“Konu, you never know. Better we take precautions,” as the Chief said.
We arrived at Oina’s District 11 half sober and half not. Our delegation couldn’t handle the drugs very well, especially the Chief. He had a rough night, so he asked me, “Konu, could you please introduce us? I can’t do this. Since yesterday, I’ve had this impossible headache. It’s killing me.” He didn’t sleep almost all night. His night of wine, drugs, and a couple of “companions” were continuing to have an effect on him in every respect.
Oina welcomed us briefly. I even didn’t have to speak as she told me later that she knows that the Amian army likes partying. We looked like teenagers looking for everything else other than collaboration, treaties, and all the boring paperwork. But for me, it was the first time I saw her in person. All the best photos and holograms didn’t give enough credit to her unique charm. Not physically, as everyone in the League is like a top model, but something that was just charming in her existence that spoke to me. Space-time is bent with every movement and sight she produces, I couldn’t stop watching her, and I realized that I must talk to her.
A cocktail party for the success of the meetings was held the night of our departure. I stalked her for about an hour. There was no way I’d go talk to her first. That never worked. Finally, she started noticing me.
At first, she told me that she thought that the situation was ridiculous, my use of such an old-school way of approaching a woman. She is the most powerful person on that continent and could humiliate me and throw me out in a total disgrace. She told me that she thought, How disgraceful an empire can be, if they would send just anyone to represent it, including a stalker.
After a while, she started to have doubts as she saw I was very self-confident. She started exchanging glances with me. She told me that she asked her assistant, “Is this guy stupid, or what?” Then, she asked who I was. Then, she kept looking at me as it started to be funny, and she thought that I wasn’t that bad after all. Finally, she gave me a polite smile, and that what I was waiting for to directly approach her.
I presented myself in an official way, not a single blink in my eyes, and it was done…
My phone is ringing. I’m pausing my writing for a moment to answer, “I hope everything is fine, Oina.”
“Yes, I was very busy. How are you?” she said
“Very stressed. Trying to write, but nothing is coming out good,” I replied
“Writing now, in these times, really?” she firmly asked.
I remained silent, and then she continued, “Can you make it?”
“I can make an apple pie.” I replied
“I wish you could,” she then said patiently. “Take a rest, sleep a little bit. It’s important.”
I took her advice, I slept three hours. I woke up in the early morning, went walking to the local market, bought some apples, butter, and flour. I had the rest at home. I baked an apple pie and hoped it would taste good. I didn’t want to try it; I just trusted my instinct on that one.
Suddenly I was busy, and I forgot my stress. Ironically, the Chief was right on this one.
Chapter 16
The Meeting
“The most powerful being in this world depends on his life to exist, that life could end suddenly in a split second.”
~ Oina
D ismar took me to the airport, I told him that I baked an apple pie for him. He looked at me bizarrely, but I convinced him to try it and let me know if it was any good. He was still suspicious, but he thanked me for thinking of him with my busy agenda. He wondered by baking an “apple pie” for him, if I may not be intending to return at all.
The Second Citizen was in first class, as is the normal mode of travel on public airlines when on a security mission. However, I was in economy, as I like traveling with normal people when I have the opportunity to do so.
They serve only crappy food here in economy. My meal consisted of a kind of butter with a small piece of bread, water in a small plastic container, mashed potatoes with a brown meat sauce on top which looked exactly like “The Thing,” and one piece of a vegetable on the side. There was also a kind of sweet yogurt as a dessert. This is all served with small, white, plastic spoons forks and knives.
What’s this? Is that some kind of a fruit? Yes it is!
Anyway, all this ends on your lap in turbulence. Bon appétit ! What a feast…
The man sitting next to me was fat, tall, sweaty, and very trampy. He wanted to start a conversation with me, Sure, why not, since this is maybe the last time I speak with a normal citizen.
“They are so slow. I asked for a beer an hour ago, and I’m still waiting,” he said. I’m drinking all sorts of alcohol that I mixed in one
