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Declaration of Existence of the United Free Pacific Peoples


Ovidsidios
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               He was not a man of tall stature. He was short. His robustness betrayed some thought of a stone golem come alive. Within his hefty hands he carried several sheets of paper. The sheet held creaseless in his grip. His olive complexion was different than the natives, the majority of whom were hazel in color. Despite his grey and white hair and fully grown beard, he never seem to lack the vigor of a man in his prime. His face is heavily beset with wrinkles, yet his eyes are sharp, his nose round, and his ears hide behind a half-shaven hair cut.

 

              He passed several military soldiers of the Plains Federation on his way up to a stage. It was centered in the middle of a plaza where buildings of historical antiquity sounded the square. The people of Hawaii had long been through a process of admittance into the global community. The country, once a simple agricultural and fish producing 3rd world nation, undertook a radical revision and modernisation enterprise that was suppose to take 50 years to complete. It would implement new roads, schools, harbors, factories, and science centers devoted to the development of technologies to further the self sufficiency of the country as a whole. Today is the 50th year anniversary since the country’s first push for modernisation.

 

              There was a feeling in the air. Tense anticipation saturated the square where people murmured and were taking pictures. News crews both international and local positioned themselves in front and around the stage, with photographers capturing history with each snap, and cameramen poised video recording at the ready. The soldiers of the Plains Federation stood on guard with guns at the ready. When the short  man reached the podium that awaited him, adorned in wreaths of the natural foliage of Hawaii, the soldiers stood down with their guns at their side. He set the papers upon the stand, and took a few moments to order the sheets and adjust the microphone. With a quick blow into the mic, he said,

 

            “Aloha”

 

            “Aloha” the crowd responded with cheers and whistles from the far back. He waved and motioned with his hand that he was to continue.

 

            “For all those watching whom I have not had the pleasure to meet, my name is Professor Kainalu.

 

             I think it seems to be superfluous formality for us to even begin with an introduction. We would say it is, un-Hawaiian.” He chuckled with the crowd. “But in truth this is a special day, a day where we look back and marvel at our accomplishments. What marvelous things we can accomplish together! What a glorious day it is to be Hawaiin!” He beamed genuinely as the crowd broke forth in applause. “You have every right to be proud” he continued over the uproar, “you have every cause to celebrate!” The crowd was energetic and brimming with excitement. He turned a page and rose his hand to command the crowds composure.

 

            “Even if we are not accepted by the world community, and our efforts are rejected, or subject to delay, to not despair. For we have come a long way since those days when first we lived in huts and complex wood works, or when we first met foreigners, what they brought to our country, what they helped teach our people. They can never take away our hard earned progress!” The crowd applauded, but were now in suspenseful anticipation of the results of the world community’s decision. He turned another page.

 

              He spoke of the impact of the medicine introduced to the country. Of the natural sciences and cures that have developed in merely half a century. The construction of the very plaza itself was the very hallmark of the country’s grandest project. As the country grew and educated itself, it became innovative, creative, and progressive beyond their original intentions. It showed the strength of the people, “and everyday I prayed to God it would never end. Yet with every end there is a new beginning.

               

              He turned over the final paper. “I am pleased to announce that we are now the United Free Pacific Peoples!” The crowd bursts into thunderous applause. “With the coordinated leadership of the other islands, we shall continue to progress forward as a free people, as a pacific people, as a united people!”

               

              The crowd cheered, applauded, sang the national anthem and then saturated local bars and restaurants with nation wide camaraderie, while fireworks were set off from every island throughout the night.

               

              The following morning Professor Professor Kainalu would sit down with the Pacific Peoples Council to discuss collectively the future of Hawaii and her people.

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Diplomatic Note from the Nordisk Rike

 

The Nordisk Rike and its people welcome the United Free Pacific Peoples to the world stage, and we offer our hand in friendship towards your nation, and are more than willing to give a guiding and helping hand in the building of your nation to new and greater heights.

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"The East Asian Imperium welcomes another Pacific nation, and looks forward to working with the United Free Pacific Peoples to ensure our mutual ocean remains prosperous and secure."

-Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Hoshiko.

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Professor Kainalu was enjoying the flowers outside of his home when he received a phone call from one of the council members. He debated picking it up, but settled on enjoying his garden some other time.

 

“Go ahead,” he spoke after sliding his fat fingers across the screen.

 

“Professor, you asked me to call you when we received messages of extra-national contact. So far those countries are the Nordisk Rike, The East Asian Imperium, as well as the Empire of Cascadia. Finally, Malta, Russia, and the Northlands. Shall I go ahead with the next stage, or shall we wait for more responses?”

 

“I do not think that will be necessary, madam.” He was speaking to his good friend, Dr. Lekika Kāne. They both shared interests in the sciences (whether it was social, natural, or theoretical), but Professor Kainalu was a general turned scholar whereas Dr. Kāne has since professed her love for the natural sciences since she was young. Prof. Kainalu thought it would be best to introduce her to the political arena. His motives were not solely for the benefit of Hawaii’s technological advances, but for her good as well. Even then, he still admired her as a person, and could not have gotten this far without the immeasurable help of the council in general.

 

“Go on ahead and prepare the invitations. Remember to go with the original delivery package.” Kainalu had slipped his aviators on his face and himself into his personally modified SUV. He nodded to his driver, who moved the car into drive and pulled out of the private parkway.

 

“Yes, yes…” his hands went in and reached for a notebook in his coat pocket. He popped the cap off with his mouth, and began scribbling down some thoughts. His mouth made out the shape of certain words before his fingers quit scribbling and both the pen and notebook were shuffled quickly into his coat pocket.

 

“Very good, I’ll see you shortly”. He tapped the phone marking an end to the conversation.

 

“Everything alright, Professor?” the driver asked through the lowered window that never divided them (since the Professor never rolled it up). “I see we did not stay in the garden for very long…”

 

“Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have died on the battlefield, Kai” He rubbed his head, but he wasn’t at all sad. “This nation leading is hard work,” he chuckled rubbing his partially bald head. The driver relaxed a little more. “You’re right,” smiled Kai, “and you’re only the council for [i]this[/i] island.” Kai’s eyebrows perked up, and Professor Kainalu inclined his head in agreement. “Can you imagine trying to lead one of those big nations on your own?!” Kai shook his head, and Professor Kainalu was left something to ponder as they reached the end of the dirt road, and drove, the rest of the way, on the developed asphalt towards the capital city.

 

Kai pulled up to the pillared entryway of the capitol building. It was more accurate to call it a fortress castle, whose most recent renovations converted much of it into a museum with a park exterior. Admission is free for all citizens, though seldom are all parts of the building open at the same time. Many assume this to be the work of the cleaning staff. It seemed only Professor Kainalu understood the importance of never staying in one place for too long.

 

Kainalu stepped out of the car and found himself between the square in which he delivered that speech several days ago, and the building that held those consequences. 3 trimmed looking gentleman approached the professor. Old friends from the war.

 

“General, I hear you’re quite the popular guy.”

 

“How many times have I told you,” the professor sighed scratching a tuft of hair behind his ears. “I am no longer a general. This is one of the reasons…”

 

“...why we can’t have nice things, yeah, yeah” replied the one who spoke first. They didn’t exchange much words, and all 3 followed the general into the building. It didn’t take long for them to reach the elevator, and even less time to get to the meeting floor. From there, the professor’s three friends parted ways to await his return in the lobby. The professor proceeded on to the council meeting.

 

Several hours passed, and the three gentlemen had sat, paced, lounged, stared, and wondered aimlessly for the professor to finish. When they had just about given up on waiting, the doors had opened to a bustling sound of side conversations, sliding stacks of paper, and briefcases being closed and locked. The professor was the first one out the door.

 

He motioned them to follow him, and they stuck to his 6 o’clock, instep, and to pace as they occupied the elevator and closed the doors before anyone else could enter. The professor looked miserable.

 

“Everything alright, gene-” inquired the same man who greeted him before, but he was cut off by the professor turning and holding onto the rail with both hands.

 

“Politics sometimes is nothing more than sandbox bullying,” he lifted his head, with eyes closed, and held onto the rail as if he were hanging upside down. “Do you remember the countries of the pacific, Jon?” The one who Kainalu had cut off nodded. The elevators doors opened to a private floor which was where Kainalu’s office was located. They followed the professor off the elevator and to his double door office entrance, but no one went in.

 

“Yeah, well most of them. I mean, not all of Asia, and little bits of the island. You’re talking memories over 18 years old. Why?

 

“The Imperium of Japan has been holding a Pacific Rim Conference for the past several days. Since our late emancipation, the empress has saw it fitting to invite us, despite our late arrival…”

 

Jon laughed, “Of course Japan…” Kainalu kept talking as though ignoring Jon.

 

“Sergei and Samir will be doing other things. Are you packed and ready?”

 

Jon stretched out his hand, “Credentials? Clearance? Invitation?” The professor, as though predicting the retort, had slipped his hand within his coat pocket and pulled out a folded parcel. “Everything you need,” he whipped the parcel back so that Jon, following it to where it lead, locked eyes with the professor, “including those very important invitations.”  “Do not fail me,” his eyes were stern and narrow, while his tone unwaveringly added, “or else you’ll ruin the party of the year.”

 

Jon snatched the parcel, not appreciating the joke just played on him. Sergei and Samir could barely contain themselves, fighting back smiles and snickers in an attempt to mask their own deception.

 

As Jon walked out into a car that awaited him in front of the building, the Professor turned to the remaining two. “You have one hour. Meet me down by the docks. I need to catch some fresh air.” They departed, and shortly after they were out of earshot, and very tall, slick hair looking fiend slowly, but loudly stepped out from behind a pillar.

 

“There is no redemption,” he whispered, cat walking up to the professor, “only penance. Isn’t that so, professor?” The gentleman walked with a vintage briefcase made entirely of rich leather, while the osmium handle matched both style, decoration, and parent material as the ring the gentleman carried on his right ring finger.

 

The professor ignored the fellow, continuing to stare off into the distance. His lips moved rapidly, but indistinguishably as if whispering quickly, or rushing a prayer. Yet neither did the man cease to circle him, nor his shoes fail to mark every step where it fell, as though they were seconds of a clock of death.

 

“I can assure you all your projects are going to plan. Although I am afraid I have found no alternative, the pacific ocean [i]will[/i] be set a fire, as was per our agreement. Yet from what I have heard, you’re truly taking center stage now, my friend,” he smiled admiring his own ring. He tilted his body towards the inside of the circle, yet never broke his gaze from the ring. “Do you know how much this ring cost me?” Kainalu’s lips stopped moving, and though his eyes were closed behind his shades, he could mentally see his enemy surrounding him.

 

“You’re uncle’s soul.” Kainalu didn’t miss a beat, and twisting his body with lightning speed, roundhouse kicked his enemy square in the temple. His body was a fluid motion of flawless execution, his arms tucked perfectly perpendicular to his gyrating torso. Though a stout, short man, Kainalu displayed extraordinary flexibility in this single maneuver, allowing for no doubt that his heel did not meet it’s mark.

 

His body moved without impediment, until his foot rested firmly, yet gracefully on the floor. His body was facing opposite of the direction in which it had started. Kainalu exhaled opening his eyes. The floor was empty, and all was still save the fading maniacal laughter of another bad dream.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Jon stepped out of the car that drove nonstop to the military naval base located in the major harbor on the principle island. The duffel bag had been awaiting him in the car, and he spent most of the hour and 45 minutes reading all the contents within the parcel.

 

Jon was finally dropped off in front of the renovated Pearl Harbor. The Plains Federation’s initial headway in regards to that long awaited project was one of the leading causes for the Free People’s liberation movement. The Federation provided the foresight, and the Pacifican people’s granted all the earnest support. Though the Federation agreed to abandon the project halfway, the act was an opportunity for the Pacifican People to merit their own sovereign autonomy. In the end, it only strengthened a respect between the Pacifican People and the Plains Federation.

 

 

When the car arrived at the security gates, he tucked everything back in the parcel, and the parcel within his full body coat. He was advised not to take any weapons, and so, despite every inkling of natural instinct crying out for him to disobey, he traveled the lightest he's ever traveled in his life.

 

Jon was greeted with the doors opened for him by two Chief Petty Officers. They both saluted him as he stepped out the car. Flanking both his sides, they escorted him up the country’s first constructed aircraft carrier, Liberame. At the top of the ramp, there awaited him Captain Moses. Next to Captain Moses, were several uniformed, high ranking officers as well as a slick, sharply dressed, “man in black”. He carried a vintage suitcase and an extraordinarily ornate ring. Jon had never seen this man before, but the very fibers of his being felt nothing but trepidity for this fellow, and swore to either stay clear or stay vigilant while around him.

 

He seemed to hate most his smile.

 

Once on board, he was briefed on the remainder of the plan by the captain as they walked to their rendezvous point.

 

"Welcome Jon, good to have you flying with us again" greeted the captain of the Liberame. "I take it you have a general grasp of our situation?"

 

"Aye," responded Jon in his native Australian accent. He tried to keep it nonexistent while on the mainland (but he couldn't help let loose when back on the seas), "and I take it ye kept her noice and neat, yea?"

 

"Aye," responded the captain endearingly. "We happen to know her Majesty has quite an extensive array of relays between her threshold and the mainland. So we'll be a little off our tandem point..."

 

"How fa?" inquired Jon as they rounded a corner and down a set of stairs to below the main flight deck. There they hopped into an elevator that took them the rest of the way.

 

"Approximately 1,000 km off our initial tandem location." The tension within the elevator peaked. The Captain did not like it anymore than Jon, and Jon didn’t like sharing this information, let alone the room within the elevator, with an individual who made him feel so uneasy.

 

“So who’s the newbie?” Jon asked completely ignoring the gentleman.

 

“Special interests group,” he replied ignoring Jon’s neglect. He extended his hand, of which Jon shook reluctantly.

 

The elevator could not have opened at a more opportune moment, and Jon, seizing it, stepped out followed quickly by the captain. He made no delay and, within one of the mobile transports, accompanied by the captain and company, rode down the massively large corridor towards where his plane awaited him.

 

“Just as you left it, with” the captain hastily added upon arriving at the plane, “those modifications you requested. Although, I must admit, many of them were impossible to come by. If it wasn’t for this man…” the captain paused, and squintingly turned to the mysterious gentleman, “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

 

“It’s irrelevant really,” the man replied curtly, “your fifth generation F-35 Lightning (II) has undergone the specific renovations. However, some of the modifications were not possible with the logistical schematics you provided. So I took the liberty…”

 

“You touch ma burd?” Jon snapped turning to face the man. His glare was formidable, but this man’s eyes seemed to sap the strength from his gusto, and for the first time in his life, Jon felt very vulnerable...and afraid. The man refrained from smiling aswell.

 

“It would be imprudent of me to call your engineering inexperienced…”

 

“Yet still you do…”

 

“...however, for certain technological adjustments a few physical modifications were necessary. But do not take my word for it,” the gentleman pointed his finger and though hesitant, Jon turned. From a distance those repairs seemed negligible, but upon closer review, there were indeed some significant modifications.

 

“For starters,” the man said following Jon at a respectable distance as they lapped the plane, “the wing span has been increased and the plane has been supplemented with an augmented  fiber for your desired stealth capacity. With that in mind, your payload, though capable of far more with the greater increase of your wingspan, has instead been implemented with an communications relay amplifier. It comes with it’s own encryptor which itself works within a prototype quantum processor. You therefore have a little more detail to your own personal radar since the augmentation device also amplifies your scanners, and your module comes with a topographical setting for your lower than necessary flights.”

 

Jon didn’t realize how informed this man was to his flying style, still, he ignored him.

 

“You’ll also note that, though you still have a single main jet engine, it has been divided into four sub engines...”

 

“You took the aerial strafing principle seriously?” Jon interjected concerning an old paper he jokingly wrote during his academy years. “Who is this man?” he thought.

 

“...actually, no. I’ve reviewed your training footage. Your skill is best left with a control column rather than an ink one.” The Captain stifled a snicker. “The four sub engines will allow for greater mobility on a 3-Dimensional level, although not as radical as you might think. Your navigation system will take your movements into account, and adjust engine output to better accentuate your motions. It is automated, a manual setting if you so desire, and of course comes with an off button.” At this point the mysterious man starts to take point in the tour, and Jon does not seem to object.

 

“This carrier variant will allow you for longer, farther flights. The technological improvements rendered are those concerning your active interceptor system, fuel and prognostic health management system, as well as your CNI subsystem. Your helmet mounted display is now multi-functional, and has been programmed to allow for several sub rooted informational displays including ADS (Air Data System), INS (Internal Navigation System), vehicle systems, mission system, and electro-optical targeting system. Your plane has an adjusted brake system for use with arrestor wires, but…” the gentleman stopped and turned to look at Jon who stood mesmerized at the impressive instrument that stood before him, “some things are better experienced than learned.”

 

Jon let his eyes fall slowly from wings, to engine, to cockpit, to landing gear, back to the wings before finally settling on the mysterious man. “How is it again you’ve come to work with the Professor?”

 

“I am an old friend of his uncle, and I am here to ensure their dream comes to pass. A dream of a united people. Isn’t that enough?”

 

It never would be enough for Jon, but for now, it would have to do.

 

“Captain, you mind if I take ‘er f’er a spin?” The captain nodded and Jon jumped back onto the motorized cart to his personal quarters where he knew his suit awaited him. The captain and the suited man took a separate vehicle and headed to the bridge.

 

The aircraft carrier had made it’s final approach to Japanese waters. Jon had accustomed himself greatly to the calibrations of his new flight. “I don’t know who worked on this baby” he thought during one of his final test laps while the carrier approached its drop off point, “but man this has seen some major modifications.” He kept running through the flights in his head, the landing and the take off, the maneuverability, and the new technological specs (the helmet was a little overwhelming at first, but he adapted quickly, and found the additions to his display to be more than adequate). As he waited for the confirmation to take off, his thoughts reverted back to the professor. Thoughts of struggle and sadness; thoughts that eventually lead him back to the mysterious figure, the suited man...the fiend.

 

“You ready to go?” came the clear voice of the captain from the command bridge.

 

“Aye” came Jon’s collected voice, “initiating departure clearance protocol.

 

Austin Clearance Delivery, Lightning One Eight Nine Yankee Romeo” the latter always brought a smile to his face, “with information India, VFR to target location, cruising five thousand five hundred.”

 

“Lightning One Eight Nine Yankee Romeo, Austin Clearance, squawk two three one four, departure frequency will be one two zero point niner.”

 

“Squawk two three one four,” Jon radioed in return, “departure one two zero point niner, Nine Yankee Romeo.”

 

After several minutes of readbacks and taxiing, Jon’s aircraft was ready for launch. Despite all the practise earlier, the butterflies were slowly creeping into his stomach. Initiating full throttle, with the assistance of the newly improved Electromagnetic Aircraft Launch System, Jon was in the air with both grace and force.

 

As his flyer departed from view, he received the last of his transmissions,

 

“Lightning One Eight Nine Yankee Romeo, radar service terminated, squawk one two zero zero, frequency change approved.”

 

“Squawk VFR, Seven Echo Sierra” Jon spoke back, and as the communications terminated he moved his lips to the same pattern as the captain, whose final image was the fading speck of man’s infinitude.

 

God Speed

Edited by Ovidsidios
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Back on Hawaii, the Professor began debriefing Sergei and Samir on their part of the project.

 

“I know this will not please you both, as you both have grown particularly fond of each other’s company, but I am afraid I am going to have to separate you.” Professor Kainalu kept walking forward while the two exchanged sad, but understanding glances.

 

[spoiler]

The professor had found Sergei in his travels abroad in Europe. He was an exceptionally brilliant mind, albeit an extraordinarily reserved person. Within their first year of working together, Sergei probably exchanged no more than 100 words with the Professor. The Professor brought Sergei in to work on geothermal heating, which evolved into a comprehensive desalination project, which lead to the introduction of Sergei and Kane, which lead to the unparalleled momentum of the Pacifican People’s  Future of Scientific Research Institution (P2 FuSR) Program that followed.

 

Samir, on the other hand was from Morocco. He spoke almost every North African language natively, European Languages competently (with the exception of English), and Asian and Russian languages controversially. He was a very skilled marksman and well trained operative. Sabotage, rather than stealth, was his main specialization, but Samir found the ability to excel in any mission provided the money was good.

 

When the Professor served a tour of duty as General before his retirement, he found himself lodging in a town not far from where Samir called his home. He heard rumors of a master soldier who was always looking for work. However, stories went that only those whom Samir would search for were worthy of his enterprise.Therefore, no one could search for “The Deathless” unless “The Deathless” willed it.

 

The General at the time boisterously proclaimed, “by the end of the week, I will have killed ‘The Deathless’ one!” and people were shocked by the proclamation. Surprisingly, not even Samir knew that the Professor had come to the town specifically to find him, and had for months prior, leaked information to that area in particular of his arrival. Such that, before he even made the claim in the bar that night, he already knew Samir was among the patrons in the building.

 

The pursuit was a game of cat and mouse. For every progressive step Samir accomplished, the General had predicted, and pushed him 2 steps back. This continued for 6 days, when that night, within the confines of a room across where the general was “supposed” to be, Samir positioned himself snuggly with an M40 he had purchased off the black market. A Zippo is lit in the room. Samir doesn’t move.

 

“This was fun, wasn’t it?” The general inquired lighting his cigar. Samir was dumbfounded, how did he not know he wasn’t alone?!

 

“Look, I am not actually here to kill you. I need your help.” Samir could not believe the words that he was hearing.

 

“Many of your contractors were conflicted interests in my campaigns here. They were crime lords, arms dealers, smugglers, and all around denizens of decency. I could not bring myself to wipe out my enemy on one battlefield and ignore one on another. You are unemployed within a 2500 mile radius, and this little mini project has broken your reserves.”

 

He tapped the ash of his cigar, and none of it landed on the floor in one piece. “For the son of well dressed servicemen and brilliant researcher, you have fallen far from the tree...Samir.”

 

Samir twirled, with a Walther P99 in his hands, but it was subsequently shot out by another person that was standing behind the general tucked well within the shadows.The General, didn’t even bat an eye. “You have much potential, and I knew your parents well. I don’t believe you’re the dog of war you’ve lead yourself to accept. Your parents wanted so much more for you…”

 

“What do you know about them!?” Samir snapped, holding his broken trigger finger close to his chest straining, but never ceasing to look at the general.

 

He sighed, “I am your godfather.” The silence in the room was deafening. The general let his godson take in the information while he got up and sat on the far corner of the bed that Samir was sitting on. Samir scooted away still completely shocked by the information. He slid him an envelope.

 

“I’ll wait for you outside.They’re yours to have,” the general left but didn’t have to wait long. A minute passed, and Samir left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He didn’t say a word, and his hair covered his tear besieged eyes. But no one said a word. After they had driven aways in the general’s Willys MB Jeep, Samir removed a detonator from his duffel bag, and ignited the building. It collapsed like a professional demolition, and the general looked back at the falling building, astounded.

 

“The building was empty, I owned it.”

 

“I knew that”, the general said a smile returning to his face as he placed his aviator shades back on, “I just hadn’t realized you had rigged the building with explosives.”

 

“You mean to tell me…” Samir thought realizing he had the upper hand the whole time.

 

The general just laughed, “I guess you’ve still got your father’s luck.” And the two rode beneath the North African moon to the base the General was stationed at before returning home to Hawaii for a more permanent stay.

 

That was 18 years ago.

 

Samir and Sergei developed an unforeseen bond, and the Professor never knew what to make of it. When the two were together, that is to say with the professor, they kept much to themselves, and hardly spoke a word to one another. But, when Sergei was working on a project, or Samir was out polishing his guns, or target practise, though from a distance, the Professor could see that the two would chat endlessly for hours.

 

One time, his curiosity getting the better of him, he asked Dr. Lekika Kāne,

 

“I never would have imagined that two complete strangers, who could grow so deep a bond for one another, have such indomitable discipline to not say a word to each other in public.” His voice was rather sing songy, and Dr. Kāne picked up on the intention right away.

 

“You want to know why they don’t talk around you, is that it Professor?” Dr. Kāne smiled behind the telescope she was looking through, but never brought her full attention to the Professor. He in turn sighed dramatically, “Well, I am just curious, but if you don’t want to tell me.” The professor made as if he were going to leave, and Dr. Kāne didn’t take the bait. She kept looking through her microscope, adjusting the zoom and clarity every now and then.

The Professor sighed a defeated breath, before looking at a poster Dr. Kāne kept, ironically, hanging on the wall next to her laboratory goal. It read,

 

“Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies.” -Aristotle

 

He mulled it over, catching the coincidence, but missing the deeper meaning.

 

“They are like sons to you, are they not?” Dr. Kāne said, raising her head at last from whatever it was she was studying. Now, it was the Professor’s turn to remain quiet and seemingly disinterested. Dr. Kāne stood up and walked over to a large, double set window that she used to give light and warmth to her favorite collection of plants (all gifts from the Professor). He joined her at her side, and they looked out to a private courtyard (that often saw the frequent walks of the Doctor. and Professor alike), and there, sitting at a stone table next to some exotic foliage and palm trees, the Professor witnessed the euphoric faces of Samir and Sergei exchanging words and holding hands. Two plates of half eaten food lay set aside while petals of the neighboring flowers were strewn haphazardly around them; whipping back and forth in the subtle breeze.

 

Dr. Kāne put her arms around the Professor’s shoulder, “love them then like a father.” He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it and said, “and you as though you were their mother.”

[/spoiler]
 

“Samir, I need you to head to Malta. I know you do not like to travel, and you will forgive me, or not,” the Professor looked back slyly before facing forward again, “but you’ll be taking a tour of the North and East Africa coastline before settling within the country of South America. I hope to still have someone there. This will inform you of the rest of the details.” He handed him a black folder that was tied closed with a small red string.

 

“Read it, memorize it, imbue it’s contents, then discard of it permanently. It’s imperative you keep to every step of the document when you get to South America, but most importantly the itinerary.” He swiveled on his heel and turned to face Samir who almost ran into him. The Professor looked up at the man who towered him easily by two feet, and his eyes conveyed the immense gravity of the following words where is tone may have been insufficient, “I do not care if you have to walk without sleep, or murder every vehicle owned you dare come across. You get to these checkpoints,” the tone of the Professors past military life had crept through, and Samir stood at attention unconsciously. Realizing the error of his approach, eased up and grabbed Samir’s arm tenderly. He melted within the grasp.

 

“It’s very important Samir, you’ve never failed me, I do not believe you will now. But…” the Professor hesitated, looked down, and shook his head. He would have continued walking, but Sergei laid his hands on the Professors’ shoulder, and turning his body to face Sergie’s own, who had knelt down to be at eye level with the Professor, said the most he’s ever said in his life (at least to the Professor), “what’s wrong, papa?”

It took everything within him to hold back the tears, and in truth, not a single droplet of moisture welled up in his eyes. “You know me,” he chuckled patting Sergei kindly on the face, “I never was able to handle stress well.” Sergei nodded, and stood back up while the Kainalu kept on walking, continuing his debriefing. But as children always know the honest condition of lying parents, Sergei and Samir exchanged looks that relayed equal skepticism to Kainalu’s response.

 

At the end, Sergei was told to see Dr. Kāne regarding the final touches of their desalination project. “There is another surprise she has for you,” and Sergie, like a child at Christmas, happily took his leave, but not before winking back at Samir. Samir mustered a twitch from the corner of his mouth, before averting his eyes to keep from blushing.

 

The Professor gave Samir some kind words of parting along with some advice, “Samir, I am proud of all that you are. If you were parents were here, they would be very proud too.” Samir nodded. typically. This wasn’t the first time Kainalu spoke to him this way, but no one is ever promised assurance of the future, and those who fall prey to complacency regret bitterly those moments they should have valued most. “But sometimes in life we leave one home and come back to another; exit a room to return to a different one entirely. When you parents passed away, you left a home of 3 to return to one of none. Yet still you returned. And when you were alone, I brought you here, and where once you had little now you have more. Despite your best efforts, or strongest wills, or most impassioned oath sworn, somethings are beyond us. Still, Samir,” he paused taking hold of his one hand with both of his, “no matter what, always come home.”

 

Samir was a little taken aback, but before any more words could be exchanged, the Professor scooted him out of his office, and Samir obliged though heavily reluctant. The Professor answered a telephone call, and began speaking to a representative of the other isalnds.

 

“Senator, yes, yes I was about to call you,” he put his hand over the mouthpiece motioning and wording to Samir to close the door behind him, “why of course I am still planning to attend your election ceremony. It would be my honor…”

 

As he closed the door behind him, Samir was left to ponder what the future could possibly have in store for not only himself, but for all the people of the Pacific. Holding onto the words shared so kindly with him, he unraveled the folder and began memorizing the contents within.

He would soon enter a car that would ferry him to the International Airport and take the first flight to the Mediterranean to the council of the League of Nations.

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