Chapter 74

The Mayor

Liberation, along with the discovery that Thalassa and her companions had survived, lit a new fire under George Peterson. The navy's unisex showers were deemed an injustice for him, and Thalassa escorted George to the same hotel she had stayed in during her last visit to FH. The owner was all too happy to accommodate the grandson of Howard Peterson, and he was given a free, all-inclusive stay for as long as he needed it. And need it George would, as the sunken Ross Torama had been his home.

He spent a long time beneath the jets, then brushed his teeth for thrice as long as he normally would. For now, he would leave the beard. When he returned to his room, Thalassa had been joined by Ellone. Although her reputation preceded her, she was now White SeeD's best healer, and after telling him to sit, she thoroughly assessed him. Apart from being undernourished, Ellone determined he was in good health physically. George was also now the palest gentleman in FH, but with this fine spring weather, he knew that would not last. And it turned out Ellone had a wry sense of humour.

'The sun is good for us,' she said, with a smile that took away some of her years. 'In moderation.'

George smiled back.

'I've been hallucinating,' he admitted. 'Seeing my Granddad. Dobe and Flo, too.' He looked between the two women, who shared a look, then went on. 'I knew it couldn't be them because they said things that they never would. Granddad kept telling me you were all dead, that it was my fault.'

Thalassa sat on his other side, placing a bronzed hand on his pasty one.

'I think it's only natural, George,' Ellone said gently. 'Based on what you've been through. I'm no councillor, and I won't pretend to be. But if you need mental health support, I can put a word in to Squall while we're here. Doctor Kadowaki's staff are among the best in the world.'

George shook his head. 'Thanks, Ellone, but my place is here.' He looked at Thalassa. 'So, what would you have of my people, Captain?'

As Ellone left, Thalassa had a pizza platter sent upstairs, then filled George on what had transpired during his incarceration. That freeing FH was only the first phase of the bold and audacious Operation Excalibur, and that the end result was to trap the bulk of Esthar's army on the Forested Plains. That indeed there was no time to lose, and that SeeD and the New Royal Army would be sailing for Redwood before midnight.

When Thalassa told George what the Allies actually needed from his people, the trawlerman laughed deeply, realising it was the first time he had done so in weeks.

'You would have us humble fishermen school Centran royalists in how to use Esthari warships?'

'I don't see why not.' Thalassa said defensively, and George wondered if it had been her idea. 'A lot of the production workers are trained test operators.'

'Well, I guess they are,' he allowed. 'The Red Witch just wanted results, and I don't think she realised that she was giving people the means to one day rise up against her.'

'We're playing the long game here, George,' Thalassa said. 'I know a New Royal Navy won't be at combat readiness by the time we reach Redwood. Centra has a hundred years of catching up to do, though it has to start somewhere. Still, it's a way for FH to contribute to Ultimecia's downfall.'

George frowned, looking to the middle distance. 'The townsfolk will be grateful, but at the end of it all, we're supposed to be pacifists. It what we were founded on. However just the cause, training foreigners how to blow up other ships and cause untold death at sea goes against every principle we stand for.'

Thalassa sighed. 'We knew you would say that. The alternative would be to just demolish the production facility and let Centra claim the fleet here, take them off your hands.'

'Unless,' George said, rising suddenly and moving to the window, 'I make the people see reason. I was there that day, with my mates, hiding from Granddad and smoking underneath the bridge. We were still up there when the Galbadian marines came. I saw your dad use Leviathan to sweep the Galbadian heavy vehicle from the square, the one Selphie and the others were inside. Afterward, Squall tried to reason with Mayor Dobe, saying that he believes the world needed people like us and people like him, though Dobe would have none of it. A lot of what Squall said went over my head at the time, but now his words make a lot of sense.'

George turned back to her.

'I need to gather the townsfolk this afternoon! Before you all leave! Get your people to spread the word!'

By the afternoon, the town square had been set up as it would be for a festival. Such events were the highlight of life for the townsfolk, and typically every resident of FH would turn out for them; this was small, close-knit community wherein everybody knew everybody. Where the rest of the plaza had been full of market stalls during Thalassa's last visit, these had now been cleared. In their place was a large rectangular stage erected from scaffolding materials to the right of the station entrance, with many tables and benches placed in long lines away from it.

The square was not too big, and it was mostly FH folk within it. Neo-SeeD and White SeeD had been invited as they were small in number and their GFs had spearheaded the liberation. As were the Royal Family of Centra and the Knights of Pluto. The Centrans sat at one table, with the monarchs at the head. Anyone who could not get into the square were looking down from the railway tracks above, the crowd being a mixture of Centran soldiers and cadets from Battleship Island. As many chairs and stools as could be spared had been provided, though many were still standing or sitting with their legs dangling over the edge.

Gilgamesh, with the White SeeDs, towered over everyone else in the square, Ultima Weapon gleaming across his red cape. FH only showed enmity towards monsters, and the townsfolk were having trouble accepting Gilgamesh was both sentient and unhostile. Thalassa was amused by their unease at him and their wide berth, wondering how they would react if they knew he were extra-terrestrial. Then again, FH had always had strong ties with Shumi Village.

The first order of business was a memorial service for the late crew of the Ross Torama. George took centre-stage, as pictures of each of the crewmen were shown on a projector screen behind the podium where Esthar's flag once stood, next to the Fisherman's Horizon banner. Hodson was first, after giving nearly fifty years of service to the trawler. George gave a brief description of their lives and careers and mentioned all of their present family members by name before playing a song in tribute of each of them; his beloved guitar lost, he had found enough to time to purchase and tune another before the gathering.

Second, surprisingly for George, was a belated thirtieth nameday celebration, as he had reached the milestone in incarceration. He strummed the common nameday song himself while everyone in attendance sung, and when he was finished, the hotel owner currently sheltering him earlier presented him with a bottle of his finest sparkling wine. Then, all the other townsfolk formed a line before the stage to present George with gifts, however big or small, and soon enough he had several empty bottle crates packed with presents along the stage.

Thalassa looked along the table to her junior cadets and saw that one was missing. The pact had been sealed, and Ifrit had junctioned with his namesake. One trait little Ifrit shared with Seifer was reverence of great warriors, and his weeks training with Rhodry seemed to have had a lasting impression on him. He had been delighted to see Rhodry again in Centra and was now seated next to him at Squall's table. Although Ifrit had shown much of the fiery passion of his late father, Thalassa had seen little to suggest his behaviour would be a problem. Some would put his obedience down to Fujin's constant presence, but Thalassa did not think so. Even away from his mother, the boy had not once flaunted his new GF power, even around Edea.

She could see Noctis and Relm had fully adopted their new positions as commanders in their father's army. Without chance or means to design and distribute a new uniform, the prince and princess had just dyed their White SeeD uniforms charcoal, and they were absent their hard-earned berets. Atop the railway above, most of the Centrans were just wearing their wool travelling shirts and breeches, making the New Royal Army seem more like a militia – an army that would be open to all those of Centran descent. All except for the Pluto Knights, who wore crested charcoal military jackets modelled on Centra's pre-Calamity army.

George was now moving up and down the tables. He would engage every individual group in conversation for a respectable amount of time before moving farther down, even if were just a solitary person. Thalassa was very intrigued as to his intentions but knew her curiosity would soon be satisfied.

Instead, she turned her attention back to her own people. Then she looked to Gilgamesh. He had a barrel of pale ale on his left that he had shouldered here earlier on, and had a swilling litre tankard in two hands apiece. Thalassa wondered if the alcohol affected him at all, as he had already consumed enough to send her, Tian and Raiden paralytic.

'How was Mount Ordeals, Gilgamesh?' Raiden was asking.

'Boring,' Gilgamesh answered. 'Ordeals is just overrun with ghouls – not that they bother me, of course! I'm practically family! They told me nothing much goes on now that Alexander's not there.'

He finished one tankard and immediately scooped another litre of cloudy pale ale from his personal barrel.

'Can I have everyone's attention, please?' George said into a microphone, back on stage.

The din swiftly died down, and everyone turned to look at him.

'Once again, after eighteen years, Fisherman's Horizon is an independent thalassocracy!'

George raised his own lager tankard, to which everyone cheered. Then he detached the microphone and set his drink down, walking to the front of the scaffolding and taking a much more serious tone.

'Fisherman's Horizon,' he said. 'The Founding Fathers envisioned this to be utopia, isolated from the rest of the world. We would take part in no wars, not concern ourselves in the affairs of other nations, and be both too isolated and too small to be of concern to another country. And yet their ideals were their undoing. The Galbadian invasion should have been a warning, but it wasn't. The westerners came. They burnt, they raped, and they pillaged, and would have destroyed our settlement if SeeD hadn't sent them on their way.'

Along the table, Thalassa saw Fynn stiffen, and Sophia put a hand on his. It happened years before he had enlisted in the army, but the Sergeant bore Galbadia's shame.

'That should have been the first warning that the utopia could never be! The superpowers didn't care if we were a small thalassocracy that couldn't even pose a threat to the smallest island in the Albatross. They didn't respect our way of life! They didn't come peacefully and wouldn't let us be!

'Two years later, the Red Witch came. She who claimed we were of one people and that we should be absolved into a remerging Esthari empire. It was a thinly veiled agreement that would only benefit the eastern beast. She stole our renewable energy methods and placed tariffs on all our industries! She understood little of sustainability and built a facility that we knew would made our own waters unfishable! And when Mayor Dobe and the other Founding Fathers resisted, she had them burnt at the pyre at this very square!' he said vehemently, gesturing with his other arm as he beheld all the onlookers.

'For eighteen years, we endured the Red Witch and her Governors. Which brings us to the present day. Today, we need to accept that we must adapt if we are to thrive. SeeD has saved us twice, an army without a country. The restored Kingdom of Centra pledged every fighting man and woman they could ferry here to the cause. As we are all gathered here celebrating our liberty, we must acknowledge that conflict was necessary for this to happen!'

George paused again. Many of the townsfolk were murmuring among themselves. He cut the mumblings off with next words.

'We must learn from this subjugation we have suffered for nearly two decades! Although the Founding Fathers were against all forms of militarism, we have seen the necessity of having to defend our own borders! We must have a force trained by SeeD, to an elite standard, though never with the size or the doctrine to strike beyond our own waters. What I also propose, people of FH, is rather than a costly and lengthy demolition of the Red Witch's production plant, we convert it! Convert it into a base for our self-defence force! We, the pioneers of safe and sustainable living, can make it safe for our local ecosystems!'

There were hushed murmurs abound as George paused for breath. As, for the townsfolk, what George was proposing could be likened to turning the Temple of Hyne on its head.

'Granted, it will be a long time before this force is ready,' he continued. 'But in the meantime, I am certain that both arms of SeeD will be willing to repel foreign invasion until that time comes. I hope too that we can also turn to our newfound Centran friends.'

On the tracks above, many of the Centran onlookers began to cheer. Thalassa saw Steiner's great girth as the king shifted in his seat.

'We must enter a new age evolved from our foundations. In the generations to come, I expect our wonderful ocean settlement to grow into a city, extending for miles along the Horizon Bridge, leading the way in shipbuilding and fishing methods for a thousand years! On this day, I wish to run for Mayor, to begin ushering in this change!' The townsfolk gasped as one, and George looked eagerly among them. 'Allow us to determine if there are any other contenders, and we shall have a vote this very afternoon!'

There was only one identifiable sound of protest, as a middle-aged man stood and ran for the stage.

'This is blasphemy!' he bellowed. 'You stand in almost the exact spot my mother and father burnt, and you spit upon their ashes! Not to mention those of your grandfather!'

'Would you have history repeat itself, Anthony?' George asked levelly.

'You can't do this!' the man shouted, in a bid to match the volume of George's microphone.

'If you wish to run against me, you're more than welcome to,' George replied. 'It's an open contest.'

Anthony walked onto the stage and roughly snatched the microphone from George's hand, which resulted in some angry outbursts and outright boos from the onlookers. 'I too will run for Mayor!' he then said. 'I promise to uphold the core ideals of my mother and father, vows that they died for!'

It was clear from the crowd reaction that he would not win, that he would lose by a huge margin. Some of them shouted, 'Collaborator!' Others shouted, 'Imperial!'

'No!' Anthony protested. 'That is not true! I swear this upon their ashes! I am loyal to FH! The Red Witch knew I was the son of Dobe and Flo, and that I was raised to take over in the event of my father's retirement. She had me schooled in Esthar City as part of a long-term plan to appease Fisherman's Horizon. Twice I was offered the position of Governor, and twice I refused! I would not be a puppet who would oversee direct violations of our core values and be powerless to do anything about it! I would not be party to punishing our trawlermen, redistributing their vessels to the aristocracy for not meeting quotas, quotas that the widespread pollution made more difficult to achieve! And I would not turn a blind eye to the way imperial soldiers treated our hardworking women!'

While Anthony was speaking, George had moved to rear stage to procure another microphone. Some of the townsfolk had gone silent, but it was clear from the overall reaction that they would not be swayed.

'Now, we are free!' Anthony said. 'This is our chance! I can take my father's old chair and strive for the utopia he always wanted for us!'

George raised his new microphone. 'Well, if there are no other entrees, we'll call for a vote fifteen minutes from now.' Anthony looked at him in shock. 'FH knows us well, Anthony. They have heard our pitches, and I can't see the point in a longer delay. Votes will be cast not by paper, but by a raised hand. We'll get the cameras rolling, and both the Royal Family of Centra and the Children of Fate are here as witness.' He held Anthony's frustrated look. 'Agreed?'

Hesitantly, Anthony nodded. They put their microphones down, though remained in heated discussion upon the stage for moment. There was lots of wild body language and animated gestures from Anthony, from which George remained impassive. Thalassa was happy that her friend had managed to hold such great composure considering what he had endured over the past weeks. After a few minutes, George left the stage and walked to where Squall, Rinoa and Selphie was sitting. He waved Thalassa over.

When she got there, George said, 'I hope I wasn't overstepping my bounds. But my vision of FH will never be, not without your support. If I win, will you build our self-defence force?'

Squall hesitated. His instincts would say yes, but it was not a commitment he would make on moral impulse. Thalassa, however, did not have the same red tape to worry about.

'Do you even need to ask?' she replied. 'White SeeD will always welcome the children of Fisherman's Horizon to be forged upon our boat.'

'Thank you, Lassa,' George said.

Rinoa leaned forward slightly. 'Perhaps SeeD can give you an agreement in principle, for now. After all, the practice of us fighting for the highest bidder died along with Norg. SeeD has long been the champions of the underdog.'

Noctis appeared over Thalassa's shoulder, startling her momentarily.

'I'm Prince Noctis,' he said to George, offering a hand for a humble shake, as they had never been formerly introduced. 'I send word from my mother and father, Mr. Peterson. As the Kingdom once did for Karnak, we will defend the sovereignty of Fisherman's Horizon until such a time you are deemed independent enough to defend yourselves. All we ask in return is that your sailors school a prospective New Royal Navy in the operation of imperial vessels, of which you have an abundance here.'

'Done!' George said happily.

Anthony was watching them, nursing his tankard. In seeing his popular competitor in such high company, he knew he could not win. His face said it all. With resignation, he knocked back the remainder of his beer and walked back onto the stage. The fifteen minutes were up.

'I hereby withdraw my bid to became Mayor!' he announced. 'Although for the record, our custom decrees there must still be a vote.' Everyone looked at George now. 'For all in favour of George Peterson becoming Mayor, please raise a hand!'

Every single one of the townsfolk voted for George. Anthony raised his hand last, then waved George onto the stage. He offered the same hand for a shake.

'I do not agree with your policies, Mayor Peterson,' he said now. 'But I can accept I would have been vastly outvoted. Allow me to apologise for my words before.'

He gave the microphone to George.

'That's okay, Anthony. All the same, I am just the grandson of a master fisherman who has turned out to be highly popular with our townsfolk, and now they want me to lead. All I request is that you give me time.'

George cautiously looked at the crowd.

'Also, I believe that it was commendable of Anthony to turn down the Governorship twice. The Red Witch didn't care about FH, so long as we provided her empire with a steady stream of fish, warships, and solar panels. Anthony could have ruled us autonomously, but he kept to his core values even after being indoctrinated in Esthar City. For this, I believe Anthony deserves a round of applause!' George led, and everyone in attendance followed suit. He turned back to the son of Dobe and Flo. 'Anthony, I could use someone schooled in politics in an office I don't even have yet. For now, how about I name you my deputy? Just give me a few years. If I'm not up to the job, then I'll go back to doing what I do best, and you can have my chair.'

None of the crowd objected. George was an elected Mayor now, and his word was law. He turned to address the onlookers.

'Fisherman's Horizon is not a utopia,' George said. 'It never has been, and it never will be. But going forward, we can strive to build something close to it.' He looked around at his people. 'I'd like to think the Founding Fathers are in their utopia now, along with my crewmembers. Waiting for us.' The Mayor smiled at his people. 'And if our Judgement is favourable, we will join them one day.'