Rothester

Chapter 37: Classified Paradise

(A/N: Really really sorry for going missing again. I don't know why, but I really struggled writing this chapter. Also, I'm seriously considering renaming a bunch of countries and recreating the world map. Entesia might get renamed to something else since I'm at a point where I'm starting to get to explain its history in detail and wanted the name to make historical sense and "Entesia" is too random.)

Few words can truly capture the internal turmoil Allen Harrington feels. His legs feel weak, and his balance is off. He has never flown in any capacity, not on dragons, and certainly not aircraft. The handful of legation members accompanying Harrington also feel the effects as they slowly walk down the ramp of the C-130, hoping they don't show weakness to the Entesian soldiers that escort them.

The baffling mechanical monster the Entesians call an 'aircraft' or 'airplane' somehow proved the base commander's outlandish claims in just a few hours. They flew. They really did. Inside an artificial bird made of metal the Entesians claim they manufactured, Allen Harrington's worldview is shaken to its core. Previous attempts to create flying contraptions have had little to no success, as far as he knew, often failing catastrophically as they were usually enlarged and flimsy kites.

Upon stepping off the plane, the legation members notice that it's colder than what they're used to in Ravenia, despite the clear sunny sky. Harrington looks around to find a wide-open space. Standing at a distance are several soldiers similar to those who came with them on the plane, with green patterns instead of the blue he saw at Joint Base Harper. He also spots the strange vehicles the base commander called 'Humvees'.

Even further in the distance are large structures Harrington assumes are for storage, not knowing they're hangers. Like the C-130 he flew in, other large aircraft are also neatly lined up along with several smaller aircraft. Everything is odd to look at, no matter which direction they turn. No one in the legation can understand what anything is.

"Welcome to Collins Air Force Base and the Federal Republic of Entesia," a feminine but firm voice calls out.

Harrington's attention turns to a large group of people approaching him, and he pauses to analyze them. There are about a dozen identical men wearing black three-piece suits under a topcoat, trilby hats, and dark sunglasses; they are Diplomatic Security Service agents. At the front of the group is a brunette woman with short hair, wearing a similar black suit to the agents. It contrasts the legation members' dark diplomatic uniforms with gold oak leaf embroidery.

"Mister Harrington," the woman says, "how was the flight?"

Harrington briefly stares at the woman without responding before his eyes dart to the men. He's assuming someone with proper authority is either among the men or is yet to come.

"Are you all right?" the woman says, noticing Harrington's confusion.

Harrington looks back at the woman. Under the presumption that social practices are universally observed, the woman has no right to be speaking in this situation. Judging from how she's cut her hair short, she's openly offending the femininity women are expected to uphold. None of the men in the group are saying or doing anything. Instead, they seem to be waiting for his response.

"Am I to disregard my repute by speaking with you? Where is your husband?" Harrington says as he glances over the DSS agents.

The woman remains steadfast, ignoring the offensive remark. Hearing these comments is common, especially for someone like her, and she has grown to have thick skin.

"I think there may be a misunderstanding—"

"I agree. I have come here as an envoy to speak with the Entesian government. Instead, I'm met with a woman, one who dares imitate a man."