On a Landing Craft Utility, Outside the Great Habour of Jin-Hark
Vlad Baris, Ph.D. and NSC Contractor, watched the Lourian light galley sail towards the Landing Craft Utility the American expedition to Rodenius was on. As set by local regulations, the LCU was in a line of several ships waiting for a pilot to guide them through a gauntlet of underwater rocks and into the Great Habour of Jin-Hark. In the background were the brown-red walls and rectangular towers surrounding Jin-Hark. Directly ahead was a large gap between the two towers which delineated the harbour entrance.
There was an audible click as Rolling Stone reporter Kevin Wright snapped a picture with his Kodak DLSR as the galley was silhouetted by the two towers in the background. Bruce Shepard shuffled around Kevin to better capture digital footage on his General Electric DCR for the Associated Press.
As the galley drew up portside to the LCU, Vlad noted the many rowers sitting on benches required to draw the ship closer once they stopped using the sails. Lengthwise it was only about five meters shorter than the LCU. Five meters was what, fifteen feet? He felt that it was going to be a long time before he stopped thinking in metric instead of American measurements. He sighed as he momentarily thought about the comfortable villa he left behind in Greece.
His attention came back to reality when the side of the galley bumped into the LCU. He felt the LCU shudder with the controlled collision.
A gruff man with a fully white beard and tanned skin stood up from his seat at the head of the galley. "Navis nomen, patriam generis, ac novissimum portum vocant."
"Ship name, country of nationality, and last port of call," translated Vlad.
Chief Petty Officer Gimbal, now at the side of the LCU, responded, "LCU 1627, hull number 14. United States of America. Port Apra, Guam."
Vlad had to spell most words in his translation for the galley leader who carved notes into a wax tablet. "How many hours do you intend to stay docked for?"
"We'll be away as soon as we unload our passengers and they've gotten safely through customs."
"I'll mark you down for two hours then. Payment for pilot and docking is done at the harbour office. Can't miss the building."
After seeing Gimbal nod, Vlad spoke, "We understand."
After being satisfied, the Lourian pointed to a lanky 16 or 17-year-old sitting on a bench. "Ammonius, you take this one."
Ammonius stood up and waved to the Americans. "Hello everyone, I am Ammonius. I'll be your harbour pilot today. May I come aboard?"
"I'm Chief Petty Officer Gimbal. You have permission to climb aboard." Vlad chose to translate Gimbal's rank as 'Princeps Pusillus', literally 'little leader'.
A Marine helped Ammonius up over the side, and Chief Gimbal shook his hand. "How long have you been sailing, Ammonius."
"Since I was 12. I've been working as a pilot since I turned 14 two years ago."
"So you're 16?"
"Yes, Princeps."
"Well then, you're the youngest person on this ship. The youngest amongst our crew is 19."
"Don't you have younger boys in your crew?"
"No, it takes a certain amount of education to join, so the minimum age is 17."
"Ah, so like the Milishial crews then."
Vlad took a brief moment to ponder how many of the ships in the waters around them had working children aboard.
The light galley rowed away and began its journey to the next ship in line.
"That's my cue," said Ammonius. He pointed out a direction slightly to port. "You'll want to make a turn this way first. Hidden rocks under the waves block a straight run into the harbour…"
The LCU made its way through the water at up to 11 knots as Chief Gimbal answered questions about the vessel's boxy shape and method of propulsion in between adhering to directions from Ammonius.
As they passed under the gazes of the guards from the machicolations atop the harbour chain towers, the Chief pointed out the gap in an inner set of walls on the opposite end of the straight harbour. Behind the gap was what appeared to be a circular island structure with a brick-shaped building on its roof overlooking the harbour. "Is that an inner harbour?"
"Yes, that is the military harbour. The ring holds the repair and maintenance bays. Ships that are ready to sail dock around the island in the center. The rectangular bastion on top of the island naval complex contains the office of the commanding Duke of the harbour, usually the Grand Duke when the fleet's not out, and allows him a commanding view of the whole harbour."
This matched the descriptions of Ancient Carthage's cothon Vlad read in his studies. The scale of the harbour probably represented the value of oceanic trade to the island-bound Kingdom of Louria.
"Impressive," remarked Chief Gimbal. "I notice there appear to be two non-Lourian warships currently docked in the merchant harbour. Can you tell me anything about them?"
In the center of the left side of the merchant harbour were two ships docked side by side that towered over the merchant ships that plied Jin-Hark. The first, closer to the entrance, was a wooden sail 240 ft long warship with 3 masts and ten cannons visible on a broadside in a 7 main deck, 3 upper deck configuration.
"The wooden sailship is the Ester, the first and last of her class built nearly a decade ago. She's a wind gem-driven frigate and the last of the Parpaldian wooden warships. I've heard the Parpaldians consider her fully obsolete, so they use her as a guard ship to represent their commitment to the Concordat. Not that anyone expects any foreign power to attempt to invade Rodenius and endure the united wrath of the world."
Chief Gimbal pointed at the front of the grey metal warship sticking out behind the Ester for about 60 feet. There was a lone straight-backed and curved-front turret with an estimated 120mm cannon near the front.
"That's the Dúvensell, a Urus (Copper)-class destroyer. She's more than twenty years old and is the Holy Milishial Empire's contribution. She has no sails at all and is completely made from metal. Oh, there's the spot we'll dock at, Princeps."
The LCU turned and slowed down several merchant docking spots before reaching the two foreign warships in the harbour. As they docked in the shadow cast by the two taller vessels, the journalists recorded the busy crew on shore loading up crates onto the simple crane of a wooden sailing merchantman beside them. Ammonius called down to an official onshore and reported the LCU's identity as the craft was secured and the ramp lowered down.
"Over there is the harbour office. I'll accompany your money handler there. Once payment is concluded, then I'll return to guide you back out."
"You'll want to follow Foreign Service Officer Harris then." The Chief pointed him out to Ammonius.
Master Gunnery Sergeant Lane, the Staff Non-Comissioned Officer in charge of the Marine Security Guard Detachment assigned to them, assigned a couple of Marines to accompany Vlad, William, and Ammonius to get the payment done while the rest of the group remained near the LCU.
The young man quickly walked down the wide ramp as the passengers of the LCU gathered their gear. After ensuring he did not leave anything behind, Vlad stepped ashore onto cobblestones and looked around at all the horse-drawn carts and wagons nearby. He breathed in and smelled the salty air mixed in with the farts of the animals. The edges of his lips curled up as a memory from long ago surfaced. He looked back and saw a better view of the Milishial destroyer.
"Tell the pilot we're ready to go, Vlad," said William.
Vlad complied. The quintet headed over towards the wide one-story stone building and headed inside past a curtained entrance.
A man standing beyond the entrance greeted them. "Please line up over here." He pointed towards four groups of people queued in front of a counter dividing the room from the staff areas. As the Americans did so, Ammonius walked around the counter and disappeared past an archway.
"Are the four of you in the same group?"
"Yes."
"Do you have Lourian coinage?"
"No."
"Then you'll stay in this line for currency exchange. What do you plan to use to exchange?"
William raised his hands and uncovered a small gold ingot he had prepared in his palm.
"Gold is suitable."
A pair of robed men entered from outside. After asking the same questions, they were moved directly to an empty counter spot after replying they had Lourian coinage already. They were long gone in the forty minutes it took for William to reach the front of the line.
A balding man looked at them. "Please approach and place what you want to exchange here."
Two one-ounce gold ingots worth about $560 were placed on the top of the counter.
"Gold. Do you know the purity level?"
"99.9 percent- I mean 99.9 parts of a hundred," translated Vlad as he read the English inscriptions on the ingots.
The clerk gaped at the two ingots in front of him with words inscribed in them with a bit of deformation from William's overhandling. "By the Four, that must be the highest purity gold I have ever handled. Please wait a moment."
The clerk placed the two ingots on a scale, balanced them, and noted down their weight of 56.7 grams on a wax tablet. Then he placed the two ingots into a tub of water and noted the displacement before calling to a trio of men behind him. The trio calculated the density with abacuses for him before confirming they reached the same number.
"Everything seems to be in order," said the clerk as he wrote down the final measurements on paper with a quill. Pulling out a shelf, he took out stacks of imperfectly shaped gold and bronze coinage, weighing gold coins out. Another run of calculations later, he counted out the remaining bronze coinage.
"I am exchanging your ingots for 54 grams in weight of gold coins with approximately 97 parts of a hundred purity, so 12 solidi. The remaining 3/5ths of a solidus I've converted into 252 bronze folles. There are 420 folles to a solidus." He pointed to a chart of coinage on the table showing the compared values of the solidus, follis, and nummus coins. The clerk separated 2 solidi from the pile. "1 solidus for 2 hours of docking for a light-galley sized ship, another for pilot services both ways. Agreed?"
Vlad made some mental calculations and estimated that a follis was worth about a bit more than a US dime, so their expenses were just above $84. "Agreed."
The clerk put away the deductions as Ammonius brought out a parchment from the back. The clerk took and stamped it with a large wooden block. "Then our business is done. This is your receipt. Your ship's crew must present it to the harbour master before they can undock. You may take your coins and go about your day."
As Ammonius joined them, William pocketed the receipt in his jacket and roughly partitioned the coins into two leather currency pouches. They all headed out back to the rest of the party.
"You took a while," commented Patricia Sullivan once they were within talking distance as the other waiting team members prepared to move.
"We had to wait for four other groups to get their coins exchanged, and one group spent a long time arguing with the Lourians over how much pearls are worth as evidently they only used pearls as currency. There were three people with abacuses to triple-check every calculation involved," explained William. He handed over a currency pouch to her. "This is yours."
He quickly walked over to Chief Gimbal and handed over the receipt. "And this is for you to show to the harbour folks before you leave."
William addressed everyone else. "Let's get moving already. Time's ticking before we'll be forced to pay for an extra hour of docking."
The entourage headed south past the harbour office to a crowd in front of the customs screening point. Customs officers were staffed from across Concordat signatories, so their varied uniforms were unified by a four-star-ringed emblem armband tied near the shoulder. One of them waved the group and their luggage into the far right of four lines.
Someone shouted, "Be prepared to present your luggage for inspection!"
Vlad took the time to look at the nearby signs as he waited. One sign had pictograms of various objects that required declaration like plants and guns. Unlike on customs signage he had seen at international airports back on Earth, there was no pictogram of any knives. Another detailed the requirement to declare and pay import duties on goods meant to be sold.
A customs officer dressed in what Vlad recognized as the uniform of the Parpaldian navy walked up to them. "Are you all together?" he asked in accented Lourin, motioning across the group.
"Yes," replied Vlad.
"Anything to declare?"
"No." The Marines providing security only brought along their knife bayonets. They would acquire guns when they met up with the Muans in the compound they stayed in.
The officer walked up to a Marine with a three-foot-long wooden box secured to his pack and waved a wand with a round faint flickering gem over it. He pointed at the box, "Open it up."
The Marine knew enough Lourin to obey the command without Vlad's translation. Inside the box was another wooden box made from fine wood. Inside that revealed a US Marine ceremonial sabre. The customs officer picked it up by the scabbard, unsheathed the sabre, then looked into the scabbard. He grunted and sheathed the sabre back before handing it back over to the Marine.
The customs officer walked and waved his wand over some more boxes with no change in the flickering of its magical gem. Eventually, he stopped and pointed at a smaller box from a stack of many. When opened, it revealed a bottle of Nappa Valley wine.
"For sale?"
"No, gift," quickly replied Vlad.
After ten minutes of randomly opening up their luggage for inspections, the customs officer finally seemed satisfied. He handed Vlad a red wooden circular token with the shape of a horse carved into it along with ιδ, 14, in the center. "After you all pass the personal inspections, this number, fourteen, will be called for you to proceed as a group to the interview booths. Hand this to my colleagues when you arrive. This lets them know your luggage has been inspected."
Vlad nodded. After the officer left, he felt as if something was nudging him at the back of his mind. He looked back at the red token in his hand. There was something odd about it. The horse looked perfectly normal. The numerals matched… Ah, the numerals weren't Roman at all. They were Greek! ιδ instead of ⅩⅣ. His mind started swimming. Thus far, from what they had learned, the Lourin spoken and written by the Lourians matched the Latin language. There were no indications they were using Greek.
The group was called up by a duo of human customs officers, one Lourian and one Milishial. Everyone was instructed to pass between two metal poles evenly lined with the same shape and colour of gems as on the wands. Nothing was triggered, so everyone was waved on through without stopping, given a differently coloured token, and then redirected back to where the luggage pile was.
As he passed through the poles, Vlad asked the Lourian customs officer, "Boró na káno mia erótisi?"
"Da veniam?" responded the man. The other officer showed no signs of understanding.
Greek truly wasn't known here. "Sit quaestio peto?" asked Vlad, translating 'May I ask a question' from Greek to Latin.
"Sure."
"What are these numerals written in?"
"Lourin numerals. They're different from Sorcerous numerals. That reads as fourteen."
"Are the letters X, I, and V not used at all?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hold on a second," interjected the Milishial officer. "Are you talking about ⅩⅣ as the set of numerals representing fourteen?"
"Yes."
"Ah, I can clear your confusion then," said the Milishial. "Those numerals are Old Pagandan numerals. They've never been used here in Louria."
"Old Pagandan?"
"Old Pagandan is what we call the original language used by the peoples of Inertia and Paganda before their languages split into its three descendent languages of Inertish, Pagandan, and Lourin. The Ancient Sorcerors brought the first humans to the Central Continent from there. There, in resistance to adopting Sorcerous numerals, these Old Pagandan-speaking people developed today's Lourin numerals as an alternative and made different numerals for each number to better match the features of Sorcerous and Elven numerals. I think they overdid it though by giving each multiple of ten a numeral instead of just repeating single digits. For example, instead of '30' you have 'λ'.
Out of all three descendant languages, today's Lourin is the most unchanged from Old Pagandan. The reason is not confirmed, but I remember reading that the currently favoured theory suggests the adoption and propagation of spoken and written Lourin by elven and dwarfen traders as a neutral trade language resulted in a higher rate of literacy amongst the general population compared to the Second Civilization Area. This assumes literacy has a stabilizing influence on languages."
"I see now," nodded Vlad. He noted that the Lourian's eyes had glazed over during the Milishial man's discussion on Lourin linguistic conservatism. Evidently, the Lourian had no interest in even his own cultural history.
"Please go back to your group," ordered the Lourian.
As Vlad walked back, he heard the Lourian talk to his Milishial colleague. "How did you end up here with all that learning in your head? I don't understand how you foreigners all get stuck with this job."
"That's because unlike you Lourians, everyone else needs to have gone to school and completed some additional education about Rodenius to even work here in customs. How else would we have learned to speak to you in the first place?"
"Simple. Get a Lourian lover to teach you. You'll learn quickly."
With about twenty-five minutes remaining, Vlad and the rest of the group were finally called to the interview booths.
The booths were simply tables staffed by three officers each underneath a large wooden pavilion. Unlike with the inspections, it appeared all at the booths were Lourian. Beyond was a set of spear and shield-armed Lourian soldiers guarding the open main gate of the walls separating the harbour from the rest of the city.
One of the tired-looking officers at their table greeted them. "How many in your group?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Country of origin?"
"All of us are from the United States of America."
"Purpose of trip?"
"Diplomatic mission."
The officer raised an eyebrow.
"Where are you staying?"
"Magna Quercus Residentiae." The Great Oak Residence.
The officer raised his hand, which triggered one of his two colleagues to get up and leave the table.
"The former Qua-Toynian embassy. You're in luck the former occupants recently vacated. There's no nicer non-permanent residence for envoys to stay outside of the palace."
Vlad slightly smiled. "Fortune must favour us."
The other officer returned with a scroll and handed it over as he sat back down.
"Let's see here… Joint Muan and American Mission to Rodenius?"
"That would be us."
"I see the Church facilitated your arrangements with the Bureau of Foreigners. 29 Americans expected for entry. You're listed to remain on the continent for up to two months. Is this correct?"
"Yes, though hopefully our affairs will be concluded satisfactorily in a month."
"Hmm, if you wish to visit the throne room in a short while, you'll truly need good fortune. A mission's entrance to Louria does not guarantee an audience with the King."
Vlad recalled how Liutprand of Cremona's second mission to the Byzantine Empire on behalf of the Holy Roman Empire in hopes of arranging a royal marriage was a disaster. Enmity resulting from Otto the Great's claim of successorship to the Roman Empire led the Byzantines to place the envoys under house arrest for 120 days. Eventually, Liutprand and his companions were received as dishonoured guests and dismissed by Nikephoros II Phokas. They were sent home with no horses for luggage and extorted by all who were supposed to guide their journey back home out of their gifts.
It was a good thing that at this moment the United States was probably not yet perceived as a geopolitical rival or threat by Louria. A delay from a diplomatic meeting would most likely result from bureaucracy and local politics, reportedly of higher complexity than in Louria's neighbours. Vlad suspected the actual organization chart of Louria's government, ignoring the ridiculous titles assigned to positions such as 'The Most Venerable One', 'The Supreme Venerable One', and 'The First Supreme Venerable One', was still much smaller in size and layers than that of the United States.
"We'll keep that in mind," he said.
A stack of papers was brought to the table, and the officers stamped and distributed them to each person by name in exchange for the tokens. "These papers serve as identity documents and are recognized across Rodenius. Foreigners are required to keep them on their person at all times when travelling. Failure to do so may result in imprisonment and/or a fine. You must be off the continent or have acquired an extension of stay by no later than the 20th of Ringarë."
That was December 20, a few days over two months from today, and if they kept to schedule enough time to return to the United States for Christmas. "We understand."
"An agent from the Bureau of Foreigners will be waiting beyond the gates behind us to escort you to your accommodations. You may now pass. Welcome to Louria."
As the group took a few moments to pick up the luggage again and begin passing through the gate, Vlad spent a few glances examining the coloured ring patterns on the shields of the guards before finally passing through the wall.
As the last person passed through, a man quickly walked up to them. "Need carts for your luggage? We can transport them to your accommodations for a fair fee." He pointed at a whole line of empty carts, donkeys, and their handlers waiting on the side of the street.
Before Vlad could translate to William and Patricia, another voice responded, "Wait a moment, Eufasius. Perhaps these people are under my charge."
Three men walked across the street towards them, dressed in wide silver tunics over brown robes that ended in red skirts over silver leggings and light brown boots. The two men on the flanks carried swords in scabbards hanging from their waist.
Eufasius, the cart man, bowed to the man in the middle and backed away from the group.
"Are you the Americans sent by the United States of America as envoys?"
Vlad translated for the FSOs. "Yes," responded William. "I'm William Harris, and this is Patricia Sullivan. We are the United States Foreign Service Officers assigned to the Joint Muan and American Mission to Rodenius."
"I am Mezezius Hyaleas, Servant to the Logothete of the Drome under the Bureau of Foreigners. I have been assigned to attend to your needs while you remain in our great city. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Jin-Hark." He held out four fingers, counting from the thumb, to Eufasius who signalled for four carts to move towards the group.
"Let these complimentary carts carry your luggage for you. I apologize that we must walk to the Great Oak Residence as the old streets around it are too narrow for carriages. Horses for the two of you are available there. Luckily, the residence is only a few streets away from our Great Harbour."
One of Mezezius's bodyguards gave a small pouch to Eufasius as young men began collecting the crates from the Marines and loading them up.
"We thank you for your hospitality. May I call you by your first name?" asked William.
"Of course, if I may do the same."
"Agreed, then Mezezius before we go, I must inform our ship that we've entered the city and they can leave."
Mezezius nodded and waited. After the LCU was contacted and the luggage secured, they started down the curved cobbled streets of Jin-Hark with Mezezius and his two bodyguards taking the lead.
They walked through the tight busy streets of one to three-story-tall buildings made from all manner of stone, brick, and wood. Vlad noted the nonexistence of pants in the medieval fashion of the city's residents. Women wore baggy button-top dresses that obscured all form below the arms and covered their hair with light-coloured wrappings or veils. Such local modesty made Patricia and the other women in the American group stand out as Lourian men and women gawked at their naked hair. Some men, perhaps nobles or officials, wore tall hats with sharp upward-angled brims. Both men and women kept their limbs covered to the wrists and ankles, though Vlad could not tell if that was due to modesty or the slightly chilly weather.
"Excuse me," asked Patricia, "Are hair coverings mandatory for women?"
"No, but Lourian society views it as improper to be in public without one," explained Mezezius. "Modesty is valued. As obvious foreigners though, you will probably not have the unfortunate experience of being scolded by someone's elderly mother."
Several members of the group chuckled.
"Was your journey long?" asked Mezezius as they walked.
"Not at all. Though it would be much shorter if we flew here on an airplane," responded William.
"I've heard about these metal flying ships from other emissaries. Hard to believe anything could fly without any magic at all."
"It just requires a good understanding of the properties of air like with water. Have you ever seen one?"
"Only in art. Some of my colleagues have had the opportunity to see them fly at the annual Military Festival in the Kingdom of Fenn."
"Can you tell me more about this military festival?"
"Fenn holds a Military Festival every mid-Yavannië where they invite countries from around the world to show off their might. This includes an air show and the destruction of old ships."
"Mid-Yavannië…" September. "Then, I'm sorry to have missed this year's."
"With your nation's reputation for having big ships, I have no doubt you will be invited next year. I trust you did not have any trouble before you met me?"
"Not at all, though I was worried our ship would be fined for a late departure since they waited for us to get through customs. They got out with just minutes to spare."
"Our port masters are very good at estimating the time required."
After fifteen minutes, Mezezius led them into a quieter neighbourhood occupied by wider stone and brick buildings, though the streets were still incredibly tight compared to the United States or Parpaldia.
"Ah before I forget, do the two of you have experience riding horses before?" asked Mezezius. Otherwise, you would have to resort to a lot of walking like the rest of your group.
William motioned with an arm to his colleague. "Patricia's done a lot of horse riding since she was a young girl. I only went through a couple of hours of lessons just last month."
Mezezius smiled as he appeared impressed by Patricia. "We have instructors who can give your group additional lessons should you require them."
Eventually, he stopped at a solid iron gate. "Here we are, the Great Oak Residence." He pulled on a wyvern head-shaped brass knocker and swung it multiple times.
After a few moments, the gate swung inward, revealing a man dressed in simple tan clothes holding a set of shears in his hand. He bowed as everyone passed into the small front yard. Mezezius quickly pointed out the small stable on the left side before the front wooden double doors opened outward to reveal more people.
Upon entering through the front double doors, Vlad felt warm air over his face from a heating system somewhere. He looked around at the multi-coloured tiling of the floors and the landscape paintings that adorned the walls as Mezezius introduced the lined-up staff who managed the property. The man with the shears turned out to be the gardener. The reporters got some footage of everyone for their news reports.
With introductions done, they passed through the building to the other side and into a central courtyard surrounded by residential buildings in a hollow square. At the center of several eight small square plots of various plants was a large oak tree, the namesake of the residence.
Back inside, Mezezius pointed out the kitchen and dining room. He explained how catering services were available upon their request should they choose to dine in. All bathrooms were on the ground floor, so anyone who had to go during the night would have to stumble down the stairs from the bedrooms on the second floor. The tour concluded in the living room filled with small circular tables and armless couches on top of patterned rugs.
"One final note. As envoys, you must have an escort with you at all times when you leave the property. Just ask any one of the staff and I or another will be able to show you around the city. Any last questions before I let you all get settled for the day?" asked the official.
"Can you estimate when the King would be available to see us?" asked William.
"Hmm, the Muans in your mission will join you in a couple of days' time, correct?"
"Yes."
"If everything proceeds smoothly, the Logothete of the Drome should be able to arrange everything in about a week to two weeks time. Disruptions could extend the wait to a whole month though. Instructors will come to teach you all Lourian etiquette and the rules of ceremony required to be adhered to between now and then, so the wait should not feel too arduous as you'll have a lot of learning to do. Any other questions?"
"I have a question of personal interest," said Vlad. "Is it true you have an arena for chariot racing?"
"Indeed, there's the Hippodrome right across from the Great Palace."
"What are the teams?"
"Green and blue."
Vlad recalled that he never saw a group of people dressed in a mix of those two colours. "Which team do you support?"
"Blue. Same as the rest of the Bureau of Foreigners."
"Oh, is support based on occupation?"
"Mostly. Each guild in Jin-Hark tends to support teams as a group, often throwing their support based on their own natural rivalries. For example, the barbers are Blue while the surgeons are Green."
Vlad felt a sense of deja vu. "Are the teams associated with different religious sects?"
"No, why would they? There's only one Church here in Louria."
Vlad breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike in medieval Constantinople, there were no heresies adding theological conflict to the rivalry in sports.
"Has any violence occurred between the supporters of the two teams?"
"Ah, unfortunately in the past people have died. No major incidents in the last century, though that doesn't stop some Milishials from talking about it. I'd just advise your group not to wear outfits composed of either colour."
"We'll take that advice."
"Any other questions?... Then I bid my leave. Should you wish to explore outside today, I or another will arrive to escort you."
"Thank you Mezezius," said Patricia. "We'll see you around."
With today's business done, Vlad soon finished miscellaneous translations between the group and the local staff. Then he climbed the stairs, claimed a bed for himself, and fell into an afternoon nap.
Author's Note
Changed Lane's rank from Lieutenant to Mastery Gunnery Sergeant to fit the commanding rank of a Marine Security Guard Detachment