Summoning America

February 4, 1640

San Diego, California

Drowsiness beset Cabal as the powerful effects of boredom kicked in. Dissociating his vision, his mind tuned out the videos as he began to daydream about flying one of those speedy jets from earlier. The lectures on road laws and pedestrian responsibilities turned into mumbled garbles. 

Dallas was similarly affected. He paid little attention to the videos, planning to rely on Cielia — who was intently paying attention — to guide him should knowledge of the rules be necessary. Gesta continued to remain professional, taking notes on a provided composition book and pen as he followed along.

The waves of videos finally ceased, aptly timed with a knock on the front door. Cielia got up to open it, revealing Nomura outside. “Hello, Agent Nomura,” Cielia said. 

“May I come in?” He asked. 

“Yes, yes of course,” Prince Cabal said. “We’ve just finished watching the videos.”

Nomura clasped his hands together. “Thank you, Your Highness.” He shifted his eyes, looking at each of the Gra Valkans. “Now, I’m sure you’re glad to be done with the lectures. The rest of the day is free for you all, although I’ll need a schedule — by tomorrow morning at ten o’clock — for the San Diego activities you desire to participate in for the coming days. I will also leave these,” he said, holding up menus and placing them on a table, “for dinner. Just note the items you want and the hotel staff will bring them to you.”

“Got it!” An upbeat Cielia replied, ready to coordinate everything for the group.

As Nomura prepared to leave, Prince Cabal stopped him. “Oh, a question, Agent Nomura.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“How will the exchange work?” Cabal asked, gesturing toward a bag of gold bars.

“Right. I’ll have someone appraise these. We can then offer you money equivalent to the local value of the bars.” Nomura then explained, “Keep in mind that you won’t be able to purchase any educational textbooks without a permit or proof of residence. One of the videos should have a list of items that you can and cannot purchase.” 

Prince Cabal suppressed his disappointment, instead asking, “Would there be any way to lift these restrictions?”

Nomura shrugged, “I apologize, Your Highness. I wouldn’t know. I think you may wish to bring this up with our Secretary of State and President when you meet them in a couple weeks.”

“Alright then. Thank you, Agent Nomura,” Cabal said politely. 

After Nomura left the room, the Gra Valkans immediately began to plan their short vacation, analyzing tourist pamphlets as they considered places to go. 

Recalling what Gesta had said earlier about waiting for more information, Cabal turned to him and asked, “Gesta, which of these events do you think will be the most informative?” The group encircled Gesta as he reviewed the documents.

Gesta thumbed over suggestions provided by the pamphlet, mentally striking ones that provided little to no information. “Hmm… Your Highness, I believe that we should visit the ports to analyze shipment traffic and gain information about their economy; visit the USS Midway Museum to learn about their naval doctrines; and see the Air and Space Museum to learn about their aircraft and technologies.”

“Do we have more time after doing this?” Cabal asked. 

Gesta looked up at Cielia, who answered, “Yes. We will have a day’s worth of time to potentially explore the city and learn more about the local culture, maybe even interact with some people!”

Gesta opened his mouth to voice his opposition, but was silenced as Cabal expressed his opinions first. “I think that’s a good idea. The President is elected by the people, so in theory, the people should represent a solid reflection of him. Would this theory be correct?” He asked Gesta and Cielia.

They both agreed. 

“And what about you, Dallas?”

Dallas straightened up when the prince looked at him, answering respectfully, “I agree as well, Your Highness. I would like to voice the concern however of mingling with barbarians —”

“Oh, bother!” Cielia exclaimed, her annoyance visible in the shape of her brows. “Dallas, have you forgotten the jets flying by our plane? The videos we watched? Actually, ignore that last part. I can already guess you were never even paying attention in the first place.”

Dallas wanted to retort, but held himself back, realizing that not only was Cielia his superior, but her bosses were here as well. He reluctantly conceded, crossing his arms laying back in his seat. “Hm,” he said. 

“Anyway,” Cabal quickly said, moving the conversation away from the tense awkwardness, “Let’s try to review the menus. I sure hope the food here is of comparable quality to back home.” His stomach grumbled in anticipation as he looked at the appetizing photos that accompanied the dish descriptions. “Why, they have steak here as well!”

The group selected their meals, using the provided service phone to request them. While they waited, they decided to use the technological amenities available to them, starting with the television. Cielia turned it on, a news channel immediately flickering into the flat screen. 

A blonde reporter talked with the classic articulative tone associated with most news broadcasts, standing over a table filled with fancy-looking lotions. “— and now Johnson & Johnson stock is soaring thanks to their acquisition of Candee Corp! Factories are currently preparing to mass produce her signature ointments and creams for the American public. Meanwhile, other biotech corporations are in a mad scramble for any magical research they can get their hands on! This is a gold rush like we’ve never seen before! I have Doctor Mitchell Lorne here with me to talk about new advancements thanks to Mage Candee’s research. Doctor Lorne?”

A man in a white lab coat and glasses explained his thoughts on magic. “We’ve never called anything magical, but I think this is an obvious exception. The resources we acquired from Candee Corp, along with the materials from Qua Toyne and other places have been nothing but godsends! We used to think immortality was impossible, but the magic we’ve done in our labs have opened up a ton of new possibilities. Don’t get me wrong, this technology is still many many years away, but still.” He whistled. “I just hope we won’t go down a path like that movie ‘In Time’.”

Cabal stared aghast, shocked by their ambition. The research mentioned gave him ideas about the possibilities of magic — something that his arrogant countrymen have disregarded due to the superiority of their mechanical weapons against Leifor. He surmised that this worldview would collapse as quickly as it had formed, especially if he advocated for magical research to keep up with other nations around the world — most importantly the United States.

Even Dallas was intrigued by the statements on the screen, his predispositions about the ‘barbaric’ Americans already fading away. As he was trying to make sense of the scientific endeavors being pursued by the American corporations, Cielia discovered a list of channels. 

“Your Highness, I found a list! It looked like there are some channels here about history and science,” Cielia spread a small document on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“Huh,” Cabal said, analyzing it with keen interest. “We can start with this Discovery Channel perhaps, and then move onto PBS…”

The Gra Valkans began to watch the television intently. Gesta’s delegation took notes while they ate their dinner, inevitably developing positive impressions of the United States thanks to the food and content on the television. Cabal then invited Naguano to join them after dinner, to discuss his findings on the Internet search engine called ‘Google’. 

After much discussion, Cabal resigned to his room and collapsed onto his bed with a tired sigh. His mind was flooded with images and descriptions of the impossible. Culture shock crashed down upon him like a tsunami as he attempted to fathom the differences between his nation and the United States, and how much they have achieved. Something in the diplomatic video shown in Leifor had shaken Gesta to his core — so much so that he had to visit this nation himself. 

After finding out about the Apollo program, he understood why Gesta had to see this place with his own eyes. Cabal looked out the windows, watching planes retreating into the night sky as they continued to ferry people around the country. The city lights reminded him of home, and he finally knew what must be done, falling asleep soundly after his worries subsided.

——

February 5

Prince Cabal, Gesta’s delegation, and Naguano moved past the line of curious tourists, escorted by Nomura’s secret service agents who helped them get inside the USS Midway Museum. Much of the line contained visitors from Elysian nations, primarily wealthy investors and military officials who have journeyed to analyze American technology. Much like the ships at port, the visitors were just as diverse.

Some wore colorful shirts with tight pants, reminiscent of Yggdra’s counterpart to the Middle Ages. Others wore puffy trousers and cumbersome full dresses — clearly from Parpaldia and other Philadean countries. The men wearing suits and trench coats — outfits similar to their own — must be from Mu. The Mirishials were the easiest to distinguish, wearing a simple, yet elegant selection of dress shirts and light-colored robes. The Americans wore an unfathomably diverse array of logo-emblazoned jackets, with a few of them braving the cold wearing only t-shirts. 

Although Cabal could see many were a bit jealous that his group was able to bypass the line, most were rather intrigued by his status and imperial garb. They reached the interior of the carrier, entering a large hangar below decks. Nomura led them to the various exhibits, beginning with monoplane fighters and bombers. 

Naguano was easily the most excited, approaching the exhibits with wonder in his eyes. “My goodness,” he exclaimed. “They look just like the planes from the Divine Kingdom of Kain!”

“Huh,” a voice beside him said. It was a tall black-haired man wearing a dark green suit and brown trench coat that matched the color of his eyes. “Here I was, thinking that the planes looked like those from the Gra Valkas Empire.” He turned away from the fighter and looked the Gra Valkans up and down. “Granted, I haven’t seen your planes up close so I suppose there is some misunderstanding there.”

“Oh, a Muan? And who might you be?” Prince Cabal asked. 

The tall man replied, “My name is Myrus. I didn’t expect to see the isolationist Gra Valkans this far out. Who are you?” 

“Prince Gra Cabal.” He gestured toward Gesta and the others, “And these are my subjects; part of a diplomatic delegation.”

Myrus bowed slightly at Cabal, showing his respect. “Well met, Your Highness,” he acknowledged before turning to Naguano. “And you?” 

“I’m Naguano,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m an analyst.”

Myrus shook his hand, raising an eyebrow. “Hm? A fellow analyst eh? I’m sure you’ll find that there are a lot of things to learn here, be it design choices or… countermeasures.” Myrus said the last word with emphasis. 

Cabal was taken aback by the subtle implications of Myrus’ speech, but he disregarded it and instead asked for clarification. His timely response prevented Dallas from jumping in and berating the Muan. “How could you learn so much if the Americans have made it illegal to purchase their books?”

Myrus shrugged, “Well, you’re not allowed to buy textbooks, but you can go to the library and take notes. It might not be the most efficient method, but the Americans won’t stop us from taking self-written notes home.” He held up the notebook and pen in his hand. 

“Well, thank you for the insight, Mister Myrus.” Cabal said. 

Myrus nodded. “I wish you luck in your studies. The studies of myself and my country have led us to believe that the Americans can be a very beneficial ally. I hope your people find yourselves at the same conclusion.”

Cabal’s group bid their goodbyes and moved on while Naguano took notes, sketching the designs of the aircraft. As Cabal ventured deeper into the museum, he received ever-blatant reminders that the Americans are much more advanced than his people. Myrus’ words stuck in his mind, growing to prominence as he reached the upper decks and inspected their helicopters and jet-powered aircraft. 

Finally, the thoughts became unbearable and he decided to ask Naguano for his opinion. “Naguano,” he said, bringing the man out of his notebook. 

“Your Highness?”

“If we were to fight a war against the United States, is there any piece of technology that we own that could come out on top?”

“Your Highness…”

“Please, speak freely. This is important for my father’s empire.”

Naguano looked down at his notebook, finding it hard to maintain eye contact. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I know I said earlier that the Americans are clearly advanced, but after the Internet research we performed last night and after what we’ve seen today, I would say a war against them is… Hopeless.”

Cabal nodded, his face grim. “I suspected that would be the case.” He gave a defeated sigh, “Now, I fight the hardest battle given to me. I must convince my father and the hawkish warmongers in Congress to abandon their thirst for conquest.”

——

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