“Felix does raise a good point, though,” Sam said.

  “No he doesn’t.” Felix shook his head.

  “Alright, but his point made me think of an actual good point. A real brain tease. Namely, the dynamics of this little group of ours.”

  “What?” Yvessa asked.

  “Think about it: by bringing Erianna into the picture, I’m making it way more complex. After this, who is what? Who’s the focal point? Who’s the redundant piece? Who’s the second most funny person and who’s the most serious? This has very grave implications for our friendship. Also… and I hate to say this, but a friend group where the women are the majority? The audience isn’t going to like that. Especially since there’s only one straight man for them to relate to. And that straight man is me. I’m awful at that role.” He smirked.

  Erianna chuckled. “I don’t think they got it.”

  “Ah… philistines.”

  “No, we got it,” Felix said. “It just wasn’t so funny. You have way better gay jokes in your repertoire.”

  Sam stared at him with narrowed eyes. “The gay joke was a misdirection, you know that, right?”

  “Misdirection for what?” Yvessa asked. “The sexist joke? Or the one about how you’re the funniest person in the group?”

  “Which,” Felix said, “by the way, a major unsubstantiated claim.”

  Sam sighed. “Screw it. You guys aren’t worth to have my superior comedic intellect dumbed-down for you.” He paused, seemingly hesitating. “Still, I would be remiss if I left you wallowing in your ignorance like this. My moral imperative directs me to throughly explain my—”

  “No need.” Yvessa held up her hand. “We got it.” Felix nodded.

  “Oh. Well then.” Sam made a sour face. “Anyway, to answer my own question, I don’t think things are going to change all that much. At the very least, I don’t think we would be forced to drive Felix out.”

  “You can’t drive me out,” Felix objected. “That would leave you the only guy in the group. And even if you didn’t have a personal aversion to that role—Owing to deep-seated childhood trauma,” he loudly whispered to Erianna.

  “Young adulthood, but go on,” Sam corrected.

  “Even without that. You can’t seriously expect me to believe that you would be willing to sustain a group of more than three where you’re the only guy? Come on, ain’t no way you’re passing the Bechdel test with a setting like that.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you want me to say? Yvessa can’t go, her status has greatly risen owing to our new arrival. Erianna can’t go…” He frowned, looking at her in question.

  She nodded in affirmation. “I can. We’ll just need two separate groups.”

  “Yeah… I guess you’re right. But that’s counterintuitive. It’s confusing. ‘What?’ the onlookers will ask. ‘The new character is separated from the main group? Consigned to her own three people subset?’”

  “Then the required conclusion is obvious,” Sarah said. “No one is unnecessary for the group. And no one is being sent away or split up.”

  Erianna shrugged. “Well, hold on. I’m new here. I still need to get to know all of you before I can make that decision. What if it turns out that I don’t like one of you?”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Sarah gave her a withering stare.

  Sam chuckled and clapped Erianna on the back. “Mother hen has spoken. Welcome to the roost.”

  Erianna shook his hand off her. “Nevertheless, I reserve the judgment to curtail my association with any person if do see fit. I have my reputation to maintain. And my duty to uphold.”

  “She’s joking,” Yvessa assured the frowning Sarah.

  “Yeah,” Felix said to Erianna, “probably best to steer away from joking about this stuff. Sarah takes maintaining the group’s integrity and solidarity very seriously.”

  “Then how come Sam started this whole thing by joking about the group’s dynamics?”

  “Nepotism,” Sam said. “I can get away with stuff no one else can. Because I’m a precocious little bugger.”

  Sarah exhaled. “He’s not completely wrong, unfortunately. Also, I have bad memories about the time when he wasn’t making jokes about everything and anything under the sun. So until those’ll wear out…”

  Sam grimaced. “Now I feel bad.”

  “You should.”

  Sam shrugged and turned to Erianna. “Well, this is it, then. Welcome to the group. Sarah’s the moral core and the glue that holds it all together. Yvessa’s the voice of reason and admonishment, and also the bearer of foreign knowledge. Felix is the gay comic relief character. And just comic relief in general. And I’m the leader slash reason they will all go down in history. Also funny man and pre-Integration references maker.”

  “What does that make me, then?” Erianna asked.

  “Good question. You can’t be funny woman, because women aren’t funny. You can’t take any of the other roles. I guess you can be the strongest slash smartest if you want. Most likely to succeed?”

  “In both meanings of the word.”

  “That’s good. Still no changing my mind on women and comedy, though.”

  Erianna upturned her hands. “Worth a try. You guys aren’t going to say anything about the roles he assigned to you?”

  “Eh.” Felix shrugged. “He’s not that far off. Plus, it’s not like the first time he made that joke. And he isn’t the only one to have.”

  “He just wants to show off in front of his new friend.” Sarah smiled maliciously. “I think that’s sweet.”

  Sam made a gagging noise. “You take that back.”

  “But that would mean lying.”

  “She’s right, Sam,” Yvessa said. “You’ve definitely been putting in more effort today.”

  Felix nodded. “Which, for you, is really saying something.”

  Sam turned to Erianna, gripped with panic. “They’re lying to you. Don’t believe a word they say.”

  She touched her hand to her heart. “I’m really grateful that you’re attempting to make my first day here so welcoming, Sam. Really, I’m honored.”

  Sam held his finger index towards her, jaw clenched, before turning to look at the other three, those damnable liars. “You’re making a big mistake.” He shook his head. “You know what’s going to happen now, right? There’s only one way to prove my innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt. And ooh boy… if you thought I was annoying up till now… You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  “So what will be the palace’s official statement about you coming here?” Yvessa asked Erianna, ignoring her impending doom.

  Erianna sighed. “It’s what you’d expect. No mention of me coming here because of Sam; the public is meant to learn that indirectly. I’m not even sure what they gave me is the final press release, but it should be similar enough to Marin’s in the end. Much longer, of course. And with more emphasis on my position as a soldier, and obeying orders for the betterment of the entire kingdom.”

  “I get that. What I really want to know is how they would explain your absence from your official duties.”

  “These are my official duties.” Erianna frowned.

  Yvessa smiled as though she were well familiar with that frown. “Your royal duties, then.”

  “They won’t address that fact. They won’t need to. Farris will be joining certain Chamber sessions starting from next week. Representing the Royal Armed Forces himself.”

  “Ah ah. And would those sessions involve discussions pertaining to the planned Terran military reforms?”

  Erinna shrugged. “I’ve not made myself familiar with the Chamber’s schedule.”

  “Also,” Sam said, “the official wording of the Sarechi military and government is no longer ‘planned reforms,’ but upcoming reforms or undergoing reforms depending on the exact topic in question and its level of controversiality.”

  Both women turned to look at him. “And how would you know that?” Yvessa asked.

  “It was in some of the homework Farris gave me.”

  “Farris gives you homework?” Erianna frowned. “He hasn’t told me about that.”

  “He hasn’t told me about telling you anything, so I can’t say why that is with certainty. But I assume it has to do with the subject matter of those readings and assignments being one so… disliked by you. Not to mention that this isn’t strictly something that should fall under your burden as my teacher or helper.”

  “Still, I don’t like the idea of Farris having so much influence on anyone’s political and bureaucratic education.”

  “Isn’t that what he had with you?”

  She smiled. “That’s exactly why I don’t like it.”

  “Well, I’m not so sure about that. Especially considering the hints he keeps dropping, and those you’ve made today about his actual political acumen. But whatever the case, you don’t need to worry about me being influenced by anyone. My political opinions, my ideals and methods of analysis are well formed by now.”

  “I’m still surprised to hear you talking about your meetings with Farris in such a positive tone,” Sarah said. “What about your frequent complaints about the purpose of your time together?”

  Sam shrugged. “Strictly speaking, this isn’t time we spend together. This is correspondence we share through email. Besides, you all know that Farris has been actually lecturing me for some time. Giving me practical lessons on what my life as an officer would look like. This is just a… more grandiose, further in the future version of those lessons. And trust me, Farris still deserves a fair share of criticism for how he goes about trying to teach me this stuff. The bit about the official naming of the reforms? It was a half-baked memorandum sent from the Palace to Farris’ press office. Although, to be fair to the Palace and Farris, they all know it.”

  “Half baked?” Yvessa asked. “Why?”

  “I was sure we talked about this.”

  “Does this look like the face of someone who has heard you speak about the subject before?”

  “I don’t know. People always look at me with pity and disdain, no matter what I’m saying.”

  “Sam…”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Alright, but I doubt I’m going to tell you anything you don’t know. So the memorandum in question was from the Palace, where in the Palace you ask? Why that’s the whole problem, it wasn’t clear. It was sent with the royal signet of her Majesty’s Private Office. But a quick check would reveal that almost all official missives from the Palace to Farris are sent from there, so that doesn’t tell us anything. And besides, surely the Queen won’t actually spend her own time on affairs such as these, same as Farris not getting word of this change until it was sent up in a report of his subordinates. So who wrote the memorandum? Who decided the official wording of how certain factions in the Sarechi Kingdom would address the topic of the Terran reforms?”

  “The External Ministry,” Erianna said.

  Sam winked at her. “Another point for me. Yes, it was the department tasked with, among other things, dealing with Terran affairs that eventually decided on the fact that all Sarechi officials should change the way they talk about the Terran reforms and how they should talk about them. Now the better question is, who actually followed the memo?”

  “Not the External Ministry,” Yvessa said.

  “Would you two smart asses please stop interrupting? I’m trying to appear clever here.”

  “Well you could get on with it,” Felix said. “We all know how it ends. The factionalism in the ministry, as well as the delegation of authority in the Sarechi Kingdom, made it so not only did the memorandum not reach all interested parties, but those that did receive it, were not necessarily inclined or able to follow it.”

  “Do you want to have a go?” Sam asked Sarah.

  She shrugged. “I don’t really care for politics all that much. But I guess Felix summed it nicely, no?”

  “He summed it up, sure. But not nicely. The exact opposite. Where was the discussion about the method with which the authority is diffused? The separation of powers? The organizational constraints? It’s all very messy. Anyway, the whole thing is moot because Farris’ actual assignment was to study the language used in the memorandum, not the way more interesting mechanics behind its production and application.”

  Erianna shook her head with a laugh. “You say interesting, I say who gives a shit?”

  “No, I also say that, with the full understanding that most people don’t. And that I don’t have to. Nor will have to.”

  “Never say never,” Yvessa said. “You could end up as the both the supreme military and civil power in the republic. Then you’ll have to do both Erianna’s and her brother’s jobs.”

  “Nah. I’ll delegate.”

  “Now that is something Farris is very good at,” Erianna said, pointing at herself.

  “He certainly aims to throughly use the both of us. And I have to give him credit, even if that doesn’t work out for him… This was a damn good try. And pretty out-of-the-box thinking.”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re making assumptions about things that you don’t yet know.”

  “But you seem to. And going by the way you’re acting, and what Farris said, I’m right.”

  Felix sighed. “I thought you said she didn’t like politics,” he accused Yvessa. “Why are we talking about this so much?”

  She waved him off, turning to Erianna. “Care to reveal your insights? Your and Sam’s?”

  “What are they even talking about?” Felix asked Sarah, who shrugged.

  “It’s about Farris acting like a hasty, irresponsible idiot,” Sam said. “But actually being kinda smart and sneaky in reality.”

  “Since when are you advocating for Farris being smart?”

  “Hey! Not once has any one of you asked me about the Punic Wars. So you better take a good look in the mirror.”

  “Back on topic.” Yvessa nudged him.

  Sam presented his hand towards Erianna. “The stage’s all yours.”

  She sighed. “Fine… So when Farris decided to show up here all of a sudden to meet with Sam, using the summit as an excuse, it wasn’t as idiotic as that makes him sound. Now, granted, I didn’t realize that at first, and chided my uncle for his idiocy, which I still think was well deserved because of the way he was acting and his failure to capitalize on his actions. But it wasn’t all that dumb. In essence, Farris used Sam as a distraction from the summit and the decisions being made there.”

  Yvessa nodded. “Ah. By going out of his way to meet Sam, making himself his mentor and talking him up, he gave the Moon-Sworn something different to be mad about. Instead of directing their full attention to the reforms, it was now pulled in two directions.”

  “Pretty much. Now, usually, when you’re making a move like that—which, by the way, is only noteworthy because of how big of an asshole my uncle is, and how big of a deal he made being my mentor to be—never mind. When you do something to distract your political opponents like that, you usually want it to be an act you can later backtrack. A future concession. ‘Look, I gave ground. Sam is no longer my mentee, so you don’t have that big of a reason to be mad about the reforms, right?’”

  “But since he isn’t going to do that, he can only go all in.”

  “By spending much of his time on Sam, and talking about Sam. And, more importantly, by sending me here. Whereas before, Sam was like a mild flash and noise, an irritant but nothing too horrible. Now he’s like a police siren blaring in front of the nobility’s face. ‘The princess is meant to tutor a lowly Terran boy?’ How outrageous, yeah?”

  “OK,” Felix said, “I think I’m following. Farris wants the Moonies to have something else to be mad about. But aren’t you just making them doubly mad? How does it help if you can’t backtrack from either the reforms or Sam?”

  “First, by making Farris give concessions in other aspects. For example, making public appearances. A little corruption to oil the wheels. Some personal attention. But you’re right, that doesn’t actually help the overall situation. It’s just Farris’ payment for his tutelage of Sam. A minor balm to soothe the injuries caused by his actions.

  “Where Farris’ plan really lies is by tying Sam and the reforms together. By splitting his opponents’ attention, he’s slowing down their ability to react and oppose him. Eventually, this will all come to a blow if he doesn’t step back or if the mood of his opponents doesn’t change. So how do you change their mood? The Moonies will never admit the success of the Terran reforms. They will never happily consent to similar actions being taken at large in the Sarechi military. But, the success of an individual is much harder to refute.

  “If Sam becomes a Ruler, a figure just as powerful as me and thus worthy of Farris’ attention, that would mean he was right. And since he was right about Sam, shouldn’t he have been also right about the reforms? They both started at the same time, so to speak. The elven public heard about Sam the same day they heard about the summit taking place in New Terra. Then, Farris sent me to tutor Sam, and officially, to study the Terran military education system and how it could be improved upon, and what improvements it offers us. A subject that is part of the… undergoing reforms.”

  “Of course,” Sam drawled, “this will only pan out if two things prove correct. First, that I do end up a big success like our new friend is going to be. And, that the situation wouldn’t blow up before I have a chance to prove Farris right.”

  Sarah frowned. “I don’t like that. He’s putting all that extra pressure on you for no reason.”

  Felix laughed. “More pressure than acting as though you’re the only person standing before the Web and total annihilation?”

  “What’s that now?” Erianna asked.

  Felix’s back shot up. He had the look of a deer trying to decide whether he was caught in headlights or just a plain old streetlight. “Eh… nothing?” he tried. “Right guys?”

  “Why are you acting so suspicious?” Sam asked.

  “What suspicious? I’m not suspicious. I just want to make sure that I didn’t say anything that any other person at this table wouldn’t want me to say.”

  “What?”

  “Anyone care to explain?” Erianna asked.

  “No, I think I’d rather leave it like this,” Sam said. “With you wondering whether I suffer from a delusion of grandeur, coupled with a paranoia that forces my friend to suffer silence. Or, that I’m… I don’t know, too brittle to reveal my delusion to other people? Is that about right, Felix?”

  “I just didn’t want to spread anything that was shared in confidence,” Felix said. “It’s not like I was the only one. She didn’t know.” He pointed at Erianna. “So obviously certain people haven’t told her.”

  “Haven’t told me what?” Erianna tapped her fingers against the table.

  “It’s about a conversation we had a long time ago,” Yvessa said, but not after sneaking a look at Sam.

  “Not that long.” Sam pointedly ignored that look.

  “I’m sure the timing of it matters just as much as what it was concerning…” Erianna said.

  “Well good for you, because I remember it exactly like it was about half a year ago. Ten days after my birthday, to be exact. Or was it ni—”

  “That isn’t your birthday!” Sarah cut him off.

  “You guys are stalling,” Erianna said.

  “I apologize for them, Erianna. But it’s nothing too important, really. It was after Sam first got here, when he was a lot more… concerned about matching up to his own expectations and what those expectations should be. We were talking about him acting as though his was the sole person standing between the Web and its destruction by the Epiraks. What he should do then? And whether his efforts actually matched up to what that role demanded of him.”

  Erianna nodded. “I see.” Her brows creased in thoughts. And Sam’s eyes narrowed. Was she reading into that more than she should? Following her uncle’s wild claims? Probably not, but best to make sure, right?

  “It’s really not that deep at the end of the day,” Sam said. “It’s just an implementation of Kant’s categorical imperative. You’re familiar with Kant, I assume?”

  “I’m familiar with your familiarity with him.”

  “That’s not good enough. But, no worries, you’ll be up to snuff in no time. Anyway, the first formulation of the categorical imperative tells us we must do stuff only if we wanted that stuff to become a universal law. That’s the shitty layman explanation of it. You know it’s shitty because it gets Kant’s point across succinctly. Anyway, according to that, I, as a soldier, would want to live in a world where every soldier—that’s actually the third formulation, but never mind—a world where every soldier does their best against our enemy. Now, what does doing their best mean? That’s up to interpretation, because it concerns practical constraints. But, the ideal best doesn’t. That one’s quiet clear. Act as though you were the only one standing between the Epiraks and their victory, and do all in your power to prevent that.”

  “And do you still hold on to that belief?” Erianna asked.

  “I do. It would be foolish not to. I’m devoting my life to a certain… path. There’s no logical reason not to aim for its ideal conclusion. But obviously, I’m not as beat up about meeting the practical with the ideal, as evident by the fact that I had consciously and actively diverted from ‘doing all in my power’ to prevent the Epiraks from winning not too long ago.”

  “Hm…” Erianna didn’t appear convinced, but Sam wasn’t sure of what. “That’s certainly an interesting theory, or an interesting ideal, I should say. And where do you two figure into this?” she asked Sarah and Felix.

  “Don’t you mean us three?” Felix asked.

  “No,” Yvessa said with a smile, “she’s well aware of my position on this particular topic by now. Just as I am of hers.”

  “Ah…” Felix nodded with understanding. “So I was even more correct than I thought. We really do have two of them now.”

  “Careful now,” Erianna said slowly. “You’re comparing between a royal born princess with a disposition that has been remarked upon and applauded even before it was known that she was also naturally gifted beyond compare. And this common street rabble who just confessed to not doing all in his power to fulfill his duty.”

  “Oh, come on now, princess,” Sam said, “you’re not that bad. Stop putting yourself down like that.”

  Felix spread out his hands. “See?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Polaris. There’s only space for one funny man to remark upon the social dynamic of this friend group.”

  “Also,” Erianna said, “you two still haven’t answered my question.”

  “What’s there to answer?” Felix asked. “We’re normal. Unlike you two, apparently. We do our best, but our best doesn’t include believing we’re the last hope of humanity. So our ideal best is not quite as good as your ideal best. But it’s good enough. Much better than most people. And we get by. Besides, if all it took to become strong was believing yourself to be a special little savior and pushing yourself to be one, there would be a lot more Rulers and Chosen, no? So who knows? Maybe it ten years’ time we’ll all be at the same level of strength, only you two had to spend way more hours to get there. What’s that called? Diminishing returns?”

  “Just for that,” Sam said, “you’re getting last place in my power rankings for the future. That’s no attitude. ‘Good enough? Better than most? Same as the magnificent Erianna Ninae and amazing Sam Anders?’ Get a grip, man.”

  “How come you put yourself second?”

  “What do you mean? Ladies go first.”

  “Since when do you care about that if it’s not to make a sexist joke? Also, ‘magnificent’ is better than ‘amazing,’ I should say.”

  “I don’t think there’s any basis for your claims. They both sound high and mighty to me. If anything, ‘amazing’ is better because it doesn’t radiate that haute bourgeoisie vibe.”

  “Haute bourgeoisie?” Erianna raised an eyebrow. “I’m royalty. Literally the uppermost echelon of society. In what world would that description apply to me?”

  “In mine. Where the bourgeoisie took control of the means of production and symbolized the very top of the social classes.”

  “Didn’t you describe yourself plenty of times as upper-middle class?” Felix asked.

  Sam shook his head with pity at the fool’s ignorance. “Upper middle-middle class. There’s a big difference, trust me.”

  “Nah.” Felix chuckled. “Anyway, I think we spent enough time here. Everyone’s finished eating, yes? Can we get a move on? Erianna, it was very nice to meet you, but we have a workout to get to.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. “I’m coming with.”

  “Oh, I just assumed you and Sam weren’t finished being carbon copies of each other after having just met.”

  “Nope. I’m joining you. And so will, Sam.”

  “He will?” asked Sam and Sarah at the same time.

  “Indeed. I want to fully assess his capabilities. That means a full workload. Besides, he never once missed your daily workouts. I’d hate to be the reason for breaking that streak.”

  “Damn,” Sam muttered. “That’s a good point.”

  “Farris taught me how best to manipulate you.”

  Sam bared his teeth at her, his face distorting into exaggerated anger, the exact opposite of Sarah’s non-exaggerated beaming face. “That great!” she said and stood up in a flash. “Let’s go already.”

  “I reserve the right to grumble contentiously through this entire evening,” Sam said as he stood up reluctantly, the last to do so. “You’re going to hear my bellyaching, this I promise you. Not to mention, the great distortion you’ve just caused to my schedule.”

  “Oh, stop your whining, big baby,” Yvessa said. “You’re already ahead of the schedule because you had started reading the history textbook you weren’t supposed to.”

  “And you weren’t supposed to tell them about that,” Sam said as Sarah shook her head in disapproval and Felix mouthed, called it.

  “I never met you and I already knew you were going to lose that bet before Farris told me that you broke your promise to pace yourself,” Erianna said.

  “He also wasn’t supposed to tell people about that!”

  “Hey, chin up.” Felix laughed. “You’ll have the opportunity to lay into both of them this Saturday. Since it’s pretty much a given who’s going to be present on your next call, right?”

  “Oh goody!” Sam rubbed his hands together. “Uncle and niece together at last. I wonder who I’m going to help make fun of the other.”

  “How do you know we aren’t going to join forces and make fun of you?” Erianna asked.

  “Simple, royals are conniving little bastards who would do anything in their power to survive. They know better than anyone how to recognize power imbalance. Meaning you’ll both know that, even together, you wouldn’t be able to stand up against me. So your only choice would be to band with me against your own kind in a true royal fashion. Also, I’m giving myself another point because you just admitted you’re going to stay here until Saturday.”

  “Shouldn’t you take a point away because your whole joke was about being so annoying you’ll drive me away?”

  “What? Me, make jokes about people not being able to stand me? That doesn’t sound like me.”