Bigger update with someone new to this story but introduced a few other places, especially in the epilogue of the 5-star reviewed “Ice Inundation Intelligence.”

“The Fallen” is gaining its own momentum. Part One was 3800 words; Part Two, 6400. To-date, Part Three is 6800 and not about to end for at least another 2500-5000. Maybe Part Four will just be, “rocks fall; everyone dies.”

*sigh* We all know that won’t be the case. I’ll keep on keeping on. I know I’m working toward the image of the girl in the swamp. It’s just a matter of getting there.

With all of these Russian demands, I realized I’d better put the map back up.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

Into a ground floor meeting room, there was a silver tray with a bottle and three glasses.  Lavrov poured a healthy measure for the men and just a splash for Saras.

“I mean no disrespect,” he added, “but am aware of what your kind think of alcohol.”

“I appreciate you thinking of me, Count.  To our empires.  And,” she looked to her husband, “our friends and allies.”

“Indeed.  To our health!”

They tossed their drink back, set the glasses aside – nothing was wasted on Mars – and sat.  A scattering of aides was behind the count.

“We have no objections to the Habsburgs or Australians being granted land, from non-Russian territory, but do not think for a moment anyone else, say, India or Mexico, will have a place here,” Lavrov began unambiguously. 

“I do not contest the second part of your statement,” Anton said easily, used to bold opening moves from their not-so friendly neighbor north of the town of Redding in Mexico’s Special Region.  “However, as there is no de jure settlement of settlements, why don’t you move to your second demand?  Excuse me, your second point.”

At home, Saras was an open, loving person; at work, polite and professional.  Now, her face and body demonstrated no emotions at all.  Only androids had perfect control, and some demis did it better than her, but she would give these humans nothing to use against her, her man, or the imperium.

“Then,” the count was now a bit off balance, she saw.  She hoped Anton did, too.  “Point two:  Arabia Terra shall be considered de facto Russian territory, beginning now.  A final settlement with Japan may be negotiated.”

“May I have some hot tea?” Anton asked from nowhere.

“What?  Certainly.” Lavrov gestured to an aide behind him.

“Point three,” he continued once three glasses were set down.  “The southern border of Russian territory will be the northern shore of the Argyre Sea…”

“Just some kilometers from Macon?  Provocative, Count.” He lifted the glass a little.  “This is very good.”

“Thank you.  Um.  Point four:  the western Russian border, extending into the Hesperia Planum, shall be decided by additional, but separate talks with the Japanese Empire.”

“Have you ever been on one of their cruisers?” Anton asked, as Saras poured him more tea from the samovar at her right.”

“What?  No…”

“Huge things; a one-hundred-meter sphere, armed and armored.” He took a sip and thanked his wife with his eyes.  “Bet you can pack a lot of nukes in that kind of volume.”

“What are you implying, Ambassador?”

“Implying?  Nothing.  Mexicans know nothing about space navies.  Just things like tamales and mezcal.  Tell me, Count,” he leaned forward a bit, “does your empire have cruisers?  Like the Japanese Empire does?  Then again, I suppose that’s none of my business.  And more points?”

“Err…” he was definitely flustered now.  Saras could see he wanted to end this meeting.  “Yes.  Point five:  a Primate of Mars shall be appointed by the Primate of Moscow in consultation with the Bishop of St. Petersburg and the Primate of Constantinople.”

“Now that you hold that city,” Anton said.  “Along with the help of the Imperial Danubian Federation.  Those Habsburgs you mentioned who just get table scraps here on Mars.”

Already on weakened ground, Lavrov said nothing.

“Will there be religious tolerance?  The princess, here, and I are Roman Catholic, as is Empress Faustina, herself.  We all know the Japanese are several things at once, Australians mostly Protestant, and said Habsburgs maybe a dozen different faiths.  Or will all that be stomped out.  At least in your possible territory, or Martian-wide?”

“Negotiations to that end…” the count began.

“Yes, yes,” Anton said diplomatically rude.  “It’s just afternoon.  How about we take a break before our meal.  Are we at leave to wander about and find our son?”

“While there may be parts of some buildings not available to you,” talking something concrete, Lavrov’s confidence returned.  “I can radio to find where…”

“I know precisely where our little princeling is, Count,” Saras said, her eye glowing like the sun.  “He is never far from my mind.”

Mentally off-balance yet again, Lavrov stood and gave a nod of his head, not offering his hand.

“One of mine shall see you out, Ambassador, Princess.  I have reserved a hall at one of our better establishments which overlooks the river.”

“You are too kind.  Come, my darling,” Anton said as they took their leave.

Out of the building, and clipping their helmets to their belts, Anton let Saras just a little ahead of him as she knew where their son was.  Not being a demi, she used the cameras about the town.  Behind an encrypted Wall for security, she was good enough to defeat it.  It was a whim of Reina’s to allow her to.

“Can you believe those are their official demands,” she asked, turning them right, seemingly aiming for the main thoroughfare.

“Russians are not known for subtle diplomacy.  On any world,” he noted.

“True.  And, I have to admit, it was the lack of subtlety which saved my mom back when she was in the Canadian gulag,” she grudgingly admitted, pausing at the wide road.  “Then again, that was essentially war.  There is no war here.”

“Unless we can reach agreement, there will be.” He held up his hand before she went on.  “Yes, I know, Aqua won’t permit it.  But there are many kinds of warfare.  Is that our boy, over by that fountain?”

Mined from local rock, the five-meter diameter circular fountain had been processed and polished until it gleamed like marble.  From its central spire, two meters tall, came a jet of water the same height.  With no wind under the dome, the few people nearby didn’t get splashed.

Facing in their direction, Anton Junior waved with a smile.  A man and a boy had been, it seemed, talking with him.  A man and woman, obviously aides, stood some ways off to the right.  The aides wore business clothes; the man a black skinsuit.  But the boy was in navy blue shorts and an off-white collared short sleeve shirt

Still some distance away, Saras abruptly stopped.

“Problem?” her husband asked.

“I… is that?” she seemed puzzled by something.  The man and other boy?  Just in case of an altercation, Anton now took the lead ahead of her.

“Father!” the lad called when they were closer.  “I have made a new friend!”

At that, the boy turned about while the man did not.  They both had short, white hair and a similar build.  Saras guessed they were father and son.  Until she saw his eyes over his smiling mouth.  Wide-set and the color of the original Martian soil.  He looked to be ten, but she now knew that was not the case.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, reaching to hold her husband’s arm.