Emperor of the World
Chapter 2 of a fictionalized history of the future of a world very much like our own
Chapter Two
From Great Power Games And the Global Revolution, by Cameron Gregory, “Chapter 1: The Players”
During the "Cold War" period, the competition between states was ideological. In the 21st century, all of the major players accepted the same dominant paradigm of state capitalism, with the differences between them being more of form than function. The competition was just as fierce, however, as the modern nation-states engaged in great power games reminiscent of the Europan imperial age from roughly the 1500s through World War II. The Great Powers competed for global hegemony, with their heads battling to be the first emperor of the world.
While the Brutish Empire was the first "global empire", it of course did not rule the globe. It ruled areas spanning the globe, but in the context of a competition with other nations that rivaled its power. The States could be said to have been the first global "hegemon" during the post-Seviot era and many have argued that was the first globally ruling empire, but others have pushed back that while States influence was strong, nations like Roos, Qinwa and Europa had their own independence and areas of influence, so the States were merely "first among equals."
What the Great Powers of today are striving for is to actually rule the globe. "Global problems require global leadership," Qinwa Premier Qi Pingji said at a G18 summit meeting. "In these times when markets are global, only a global leader can ensure market confidence," former Senator and States Ambassador to the UN Warren Hampton told a group of business leaders in his then-capacity as one of them. "This world needs a firm hand to bring stability," Roos General Bladonov said in a speech after leading Roos forces in an invasion of neighboring Krainea.
What listeners did not grasp at the moment each of these statements was made was that these men were speaking literally - and each of them envisioned himself as that global leader. These would be the three main contenders in the free-for-all fight for the title of Emperor of the World. They and the three Great Powers they would attempt to lead were not the only contenders. The Caliph of Persia had dreams of a Universal Caliphate that he would head as Mohamed II. He had a rival in the Muslim world in Omar of Turkanon who dreamed of a Greater Ottoman Empire. Prime Minister Angela Stempel of Europa saw no reason her union should not have primacy.
What stumped all of the players was how to actually achieve a unitary global state when the most obvious method, what had been the default method of increasing the territory one ruled, was no longer viable: armed conquest. With the lethality of modern military technology, direct combat between imperial powers was unthinkable. The contestants, therefore, engaged in a number of indirect stratagems.
The most obvious structure for an eventual world government was, of course, the United Nations. That institution's design, however, made it difficult to convert into a governing body - especially under the direction of a strong leader. Still, unless an alternative international structure could be created out of which government could emerge, the UN was all they had.
New Core City
"Dash, can you help me? I can't find my other earring," Cheri called out from the bedroom. I dropped my head and sighed deeply. That girl always couldn't find something. I pushed myself off the bar stool and sauntered across the living room of her New Core City flat to the bedroom.
And stopped. She was hustling around the end of the bed away from me, her hands fiddling with an ear lobe. She was in her dress for tonight's event, a shimmering gauzy little thing tied at the back of the neck, flowed down the front and skimmed across her hips to drape over her ass, dissolving into mist halfway down her thighs. Her $2000 strappy heeled sandals lay haphazardly on the bed.
As evolved and technological as modern man was, our primal roots were still as strong as ever and the way she moved infiltrated all my civilized layers and caressed those primal roots. Every flex of sinew spoke to me. I've seen and been with a lot of beautiful women, but she was perfect, absolutely perfect - and 100% Organic. Not Engineered and only the Basic Pack of Enhancements. She was half-Asian - Mantviennese - and half-Caucasion - Gaelish/Bolish mix - and the two blended perfectly.
"Serious, Baby, I can't find it anywhere. We're going to be late and I still have to finish my makeup," she called out from behind the wall of her dressing room. It snapped me out of my reverie.
"Where was that one?"
"On my bedside table."
I walked over to the table and got down on my hands and knees. I found an earring under the bed, nestled on the back side of the foot. I walked into the dressing room with it and dangled it in front of her eyes. She looked up at me and smiled - and every ounce of annoyance drained out of me. "Thank you, Baby," she said and blew me a kiss. "Now get out of here so I can finish getting ready."
I was pouring whiskey into a tumbler when a trill of Qinese music sounded in my right ear.
Empress Catherine - Priority: High
Speaking of perfect: 100% Qinese, She was the result of centuries of painstaking breeding and fully Engineered. She also had a towering temper and when she personally made a high priority call, it meant her patience was exhausted.
I finished pouring the whiskey, put the decanter back on the shelf, took a sip and blinked to answer the call.
"My Empress," I said in my comm voice. My friends teased me for still using an Onboard. I know all the advantages of Enhancements, but I refuse to have technology implanted in my body. Everybody will understand why sooner or later. So I talked on the comm instead of just thinking my part of a conversation like everybody else does. "It is good to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Formality pleased Catherine, and if she was calling high priority, pleasing her was a very good idea.
"Why have you not returned my assistant's calls? I need you, and it is quite urgent," she snapped in her accented English. Her accent was like the gilding on a Monet's frame. Although when she was angry maybe it was more like a Van Gogh.
"I'm sorry, I've been unavailable and my software must have taken messages." I brought up the comm software and blinked through the messages until I found The Assistant's latest. It had come in ten minutes ago. I was wanted for an "immediate Engagement." That explained it. "Yes, she called for an immediate Engagement and I'm booked right now. The software filters comms in that situation. I'm sorry."
"I am not some client. When I need you right away, it is for a very good reason. Do not put me off into a message queue."
I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle. I hoped she didn't hear it. "You and your needs are very important to me, My Empress. That's why your personal code is on my 'Do Not Screen' list. Hence we are speaking now.
"What is your need? Do you have a last minute appearance? Buildup of need? I can refer you to a colleague."
"I need YOU. We need to talk." There was a pause, then a heavy sigh. "I need advice," she finally squeezed out.
My eyes probably widened as they do when I get taken by surprise. Advice was not something she typically needed. "You have my attention. You need me there in person? How soon?"
She sighed. "How soon is now? Yes, I need you in person, Dash. It is highly sensitive."
"Ok. I'm Cee's date for an event. I will get to the airport as soon as it's over."
"A copter is waiting on her building's helipad to take you to one of my jets at the nearest airport."
"Oh. I see." Wow. Fuck. "Empress, I can't just stand her up. It will have to wait a couple hours. This is important to her."
Her exhalation virtually scorched my ear, but when she spoke, her voice was soft. "I am sorry. You are right. You cannot abandon Cheri. Where is the event?"
"At the Buden Center."
"Very well. My men will wait for you there. The second the event ends, they will bring you directly here."
The other empress in my life wouldn't be at all happy about that, but it would have to do. "Fine. But you have to make it up to Cee somehow."
Cee came out of the bedroom at that very moment, shoes on and makeup done and I once again marveled how no matter how often a man saw it, a woman's Beauty could overwhelm his brain. "I heard you talking. Were you on a call?" she asked as she shimmered across the carpet to punctuate her question with a kiss on the lips.
I frowned. "It was Empress Catherine." I could tell from her expression that she suspected what was coming next. "She needs me right away. Some kind of advice, not my regular services," I responded quickly to the flash of ire in her eyes. She knew Catherine almost as well as I did, and the anomaly of a request for advice put out the fire. "I have to leave right from the event. I'm sorry."
She was crushed. "But you just got here! It's been weeks!" She stepped into me and wrapped her arms around my waist. I closed mine around her. "I miss you so much."
"I miss you too," I whispered into her hair. "I'll come back when I've taken care of whatever it is she needs." I pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "I promise."
She scowled. "I have to go on location Monday."
"Well, if I can't come back before then, I'll stay with you on location for a few days."
"A week!" she demanded with the pout she knew I could never resist.
"Two weeks!" I countered.
She brightened and her smile made everything go away. "Promise?"
"Promise."
She reached up and kissed me again, this time harder. "Ok, Baby, that's fine. I know you keep your promises." She dragged a fingernail down my chest and flounced away. I knew she was exaggerating the sway of her hips.
The event was some banquet with chamber music and a lot of rich old farts congratulating themselves for having donated a minuscule fraction of their weekly earnings to some charity that helped its executives more than its intended beneficiaries. Dreadful and requiring every scrap of professionalism I possessed, it did fulfill one of Cee's contractual obligations as Ms. Hotbody, so I was happy to be there with her. The one pleasure for me was running into a couple of clients and seeing them wonder if I were Ms. Hotbody's escort or Cee's boyfriend. Half the world wanted to know, and she never addressed the subject. I never spoke for public consumption. Ever. You could Googazon search me a million ways and would not find one quotation. My discretion was one of the keys to my professional success.
When we walked out of the ballroom and into the grandiose lobby, Ms. Hotbody's personal security detail was waiting for us, accompanied by two Asian gentlemen who looked like granite statues of ancient Qinese warrior-gods shrink-wrapped in synthsilk suits. Cee's bodyguards were Darnell's men; their Vouch was enough to assure me these really were the Empress's men, so I willingly went with them. A smart person never went somewhere without Verifying who they were going with. A Teslimo whisked us above the streets of New Core City back to Cee's building where the copter remained on the helipad. The two men helped me out of the limo and into the idling copter.
The copter's decont hadn't even finished microscrubbing the airlock when a cha-ching tone resonated in my ear. A deposit into my credit account. The Empress making my fee payment. I smiled. Prompt as always. I glanced at the amount: she was hiring me through the weekend. I scowled to myself: an example of her occasional high-handed presumptuousness. I wanted to be with Cee, dammit. Down time at her apartment made the rest of my time worth the bullshit. I looked out the window and tried to ignore my annoyance.
Closing my eyes, I called Cheri to say good night. "I wanted you here with me, Dash," she pouted, forcing me to picture her naked under the covers. Dammit.
"I know, baby. You're where I want to be." The mic on the headset they gave me for the helicopter ride captured my voice and relayed it to the Onboard transmitter. Slick. The security guys sitting next to and across from me didn't hear a sound.
The airport had a Tube, so we went from copter to jet without ever being exposed to the outside atmosphere. No scrubbing or decont needed. Within minutes I was curled up on a couch drowsing off while the plane taxiied for takeoff. I'm one of those lucky ones who can sleep on planes, trains and automobiles. Of course, on a ride like this, it's a hell of a lot easier than riding coach. Those days were behind me, thank god.
"Mr. Spice, we will be landing soon," a voice computer-designed to be soothing informed me. I opened my eyes to see a flawless young Qinese person of indeterminate gender standing over me. "The pilot asks that you sit up and engage safety device."
I smiled as I sat up. "Thank you." I complied, then peered through the round window next to me. It was dark outside. In the distance I could see the lights of Yang City, whose Mayor I was going to visit. With an official population larger than any SE Asian city other than Jakarta and Bangkok and an unofficial population probably twice that, Yang City had an economy larger than many countries and presented enormous problems. The Empress had been Mayor for just one year, after heading the Chamber of Commerce for two.
And, yes, she really is an Empress. Her family fled Qinwa in like 1300 and ended up in what is now Yang City, where they hid for centuries. Earlier this century, an investigative reporter outed them. If there were still an imperial throne of Qinwa, she would have one of the best claims. It caused quite a stir at the time, but she uses it, and every inch of the woman is pure imperial.
"This way, Mr. Spice. Empress Ming's security detail will escort you to her," the flight attendant let me know. The same two guys who had picked me up at the event stood behind him/her. They led me into the Tube where a labyrinthine network of moving walkways took us to a shuttle terminal where we entered into the largest, plushest copter you will ever see. I was overwhelmed with curiosity whether She would be waiting for me in the copter, as She occasionally has done when we were going directly to some event. She wasn't, so I settled in for the flight to her home on the bluffs overlooking downtown Yang City from across the river, some 25 miles from where we were. The Yang City International Airport was one of the newest, most modern, busiest of the new generation of international airports, boasting one of the planet's five first generation spaceports. The Ming family had been instrumental in getting it built.
The nighttime city lights were so beautiful. This city could be breathtaking, especially when you could see the Shedragon Pagoda with its multi-colored lights and the spotlighting on its towers, but detracting from that beauty tonight were the columns of blackness striping the view like knocked-out teeth. Catherine and her people had done great things with Yang City but it like all major cities had major problems, one of them being a grotesque number of empty towers dotting its city center, all of them between 30 and 70 stories of gleaming modern metals and polymers, with property values in the billions, and completely unoccupied. They were a frequent subject of Empress's tirades.
The copter docked at Ming Palace's secure copterport. I had been thinking she would be at her home, so being here was a bit of a surprise, but she often stayed at the megaresort her family had built when she had business in the City.
The guards led me through the molecularly-secure antechamber into the building proper. The helipad was atop one of the twin cupolas of the structure. It would be a long trip to the Empress's private quarters atop the other one. We rode in an electric minicab. Her majordomo met us at the landing of her quarters. "Welcome, Mr. Spice. I will lead you to your quarters where you can freshen up. I will retrieve you at 9."
I bowed. "Thank you, Ping." I said it in Qinese. He backed away and closed the door as he left. I walked through the suite, reacquainting myself with the surroundings. This was the space she always gave me when we were at the Palace, but it had been a while. I stripped off my filthy clothes and left them by the front door, then went in for a shower. It felt so fucking good. Her personal aromatherapist was the best.
As always, the suite was provisioned with everything I would need, the brands I liked, and the closet and dresser were full of clothes that fit me. I had a feeling we were going to talk business first, so I went for a business casual look - with a bright pocket square and just a bit of jewelry for a night-on-the-town edge. I knew that once she had discussed with me what she wanted to discuss, she would then want to make full use of my more conventional services.
By the time Ping came back for me, I was ready and occupying myself by going through my messages. There were quite a lot, including a number of booking requests. Most of those I had to regrettably decline, as I would be here or fulfilling my promise to Cheri - who always was a little insecure after my Appointments with the Empress. But I was able to accept a couple of bookings farther out in time. Also in my queue was a message from Vincent - Father Vincent - hoping I could get to Periphery City soon because he had something he wanted to discuss with me. Vincent was paranoid about hacking and data sniffing - maybe because he was one of the best data sniffers in the world - and refused to have substantive conversations other than in person. I did not disagree.
The last message I got to before Ping knocked on the door was from Darnell wanting to tell me about some "anomalies" his sniffers had detected around Thugz Mansion. That was a bit ominous. I sent back a quick message that I would get back to him in the morning.
Ping was pleased to see that I was ready - but not surprised, since I was always ready. Punctuality was one of my prides. I felt it set me apart as a professional from so many others in my business who for one reason or another were usually late. Empress Catherine had no tolerance for tardiness. She expected your presence when she wanted it.
Her personal quarters at Ming Palace were similar to The Mansion at Thugz Mansion: like a house on the top of a skyscraper. While at Thugz Mansion it was literally an old brownstone mansion set on the roof of the skyscraper, the "Imperial Palace" at Ming Palace was built inside the structure of the cupola, but internally it was laid out like a palace instead of like a floor in a modern building. Her personal suite was at the very top. My quarters were directly below her bedroom, with a circular staircase connecting the two. Her business suite, which consisted of a receiving room, a library, an office, and a private study, was on the "ground floor" of the Palace. She was waiting for me in the study, which had a stunning panoramic view of the city and her home on the bluffs across the river. If you knew where to look, you could see the house.
The first thing I always noticed about her was how fucking beautiful she was. You forgot the impact of her perfection after just a short time out of her presence, so it would hit you again. As beautiful as Cheri was, she was like the most beautiful mortal woman in existence - and Empress Catherine was a goddess. But while Cheri was Enhanced, Catherine was both Enhanced and Engineered. She was designed to be as perfect as one of the largest fortunes in the world could make a person.
And I, neither Enhanced nor Engineered, was her favorite mate. I was also her most treasured confidante and advisor. I liked to think of myself as her consigliere.
Seeing her, I had chosen my outfit wisely. She wore a business suit, but her hair was down and her eye makeup shaded to the purple, which meant she had nighttime pleasure on her mind.
The next thing I noticed was that she looked troubled, uncertain - and insecure? If I didn't have such confidence in my own perceptiveness I would have rejected the possibility, for I had never seen that in her before. Now my interest was really piqued.
It passed quickly when she looked up and saw me, chased away by relief. She smiled, and it transformed her face, made her a young woman and not the heiress of an ancient house. She gestured me to join her in the seating area set off in a bay window behind her desk. She held me tight and kissed me, then we sat across from each other. "Thank you for coming. I have a complicated situation here and your political instincts are flawless."
I smiled and didn't say to her, "What will your enemies say if they find out your gigolo is your political guru?" I could tell from her face as she tried to figure out how to explain her problem that it was serious and complicated.
"You know that we have many refugees here in the city, and on our outskirts, and that thousands more arrive every day." I nodded. The worldwide refugee problem was no secret and she and I had talked several times about Yang City's situation. As one of the few coastal cities in Southeast Asia that was largely above sea level, it was a natural destination for those displaced from low-lying cities by the rising seas. Not only was climate change forcing millions into migration, but ethnic cleansing in Mynmara and neighboring countries - particularly Gandia - was forcing millions of others, mostly Muslims, to seek safety. Again, Yang City was a natural destination because it had a deep history of multicultural cooperation, and Catherine had spoken out many times about racial and religious tolerance. As a result, it was estimated that she had over 6 million refugees camped in and around the city limits.
"The junta is unhappy." Mynmara was ruled by a military junta that selected all civilian government leaders - including Mayor of Yang City (long story). "They see this population of other ethnics growing in their borders and they want it to stop. The Army has patrols out to intercept refugee caravans. They turn them back - or worse. We hear rumors but of course can confirm nothing. The Navy does the same at sea.
"I received an envoy two days ago. He is the man who delivers their 'or else' messages. He told me that the growing refugee population here is 'unacceptable' and that it was my job to 'implement government policy, and it would be unfortunate if the military authorities came to feel they had to handle the situation for' me.
"Yesterday a member of the City Development Committee - a man who is most definitely not my friend and a native Mynmaranese - introduced a resolution to close the City to non-citizens and authorize the police to ask for identification and arrest anyone who could not produce it. I am certain that he did so on the suggestion of the junta and has been promised my position.
"I do not know what to do. I feel a human obligation to care for these people, but I fear what the junta will do, and I fear for my City if this measure passes and that man becomes the Mayor. And then what about my people? We Qinese here are in a position like the Jews in Europe, a small discrete population group with wealth and position far above our numbers."
She was no longer seated. She had bounced off the couch and begun pacing by the window. "I see them. When I look out from my home, or from my office at the city building, or from some rooms here in the Palace, I can see the refugees in their camps. 'Camps'! Such a benign name for the conditions in which they live! The others avoid looking at them because they only see burdens, they see guilt, they see the consequences of our inaction, our apathy.
"But I look at them and I see an opportunity! Immigration helps societies! Societies that welcome and bring in new people get better, stronger, more prosperous. 'Give me you tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free!' These are people, not wretched but brave. They left and went to a strange land because they had hope. They have hopes and dreams and ambitions! They are people with intelligence and talents, and many of them have skills and education that they bring with them. They can contribute - they want to contribute, they want nothing more than to contribute, to work and to earn and to support their families! Same as us!" She was prowling, waving her arms, intensity blazing in her coal black eyes. "God has sent us a gift! And they want to throw it away! No! I want to accept that gift and benefit my people!"
She fell silent and turned to gaze out the window. I could see her reflection. Of all my clients, she was the one who mattered to me personally. I would even say, if I were one to say such things, that I loved her. "That speech right there will carry the day," I said. Her eyes flicked to lock with mine in the reflection. "When delivered like that, with that passion and belief, your people will agree with you."
She turned and came back to sit on the edge of the couch facing me. "It is what I believe. How do I win?"
I leaned forward, perching on the edge of the seat in mirror of her. "You have two problems - three, but two are immediate: the junta from above, and your city council." She nodded. "Is there a vote scheduled on the resolution?"
She shook her head, not in negation but as if to clear it. "Yes, I am sorry I did not mention. It is tomorrow."
I was surprised. "That's fast."
She scowled. "Yes. It is meant to pass, not to be debated."
"Does he have the votes?"
She sat back and sighed. Her eyes faded into the distance as she calculated. Her calculation was aided by electrical impulses directed to the appropriate neural centers and by apps and databanks Enhancing her thought capacity. "He probably has the votes to pass it, but not to override my veto. I do have the authority to veto any council resolution, much as your President."
I nodded. "You don't want to veto it, but you can use the veto to prevent it from coming to a vote." She nodded. "How do your people feel about the refugees?" I knew that she regularly gathered public opinion data through all the (ethical) means a modern social control machine collected it.
She frowned. "The data is difficult to interpret. We have close to full employment and our economic indicators are strong. We provide health care and education to all, and the housing situation is mostly adequate, so few people have concrete reason to be scared of outsiders. And Yang City has a long history of being tolerant of immigration. We had issues years ago when the city took a hard line, but that faded." She shrugged. "I think that most of the people are sympathetic, but there is much unease. Why do you ask?"
I blew past her question for the moment. "Can you get people into the streets?"
She cocked her head to the side. "People? You mean.... Ah, I see." She flashed a feral grin. "Yes, I can get people into the streets."
"Good. One last thing. Anytime a popular movement needs to deal with a potentially violent national elite, outside pressure can make the difference between brutal repression and a successful resistance. I don't think you can count on any meaningful pressure from other national governments." She shook her head. There simply were no neighboring nations or global powers that would care. "But, are there any regional city leaders you could count on?"
She sat up straight and pursed her lips while she considered her relations with the other cities in Southeast Asia. Finally she nodded. "I have some friends, a few others who owe me, others who depend on trade with us. Yes, I think we could get support from a number of cities. We've been very active in the Federation and I think it's strong." She was talking about the Federation of Southeast Asian Cities, which had formed a few years ago to deal with regional economic and climate-related issues.
"Ok, I have a plan." Her complete attention was both intimidating and gratifying. She listened intently as I laid it all out, then we sat there for another hour revising and refining the plan until she was 100% satisfied. Then we didn't even leave the room before she was 100% satisfied again.
I stayed in the suite when she went to the city building for the council meeting, but she streamed her cameras to my Onboard comm so I could follow along. We had a two-way channel open. "You don't need me, my Empress, but I am here to enjoy your victory." I'll cut to the chase for you....
"Thank you, Councilor, for your resolution. Before we begin debate, I want to make my position clear for you all. I believe it is irresponsible to vote on a measure so important and complex as this one without proper reflection and discussion. We have not been able to have that. Therefore, I will veto this resolution if passed by the Council, and we will have to schedule an override vote for a future date. That being the case, I move that we table the resolution for a vote at our next meeting, which will be next Tuesday."
She looked around the room. Only one other face was female. All were shaken, but around the table I spotted a couple approving faces. She was not without allies. The other female raised her hand and seconded the motion. What could the others do? They all agreed, and Catherine strode from the room without another word.
Time for stage two.
Before going into the council meeting, she had her Assistant issue a press release that there would be a press conference on the front steps of the city building. The wording of the release, the way it was disseminated not only to press outlets but also through every one of her social media platforms, and the location all fairly screamed an invitation to all to come. Consequently, when she stepped out of the building and strode up to the podium on the top step, a crowd numbering in the thousands awaited her. A loud cheer went up, and only died down when she held up her hands and motioned for quiet.
"Thank you all for coming." Her voice filled the open area, her Enhancements providing all the amplification necessary. It seemed as if she were speaking privately to each individual in the audience. Her voice caressed. "I have called you here to announce that I am declaring Monday to be a municipal holiday and a day of celebration. All non-essential City offices will be closed for a paid holiday. I urge all private employers to do the same as a sign of Yang City patriotism!" The people in the crowd who were not professional press cheered lustily.
She let the cheering die down on its own before continuing. "And I invite every person in the City to join me right here at twelve o'clock noon, and march with me to the Shedragon Pagoda for a communal prayer of thanks, love and peace!" The crowd again burst into cheering. As they cheered, she turned and strode back into the building.
She had already cleared the "paid holiday" with the city's largest private employers and assured two alliances of small businesses that her philanthropic foundation would cover their wages for the day. The route from the city building to the Shedragon Pagoda was sublime: it went directly past the regional governor's mansion and the national government office building was on the other side of the massive traffic circle in front of the Pagoda entrance. The junta would see that she could marshal the people, but as they were marching in the name of "thanks, love and peace" to offer prayer at the most revered monument in the nation, how could the junta object?
Finally, she and I had worded the announcement carefully to be inclusive of the refugees without specifically naming them. The whole thing was a direct challenge to the junta - but not an open one.
Stage three took place that night and over the weekend. She had multiple comm conferences with each of the other FSEAC mayors, either asking, cajoling or outright threatening them for their support in any way they could. She called in favors, made promises, and appealed to shared interests. By the time she crawled back into bed Sunday night after a long conversation with the mayor of Chiminho City, exhausted, she had pledges of support from a critical mass of FSEAC mayors and a promise to hold a FSEAC convention soon and discuss more collective action in dealing with regional issues.
When she curled up on my chest, she was just a young woman needing human intimacy. I closed my arms around her and gave it to her.