LeCun pushed up his glasses, then folded his hands into his lap. He didn’t make eye contact and spoke with a professor’s cadence. “Appalachia hasn’t maintained a large army. We rely more on technology than numbers. However, since the Dominion Party’s rise in the Republic, the Oligarchy has grown concerned. We may choose to isolate ourselves, but we remain aware of what is going on in the wider world.”
“Nobody threatened you,” Irons said.
“You didn’t threaten us either,” Azaleen interjected. “You just invaded. If not for my intelligence operators, we’d have had no warning at all.”
“Please,” Tamsin said. “Let’s return to Prime Minister LeCun. It is his turn to speak.”
LeCun nodded to her. “Thank you, Arbiter. As I was saying, to secure our national defense, our scientists have been working on a project to manufacture mechanical soldiers. While the units were being tested, something went wrong. I am embarrassed to say that we lost control of them—briefly—during which time they marched south to Stonevale and engaged your armies. We immediately assigned our top programmers to correct the error. As soon as we regained control, the units were withdrawn. I assure you, Appalachia had no aggressive intent. I offer our sincerest apologies for any damage or loss of life caused by our machines.”
“I appreciate that,” Irons said, the snark returning to his tone, “but sorry isn’t good enough. Your robots killed hundreds of my soldiers. I have grieving widows and parents who want compensation.”
“I understand,” he said meekly, and swallowed. “Our government doesn’t hoard money.”
“Ah, but you do hoard knowledge!” Irons sat back with a smug grin. “Like those laser rifles. Am I right, Queen Frost?” He looked to her for collaboration. It was an intriguing idea.
“Your mechanical units used handheld laser rifles,” Azaleen confirmed. “Our scientists are examining some now, but our current technology is not on par with yours.”
“And what about the robots themselves?” Irons asked.
“The AlgonCree don’t care about soulless tin soldiers.” Juliette glowered, folding her arms.
“That technology is beyond what both of you can replicate,” LeCun confessed. “I mean no offense, but, without a powerful AI Core, it’s impossible. Now, the laser rifle technology …”
“I have a proposal,” Irons said, a grin crossing his face. “You could share the blueprints for those, how to power them, how to manufacture them. Then, all our nations would gain an even playing field when it comes to military-grade lasers. My man, Dr. Venz, has been working on some bulky laser cannons, but hasn’t perfected them. They overheat and go boom. Your rifles don’t blow up, killing their operators, do they?”
“No, certainly not.” LeCun looked horrified. “They have a built-in cooling system. I suppose, as a measure of good faith, we can share that technology with all of you—even your Confederacy, if you wish, Ms. Redfern. True, we would lose one advantage, but there is merit in a more even playing field.”
“What do you think, Queen Frost? High Chief?” Irons raised his brows, his eyes brightening with hope.
Azaleen didn’t want to agree with anything that racist, misogynistic, ash-breather had to say, yet, on this point …
“Our mutual security would benefit if we all possessed the same superior weapons,” she heard herself say.
Juliette eyed him suspiciously, yet agreed. “Who can argue with the power of the sun?”
“Then, may I write into the formal agreement that Appalachia will share all specifications, diagrams, and instructions on how to create a functional laser rifle with the other parties in exchange for a hold-harmless clause regarding their wayward robots?” Tamsin passed her gaze around the circle, awaiting their responses.
The leaders exchanged glances, weighing each other’s sincerity, then agreed.
“Now, President Irons,” the mediator said in a steady, professional manner. “Let’s return to the purpose of this meeting, which I believe you haven’t shared yet.”
“Well, now,” Irons began defensively, trying to appear humble. “I do want peace. Doesn’t everyone want peace? I mean, really, at the end of the day—”
“Out with it already, man,” groaned LeCun.
“We have a new common enemy,” he stated dramatically. “Less than a week ago, a massive army crossed the Grand River and invaded the Republic. I’m talking over a hundred thousand strong, with land vehicles and huge airships.”
“Ah.” Azaleen felt her harsh judgment of Irons vindicated. “And how does that make you feel, Mr. President?”
“Scared, quite frankly,” he admitted. This time, she detected no guile, no pretense in his words. “And you should be too. My intelligence team believes they are the Anáhuac Federation, reborn and reenergized. I’m told that once, centuries ago, they built an advanced civilization on the continent, and that their prophecies claimed one day they would reclaim it. We all know that the Great War practically ignored their land, thinking them of little consequence, while our cities and ports were bombed into oblivion.”
“What concern is it of ours?” LeCun asked. “My nation is across the Mother River, defended by mountainous terrain. They have no reason to travel so far.”
“Don’t you see,” Irons pleaded. “They won’t stop at the Red River, or even the Mother River. If they believe the continent should be theirs—”
“The way your Manifest Destiny claims it should be yours?” Juliette questioned.
“I can’t help what people believe,” Irons said. “I never intended to take over the continent.”