The Plant Pt. 06 - Ambassador

"Tsod, let me just say this right up front," she said calmly. "Everyone here is essential. Not just the scientists or the researchers. Everyone. These people you call non-essential -- many of them were homeless when we found them. Hopeless, rejected by society and their own families, living on the street with no hope, no future. Begging for a few pennies, a spare cigarette or some scraps of food. Weeping inside when so many walked by without so much as a word.

"When Margaret, the Facilitator, told me what the Gingravik wanted -- an end to hunger, disease, war and despair -- I was sold right off. You see, I know what it is to be rejected because I wasn't pretty enough, or curvy enough, or my boobs weren't big enough. Bernie loved me the way I was. He made me what I am today." She stood up and turned around so he could see her fully nude form.

"Look at me, Tsod. I am what many men would call a walking wet dream. I wasn't born like this. I was ugly, skinny and mousy. A plank of wood had more features than I did. My own mother told me I should develop my mind because I didn't have much of a body. But Bernie didn't care. He accepted me the way I was. And brought out the real me. The inner me.

"In the same way, a lot of these so-called 'non-essential' people were rejected by society because they didn't meet someone's arbitrary idea of 'essential' or 'necessary.' They had already lost everything when we found them. I simply applied what Margaret and Bernie said were the highest ideals of the Gingravik. And now, they are respected, productive, healthy and happy. And they make a pretty decent living as well.

"So no, I will NOT reject them or leave them hanging in the breeze when things get a little tough. I have already spoken to many of them and they have agreed to go where I go. I understand what you are saying, but I'll tell you the same thing I once told Margaret. If I can't take care of the people here in my charge, how can I possibly do the same for everyone else?" Tsod listened to her in silence, somewhat shocked at the passion in her voice. He slowly nodded his head.

"Once again, Your Majesty, I have underestimated you. Please accept my humble apology. You are right, of course. It is our desire to end all those things. So many talk about it, but you... You're living it. You're more Gingravik than most Gingravik I know. And it makes me... ashamed," he said, hanging his head. Theresa put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Tsod," she said. "You are thinking like a diplomat. Keep your eyes on the prize and your nose to the grindstone. One step at a time." He had read these cliches before but understood what she was trying to tell him. He nodded his head.

"I... understand, Your Majesty," he said.

"And please, when it's just us, call me Theresa, okay?"

"Yes, Your... er, Theresa," he said.

"Good. Now, everyone, get back to work," she said.

...

Marco Gutierrez, the Secretary-General of the United Nations, considered the nine people sitting in his private conference room, each of them staring at the table, absorbing what they just heard. He hoped they understood the implications of what he had revealed to them.

"Are you certain of all this, Mr. Secretary General?" one of the men at the table asked.

"Frankly, no, not completely," Marco said. "But my instincts tell me this is the real thing. And we'd be foolish not to capitalize on this opportunity." This wasn't the first time he relied on his gut instincts, and the others around the table knew that. In the past, however, his instincts turned out to be right.

"But what if this turns out to be a trap?" one of the three women at the table asked. "Are you willing to risk that? Risk all of our lives?"

"I doubt they would have allowed us to bring a security detail if that were the case. I'll go alone if need be," Marco said. "That way, I'll be the only one at risk. The decision is yours. All I ask is that you keep it to yourselves."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Johann, a veteran from South Africa, asked.

"I am," Marco said. "The possible opportunities are too great to pass up."

"Then I'll go with you. I'm not going to have you risk your own life by yourself," Johann said. Marco nodded his head.

"Thank you, Johann," he said. "That means a lot."

"I'll go, too," the first woman said.

"Thank you, Alena," Marco told her with a nod of his head.

"Does the White House know about this?" a third man with a thick British accent asked. Marco shook his head.

"No, Franklin, to my knowledge they know nothing of this. And to be honest, I think they would just mess it up anyway. I don't intend to say anything until I have to."

"Is this an effort to get one up on the administration?" the third woman, a blonde 28-year-old German named Greta, asked.

"No, Greta, it's not. But let's not kid ourselves. If this is half as big as I think it is, the last thing we want is the Americans taking point and keeping it all to themselves. Besides, these Gingravik reached out to US, not the Americans. It's clear they're seeking a global audience," Marco said.

"Good point, Mr. Secretary-General," Greta said.

"What happens if this turns out to be a hoax?" asked a large black man with a full head of gray hair.

"Then we do what we can to find the practical jokers. In the meantime, we say nothing. If anyone asks, we spent the weekend discussing global issues."

"Why us?" the man asked, running a large hand over his hair.

"Because, Philip, you are the best at what you do," Marco said. "And more importantly, you are my most trusted colleagues."

"Well, in that case, count me in," he said. Marco smiled.

"Thank you Philip. That means a great deal to me. As you all know, I could order you to accompany me. But I won't. This is your decision and yours alone. There will be no repercussions if you decide not to go. All I ask is that you keep quiet about this. So, who's with me?" As Marco watched, all nine of his guests raised their hands. Marco smiled and nodded his head.

"Thank you all," he said. "I've been told that the next contact will be on November 17^th. If and when I hear from this Ambassador Tsod, I'll be in touch. In the meantime, make sure your vaccinations are up to date. And remember, say nothing to no one. Tell your families you're going on a weekend retreat to discuss climate change and other issues and you'll be out of pocket. Any questions?" Not hearing any, he dismissed the group and went back to his office.

...

Sunday, October 24, 2021

April and Jake got off the plane and observed the flurry of activity around them. They had just spent two weeks celebrating their official union at New South Marsookia and were looking forward to settling back into their routine.

"There you are," they heard Theresa say from behind them. They turned and embraced her when she came up to them. "Let's get your things and get you back to your apartment." April grabbed her two small bags and they followed Theresa to the vehicle that would carry them to the apartment complex.

"What's going on? I've never seen so much activity on a Sunday before," April said when they settled into the vehicle.

"There's some major changes taking place," Theresa said. "Before I explain, though, tell me, did you two enjoy yourself on NSM?"

"Oh yes," April exclaimed, regaling Theresa with stories of their visit. "We had a blast."

"I'm glad to hear that," Theresa said. "Tell me, how would you like to live and work on NSM permanently?"

"Are you serious?" April asked, shocked.

"Yes, I am," Theresa said.

"That would be fantastic," April said. "When are we going?"

"If all goes well, within the next two or three weeks. There's a lot that has to be done first."

"Why the rush?" April asked. "Did something happen?"

"Something amazing is about to happen," Theresa said. "And no matter what, it will impact all of us. But I need to talk to you about something first."

"What's that?" April asked.

"Let's get to your apartment first," Theresa told her. They got to April's building and made their way to the apartment she shared with Jake. When they got inside, April put their bags on her bed and went into the kitchen to make some tea. She offered a cup to Theresa, who graciously accepted it and the three of them went into the living room.

"You remember a few months back when I said there could time a time when the facility would have to move out of the country?" Theresa asked. April remembered that conversation, which happened after she learned the truth of Jake's origin and the plants she had been researching.

"Yes, I remember," she said.

"That time is upon us," Theresa said. "By this time next month, a delegation from the United Nations led by the Secretary-General will have met with an ambassador from the Gingravik Empire. Following that meeting, the Gingravik Prefecture of Earth will be officially established." She paused long enough to open her purse and remove a small booklet with a gray cover. She handed it to April, who looked at the design on the cover.

"What's this?" April asked.

"Your new Imperial passport," Theresa said. "The Empire has already granted you and everyone else here dual citizenship in recognition of your work." April opened the book and saw her picture with two flag emblems, one U.S., and another flag she had never seen before. That one displayed a green circle set on a black field with two gray stripes, one above the circle and the other below it. Apparently, she thought, this was the flag of the Gingravik Empire.

"Do I lose my U.S. citizenship?" April asked. Theresa shook her head.

"No, not unless you renounce it, run for an imperial office or go to war against the U.S. But I don't ever see that happening. Still, there may be some in authority who might want to... question you about your work here. Personally, I would rather not see that happen."

"What if things don't work out as well as you say?" April asked.

"Then I will take full responsibility," Theresa said. "I alone am responsible for everyone in my care. That includes you, April. And your mate. Don't worry. The Empire will protect you, even if I am unable to." April understood what Theresa was saying, but she was still concerned.

"Do you think they'll come here looking for us?" she asked.

"It's quite possible," Theresa said. "I'm leaving nothing to chance. That's why we must move."

"I understand," April said quietly.

"Look on the bright side," Theresa said with a smile. "You'll get a chance to work with your old teacher again."

"Dr. Johnson?" April asked. Theresa nodded her head.

"Yes. He's the head administrator of the facility on NSM. And he's looking forward to seeing you again." It had been some time since he and his new mate, Lucinda, stopped by to see her and she was curious to know how he was doing. Now, it seemed she would have an opportunity to work with him again.

"I'd like to see him as well," she said. "So, what happens now?"

"Starting tomorrow, I'll need you to help pack up your lab and get it ready to move. And you'll need to start packing this place up as well. I don't intend to leave anything behind. At all," she said. "You can even take your car, or sell it if you wish. Let me know if you decide to sell it, so I can add it to the list." It had been so long since April had used her car, she was tempted to just sell it. Everything here was within walking distance, and all the vehicles she saw at NSM were electric.

"I haven't used it in so long, I'll probably just sell it," she said.

"Alright, then," Theresa said. "Tomorrow, start packing. I want to be cleared and gone by November 12." That was just a bit under three weeks away. April knew she had a lot to do.

...

Friday, November 12, 2021

The last 18 days went by fast. April and her team packed everything in their lab, then helped other teams pack up their equipment. Nothing was to be left behind -- not even a fingerprint. With Jake's help, she packed up their apartment and wiped it down as well. While Jake was unable to handle the larger items, he was quite helpful in packing their utensils and smaller things. Her car was sold and hauled away, along with all the others, the money deposited into her bank account.

The movers came to the apartment and stacked her boxes on a pallet containing a number of other boxes. Everything was gone and all the surfaces had been cleaned to remove any trace of human habitation. She took one last look at the apartment before closing the door. She would miss this place, but she looked forward to what lay ahead at New South Marsookia.

She and Jake rode the transport with a number of others to the airfield. For the first time, she noticed the aircrews and security personnel wearing the green, gray and black flag patches on their arms. They boarded their flight and said goodbye as they climbed into the sky. This is really happening, she thought to herself as they headed for the south Pacific.

...

Theresa, Bernie, Margaret, Ambassador Tsod and his team stood in the now empty space that used to be Theresa's office. Three security men in dark suits entered the office after knocking on the door. Theresa was pleased to see they all wore latex gloves to keep from leaving any fingerprints.

"The compound is secure, my queen," one of the security men said, his voice echoing off the bare walls. "Everyone has left and all the equipment is gone."

"Nothing has been left behind?" she asked.

"Nothing. Not even a scrap of paper."

"Good," she said. She was so proud of the hard work everyone had put into moving everything out. Looking around, she found herself already missing the place.

"The contractors are set to come in and remove the secure laboratory buildings starting tomorrow," Margaret said. Theresa nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Think we'll ever come back to this place?" Margaret asked.

"I don't know," Theresa said. "Maybe, one day."

"We should get going, Your Majesty," Tsod said.

"Yes, you're right. I have just one call to make," Theresa said. She pulled out her phone and dialed the security gate.

"Security, Johnson speaking," the man at the other end said when he answered.

"Mr. Johnson, this is Theresa Hemmings. We are preparing to leave the facility now. Contractors will here tomorrow to tear down and remove some of the buildings as we discussed. Will you be okay here by yourselves?"

"Yes, ma'am, we'll be just fine. Don't worry about a thing. We have it under control," Johnson said. "Safe journey."

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson. For everything. Please pass that on to the rest of your team," Theresa said.

"Will do," he said. They ended the call and Theresa turned to Tsod.

"Now we can go," she said.

...

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Marco Gutierrez sat at his desk, waiting for his private line to ring. It was 3:00 pm, Eastern time, and he hoped the ambassador was as punctual as he was. The second his digital clock read 3:15, the phone rang. He took a deep breath and answered.

"Marco Gutierrez," he said when he picked up the phone.

"Mr. Secretary-General, Ambassador Tsod here."

"Yes, Ambassador. My team and I are prepared to meet with you. How do you wish to proceed?"

"How many are on your team, Mr. Secretary-General?"

"Twelve, including a two-man security detail. I hope that is acceptable."

"Yes, it is," Tsod said. "Are they all assembled at the Secretariat Building?"

"Yes. In fact, they're waiting in my conference room with their luggage," Marco said.

"Even better," Tsod said. "At 4:00 pm your time, two limousines will arrive at the Secretariat building and will enter your secure underground parking area. The lead driver will identify himself as Mark Thompson. Those vehicles will transport your delegation to the Farmingdale Airport where you will board your flight. Mark will escort you to the aircraft.

"Your flight will last just over 22 hours, but you will have plenty of opportunity to rest once the craft reaches cruising altitude. You will also be fed and provided with refreshments along the way. You will be met by a security detachment once you reach your destination. That detachment will carry you and your delegation to my compound, where you will be allowed to stay.

"Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Secretary-General?"

"No, Ambassador. None," Marco said. "I look forward to meeting you."

"And I, you," Tsod said. "Safe journeys, Mr. Secretary-General." With that, they ended the call. Marco wondered how the limousines would get into the secure parking area. He went into the conference room and addressed his team.

"We've got just about 40 minutes to get to the secure parking area, so we'd better head out," he said. He motioned to the orderlies who stood by the carts that held their luggage. Taking the private elevator down, they entered the underground parking garage. They arrived just as two long limousines entered the area. Marco nodded and they all donned face masks.

The vehicles stopped and a tall man in a dark suit got out of the lead vehicle. He walked to Marco and extended his hand, which Marco accepted.

"Mark Thompson, IGC, Mr. Secretary-General. I'm here to escort you and your delegation to your flight, sir," the man said.

"Yes, of course," Marco said. The delegation split into two groups, with a security man accompanying each group. One group of six entered the first limousine and the others entered the second vehicle. With everyone inside, they headed for the airport.

They said nothing on the way to the airport and were somewhat shocked when they saw the aircraft Mark led them to. This was like no other chartered jet any of them had ever seen. When they got to the aircraft, two men approached the security detail and confiscated their weapons.

"Cooperate with them," Marco instructed. The security men were upset, but reluctantly placed their firearms in the lock-box one of the two men held. They climbed the stairs into the aircraft and settled into their seats, astonished at the luxury inside the aircraft.

"We will be here when you return, Mr. Secretary-General," Mark said once he ensured everyone was situated inside. He left before Marco could respond.

"Still think this is a hoax?" Marco whispered to Philip, who sat in the seat across the aisle from him.

"If it is, it's a damn expensive one," Philip said. "This is a Bombardier Global 7500 and looks like it's been modified. How much do you think one of these things cost?"

"Probably north of $50 million," Marco said.

"With this configuration, I'd say north of $80 million," Philip said.

"Not exactly chump change," Marco said.

"No, it's not," Philip said. "Wonder where we're going?"

"Tsod said our flight will last just over 22 hours, so there's no telling," Marco said.

"Hmm," Philip said.

"What do you mean, 'hmm'?" Marco asked.

"These planes have a range of 7,700 nautical miles. That's more than 8,800 miles or 14,000 kilometers. We could be going darn near anywhere," Philip said.

"Interesting," Marco said. Just then, the plane began to move and a voice boomed over the intercom. Marco looked at his watch -- 6:30 pm.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain, Trevor McDaniels. Welcome aboard IGC One, also known as 'The Queen's Own.' We're preparing to take off in just a couple of minutes, and I should advise you that Consortium regulations prohibit the use of face masks, so I ask that you remove your masks at your earliest convenience. Once we have reached cruising altitude, the crew will serve dinner and refreshments. Again, welcome aboard."

Marco and Philip looked at each other, their eyebrows raised. They shrugged their shoulders and removed their masks, as did the rest of the delegation.