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- Misfit_9
———
En route to Cetus
June 3rd, 2024/1789
6:30 A.M.
Aboard the chartered military transport, the ambassadors sat in relative comfort. While it lacked the luxury of the flights they were accustomed to on Earth, it was sufficient for the short time they were given. After all, they were viewed as foreigners — aliens in every sense. To the Montañaricians they were about to meet, their homelands, as real as they were, will naturally be seen as fabrications, far-fetched stories that even the most gullible would call bullshit.
"Not bad for a troop transport, huh?" Ramos said, stretching as he glanced at the clouds outside the window.
"I’d rather have the view from that hotel we stayed at," Petruik replied, skimming through the briefing document he'd soon have to present. "But they could've at least thrown in breakfast. I can’t function without my coffee. And the looks we got from the staff and those bystanders? Completely ruined the stay, no matter how nice the place was."
"It's not like we just walked in at the worst possible time."
"Still, a little appreciation wouldn’t hurt."
"Now don’t expect free samples everywhere you go…”
———
The White House, Washington D.C.
Standing alone outside the West Colonnade, Bleakley savored the calm of the early morning summer sky. A cool breeze drifted through the garden, weaving between the columns that lined the path connecting the Residence Villa to the Oval Office.
As he prepared to begin yet another hectic day, approaching footsteps broke the stillness, work arriving sooner than expected.
"Mr. President?" came Secretary Prsa's voice.
Bleakley glanced over his shoulder, and already, he knew what to ask. “Status of the delegation’s flight?" Finally turning to face Prsa, who was in more casual wear.
"They’re about four hours away from the Montañarician capital, Cetus. A chartered military transport is handling the journey."
"Are they being escorted?" Bleakley inquired.
"They were promised full security upon their arrival to the capital," Laiss replied, though his tone held a hint of uncertainty about the details the ambassadors may have passed along.
With a brief pause, Bleakley took his final moments outside before the two headed toward the Oval Office. Through the window, Bleakley eyed a group of his secretaries already gathered around the Resolute Desk, bathed in under the bright light, seemingly unaware of his arrival.
“Good morning,” Bleakley greeted as he entered.
A chorus of "Good mornings" followed in various tones as Bleakley settled into his leather desk chair. "Alright…" he began, instinctively reaching for the PDB (President's Daily Brief) that had been placed on his desk earlier. "Has the Federal Reserve Board given their final say?" he asked, referring to the section in the briefing that outlined their decision.
"Just this morning, sir," replied the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, stepping forward from the group. "As of now, the dollar will be backed by the gold standard indefinitely. We’ll do everything we can to keep its value steady," he affirmed.
YOU ARE READING
Continental Visitors: The Wonder Tales Of Northern America
FanfictionEmbarking on a new chapter in their history, the United States and its northern neighbor and ally, Canada, face the unthinkable as they are abruptly thrust into the abyss of chaos, as a series of unprecedented events has catapulted the two nations b...
