.

By then the rest of the delegation was suitably annoyed. Nestra didn’t care. This had taken all of fifteen seconds and they had it coming. Now fully disarmed except for the entirety of herself, Nestra followed the delegation to the General Assembly room. The majestic amphitheater welcomed her in all its past glory, the enduring symbol of the United Nations on display at the end. Nestra had thought the organization to be a remnant of the past, but Mayor Kim had explained its purpose was to allow nations to talk and cooperate within a structure, and that was extremely valuable in itself. Nestra was trying to get the Aszhii and humans to talk so she appreciated a one-stop solution, for sure.

It took some more time before all the delegates could arrive. Nestra ignored her visor, instead inspecting the flags displayed on the side walls over the visitor seats where she’d been asked to stay. Those belonged to defunct nations that had fallen during the years directly following the Incursion as the few survivors of the monster hordes fled to what would become fortress cities. Nestra only remembered Namibia from her lesson even though she couldn’t recognize its flags. She sobered up. 

The road of exodus had left billions of corpses to be feasted upon over a decade of succeeding disasters. It had been a bit over sixty years ago, and the scars were now a permanent fixture of the human psyche.

For a moment, the memories of militia soldiers desperately fending off D-class monsters with ancient rifles or even spears while their families fled surged in her mind, memories of research done for class. A world gone mad. Entire towns slaughtered.

Her host species would get its time to grow. She would make sure of it. As the last delegates took their seats, Nestra turned her gaze towards Mayor Kim. He was in low discussion with President Michaels, possibly making preliminary official contact. It was important that those two would be seen talking, even though Michaels was probably pissing off the more warmongery portion of his voter base. A subtle pressure had her look up to two gray orbs staring at her from across the aisle, the other wing of visitor seats. She recognized the silvery hair and sharp anglo face of Cyrrhus, head of Vanquisher. He looked worried.

The lights dimmed. Mwende walked on the pulpit and made an opening statement reminding everyone of the importance of peace between humans in those turbulent times. Nestra found herself interested if only because those were high level politicians talking to other high level politicians. The speeches themselves were mostly for show with the important discussions happening behind closed doors, but there was still some effort dedicated to not sounding like a complete pleb. Mwende was good at it. Time to see if Kim would measure up. But while everyone shuffled around, a shape sat by her side.

Cyrrhus.

Mana shifted ever so slightly in the amphitheater. Cyrrhus must have moved at A-class speed. She noticed Shinran was not exactly where he’d been an instant before. Instead, he sat right behind Cyrrhus in a way that was not exactly subtle. Her C-class body only now realized every security detail in the room was in what she liked to call ‘edge of the precipice mode’.

With a pleasant smile, she turned to her guest.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” he whispered. “How’s our mutual friend?”

Ah, he was concerned about Cross.

“She’s taken issue with the way we prepare ribs,” Nestra replied, remembering that useless detail from her brief. “But she’s taken a liking to our pastries.”

“She does have a sweet tooth,” Cyrrhus idly commented. “And can be particular when it comes to ribs. I hope I can see her again very soon.”

“I hope so too,” Nestra genuinely replied.

The tension lowered, though Shinran didn’t move from his neck-snapping position. Nestra manifested one of her emergency cups.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Thank you, but I’m trying to limit my intake,” Cyrrhus replied.

A rather frank admission he was nervous. Michaels didn’t look amused by his subordinates’ antics, but Cyrrhus soon confessed he’d never actually been to Philly and Nestra was more than happy to suggest interesting spots. She did it in a non-provocative way. As non-provocative as Nestra could manage. No one screamed so she must have done a good job of it.

Her mind couldn’t quite get what was happening, but Kim was seemingly reading something from the situation and the conversation with Michaels grew more intense. Soon, the time allotted to a pause stopped. It was Kim’s turn to take the stage. The real show was starting. For months, the two sides had fought with accusations of provocations, greed, and disregard for their fellow men. This was the first time a public attempt at deescalation would occur.

“Mr. Secretary General, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen, good morning. It is my honor to address you today as the Head of State of the city of Threshold.”

His tone was slow and measured, more grim and confident than the usual smooth tone of a man whose main responsibility was to wrangle colossal egos. He was not here as a mediator, but as a statesman. 

“I come to you in a period of great turmoil. For the first time since the end of the second world war, we face the possibility of an international conflict, of alliances clashing on the field of battle and over the homes of our people, a fratricidal struggle, a human civil war. More importantly, it is not a fight for survival, or conviction, but one of greed and power.”

Kim paused again for a long time. There was some hostile reaction from delegates, and she could imagine why. It was difficult to hear about greed from a city that basically hoarded the ultimate, unlimited resource: portals. It didn’t matter to them that they had absolutely zero fucking rights to object — who the hell did they think they were? — at least according to Nestra’s slightly biased opinion.

“Despite the urgency of the situation, I cannot help but state the obvious. We now share more common interests than at any point of human history. Through the sacrifices of our fathers and mothers, we have risen from the brink, and carved a place in this new world of ours. It is not a finished battle. Every day, valiant defenders die to protect us, and it is in this world that we must forge a common future for the benefit of all. This is a path that must be worked on today, and not just by speeches, but by action.

“Threshold, which I represent today, has already taken the first concrete steps towards forging this new future with firm actions. In the past six months, we have invited over a dozen nations to observe and participate in the research of the permanent bridge world between our planet and the lizardmen one.”

Nestra heard someone hiss ‘shaytani’, which was one of the original terms for the lizardmen and did them no favor, really. Some of the delegates were old enough to have lost relatives to the invaders.

“A world we secured at a great cost of life. We have taken steps to share all our findings with nations all across the world in a coordinated response through the creation of the Bridge World Initiative. Threshold will live its values of inclusion and cooperation for the sake of humanity. We have proven our commitment to those values through actions with concrete, measurable results, and we will continue to do so for the foreseeable future. This is just the beginning. 

“This is our hand extended in friendship. Our answer to the criticisms of those who accused Threshold of unilateral decisions. Our commitment is clear, and now we ask for the other esteemed members of our community, to answer. 

“I am aware and mindful of the upheaval caused by the unveiling of the bridge world. When my people stepped foot on the new continent, they built a city in defiance of all its many dangers and challenges. It is their fortitude and will that allowed us to thrive today. It is their blood, shed with Riel, that laid the foundation we have built upon to control this new place, and please bear in mind that I did not use terms such as ‘tame’ or exploit’, no, as it would be beyond audacious. I did say ‘control’. The price we paid to survive there was born by generations of my compatriots. Our first duty is to our people, just like your first duty is to yours. I will not apologize for pursuing our own interests or for maintaining secrecy, not when it is one of the key component of safety in a technological and competitive world, no, but I have come to you with the solemn and deep belief that we stand to gain more from cooperation that for full control of a resource that can never be fully secured.”

Nestra noted a few careful glances aimed at President Michaels. Some even came from his allies.

“Our future cooperation must be a common decision, a united answer to the challenges of tomorrow. Roosevelt, whose vision it was to see us gathered here today, said and I quote: ‘The structure of world peace cannot be the work of one man, or one party, or one nation. It cannot be a peace of large nations, or of small nations. It must be a peace that rests on the cooperative effort of the whole world.’

“What was true, and what still holds for peace holds true now that our prosperity and future hangs in the balance. It is time for the United Nations to rise to the new challenge posed not just by ourselves, but the true implication of bridge worlds: the existence of non-portal sapient creatures.”

Nestra straightened up. That was her! A non-portal sapient creature!

“We can no longer reserve diplomacy for our fellow men and women, and fire to others. As we encounter more of those intelligent peers, we must decide what sort of mark we wish to leave upon the many worlds and what sort of legacy we want to leave to future generations: one of endless war and strife, or a future enlightened by the values that led to the creation of this very assembly: one where we, regardless of origin, can be united by what we share, rather than separated by our difference. In order to promote this vision of humanity as a force for cooperation and prosperity, I ask the assembly to accept the creation of the United Nation’s seventh principal organ: the Diplomatic corps.”

As if orchestrated, a thunder of applause greeted the proposal. Nestra hated to admit it but she was feeling relieved. No accident so far.

She tuned the speech out soon after. Mayor Kim defined pillars of the initiative, and otherwise shared Threshold’s vision of cooperative diplomacy. Instead, she looked around. President Michaels looked particularly grim but Cyrrhus by her side positively vibrated with excitement. He knew. 

The speech mercifully ended after half an hour. Normally the UN agenda was agreed upon two months in advance according to Nestra’s briefing. Since this was an emergency session, Mayor Kim had accepted to be followed by a representative who would be naturally tasked to torpedo what he had suggested so far. It was a concession to allow the assembly to function just as the Americans allowing her to walk around without manacles was a concession to stability.

It probably helped that Mayor Kim had threatened to convene the assembly in Zurich.

To her surprise though, the next person to speak was from the Middle East, not someone she had expected to support the opposing side. From Mayor Kim’s minute smile, Nestra gathered it made no difference and the trap was about to close. In fact, more than a few delegates had the empty gaze she associated with people reading from an implant. By now, most delegates would be desperately trying to find out why the fuck the leader of a nation on the verge of devastation could ask for someone to go talk to the lizards of all things.

Unaware of the trap he was walking into, the delegate moved on. Nestra felt sorry for him as he was an old baseline with liver spots, and his shoulders shook with agitation. Not all opposants to the measure would be motivated by cynicism. This one was clearly moved by memories, and he wouldn’t be the only one.

Nestra understood. She even empathized. It didn’t change that talking with the alien was immeasurably better than the alternative.

“I remember leaving my home when I was five,” the old man began before being even introduced.

The lights dimmed in a hurry. All sounds and whispers quieted, so unusually laden with emotion the voice that stopped them was. 

“My mother woke us up in the middle of the night. She argued with my father about going for our passports. My father insisted. He said passport and water were essentials and he turned out to be right. We lived in a peaceful neighbourhood. When the door of our electric garage lifted, the light of dawn showed the house opposite us had been broken into. There was a trail of blood going from the entrance towards the main road, and then to nearby wood. I remember, even as a child, realizing that no one could lose this much blood and live. I wasn’t terrified of death at that time. I was terrified because my parents were. I had never seen them so pale, so terrified. My world collapsed just as theirs did. My mother was killed two months later, not by the lizardmen, but by the monsters their assault unleashed when they broke our military.

“I remember it well.

“For those creatures, we were prey, not people. I know that Threshold negotiated with one of their tribes and I therefore know they can be made to submit when they are weak, and we are strong. But I have not forgotten. One cannot claim to work for the future of mankind and ask us to create diplomatic relationships with hostile species in the same breath. Those who do not see us as people do not deserve to be extended that right. You, who followed Riel, should know this better than most. Is this the world he sacrificed himself for? One where we lower ourselves in front of an enemy we have beaten back? Is this the future you believe he envisioned —”

“Do not speak for me.”

The assembly quieted. Interrupting a delegate was unthinkable, a terrible breach of etiquette, and yet when all eyes turned to the man now standing with his iconic cloak but sans the helmet, no one dared object.

The return of the king, Nestra thought. She smiled. She couldn’t help it.

“Is this… really you?” The old man whispered.

The flow was broken, as expected with the appearance of Incursion Jesus. Nestra secretly exulted in her achievement. It was so hard not to screech with delight or just generally show off, but of course this time she’d achieved history vids levels of wireness. With the assembly in shambles and the delegates walking uncertainly towards the massive form of Riel, Kim naturally used the opportunity to take over.

“Allow me to introduce the next member of our delegation, Malik Najm, also known as Riel.”

“But… that’s impossible…”

The assembly was in turmoil, but Nestra didn’t need to check her visor to know Riel had already been vetted, and with good cause: he had been moving around for the past two days getting officially recognized by veterans from across the globe. No one had made it public then because Riel had asked them not to, and because you didn’t say no to Riel.

He was Riel.

Now his social accounts had been resurrected with various video proofs and solemn recognition by a variety of important people. The internet was exploding. Nestra had triggered the nuclear bomb of all PR stunts. And that was just the beginning. After some shuffling, Riel was almost pushed to the pulpit by eager representatives. Michaels even managed a handshake and a photo, the cunning lad. Riel then stood, face revealed to all.

“Hello everyone. I think, by now, word will have spread of my return. I apologize if I speak slowly or I make mistakes. I haven’t spoken English in a very, very long time. My name is Malik Najm and I am Riel. Ah, but yes. First of all, some of you may still doubt I am who I say I am. For those who cannot trust the testimony of my friends, or my voice, you should believe this.”

Riel just stretched his hand. A portal opened behind him, showing the esplanade outside of the building and a very surprised security officer. His portals were not light blue and opaque but actual shortcuts in the fabric of the planet. Nestra always found that mesmerizing.

The portal closed, and another opened in its place showing distant snow-covered peaks and an icy forest. A frigid wind forced several people to step back. Then the portal opened on a large cedar overlooking a humble courtyard, currently empty, then the Taj Mahal with a group of terrified tourists, and then one of the gates of the forbidden city.

A fat man stood in front of it with the classic ‘Beijing bikini’ which meant his shirt was pulled over his rotund belly, the hem safely tucked under heavy moobs. The obese man gave the General Assembly a look of mild concern before inspecting the expiration date on the beer bottle in his tubby fingers. Riel wisely decided to stop the demonstration after that.

“Sorry. I guess I should have picked empty spots…”

He breathed hard. Nestra knew Threshold’s PR specialists had tried to coach him so he presented closer to the old Riel, the one who made improvised speeches, yet despite the awkwardness of the situation, there was something deeply genuine about the A-class’ humanity even she found touching.

“Ok. Next I will tell you, when I left, ah, when I teleported myself and the Shaytani leaders in a nearby world, I had a great many hopes it would make a difference. I was always praying that my sacrifice had been enough. Now I have returned. My wife died — may Allah cherish her soul — but my daughters are alive. I… have grandchildren.”

Fat tears dropped from the bearded man’s liquid eyes, dripping on his ruddy cheeks. A pang of emotion rang in Nestra’s chest.

I got you, mate. I got you back.

“Thank you. You made it. I have a home to return to. Thank you, thank you…”

The tall hero sobbed, wracked by the relief that the rest of mankind had kept fighting after his departure.

“I’m so relieved. Words fail me.”

Resounding applause welcomed the man’s open heart. Delegates clapped, or banged in their desks. It was a riot, a once-in-history experience shared here.

And it was all thanks to her! 

“I will just say this then. I know things have been hard. It has been hard for me as well, but together we are stronger. I will help now. From now on, no nation, or enclave, shall face a tide or kaiju alone. I will be there, and those who want to fight will come with me. This I swear.”

The applause doubled. Roars of approval joined from the visitor seats, then the entrance doors opened in violation of all protocols, and mighty gleams assigned to security joined the chorus. Most of them were first gens, Nestra realized. 

In the general euphoria, Riel was almost carried but in a stroke of genius, he reopened the portal towards the esplanade and the entire assembly spread out in the summer sun, happy as could be. Guards and employees formed a general messy circle around them in total violation of all safety rules and Nestra could already imagine the OP chief in the nearby building tearing every hair off their skull. It didn’t matter. This was a religious moment. No one would dare interrupt it.

“I’m sure you have questions but I still have one important thing to say. Besides agreeing with Mayor Kim on the importance of a human embassy, of course. Yes, one more thank you, the largest thank you, in fact, to the one who found me. You see, after I reached another world, I did try to return, but without coordinates, my spell just randomly sent me to various planets. After dozens of attempts, I gave up. I was tired, so tired. But one person found me. I am talking, of course, about Clytemnestra Palladian.”

Against all her Ashzii instincts, Nestra removed her mask in front of what might be hundreds of millions of spectators. She waved awkwardly. At least in her true form she was easy to spot being half again as tall as almost anyone else.

“She used her powers as an ‘Aszhii’ to teleport to me and bring me back. It is because of her that I am here with you today. My eternal thanks go to you, Nestra. Bless you.”

Nestra beamed under the collective approval. Yes, worship her. She did so well.

“And since I am sure I will get many questions over the coming weeks, I think I will let my friend Nestra say her piece.”

Time to make history. Nestra didn’t move while Cyrruhs himself wove a spell to allow her voice to reach.

The ‘appel du vide’ whispered treacherous thoughts in her ear.

Say G’day cunts. Come on, it would be so funny. Just once. Just say it. Who’s going to stop you?

“G’day everyone. I’m Nestra, an alien raised as a human by a loving family. I consider myself as one of you and I’m a citizen of Threshold. Just like my mayor said, it’s time for humans to join as one voice so you may discuss with other sapient species. It’s a dangerous many worlds out there and we need all the allies we can get. Creating a diplomatic corps is extremely urgent.”

“How urgent?” a voice asked from the crowd, to the chuckle of several people.

Nestra smiled. That made more than a few people flinch.

“Why, I believe we’re already late.”

She snapped her fingers and pointed to the empty spot where Riel’s portal had recently disappeared. Her mind barely had to form the barest hint of a portal before the task of opening it was overtaken from the other side by one much more adept than her. The blue portal formed to the dismay and alarm of the assembly, but the presence of three powerful A-class reined everyone in. 

It was funny because they would barely make a difference.

The portal stabilized. A dainty hand appeared, pushing the membrane apart. A delicate form with many wings superimposed in defiance of physics crossed, elfin features lit by a benevolent smile. Moon Dancer was the first, then Sorai and Karamahel walked in close behind and finally Grook and Blinky whose appearances were more alarming. 

“Hello,” Moon Dancer greeted in perfect English.

Her enchanting voice carried effortlessly over the entire block. 

“We come in peace at the request of the young one. It is nice to meet you all. We have heard much about humanity.”

Nestra stood tall. She’d done it. This mother of all timeouts would interrupt every war. She expected Kim and Michaels to sign a white peace within the next two hours thanks to her.

In the ensuing silence, Kim stepped forward to offer a handshake to a willing Moon Dancer. After all, they’d secretly met the previous day. Nestra smiled.

The aunties had landed.

There was no diplomat like Nestra.