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Chapter 252: Exact Words

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The president led the now rather large group through the halls. Jazz wasn't incredibly familiar with the ceremonies associated with ambassadorial visits versus those for visits made by head of state versus whatever other procedures there were, but she was pretty sure several of them had been skipped over.

Then again, the president wasn't making a big deal out of how one member of the diplomatic team was a sewer monster, and another was a cat, so.

The 'staff' group (minus several of the wisps), meanwhile, was being shown to the residence that had been put aside for them, along with their luggage. They'd discussed the split before coming, exactly how and who and what. The Chef, Meg Mullach, and the wisps could do a lot with their time. Especially if they weren't watched closely.

One of the president's attendants was talking about the history of the building and the paintings and art on the wall. Jazz was paying attention, but in an idle way. Her real focus was on the reactions of the people around them.

Particularly the Extreme Ghostbreakers.

Ugh, that name. Definitely not a good place to start. But this was something they had to talk about. Especially if Freakshow was around.

"I see you've already replaced the GIW."

"Excuse me?" said the president. "What do you mean?"

"Your new government-approved ghost hunters. The Extreme Ghostbreakers."

"They're just advisors," said the president. "They aren't authorized to hunt anyone. It was a bit of a challenge to find competent ghost experts that weren't associated with the GIW."

"I see," said Jazz, "and the armor?"

"You're wearing swords, your highness," the president. "My secret service members are wearing guns. Your people can shoot lasers and fly. I hardly think armor is an issue, here."

Jazz frowned. 'Your people' wasn't… an incorrect description, but she couldn't help but feel like a miscommunication was occurring.

Well. They'd have plenty of time to clear things up. Probably. She looked at Sojourn, who was impassive. If he didn't think it would turn into a disaster… It was probably fine.

"I've arranged for a meal to be served," said the president. "From my correspondence with Prince Phantom, it is my understanding that you can eat?"

"And enjoy it, yes. I, personally, have always thought it valuable to sample the foods of the various lands I visit in my travels."

"Something we have in common, then!" said the president, smiling. A member of the White House staff on standby opened the door to a large formal dining room. Jazz stepped inside after Sojourn and—

"Aunt Alicia?" she said, surprised.

"Jazz? What are you doing here?"

"I'm—" Jazz gestured helplessly, "—part of the diplomatic party."

"For… Amity Park? You guys got back?" Alicia looked relieved.

Jazz hated to ruin it, but…

"No, for the ghosts," she said. "I'm, um." She looked at Sojourn for support, and in doing so, spotted Freakshow. Her eyes narrowed. Freakshow's own widened somewhat. "You."

"Ah-ha. Me?"

"Frederich Isaak Showenhower, I presume?" said Sojourn.

"Is something the matter?" asked the president. "Mr. Showenhower is one of my advisors."

"He has a history of enslaving our citizens through the use of artifacts. His most recent victim is a suitor of one of Prince Phantom's most trusted advisors."

So, Sydney and Dora were dating, then. Good for them!

"He even dared to attempt to control Prince Phantom himself – although Prince Phantom was swift to throw off his influence. Should you wish these talks to be free of the specter of mind control, I must demand that he be removed."

"He also tried to kill me," said Sam.

"He did what?" asked Pamela. "When?"

"A couple of times, actually. If Phantom wasn't able to fight him off, I'd be dead now."

They had taken precautions against being mind-controlled by Freakshow. Jazz was one of these precautions, along with the rest of the Amity delegation. Another was a special potion, made from Ghost Zone flowers, but the flowers were in short supply, and so were the potions. Ultimately, they'd either need to get rid of Freakshow somehow, neutralize his tools, or trust him.

The third one, obviously, wasn't a real option.

"That's quite the accusation, when every member of your group has the same ability. I simply level the playing field, as it were. And didn't you hear? The people who arrested me are corrupt and bigoted monsters. Almost inhuman."

"Not all of us can do that," pointed out Jazz. "It may have escaped your notice, but we're a mixed group."

"Yes, and how can we be so sure you aren't being influenced by one of your compatriots?"

"Aunt Alicia, do you still have the Specter Deflector mom gave you?"

"It's sitting back on my table in Spittoon."

Well, that wasn't exactly helpful. The president didn't seem to think so, either, considering the look he was shooting at Aunt Alicia.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps," said the president, "before we begin to discuss heavier matters, we might share how we know one another? Over this lovely meal? I'm sure we can refrain from mind controlling or possessing one another for at least that long."

"We must indeed make compromises for the greater good of our peoples," said Sojourn, sweeping down into a seat elegantly. Through the table.

Power move.

The other members of the group sat down as well.

"We do, of course, have a separate, cat-safe meal for… Miss Inky." The pause before addressing the cat was brief, but still detectible.

"Oh, it's fine," said Wes, his constant tone of incredulity still present, "she's already dead… and apparently wants to have all the food she couldn't when she was alive."

"Ah…"

"Like garlic and chocolate and stuff," clarified Wes. He did not mention that Amity Park had been on rations and therefore didn't really have a lot of chocolate. Sojourn had been over this with all of them. They couldn't say anything that would weaken their position.

Jazz shot one more glare at Freakshow before sitting down. Jazz knew what Sojourn was doing here. He was establishing their group as being gracious and willing to compromise and Freakshow as being an untrustworthy liar, someone not fit to listen to or take advice from.

Honestly, Jazz wanted to take Soul Shredder and stab it right through him. He hurt her brother. He deserved it.

Intrusive thoughts.

Or were they?

(Sam, judging by her grip on the steak knife, had similar ideas.)

"Well, of course, Aunt Alicia is my aunt, and Freakshow is someone who assaulted my brother."

"Your brother," repeated the president, taking his own seat. "The ghost prince."

"Danny's dead?" asked Alicia, who looked like she'd suffered several bouts of whiplash in the last five minutes. "How? When? Are your parents alright?"

"They're fine," said Jazz. "Really. And Danny's fine, too."

"Dead isn't fine."

"It's…" Jazz gestured broadly. "We've discovered that Danny is not our only sibling."

"What?"

"Family ties are traced differently there than here."

"So, the ghost prince's relation to you…?" asked the president, who had picked up a fork to twirl.

"We're siblings," said Jazz. "Along with others. But, again, Danny is fine. He's alive. Mom and Dad are alive."

"But your other siblings are…" said Aunt Alicia. "Dead."

"No," said Jazz. "Well, Prince Phantom is, but our other siblings are not."

"But they're ghosts?" asked one of the Extreme Ghostbreakers.

"Yes," said Mar, excitedly, apparently picking up curiosity much like how a shark could pick up blood in the water. "There are three broad categories of ghost, distinguished from one another by how that ghost came to be. There are the Dead, of course, but there are also the Deathless, those born as ghosts, and the Neverborn, whose point of origin is uncertain. Now, there can be overlap between Deathless and Neverborn, especially with children-by-theft, and with most such categories applied to nature by humans, there are fuzzy edges – similar to, for example, the distinctions between the kingdoms of life. Have you ever heard of euglena?"

"I… can't say I'm familiar with the word," said the president.

"It's a microscopic form of life – a type of single-celled organisms! They've been extensively studied by scientists – human scientists specifically. You see, they combine traits of both animal cells and plant cells. They're both heterotrophs and autotrophs. At the same time!"

"Are you a scientist?" asked the president, in the tone of someone attempting to be polite.

"It's kind of you to think so," said Mar, "but I'm more of an educator – or a communicator! Now, speaking of distinctions between different cell groups, such as eukaryotes and prokaryotes, different domains of life, we ghosts also have something similar. You can see it in the differences between the common blob and various shades and thralls and well-defined and sentient ghosts such as ourselves… I could go on for hours of course—"

This was when the meal was served.

(Mar went on for hours, anyway.)

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The Ghost Zone and Amity Park delegations settled into the accommodations at their temporary embassy.

"Great job, Mar," said Sojourn, patting her on the shoulder. One of Lie's paws emerged from her 'coat' and pushed his hand away.

"Really? You don't think I talked too much?"

"No, just the right amount. Now, he'll have time to decide who he wants advising him, and we can decide what to do about the advisors and what he's likely to know about ghosts at this point. Let's start with your aunt, Jasmine, since she's the one we know most about." As he spoke, Dmitri poked his tiny head over the edge of Sojourn's collar, clearly curious.

"Sure," said Jazz.

"And then I can recap the lecture of Freakshow," volunteered Sam.

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The president sighed. "That could have gone better," he said, mostly to himself, but partially to the small crowd behind him, so that they'd know he wasn't happy. He turned. "Did you know you were related to the Ghost Prince?"

"No," said Alicia. "I had no idea. It has to be the other side of the family, anyway. The Fentons were always involved in weird stuff. Occult stuff. Jack used to talk about witch-hunter ancestors – That's part of the reason I told Maddie not to marry him. If a guy is proud of having witch-hunters in his family tree, at the very least he has a screw or two loose."

"Alright," said the president. "Fine. Do you know your niece well enough to tell whether or not she's possessed? Or," he waved vaguely and Freakshow, "influenced, or what have you?"

"She seemed the same as usual," said Alicia. "But…"

"But?"

"We were never close, and I'm worried about what her being here, as opposed to Jack and Maddie, means."

The president made a motion to continue.

"They would be the better representatives. At least, Maddie would. Jack's never been great at tact. But they both know their stuff about ghosts and they're older, more experienced."

"And since they're, like, the experts," said one of the Extreme Ghostbreakers, "people'd probably listen to them more if they said they were wrong about ghosts not having feelings or whatever."

"Exactly," said Alicia. "Now, Jazz never agreed with her parents about that, but…"

"But it's suspicious. Great. Now, you." He pointed an accusatory finger at Showenhower. "Don't you think it might have been a good idea to mention your negative interactions with the head of state we are currently attempting to negotiate with?"

"Mr. President," said Showenhower, "I did tell you about my extensive experience controlling ghosts and making them work for me. How was I to know that one of them went on to rule others? Besides, we do not truly need to negotiate with them. As I said, we only need to—"

"I'm just going to stop you right there," said the president, holding up a hand. "Unless you can control the entire group, no, their entire country, your so-called solution isn't even practical, not to mention the ethics." Which. When leading a country, ethical concerns were often secondary to practical ones, but outright mind control on presumably sentient beings was a very large ethical problem. Large enough that (hopefully) even the most ruthless of politicians wouldn't outright ignore it. "And the ethics are a big part of it. Look, do any of you people have any way to make sure we aren't possessed? I know I've asked you before. Alicia, what was it Jasmine asked about a deflector?"

"An invention of my sister's," said Alicia. "It's a kind of belt, but… It's somewhere in my house in Spitoon. I can't remember where. I thought it was, well, just more nonsense. Didn't rightly believe in ghosts back then, no matter the family stories."

"Right. Then, we'll send someone down to get it."

He could only hope the next day went better.