Thafter waited as the massive Khem dignitary, Grohk, slid easily into the black limo with the small Khem flags attached to the front.
"Thank Revia," Thafter thought. There had been some concern over accomodating the considerable size of the Khem. Thankfully, "bigger is better" was the unofficial motto of Megatrine.
He followed Grohk's entourage into the limo, and called for the driver to leave. Flashing lights followed, as the security detail led the driver into the streets.
It was highly unfortunate that the Khem had been the first to arrive. He had wanted to greet all the dignitaries personally, but it was of the utmost importance that he personally greeted and escorted the Khem.
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"Al'Khem is going to be the biggest problem," he had told Silvercrone. "They are from the culture most unlike ours, and they are most likely to shrug off our olive branch for no discernable reason."
"Would they be so pompous..?" said Silvercrone.
Thafter shrugged. "No. That would imply they won't be agreeable for no reason other than they think they're better than us. In fact, should all the nations reject us, I would be most confident that Al' Khem would reject us on merit."
"What I'm saying is that if they do reject, we probably won't be able to discern what the problem is, and they aren't likely to come right out and tell us, even if we ask outright."
"I just assumed based on intelligence reports that they're arrogant."
"No, the intelligence reports aren't so harsh. You sure you didn't pick that up from TV?" Thafter grinned, and Silvercrone gave a wry smile.
"If you weren't my friend..." said Silvercrone and then laughed.
"But seriously," said Thafter, "they're no more arrogant than any other nation. They just take particular pleasure in showing it at every opportunity. We have to understand that going in and realize that in spite of how smug they may appear, they will judge our proposal on merit. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised that if they like it enough, they will immediately take credit for it. We have to be prepared to hold our tongues if we want their support."
"So you'll escort them yourself? Seems like an exercise in futility."
"While they will judge our proposal on merit, if we offend them, they will not hesitate to leave before we even get to a proposal."
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As they drove through the city towards the hotels, the conversation was cordial, if a little stiff. Thafter was sure to show great deference and respect to Grokh and the Khem, showering them with compliments and appreciation of their visit. But he managed to bring the conversation around to the high points of the city just as they passed by.
He couldn't tell - the Khem were notoriously hard to read - but he thought Grokh was impressed with the both the Gardens and
the Ziggurat. Or he had gas. It was probably gas.
Just before they reached the hotel, he handed each of the Scribes an agenda for the conference. He was careful to not show disrespect by handing anything directly to Grokh himself, and was equally careful, though it was difficult, to ignore the Mundaskawanen.
They were a little more unnerving than he thought they would be. They still weren't as downright scary as the Order Guard, but then again, he knew more about the Order Guard than was healthy.
As they stepped out of the limo on to the curb of the Minax, he breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't left yet, and that was the best result he could have hoped for.
The entourage were unloading the massive amount of luggage and Grokh giant-stepped his way into the hotel. Thafter handed them off to a hospitality expert and headed off to the conference room, wondering how he could feel so tired before 10 AM.
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Thafter felt better at noon. All the dignitaries had been successfully checked into their hotels: Al' Khem, Myroria and Bustos contingents in the Minax, Dalari, Bustos and Ozia in the Frostoria, only a block away. They were now being served middy in the Frostoria's extravagant ballroom.
While Megatrine's guests relaxed and ate rare Crystalisk and expensive Calochortus Max, Thafter and his group of liasons stayed at the Minax consolidating notes.
Thafter stood at the head of the room while the five liasons chattered among themselves. He gave them a moment. It had been, for all but one of them, the first opportunity to exercise the skills they had been learning for the past three years.
"Ok, people, let's go over what we've learned. As I've told you from day one, no amount of intelligence and news reports can take the place of hands-on experience." He took his seat and pointed to the Bustos liason. "What did you learn and what do we know that we didn't know already? Go."
"The Duke makes no secret of the fact he is eager to have something productive come out of this conference. Nothing surprising there, he's said as much on television. However, I believe we got the motivation wrong."
"How so?" asked Thafter.
"We thought that, having been practically weened for the position, the Duke would be in the same mold as any other monarch by a different name - a typical spoiled heir attempting to elevate the family name. He is not. He has strong motivations towards profit and there is insecurity there. He's looking to prove himself."
"Anything else?"
"He's obsessed with the Lycan assistant. He does a good job hiding it, but there's little doubt."
He pointed at the Myroria liason. "Myroria, go."
"Nothing unexpected. They are a little less on formalities than we expected, given their grand government structure. But Gilas Quarrovth is what he appears to be - shrewd and straightforward at the same time. His success at Cefnor has not changed him."
"Overconfident?" asked Thafter.
"Not sure yet, sir."
Thafter couldn't help himself, and went out of order to point to Videllia Norteq. She was older and gracious, but not pretentious in the least. She also was the only liason to have any ambassadorial experience.
"I'm eager to hear about the Ozians," said Thafter. Norteq did not hesitate.
"Honestly, sir, I'm not sure any amount of cultural and psychological study could have prepared me for actually meeting the Ozians. They are as informal and socially rude as any tribe you'd find in the South, yet they harbor no doubts of the power their nation holds. I got on well with them - they are not savages as they have been characterized in the press, but we already knew that. But they are True Believers, and there is no indication how they would respond to what they would consider our Gaean heresy."
"Interesting," said Thafter, scratching on his notepaper. "What else?"
"They have remarkable intelligence - they probably are the most informed about the Megatridimensional Order. However, in the few places where they are wrong, they are very wrong."
"For instance?"
"One of the assistants, as we were going into the hotel, asked if they would be treated to a military parade. I was confused, but it turns out they believe that our
Mocking Day parades are actual military exercises." The room erupted in laughter.
"Ok, settle down," said Thafter with only a wry smile. "It's amusing but let's not forget that these misconceptions can be harmful to our foreign goals." The laughter subsided. Back to Norteq, Thafter asked "Any indications on how they might take our proposal?"
"As we expected, no there is not. I would describe them as 'violently unpredictable.'"
Thafter nodded and pointed to the next liason. "Dalari?"
"Sir, as expected, they appear neutral and open."
"Nothing new?"
"Well, sir, they spent a significant amount of time talking to the press and crowds inside the terminal. In fact, they seemed a little annoyed that there was no official announcement made to the crowds. I believe they were also expecting a podium or something. I believe we underestimated the importance of the press to the Dalarians."
"How did they handle it?"
"Graciously. And I believe they understood when only a few of the press asked innocuous questions and our citizens stood there with eyes wide, mouths open. Kenuje Hareli commented through his translator that he felt a little like a zoo animal. I can understand why, and I said so, sir."
"Your goal being...?"
"Sir, delegates to the conference are very much in the dark and, for a limited time, we have more knowledge than they. My goal was to ease their concerns being unfamiliar with our culture."
"Well done." Thafter said. "Ok, Letonna, go."
"Grofft Belker is slick, charming and absolutely deadly. We definitely want Letonna as an ally rather than an enemy. Their hidden ruthlessness is breathtaking."
"Anything else?"
"When we walked through the terminal, we had quite the opposite of the "quieting" effect that Dalari had on the crowds. I believe it was due in part to the '3' pin Belker wore on his lapel."
"His rank in his Ministry, correct?"
"Yes, but I'm afraid the crowds took it as an insult and by the time I had hurried Belker to the door, the crowd was angrily booing. I am glad they were the last to arrive."
"Dammit. We should have prepared him or the general populace for that possibility. Dammit!" Thafter threw his pen down on the table. "Ok, what was the damage?"
"Confusion until I was able to explain. I apologized and implied it was a small segment of our population infatuated with '3.' Once said, he asked if it would be better to remove it, and I let him know in no uncertain terms that he was the guest here, and besides, he would mostly be out of the public eye the next two days."
"Ok, nice damage control, probably the best we could have done."
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As Thafter was grilling his liasons for information, Prime Minister Silvercrone was in the Frostoria ballroom introducing himself to each table of delegates as they dined. His goal was simple - introduce himself, welcome each delegate, and try to gauge their interest in economic alignment. Not so easy, but he was confident.
He approached the first table and smiled. "Good day, I am Prime Minister Silvercrone. Welcome!"