There was a time when all nations knew how to fly, and Prussia had been one of the first learn how to do so. Germany was so jealous when Prussia got his hands on a Junkers piston engined monoplane before him. Prussia loved aerobatics and high-altitude flight. If his limited fuel would let him, he would spend hours gazing at the places he would pass over. Towns, meadows, rivers. Everything from horizon to horizon was him and his brother (unless he strayed close to another nation's border) and it made him feel small yet significant in the world. He was a nation, but there was a sense of humanity he felt when he flew. Perhaps it was because humans liked to fly too. Or perhaps it was because he could see so many lives interconnected in both the countryside, and towns he flew over, that he felt connected to them too, albeit only partially. Prussia was a part of their lives, and now they were part of his. Although, flying did give him a sense of superiority, which he loved to brag about when given the opportunity.
When Germany learned to fly, they would often compete for speed and endurance. During one of these flights, the engine on Prussia's plane began to cough as the RPM decreased. He dropped out of the sky, having to make an improvised emergency landing in a farmer's field. His still-spinning propeller narrowly missed a cow as Prussia braced for a crash that was much less severe than anticipated.
Of course, Germany never let him forget about the incident. They would often talk and laugh about it while out drinking beer.
Prussia loved flying, and admired the exploits of other pilots. But planes and spaceships didn't have pilots anymore. Instead, they were controlled by more efficient semi-sentient computers with all the necessary decision making protocols programmed into them.
He sat in a metallic streamlined spaceship with delta wings and rectangular thrust nozzles, waiting for it to depart for Mars. He looked at Poseidon, who sat on the aisle seat beside him, and wondered if him or anybody else onboard had even considered the possibility of being at the controls of a machine as fast and beautiful as the one they were in.
Poseidon had kindly upgraded Prussia's ticket to business class, and let him have the window seat. They sat in a separate cabin near the front of the spaceship, away from the working class miners. "I'm sure letting you fly business class is the least I can do to thank you for killing those goons," Poseidon said, breaking a long silence, "they were killing a lot of my workers."
"Your workers?" Asked Prussia, "I didn't realise you had facilities on Mars."
"They're new," said Poseidon nonchalantly, "mostly still under construction. Surveyors have recently discovered minerals there. And were there's minerals..."
"...There's Poseidon," finished Prussia, "I saw your adverts. I know corporations get called into existence the same way nations used to, but I never thought I'd actually meet one."
"Charmed," said Poseidon, sounding genuinely flattered.
Neither Prussia or Poseidon said anything for about half a minute. But it soon occurred to Prussia to ask, "how did you know who I am?"
"I read on your disappearance, and why you disappeared. But saw a few artists' depictions on what you look like. You know, many corporations are glad that they're nations' predecessors. But I always hoped you weren't all completely gone, that you weren't just ledgends or silly comic characters," he paused, thinking, "back in that fight, your movements would be physically impossible for any human. I'll bet you're more way more machine than man."
"It's true, I am more machine than man," replied Prussia, "any organic tissue has been rotted and discarded thanks to me being wiped off the maps."
A deep rumble that caused the fuselage and seats to quake became a high pitched scream as all six engines on the spaceship flamed into life. Thrust began to be vectored downwards, blasting the entire vehicle up vertically. Prussia's internal components became momentarily squeezed down to his carbon fibre pelvis during the rapid ascent. He looked left and right rapidly, the tiny windows only provided minimal situational awareness and the pressurized cabin made it difficult for him to perceive altitude. He became hypersensitive, to compensate for such a lack of information on the current situation. "You look nervous," said Poseidon, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of those mighty engines. Prussia said nothing, trying to maintain his stoic appearance. "Is this the first time you've flown in centuries or something?" Poseidon chuckled, "guess it's a little different to how it was back then." He then looked slightly sad, and turned to look at the seat in front of him.
"Fine. Well, I am a little nervous. It has been a while since I've been in any kind of aircraft," Prussia admitted.
"I thought machines like you weren't supposed to have emotions like nervousness," said Poseidon curiously, looking back at Prussia and tilting his head to the side.
"Emotions act as a guidance system in my decision making processes, and are devised inferences from analysing situations," explained Prussia.
Before Poseidon could reply, the horizontal thrust nozzles kicked in. The downward facing thrust nozzles also shifted to horizontal. At full power, the spaceship slid forwards through the air at phenomenal speeds unimaginable just a couple of centuries earlier. Prussia's internal components were then pressed against his hydraulically operated spine which was now kept in an upright position. Condensation blocked the view out the window as a few sound barriers were broken. The nose was now pitching up towards space with ever increasing degrees. Now that he was slightly more used to this type of travel, Prussia became slightly less hypersensitive.
The clouds looked so low from their altitude, they appeared to be almost touching the taupe-coloured ground. And the sky was fading to a darker shade of blue until star after star dotted the sky, making Earth look like a tiny orb in a huge chamber. It all seemed so much more massive back when he walked on it. Back on the Earth's surface, stars were shrouded from smog and light pollution. It had been years since Prussia had seen stars. They looked magnificent, the true meaning of larger-than-life. And he wondered if Germany would be living among any one of them.
The rapid acceleration slowed as cruising speed was almost reached. Prussia could see Europe, or what was left of it, before it became devastated by corporate warfare, with vast amounts of land flooded by the sea. Bays and headlands existed where they didn't during his time as a nation. He could see where he once existed, too. It was tiny in comparison to the size of the planet and vast universe that was visible just outside the window. The more he looked at where he once existed, the more he became upset. He turned his head away from the window wearily. "Can you forgive corporations like Poseidon for what they did to nations?" Whispered Gilbird to Prussia.
Prussia considered what Gilbird had said. It was true that corporations were partially responsible for the end of nations, but surely Poseidon wasn't completely to blame. "Maybe," he whispered back, too quiet for Poseidon to hear.
"It must have been really cool back when people were allowed to pilot these things," remarked Poseidon, with a hint or sadness in his voice.
"Yeah, it was," said Prussia with a sigh.