"...and with any luck, we won't have to worry about that issue any longer."

Laguna himself couldn't remember how the sentence had started. In the air in front of him, the text of the speech Chan's staff had prepared for him was hovering in holographic letters that the cameras couldn't pick up. The text had been scrolling down for the last 52 minutes, and was nearing its end.

Absently, he fingered the wad of paper he had hidden under his formal president's robes. He never wore the robes except for formal functions; he had kept his hand in his pocket the entire time for fear he wouldn't be able to find it again.

"Esthar is still the most powerful, the most advanced, and the most dynamistic society in the world," he went on, trying to remember what Kiros had said about what "dynamistic" meant. Or whether it was actually a word. "Plus, we make a mean Torama-whisker stew." There was obligatory laughter. He almost felt Chan sigh from his seat beside Laguna's podium. Still, the chairman had long ago gotten used to Laguna's drop-in jokes, and learned to tolerate them.

"But, as always, we have to remember there are dangers, from other nations in the world" — who resent us for our success and our freedom, the prompter read, but Laguna just couldn't bring himself to say that. "— who...rival us still...in these days, and...others," he finished. He'd definitely hear from Chan about that.

Or not. He was getting close to the big finish; the TV networks that were handling the live broadcast of the speech muted and subtitled most of it so they could fill the air time with commentary and instant-reaction panel discussions from people who were listening to the speech; but they always carried the last couple of minutes, so as not to miss the applause at the end.

"When I became your president 17 years ago, I promised you an Esthar that would be rebuilt better than it was before the war, and the way to do that was to focus on ourselves and not challenge the rest of the world. And that approach has kept us out of war for all these years, even if we have come close."

That was the line. The networks would all be carrying this live by now, waiting for him to say something inspirational or just shut up so people could start clapping. He removed the paper from his pocket, trying to ignore the cramping in his leg, and stealthily unfolded it on the podium.

"...But we have come close, haven't we?" he asked. "I don't need to remind any of you about that." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chan start to fidget. "After the Lunar Cry hit, there was talk about taking down the barrier and becoming part of the world again. Back then, I stood here and said we had to rebuild first. Well, we've rebuilt. And Galbadia's now challenging us again. Maybe the reason why is because they still see us as the Esthar from 17 years ago. I mean, what would it look like from their perspective? We try to take over the world and then just vanish? I'd think that was pretty scary."

He'd now gone off even the script he had written; he glanced down to find his place. There was a low murmur rising from the delegates. "...Maybe it's time to try something different," he said. "Maybe if we weren't so secretive, Galbadia and everyone else wouldn't feel the need to challenge us. We've changed. That's why I'm proposing we establish relations with Galbadia, Dollet, Balamb, the Gardens...with everybody who has a stake in the world's future. This is a new Esthar, and we don't need to hide from the world anymore. Instead, we can help to lead it to a more peaceful future. Thank you all, long live Esthar, and long live the future!"

The applause was late in coming; Chan just stood there frozen. Laguna waved, grinning, and retreated as quickly as he could, trying desperately to avoid tripping over himself.

He was conscious for the first time in a while of how truly huge the assembly chamber was, as it took him about ten minutes just to get out of it, shaking hands with every representative who could get in his way for the photo-op. Usually it took him at least twice that long, but all the representatives were looking a bit shell-shocked and slow to shove their hands at him. Which was kind of nice, even if he kept half-expecting Chan to come running up and tackle him from behind.

Instead, when he finally reached the exit, the chairman was waiting for him. For a second, Laguna thought about turning and walking the other way, but Chan was between him and the only lift whose location he remembered.

"Mr. President," he said, "Do you have any idea what you've done?" For once, the chairman looked completely focused, which served as a good sign of how angry he was.

"Yeah," said Laguna. "Y'know, I checked the constitution. There's nothin' in it that says you've gotta approve what I say in my speeches."

"We are in the midst of a military showdown with Galbadia," said Chan. "You've just signaled a willingness to capitulate."

"What?" asked Laguna. "How does that work?"

"Galbadia will view your call for more openness as a sign of fear — especially since you framed it as a means to make them stop challenging us. We want Galbadia to consider us a threat; that is the only way to deter hostility. You have undercut our entire defense strategy at a moment of crisis!"

Laguna's stomach twisted a bit. "...Look, I'll I'm saying is maybe there's a better way to keep the peace, you know? And if you'd been willing to consider that in the first place —"

"There is no better way," said Chan, voice low but dangerous. "And now there may be no way at all."

With that, he turned and walked off, expertly avoiding the gaggle of reporters who were descending on Laguna's position. Laguna stood there frozen until there was no way to do so himself.

"Mr. President!" called one reporter. "What effect do you think your proposal will have on the current situation with Galbadia?"

Laguna gulped, staring back at the cameras being jammed into his face. He felt as if he were going to faint.

"...Um," he said.

- - - — — - - -

Miranda hadn't slept at all since getting back from South Lanker, and it was beginning to catch up with her. She was standing in the office of the Times' editor-in-chief, swaying a bit on her feet and fidgeting even more than usual. Blake stood off to the side, arms folded and looking grim; the editor-in-chief herself, Maxine Sairn, was sitting behind her desk. The Frostwater file lay open in front of her.

"And you gave a copy of this to SeeD?" Sairn was saying.

"Yeah," said Miranda.

"Well," Sairn began slowly, "I suppose 'why' is the first question that comes to mind."

"It's how I got the tip about the SeeD ship the Galbadians were chasing down in Centra," said Miranda. "I think I can have that story for tomorrow. I've already got twenty centimeters on it, and —"

"Foster, you just gave us a Galbadian playbook for an invasion of Esthar!" Blake broke in. "One you think they're actually going through with; and you want us to run a story on some pirate ship that isn't?"

"Yeah, that's kind of weird," Miranda admitted. "...But no one else knows about the invasion yet, so it won't look bad if we don't run it right away. Plus, I still think there's a connection between this ship and the NALCON."

"But you don't have that," said Blake. "All you've got is one SeeD who we'd have to keep anonymous and a lot of speculation."

"I'm gonna use the SeeD angle," said Miranda. "There are plenty of teams stationed here in Dollet, and I can talk to people from them this afternoon. It'll bring in the bigger picture of Galbadia's relationship with Garden."

"We've done four features on that just this year," said Blake.

"This is different!" Mrianda insisted.

"Yes, it is," said Sairn. "Because now this comes against the backdrop of the biggest military operation Galbadia's ever undertaken. Except our readers don't know that." She leaned forward, interlacing her fingers and resting them on the file. "And why can't we tell them?"

"Well, our only source is that file," Miranda said. "And we're really not supposed to have that."

"Foster, it's a leaked document that's classified JC-5," Blake said; "of course we're not supposed to have it."

"It's more than that," said Miranda. "I don't even know if I should've shown it to you — but look, we can use it to do more reporting, right? Get something firsthand, and then run that as a story."

"There's something I haven't heard yet," said Sairn. "How do we know this information is reliable?"

Miranda blinked. "W...well, why would they leak us bad information if we couldn't use it anyway?"

"Miranda, I've been trying to find a way in which all of this does make sense," Sairn said, "but it's not coming to me." She paused again. "Who did you get this from?"

"...I can't say." Miranda looked at the floor. "That was the deal; that's how I got it."

"Miranda, right now I'm not asking you to do a story on this; just to tell me."

"I know," said Miranda. "But I can't."

"Foster," said Blake, "there's taking initiative and then there's this. Now, what's going on that you're not telling us?"

Miranda shook her head. "Look, there's a pretty fair chance my source will know that Garden has the file, and they'll definitely trace that back to me! We can't print this anyway, so all that'll happen if you know is you'll be targets too!"

"Foster, we're your editors!" Blake exclaimed. "It's not your job to protect us. It's our job to protect the paper!"

"That's what I'm trying to do!" said Miranda. "This is all happening because of me; the least I can do is fix it!"

"Miranda." Sairn looked about as exasperated as Blake, but her voice was much leveler. "We can handle any situation better if we know everything. That's what I'm asking for from you."

Miranda winced; she raised a hand to her head and was surprised to find tears welling in her eyes. "I—" she started, before taking a few more seconds to control herself. "I just...I can't."

Sairn leaned back in her chair and sighed. Then she stood. "All right, Miranda," she said, glancing at Blake. "...Take the rest of the day off; go home and get some rest."

"Uh...what?" asked Miranda, stunned. "I...No, we can still do the —"

"Don't worry about it," said Sairn. "We can manage everything."

Miranda felt considerably dizzier. "...Am I being fired?"

"No, Miranda," said Sairn; but Miranda caught a hint of 'not yet' in her voice. "Just go home for today."

After another moment that she needed to remember how to move her legs, Miranda turned to leave. "Um—" She stopped before reaching the door, however, and turned back around. "I'm s...I'm sorry about all this," she said, glancing at Blake.

She left. When she was gone, Blake and Sairn exchanged a look. "What do you think?" Sairn asked.

"I dunno about the story," said Blake. "But Foster's got to be the most driven person on staff. Looks like things finally caught up with her."

Sairn looked down at the Frostwater file. "Hyne help us all."

- - - — — - - -

Martine looked up from the after-action report that Tavin had typed up on the way back from South Lanker. "I'm hardly sure where to begin," he said.

"In my judgment, the mission constraints were insurmountable," said Tavin, the only one of the SeeDs who was standing. They were in Headmaster Martine's office; he was sitting behind his desk, and Palmer stood beside him. "The Galbadians wanted us to track down the target for them without knowing the target's true identity or situation. Once we learned too much, the Galbadians terminated our deployment."

"At which point Ms. Thorsen chose to share your grievances with the Dollet Times," said Palmer.

Keri gulped. "Ma'am, excuse me," she said, standing. "That wasn't Tavin's —"

"Please, Ms. Thorsen," said Palmer. "You'll have your turn to speak."

Keri sat.

"Keri was acting in response to a concerted effort by Galbadia to hamstring SeeDs out of doing their jobs," said Tavin. "I think it's understandable."

"It's entirely against protocol," said Palmer, "understandable or not."

"Clearly, Galbadia feels a need to keep SeeD at arm's length during its deployments," said Martine. "Nonetheless, they continue to fund Garden and contract SeeDs because we have a hard-earned reputation for success. That reputation has now been strained by this mission's failure."

"The mission wouldn't have been a failure if—"

"—if the Galbadians had provided you all the details," Palmer said. "That may be. But their refusal to do so was itself a sign of their mistrust, and that mistrust has now been reinforced."

"So we're supposed to succeed at an impossible mission?" asked Sean.

"Mr. Schier," Martine warned. "You will await your turn."

"If the mission were not prohibitively difficult," said Palmer, "it would not call for SeeD. I instructed you at the outset to maintain Garden's integrity. I see little evidence that you have."

"That's not fair!" Keri said, springing to her feet again.

"None of this is fair," Palmer said cooly. "But it is so."

"All right," said Martine, standing. The other two SeeDs jumped to their feet as well. "We'll adjourn for now. You'll be debriefed one at a time, beginning in half an hour. Until then, you're dismissed."

Hesitantly, the SeeDs filed out of his office. Martine turned to look out the long window that looked out over the Garden grounds. Palmer paced a bit, hovering by the side of his desk.

"I don't think we can be too hard on them," said Martine. "If this mission wasn't set up to fail, it may as well have been."

"It gives the Galbadians a pretext for retaliatory action," said Palmer.

"Why would they need a pretext?" asked Martine. "I think it's what it looks like: they were so desperate to find the last SeeDs outside their influence that they pushed their influence with us further then they wanted to. Galbadia doesn't like being reminded that they've come to rely on us; it makes them suspicious, and they see conspiracies everywhere." He sighed. "In any event, if and when Galbadia retaliates, I doubt very much it will be because of this. At least not exclusively."

Palmer frowned. "Are you thinking about Frostwater?"

"If this causes us trouble, it's going to be there," said Martine. "Intentionally or not, the White SeeDs led Galbadia's fleet straight into Esthar's; the possibility of Garden and Esthar joining forces may be what sent Naraka over the edge. In any event, he certainly won't allow a variable as major as Garden to remain uncontained while he's fighting a war in Esthar."

Palmer was quiet for a moment, her expression having darkened considerably. "So in a way, those SeeDs did us a favor," she said. "At least we know for sure what's coming."

Martine nodded. "Recall everyone who's not under contract or being watched by Galbadia," he told her. "And send the junior classmen home."

"That'll violate the Galbadians' curfew order," said Palmer.

"At this point, I don't think it matters," said Martine.

Palmer sighed. "...I'll get started right away," she said, hesitating for just a moment. "...Hyne help us."

She stepped out into the reception room, leaving Martine to look down over the campus and wonder how many more times he would be able to see the sight.