Manifest Fantasy - 18 Defection

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—

Somewhere in Sofius

In a room dark as night, a man peeked through curtains on a window, watching the celebrations on the street below. The citizens of Sofius were celebrating their recent victory against the Nobians, parading around the city and giving gifts to newly arrived American soldiers, who humbly refused most of them.

Director Tempos sighed in frustration; he had failed Emperor Novus not once, with the North Grenden Plains massacre, but twice, with his failure at Sofius. Surely, if he reported back to his emperor he would promptly be executed for incompetence. For him, it felt as if the world was falling apart. He wanted to serve the Nobian Empire, but he had always felt that Emperor Novus was a subpar leader. Novus was way too obsessed with continuing his forefathers’ work: to eliminate the Sonaran peoples. On the other hand, Tempos merely wished to see the prosperity of his fellow countrymen. The Sonarans, whether they existed or not, were of no concern to this goal.

Novus’ ego led to great victories against the Sonarans in the opening months of the war, but his pride would be the downfall of his nation. Emboldened by these victories, Novus and his war hawk lackeys underestimated the American forces. Even with the massive defeat on the North Grenden Plains, they still would not reevaluate their strategies. Only when the Nobian people are dead would the emperor finally see the error of his ways. Because of this, Tempos decided to put an end to this madness; the lives of his people were worth more than an insane emperor’s pride.

Tempos unveiled the curtains on the window before beginning to pack. The sunlight streamed through and lit up the room, freshening the atmosphere. This would mark a new chapter in the Nobian Empire’s history.

—

Tempos walked down a street, following a sand-colored metal carriage that was currently being surrounded by grateful Sonarans. As he walked, he inspected the metal carriage. It was similar to the ones reported by the subordinates who botched the ransom mission in Sorn. Thinking back, he remembered his time in Mekkan, and remembered seeing the metal carriages there. The Mekkans back then had just recently unveiled their machine, calling it an ‘automobile’ or ‘car’. The American cars seemed to be larger and more effective in terms of transportation, although he did realize that the only American vehicles he had seen were ones designed for war. Still, the discrepancies between the American and Mekkanese vehicles were wholly evident, and implied a greater understanding of science amongst the American engineers.

He also remembered seeing the flying machines as they thundered past his hideout, and hearing the explosions off to the distance. The explosions created by these machines were so massive that they could rival even the most powerful weapons present in the Divinian arsenal, and maybe even surpass them. If the Nobians had no chance against even the Mekkanese, then surely they would face similar circumstances against the Americans. As he continued to think about this, the crowd thinned out.

“Excuse me sir, but we’re going to need you to step aside. You’re blocking the road for our other vehicles.”

Tempos snapped out of his trance, and faced the dark-skinned soldier in front of him. How exotic, he thought.

“Ah, sorry about that. Are you with the Americans?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good! Can you please take me to your commanding officer? I have important information about a Nobian attack. I’m a political refugee from Nobia,” Tempos informed.

The soldier then brought a dark box close to his face and began talking to it, confusing Tempos. To his astonishment, the box replied. Such communication was common in many places around Gaerra, but this was accomplished through magical means. What kind of magic are the Americans capable of, he wondered.

After a short discussion with the box, the soldier turned toward Tempos.

“Okay. You can get in the car. We will take you to our base,” the soldier said, gesturing toward the back door of the vehicle.

Tempos stood there, staring at the vehicle. He did not know how to open the vehicle’s door. The soldier, realizing that he was basically communicating with an alien, opened the door for the Gaerran man. Tempos climbed inside, inspecting the various devices within. He looked outside the window to his left, watching soldiers setting up tents and strange devices. This must be a base of sorts or perhaps a checkpoint, he guessed. After they were finished with their tasks, some of them returned to the vehicle convoy in which he sat. With their mission complete, the convoy departed.

—

The ride lasted about three hours, during which Tempos asked various questions about the Humvee and life on Earth. He carefully worded his questions so as to not seem suspicious; he did not want to be mistaken for a spy trying to glean intelligence on American technologies.

While conversing with the Americans, his earlier prejudices about their peoples faded. The Americans seemed proud to be a nation founded on the principles of liberty and freedom, which confused him since he wondered how such an idealistic nation could exist. Their answer made absolute sense. A soldier he was talking to quoted a great man from his nation’s history.

“Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

The soldier explained to him that the Americans generally sought peaceful solutions, but were always capable of defending themselves and others against the evils of the world. To him, the U.S. seemed like a benevolent god that protected the rights of the innocent. The soldier further elaborated on his nation’s actions in the past, noting that while they weren’t perfect, they hoped to be a good example for the rest of humanity; a shining city upon a hill.

Indeed, Tempos was interested in the beacon of hope that the United States portrayed itself to be. In fact, Tempos’ political ideologies were influenced by Reformists, who had progressive views on the rights of people. Reformation philosophers were similar to 18th century Enlightenment thinkers in a way, although the movement didn’t seem to be as popular in Gaerra as it was on Earth.

He also learned that magic doesn’t exist on Earth. Initially, he was quite surprised, but then he thought of the Mekkanese. Their people had arrived through a portal on their continent before the portal disappeared and stranded them on Gaerra. Their civilization, like those of the Americans, had no magic and thus they advanced their scientific technology. For the case of the Mekkanese, it was a case of survival. Surrounded by magic, the Mekkanese had to develop new technologies at a feverish pace, and eventually they surpassed the capabilities of many magic-capable nations, even catching up to the Divinian Empire.

As Tempos learned more about the Americans, his fears for the fate of the Nobian Empire grew. The United States had a population of over 300 million people, which was as much as the Divinian Empire. If they had the same army population ratios as the Nobian Empire, then they would be outnumbered 20 to 1. To add to this, the immense firepower of the Americans would allow them to crush the Nobians, evident in the catastrophic results of the battles in the North Grenden Plains and Sofius.

Tempos solidified his resolve, determined now more than ever to help put an end to this bloodshed.

—

Fort Washington

“Please make yourself comfortable in the lounge. General Harding and Ambassador Perry will arrive shortly to discuss with you.”

The first thing he noticed while entering the American structure was the temperature. It was still relatively hot outside, and the night was just beginning to cool the environment. In the lounge however, Tempos was greeted by a pleasant breeze that circulated the room, maintaining a constant, cool temperature. ‘What kind of power allows these people to make a room comfortably cool like this?’ he wondered. While waiting, Tempos admired the design of the room itself, particularly mesmerized by the fluorescent lights above. He walked over to a switch that he had seen a soldier interact with earlier, figuring that this was connected to the lights somehow. The switch was currently angled upward, and Tempos pushed it down, turning off the lights. ‘How fascinating,’ Tempos thought to himself, mouth slightly agape. He continued to play with the lights until he heard someone cough.

“Ahem,” General Harding coughed, attracting the attention of Tempos.

Like a child caught red-handed, Tempos immediately stopped touching the switch and hid his hands behind his back. “Ah, hello there.”

“I see that you’ve discovered how our lights work. I’m General Harding and this man here,” he said, gesturing towards Perry, “is Ambassador Perry.” Perry simply asked to make this quick, tired from his trip back to the base. Perry was in the process of being reassigned to handle negotiations with the Nobians, following the previous battles against them. Since he was on a break, he was requested by General Harding to have a discussion with an apparent Nobian political refugee.

“I am Tempos, Director—” he said before stopping and correcting himself. “Well, I am the former Director of the Dark Shadow Agency. I have escaped from the Nobian Empire because Emperor Novus is a madman who has ruined my agency. It won’t be long before he ruins the country at this point. I seek your aid in restoring dignity to the Nobian throne, should your negotiations fail.”

“How do you propose restoring this dignity?” General Harding asked, curious about his wording.

Tempos explained that he wanted to plan a coup against the emperor. “I have a few assets in the Dark Shadow who are loyal to me. They know the location of the emperor’s imprisoned son, Lonad Novus, who I believe can be installed as the new emperor. The problem is that I cannot trust the rest of the Dark Shadow and therefore I cannot stage a rescue operation for Lonad. I am aware of your achievements in the town of Sorn and in the Academy of Sofius in rescuing those hostages, so I have come to you Otherworlders for help.”

“How popular are Lonad Novus and the emperor himself?” Perry questioned. He thought back to the events of the Iranian Revolution. If the selected heir was not popular, then the public may choose to overthrow him, especially if they loved the emperor. Even if the emperor was disposed of, he still may have loyal followers such as generals or other nobles who may rally the public against the new ruler. During the Iranian Revolution, Ruhollah (Ayatollah) Khomeini led the Iranian people against the Shah, and successfully overthrew him, becoming Supreme Leader. In the process, he abolished the monarchy and the last Shah was exiled from the country. If Lonad harbored strong political views that don’t align with those of the general public, then a more moderate leader would have to be selected, which presents a problem because Lonad is next in line for succession, as per royal traditions.

“Lonad Novus was imprisoned because he threatened the throne with his popular support. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue and instead would be preferred by the emperor. The thing is, Lonad had a lot of Reformist ideals. He called for greater individuality and power to the people, rather than the concentration of power for the emperor. He also wanted to establish a senate so that the voices of the public could be heard. The most offensive of all, though, was his call to end the war against the Sonarans. A lot of our people were starting to wake up as Lonad spread his messages, dismantling the propaganda that the emperor had instilled into our populace. The people used to hate the Sonarans because of this propaganda, but thanks to Lonad, the people began to realize that our war against the Sonarans was unjustified. The Sonarans were branded as heretics for worshipping the sun, but why? The sun and moons coexist to bring life to Gaerra. With only the sun, the whole planet would be scorched. With only the moons, the whole planet would be frozen over.”

Perry nodded at this, admiring Tempos’ logic and open-mindedness. As he listened to Tempos, though, he realized something about the Sonarans. “Ending the war and reconciling with the Sonarans would be preferable, yes. But, how can they, after all the destruction and death they’ve suffered through?” Perry asked.

Tempos remained silent for a few seconds, not sure how to answer the question. Then, he conceded. “We started the war for unjust reasons. We created this evil when there was once none. Because of this, we need to atone for our sins, but without further bloodshed.” Tempos sighed. “To be truthful, I do not know what we can do.”

Perry nodded in understanding. “That’s okay. That’ll be the job of Lonad anyway, and I’m sure he’s got something in mind since he wanted to end the war in the first place.”

General Harding then interrupted, remembering Tempos’ reason for being here: an impending attack. Addressing Tempos, he asked, “You said you wanted to inform us of an attack. Can you tell me anything you know about that?”

“Ah, right. The Nobian Empire is currently short on resources. The North Grenden Plains must be secured in order to access the resources underneath the ground, so as you know, an invasion force was dispatched. Since you were able to defeat the invasion force so easily, the emperor is now wary about fighting you Otherworlders and he wishes to avoid you.” Tempos saw the two Americans relax a little bit once he said this. “This brings me to my next point. I came to you as a refugee because I thought you were neutral in the conflict between us and the Sonarans, but I have just learned that you have entered an alliance with the Sonarans. The emperor does not know of this yet. I do not know the specific terms of your alliance, but I assume you will help the Sonarans defend against attacks in some way. Since no one in the Nobian Empire is currently aware of this, they decided to launch an offensive in the South Grenden Plains, about 100 miles southwest of Sofius. They want to access the Ovine Mountains in order to secure mineral resources for weapons manufacturing.”

“I see. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll contact the Sonarans and develop a strategy with them,” General Harding said.

“My people are not monsters, they are just guided. Please do not massacre them,” Tempos pleaded.

“I will do what I can,” Harding reassured. “But if they do not want to surrender, then that’s on them.”

Tempos nodded, understanding that there would be nothing else that could be done in such a situation. With nothing else left to say, the American general thanked Tempos for his information and left.

Perry stayed behind for a few moments, informing Tempos of his situation. “Since you’re a refugee, and we’re not allowed to bring any natives back to our world yet, you may stay here until we finish construction on the town by the base, or until it’s safe to go back to the Nobian Empire. Someone will come in shortly to bring you to your new quarters. You may visit the cafeteria and explore the base, but just be sure to not bother any soldiers if they’re busy.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Ambassador Perry.” Upon hearing this, Perry left, wishing the Nobian refugee a good night. Tempos, now all alone, stared at the light switch. He fought the urge to go over to it, instead thinking about the recent discussion. He needed to make contact with his few loyal assets in order to inform them of the situation, and protect them from Novus should they be targeted. While preparing plans to contact one of his assets in Sonaris, his thoughts were interrupted by a woman who came into the room.

“Director Tempos, I shall guide you to your quarters.”

Tempos left the room with the woman, who brought him to a small room before wishing him a good night and leaving. Not very spacious, as he was accustomed to as nobility, but comfortable. The bedding was indubitably of the highest quality, and was arguably better than anything available to even the upper classes of the Nobian Empire. The room was plain, having a desk near the bed and a smaller room with a handle. Curious, Tempos went to inspect the miniature house, and upon opening its door, was startled by the freezing air being emitted from it. Immediately, he closed it, but then reopened it to inspect its contents. He was amazed, finding ice cold drinks. It was the season of Sola, yet these Americans were able to control the weather with their science. He still couldn’t believe that these people had no magic at all!

After analyzing the contents of the mini fridge, Tempos selected a red can with swirling designs on it. They seemed to form characters from the language that these Otherworlders speak. For a while, he struggled to open the can, but realized that he had to use the lever on the can in order to break open a seal. Having done so, he took a sip of the drink. His eyes widened as carbonated goodness flowed down his throat. “This is incredible!” he whispered to himself. Tempos made a mental note to ask someone about this drink tomorrow. Enjoying the can of Coca-Cola, Tempos looked over to the light switch. This night would be fun.

—

Eana, Eanif Imperium Capital

Imperial Archive

Emperor Vox Evalion sat next to a desk, stroking his beard. He was about to retire for the night, but had received important news from a spy in the Sonaran city of Sofius. The war between the Sonarans and Nobians was going well, with both sides weakening each other. The spy reported a loss of a few thousand soldiers on both sides in Sofius, but there was something interesting about the Nobian losses.

According to the spy, strange men with ugly green clothing, assumed to be Otherworlders, came to the aid of the Sonarans and annihilated the Nobian forces. What’s more interesting is the circumstances of the battle. Apparently, less than a hundred of these Otherworlders, backed by a few Metal Dragons of varying shapes and a man wielding the Scepter of Axnial, were able to decimate almost 3,000 Nobian soldiers. The spy could not confirm any losses on the side of the Otherworlders, although some were injured. This was troubling, Emperor Vox thought to himself. His plans of continental unification now lay in uncertain waters, since he had not expected the emergence of a powerful foe. It is true that his own armies could accomplish similar feats, wiping out Nobian or Sonaran forces with little losses, but the fact that the Americans suffered zero losses was worrying. To add to this, the presence of metal dragons suggested Mekkanese influences. Perhaps the Mekkanese were testing new weapons? They did outsource production to Sonaran forges, after all.

Worst of all, this report corroborated the data sent by an observer from the battle in the North Grenden Plains. Emperor Vox walked over to a pedestal and retrieved an item placed on it. It was a recording device smuggled out of the Divinian Empire, called a ‘magic screen’. He fiddled around with the controls until the screen displayed a scene from the Nobians’ point of view during the Battle of Fort Washington. It began with a recording of flashing lights erupting the distance, while a cacophony of popping sounds filled the air. Although the quality of the video and audio were bad, Vox was grateful for what he had. He made a mental note to try to acquire better variants of this device from the Divinian merchant guilds. Eventually, the flashing lights in the distance ceased and a Nobian by the name of Colonel Novask rallied the main force for a charge. The Eanish observer stayed back, not wanting to ruin the video by running. His decision to get a clear shot of the scene saved his life, as brilliant explosions popped up in front of the formation, vaporizing thousands of warriors in one volley. Careful analysis of the video with the top scholars of the Imperium have all led to the same conclusion: because the attackers could not be seen, the explosions must have come from artillery miles away. The implications of this were disastrous. Sure, the Eanish armies could accomplish the same tasks, but being able to accurately hit enemies in the dark was something else entirely, perhaps even something demonic.

The video ended as the observer was surrounded by Otherworlder soldiers who aimed their rifles at him as others restrained him. Vox sighed. Why would the gods throw in such a curveball this far into his plans? Did they not wish to see a united Eanif? Did they not wish to see the inferior beast peoples wiped off the continent? He did not know what the gods could be thinking of now, but he realized that they had sent a clear message. His operations must be sped up.