Chapter 2: Wow! Another Inspection!

Watching the SRO (Species Rights Organization) envoy disembark from his aircraft, I counted the reasons why leaving isolation was integral for the future development of my species. Then after, I read over my mental list of other equally important reasons it was necessary to develop diplomatic relations with the rest of the world; and why it was such an honor to receive the attention of so many world powers despite the small size of our nation, not a burden.

Unsurprisingly, the list was so short it failed to quell my um-chagrin at this situation.

“This is insulting.” 

Zyl, my youngest advisor mutters next to me. Hopefully low enough to escape being caught by the gaggle of high-definition cameras floating above. Another scandal erupting so early before the fallout from the last interview could be properly forgotten would be uhh- unappreciated at the moment.

The unlucky group of advisors accompanying me on the third SOR inspection this year were picked after a truly epic game of rock-paper-scissors. Friendships were broken, allies were made, money was lost, and favors were traded. But a week later the list of ten stuck being broadcast worldwide at an event of national shame was finally picked.

I also contemplated sending a clone in my place, but the contract signed to join the world union required the presence of the country's leader whenever an envoy was sent down.

I suspect these conditions were made with the belief that sending an envoy would never be a frequent occurrence, but here we are, only in our third-year post isolation and my country has been inspected twenty-six times already. We're even eagerly anticipating the next visit before October!

“Envoy Nick! A pleasure to see you again!” I exclaim the moment the familiar face comes into view, moving in to hug him tightly.

“Igetis Cyl! The pleasure is all mine.” He replies, returning the hug despite his polite smile saying the opposite.

Nevertheless, the advisors around me copy the action with his team, two even going off to hug the cameramen in the distance, all wearing the same grin to convey how truly glad we were to see them all.

This unfortunate visit came as a backlash from my previous interview on what has now been dubbed crack-head candy. Although my advisors all confidently assured me that the interview had perfectly conveyed my care for my children in a way that would be impossible to be misunderstood; others living across the continent did not get that message. In fact, I would argue that they not only failed to understand the message but somehow learned enough from that interview that they had developed a false belief that I drug my citizens to keep them compliant. Once Again alerting the SRO on the topic of natural rights abuse.

“I assume you know why we were sent for another inspection, so early in the year.” Envoy Nick intones after the introduction, brown eyes flitting through the blue barriers that have separated my nation from the horrors of the outside world for three millennials.

Merely the creation of one of the four barriers had left me demobilized for over a decade; so obviously, they were one of my greatest points of pride. Although the population of my children did significantly diminish...and the few that survived could only be attributed to pure dumb luck; I am glad to have spent those few decades all alone in the void. Best sixty-five years spent doing nothing, I’d say.

“Why yes! Of course! Of course.” I shoot a wide grin at the cameras. “It has come to my attention that some of the um-words! Yes. The words I used during that interview could have easily been misunderstood by any of the good folks on our continent. But don’t worry! Really! Don’t. This visit is sure to placate any doubts you might ever have about the joy and rights of the citizens living in our lovely little community. Every single one of them.” 

And when I say I went all out to ensure the freedom of my children is never again put into question, I mean I went all out.

“Nyl, be a dear and explain our exciting itinerary for today to the nice Envoy and his crew,” I call over my fourteenth advisor from her important activity of grinning widely at the camera; A method thought of by my newly created public relations team, since showing such amicable expressions often expresses joy.

Like a flipped switch her once stationary body gains life and she hurriedly reaches into the pink core embedded in her forehead to pull out the presentation board stored in her storage space. The item as a whole is four feet wide and cream in color. After hours of discussions and input from various groups, the color chosen for the ink was sparkly pink for the small letter and glowing blue for the capital letters; while leaving every bulleted point to be painted in a soft pastel purple in order to fully display the colors of our flag. Every space available on the board was then carefully embedded with shiny little crystals to illustrate the affluence of our beloved nation; then all four corners were decorated with pink ribbons made from one of our country's most expensive exported fabrics to symbolize our national pride. 

Although a firework display would have been much less time-consuming and taxing on our finances, my design team advised that it would be better to bring out the fireworks at the end of the inspection when we are truly feeling emotions of joy, instead of at the beginning.

Zyl and Yyl reach out to hold the presentation while Nyl begins her explanation with muted levels of enthusiasm.

“Ohh-hh de-ar~!!!” She squeals excitedly, ”I can’t even wait to begin this marvelous wonderful road trip~! So many many new memories to make-Buuutttt! Our first stop for the day is somewhere we’ve all been to at least once in our many many years of revisions! Can anyone take a guess?~” Nyl turns to look at the inspection team in question but is met with blank stares. “Ooookkaayyy~ I bet you all secretly guessed it buuuuutttttt-It’s C’nL!!! The century-old restaurant famed for the taste of their authentic Clyldean cuisines!!!!” She points to the picture of a large pastel building in the first bullet point with her cane. “Isn’t that exciting?!!! Doesn’t that make you good and giddy and great?!!! Doesn’t it?! Doesn’t it?!!! I beeettt it does!~ And moving down below is a place that’ll make you even more giddy and delighted! It’s a trip through the nation’s me~mo~rrryyy lane!!!~~~ Gasp! Isn’t that so very exciting?!!! Isn’t it?! Isn’t it?!!!! I wonder what memories I’ll get to leave behind to nourish the trees!!! And even more ex~ci~ti~ng down the list is-“

“Wait! Wait a second, I have some questions about this list of yours.” One of the suited men accompanying Envoy Nick interrupts her presentation, taking off his glasses and massaging his temples.

“What do you mean by leaving behind memories?” He asks, suspicion lacing his voice.

That wouldn’t do. The whole point of this trip is to kill suspicions, not raise it from the dead.

I hurriedly reassure. “Don’t worry! Really, it’s all very harmless!”

“Yeah right.” 

“No really! It really is! Think of saving it as a video for your future self,”

“From your past self~” Nyl singsongs. 

“Yes! Exactly like that. It’s a gift of profound love. Studies have shown that citizens are generally much happier after seeing the memories of their lives before their latest revision.”

Mutters of disagreements arise from the crowd but I persist, “Although in your case it might be left to your next of kin, it’s a very important tradition in our nation that I’d love to share. And I had thought that since your previous inspections have all been very brief and concise, some time spent experiencing little aspects of our culture might…soften your impressions of my people.” 

The crew glance lifts from one to another,  all having silent conversations between themselves. After a couple of seconds, one of the formally dressed ladies with curly black hair steps ups, her lips stretching into a polite smile.

“Igetis Cyl, it would be an honor to experience such an …interesting aspect of your culture. But you’ll have to pardon my colleagues’ for having to decline on concerns of um-personal privacy.” She says.

Which is a reasonable concern to have with a stranger, I suppose. Nevertheless, a withering olive branch is still an olive branch at the end of the day.

“Please, don’t even worry about it! I’m just glad to have you all here.”

I grin at them before snapping my fingers to call our ride for the inspection.

I’m not offended they chose not to walk memory lane. I’m sure they'll change their minds after further communication. 

Surely, when we've formed a close bond they’ll let me enter their head. Ha ha!

=================

Our vehicle drove three hours through the sparsely populated valley closest to the barrier gate before reaching the second barrier. Then we took a two-hour long flight to the most populated city in Clylden, Cl1.

A title I’m sure would have been much more impressive had the number of cities in the country been more than three; and the difference in their population not stopped at a thousand. However, the time spent alone with the head envoy Nick and his two assistants Sasha and Creed from earlier; and their four assistants including their cameramen would definitely have been more pleasant had they acted less uncomfortable by my presence.

“Envoy Nick,” I try again, ten minutes after our previous conversation fizzled into thin air, “I’ve read a lot of your reports and my children are curious about your experience with food across the places you visit. Do you have any particularly memorable-“

“Why do you say that?” Creed interrupts.

“Say what?”

“Your citizens, you sometimes call them your children. Is it more of a metaphorical term? Like an affectionate name or…”

My head tilts, smile turning a bit puzzled. I thought it was common knowledge that-

“Oh! Oh yeah.”

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“What, it’s metaphorical right?”

“No, no. Not that,” I tug at my earring.“They are my children. I just thought it common knowledge since post isolation we’ve had a lot of media coverage on many parts of our history.” Too much, in my opinion.

“So it’s biological?” Asks Sonia, glancing up from her phone.” How does that even work? No offense, but your appearance is very...unique. According to your history books you ’fell from the moon and rose with the sun', whatever that means. Most people just think you’re an alien mind controlling the species you fell into.” 

And once again the topic of mind control comes up. 

Well! that’s certainly a bizarre way to interpret those words. And I’d known since I wrote ’em! But, no. I am definitely not an alien. My first children emerged from my core the day after my first evolution, thus the reference to the sun. It's like taking a nap but when you wake up there are suddenly ten smaller versions of you, bizarre! But I gained awareness at night, thus the moon.” 

“So where exactly did you come from?” She squints. 

“I’m not really sure either! Ha ha!” The void. “But I’ll be happy to know yours.” She shrugs in response and begins typing on her phone.

Maybe next time.

Creed hums in thought, “So you’ve been ruler for over a millennium now right?” A massive understatement but, 

“Yeah.”  

”You don’t ever wanna…take a break? Let the other guy rule for a change?” He asks with hesitation. An understandable emotion to feel when you ask stupid questions.

“Who?” 

”What?”

“Who is this ‘other guy' you speak of.”

Creed eyes the camera. “I don’t know. The person that’ll probably succeed you when you or something.” 

Ha ha.

“That’s funny.” Also a bit negative, to be honest. I don’t want this type of energy around my family. I’ll put up with indifference, but all the billboards we've passed saying ‘positive thoughts only’ were not placed there for fun.

The atmosphere becomes awkward at my words and Creed’s lips thins. He looks very uncomfortable.

“So what, there’s no one to take over if something ever happens to you?”

Well…not exactly. 

“There is!” 

“So then what’s the point of denying-“

“I’ll take over for myself of course.” I joke.

This seems to displease Creed even more as he mutters a quiet “never mind.” And turns his attention to his phone.

Although it wasn’t my first time interacting with the people sent by the SRO, it was my first time spending hours alone with them; and a habit I’ve noticed from every single one of them was the amount of attention they paid to their cellular devices. 

It's a bit unsettling to e honest.

Of the five hours we’ve spent together, they’ve all spent four of it on their phones and less than thirty minutes interacting. 

“Does your government not limit the amount of time you spend on your cellular devices?” I ask curiously after a while, breaking the prolonged silence. I don't appreciate silence.

Nick hums, “Why would they ever do that? Your phone is your personal device, the government doesn’t give a shit how much time you spend on it.” His words earn mutters of agreement and nods from his crew.

They’re probably not gonna like my next question, I bet.

“Then how does the government know your status if they don’t care about your cellular device? How would they know you need help without notification from your search history? Even biological trackers can be sometimes faulty depending on the physical status of their occupants, cellular devices can make up the difference and keep citizens safe all times of the day.” 

Our vehicle stops at a parking spot five streets away from the C’nL building, a large number of vehicles from other diners already occupying the closer parking spots. 

“….”

“Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything.” I quickly clarify as the tense silence grows longer.

“But hypothetically, in that situation, would your government not be predisposed to monitor your cellular devices?”

Nick turns to glance at the camera, brows raised incredulously.

“No. " He drones out slowly,"Not even then. Never-actually. ‘Cause that'll be ignoring your citizens' natural right to privacy. Makes it illegal and just plain immoral…hypothetically.”

it does?

“Of course! Yes, it does. Yeah. I-um, knew that. Just making sure you...ah-knew that too. Yeah.” 

I smoothen out the fabric of my sleeves, making a mental note to find out what natural rights meant.“Good thing I’m not your government then…ha ha.”

“….”

No one else laughs along, but! We’ve already reached our destination.

I think they’re starting to like me.

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