The Commons

The Country Inn

Rune Stubel, ambassador of a country that didn't exist yet, dressed in a threadbare set of snugs, burst into the dining room of the Country Inn.

"Excuse me," she said to the middle aged woman behind the counter, "but is there somewhere around here I can get some coffee and a zenny?"

"In a hurry?" asked the woman, putting down her rag.

Rune nodded. "Yes. A bit. I just landed on this planet, and I have about half an hour to get ready for the first ever Incan international state meeting."

Two much better dressed and better caffeinated people sitting at the counter looked up from their lunches. The woman looked at them significantly.

"I see. In that case, your colleagues have arrived already," she said.

The female ambassador stood up and offered Rune her hand. "Miranda Wilstein," she said, unnecessarily. "Ambassador for Agapland. You must be Rune."

Rune wanted to die. The Wilstein family were some of the most famous people in the Center Hect, and Rune looked like she had just rolled out of her bunk in the space shuttle. Which, to be fair, she had. But it wasn't her fault that she'd been voted ambassador of Danica two days ago and had barely made it to Inca in time for this meeting.

"Avi," said the male ambassador, offering his own hand. "Ambassador for Ganas. Perhaps you'd like some time to ... freshen up, before the meeting."

She didn't like his tone much. But he was right; she did want a wash.

"And I'm Ashlette Lowery, owner of the Country Inn," said the woman behind the counter. "I've got your room key here, Ms. Stubel. How about I send you up some coffee and zennies when they come out of the oven?"

"How much will that cost?" asked Rune.

Miranda and Avi laughed. Even Mrs. Lowery smiled. Rune felt like smacking her forehead. Some noncapitalist she was.

"This Inn is on Incan soil," she reminded Rune. "And INCA takes care of its own. From now on, feel free to forget that money exists."

"Listen, shuttle lag is no fun," said Miranda kindly. "You take your time and come down when you're ready, Rune. No need for us to be formal."

Avi folded his arms as if he would have much preferred to be formal. "I will see you in the conference room shortly," he said.

Rune nodded. "Right, then."

"Second floor, dear," said Mrs. Lowery. "Enjoy your stay."

Rune left, relieved, pulling her suitcase behind her. As soon as she found her room, she undressed and jumped into the cleaner. The warm layer of soapy water scrubbing its way around her skin and up her long hair soothed her, but the relief was only physical.

She had no business being here.

Oh, sure, she had been chosen fair and square by the future citizens of Danica. But the whole thing had been rather impulsive. Most of the citizens had been aligned behind either Zork Koboi or Anna the Blogger, two highly respected noncapitalist political scientists. Then suddenly, Zork had breached the wall of cold respectable non-engagement with Anna in a very public text media debate over energy production. Anna, a former particle physicist, had given as good as she got, and by the time IncaNet had locked their argument thread, many people didn't want to support either of them. On a whim, someone had started a petition to vote in Rune, a 25-year-old site moderator for IncaNet who had gained unexpected popularity for her empathetic attempts to defuse the Anna / Zork debates.

It wasn't as if Rune had set out to be inspiring or anything. At first she'd just been posting links to the site code of conduct, which they'd both ignored. Privately, she thought both of them sounded like over-educated blowhards, and yet Danica needed them and their brains. Rune didn't want to start deleting posts in such an important debate, so she'd pulled out her customer service skills and gotten creative.