After that, we said our goodbyes and ended the call.

Settling back against the love seat, I close my eyes and murmur, “I'm glad that went so well. He sounds interested.”

“Of course, you just offered an astronomical, no pun intended, sum of money for Texas on an ongoing basis. Plus, he gets to meet you. You know he's a fan, right?”

“No, I didn't. I still find it hard to believe that I have fans, or whatever you want to call them.”

“Believe it. Personally, I find it refreshing that so many follow you rather than some vapid person only known for being good looking. You ought to consider hiring a social media coordinator.”

Opening my eyes, I look at her. “Why? Much of what I do is classified, as if I need to tell you that.”

“Princess, you're a phenomenal young lady. Regardless of the classified portions of what you do, you've accomplished more than most people ever do, and you're only 15. I shouldn't even have to mention that your fashion sense, elegance, and manners tend to draw people to you. The same thing happens when you're giving talks. You have a way of drawing your audience into what you are talking about. You make them see things they'd normally never consider.

“Look at what you put together. A coalition of 73 nations that normally wouldn't agree that the sky is blue. You did that. I seriously doubt whether anyone else could have done it since everyone else would have probably bogged it down in politics or attempted to gain advantages for themselves. Modesty is a virtue, my little princess, but then again, there's something to be said about tooting your own horn.”

“Ugh… another person following me around. And what if they publish something they shouldn't, like telling people about why we're doing all of this? The fallout from that could very well cause panic and riots. You know that already.”

She shrugs. “I think the benefits outweigh the risks. You could always detail an escort to keep them away from the things they shouldn't know. For that matter, Metis could easily block them from doing such a thing. Just promise me that you'll think about it.”

I chuckle for a couple of seconds. “Alright, you win. I'll seriously consider it.”

She smiles. “Good. Now, how would you feel about a nap before dinner?”

I smile and stretch. “That sounds heavenly, but I have no idea where our bags are.”

“In the residence. You'll be staying there tonight. It's much more comfortable than the guest rooms.”

Along the way, I tell Jenny that we only need one room since Honoka and I will be sharing one. I can’t sleep when I’m alone, remember? She shows us to a room, and we enter. I consider my room at home to be extravagant, but it pales in comparison to how sumptuous this room is. Although I have to admit, at the moment, a futon on the floor of a cleaning closet would suit me just fine. All I care about right now is slipping into a nightgown, cuddling up with Honoka and sleeping.

　◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

Someone shaking my shoulder elicits a groan. Slitting my eyes open, I see it’s one of the maids. “Ma’am, dinner will be ready in an hour. You might want to get dressed. The president said that casual will be fine.”

“‘Kay.” I sit up, stretch and yawn. Glancing at the clock, we had a three hour nap. I do feel a tiny bit better, but I’m telling you, if I laid back down, I’d be asleep mere moments later.

After waking Honoka. I delve into my garment bags looking for my yellow halter top skater dress. Mainly, because not only is it comfortable, but it’s also chic. Opening my suitcase, I remove some sheer nude stockings and then find my sky blue, open-toe, ankle strap sandals. Looking myself over as Honoka rebraids my messy hair, I have to admit that I look really good. I glance at the ceiling and send a silent ‘Thank you’ to Mama. After she finishes, I add a yellow choker with a blue diamond pendant, earrings with the same gem, and my watch. Then I help Honoka dress and style her hair. Once we finish, we step out in the hallway to find the same maid that woke us waiting.

“If you’ll please follow me.”

She leads us to what I assume is the residence dining room where Jenny and Mark are waiting.

After we say hello, Jenny calls me over and takes several selfies of the two of us to post on something she calls her Twiller account.

She grins as she tells me, “Those pictures are probably going to generate more activity on my account than all my previous posts.”

It isn’t long before they serve our food. Something neither Honoka nor I have had before. Steak Fettuccine Alfredo. Alongside that is a garden salad and French bread garlic toast. I quirk an eyebrow at Jenny when the waiter? butler? whatever he’s called pours Honoka and I a glass of white wine.

“I asked Haruka, and she said it was fine for you two to have a glass or three.”

Shrugging, I pick up my glass and take a small sip to find it’s very, very good. A little fruity with a hint of sweetness. Turning to Honoka I murmur, “You have to try the wine. It’s so good.”

She picks up her glass, and her eyes widen when she takes a sip. “Wow! You’re right, that is good. I don’t usually like alcohol.”

Dinner may have been what Jenny called simple, but it was delicious. Something I definitely plan on having again. After dinner, Jenny and Mark take us on a tour of the White House. They point out where various paintings and other art were from and who gave them. The final place we end up is the Grand Foyer where all the portraits of the Presidents are hung.

I point out one. “Is that President Polaski?”

“Mhmm. He was a good man.”

“What happened?”

“The doctors said he had a massive heart attack. Personally, I think it was stress induced. God knows that I’ve had more than my fair share of stress to deal with after I assumed the office.”

I look back up at his portrait as I ask, “Jenny, what are you planning to do when you leave office? I ask because I have something in mind if you don’t have any plans.”

She comes up behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. “And, what might that be?”

I look over my shoulder at her. “I want you to come work with me.”

“With? Not for?”

I nod. “I meant what I said. My top level people work with me, not for me. I would be constantly overwhelmed if I had to make every single decision that’s required to get things done. I need smart, reliable, loyal people who can do that. There are other things as well, but if you accept, we can talk about them after you leave office.”

Mark chuckles, and we both look at him, “Come on, Jenny. I know you well enough to know when you want to do something. Tell her yes, and be done with it.”

I ask him, “What about you and your job?”
He shrugs slightly. “I can do my job anywhere. Most of it’s done remotely anyway.” I look at him questioningly. “Sora, I’m a disaster relief coordinator. Basically, I make sure that the people on the ground get everything they need to do their jobs.”

I look back up at Jenny, and she says, “According to the polling, I’m pretty much guaranteed to win my reelection this November. Working with you sounds great, but it will be January of 2065 before I can.”

I nod. “Please, don't think of me as rude for asking, but how old are you?”

She smiles. “I don’t think you’re being rude, Princess. I’m 46.”

“Then, do me a favor. Take the fertility treatment soon, I’ll get you more if it doesn’t work, but if it does work, Mark, you and I will need to have another conversation.”

“Alright. I have a lull in appointments next week, so I’ll do it then.”

　◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

I doubt it took either of us more than a few seconds to fall asleep when we crawled back into bed last night, and we slept like rocks until the alarm went off this morning.

It simply doesn’t feel natural only taking a shower and not being able to soak in a hot bath afterward. Of course, I’m sure many of you Americans out there think that the way we bathe is strange as well. This also means that we finish bathing much quicker than we normally would have. Once we put on our makeup, I style her hair in a chignon, and she does mine in a French Twist.

Do you remember that slinky grey cable knit sweater mini dress I wore to work not long ago? Mama packed it for me to wear, so that is what I’m wearing today, along with shimmery white stockings and my white suede thigh boots. The combination of being really cute, professional and somewhat sexy is something I really love about the outfit.

Mama had packed a maroon version of the same type dress for Honoka, only hers is a turtle neck, so she chose it, along with sheer black stockings and her red knee boots. I’d say she is rockin’ the look.

You can say a lot of things about my nanites, but the way my parents programmed them to bring out the ideal girl in you is phenomenal. I wonder if Dakota and her team, or I, will be able to replicate the effect for men?

While we eat, Jenny tells me that she got the FAA to approve a high speed, high altitude flight from here to Texas. We have to be at 18,000 meters before we can exceed the speed of sound, but even so, it’ll save so much time. It would have been a rather long flight otherwise.

After we eat and say our goodbyes to Jenny and Mark, I call Jason to have them meet us at the Osprey, and the secret service takes us back to Andrews to drop us off. I’ve already been told that agents will be meeting us on the tarmac at the Austin-Bergstrom Airport in Austin. No matter what they say, they are not relegating Jason’s team to the side this time. They had the right to do so since it was the White House, but not there.

We, and our Escort of F-48’s, lifted off from Andrews 40 minutes later, climbed to altitude and accelerated to Mach 5. A few minutes into our flight, two of the fighters peeled off and raced to the south-west of us at a very high speed. Curious as to what’s going on, I head up to the cockpit to ask the pilot, who explains that a plane has ignored repeated warnings to veer off of our flight path. The thing is that no one, other than military aircraft, are authorized to fly at our altitude. He further tells me that civilian aircraft are limited to 12,000 meters over the continental US. It turns out that it was a US Air Force C-77 transport with radio problems. The pilot said it was curious, but not all that alarming, since he should have been squawking an emergency code. Personally, I think the flight team is in for a rather bad chewing out at the very least. A couple of minutes later, they rejoin on our wingtips as if nothing had happened.

A short 15 minutes later, we slowed down as we descended to take up position in a landing pattern.

Have I mentioned that I love my plane? Well, I love my plane! Yes, I know I am a bit of a princess, but there’s nothing wrong with that, unless you are a spoiled one, and that I definitely am not. Although I did find out one aspect of my plane that slightly upset me. It has an auto-defense package run by an AI that will defend the plane whenever it feels itself being threatened. That it would defend itself, and by extension me, isn’t what bothered me. It’s that it’s only a level 5 AI. Those are normally used for the most routine of things. I’d prefer one with a bit more discriminatory power to determine whether there is an actual threat or not. I’ve been told that I have a lot of fans, so imagine me landing somewhere and fans breaking through to get a closer look at me. Not a comfortable thought since a level 5 would be likely to open fire.

So, we land a few minutes later and are met by Bill, and a combination of Texas Rangers and Secret Service.

After introductions, Bill says, “I apologize, Sora, but it slipped out that you were coming, so you have a few thousand people waiting outside the airport to meet with you. I’m afraid that if you don’t, there’ll be a riot.”

I stare at him indignantly for a few moments, before spitting out, “Fine. I’ll talk to them, but you releasing information is something you, I and President Wilson will be discussing, understood?”

He gulps and nods. I know he knows that he shouldn’t have. My movements are classified for a reason, and he did it simply to gain political favor. Well, two can play at that game, and I assure you that I will come out on top.

So a short trip later, Bill leads me onto a temporary stage, and introduces me. The cheers and applause are literally deafening. Stepping up to the mic as I smile and wave at the crowd, the camera flashes are literally blinding in their intensity. “Wow!” I chuckle. “Wow is all I can say here. I never expected this. Thank you!” The cheers are overwhelming, and I have to stop for a moment. “Seriously? You need to calm down!” I laugh good naturedly. “Come on, I can’t spend all day here, I have things I need to do.”

Thankfully they begin to settle down. “I truly never expected this. I was informed not long ago that I have a large following here in the US. Sorry, but I don’t use or follow social media, so I had no idea.” I gesture to all of them. “This is amazing to me, and I’m truly at a loss for anything to say, unless you want me to bore you to death by giving a treatise the physics of space travel or the like.” The crowd laughs, whoops and claps.

I glance at Bill. “It seems someone leaked my arrival. That’s fine though, this merely reiterates what Jenny, President Wilson, told me last night. I need to create and maintain a social media presence. You have my word that I will do that from now on, although it may not allow you access to every aspect of my life, it will give you a good overview of it, alright?”

Again the cheers are overwhelming along with several calls of, “don’t forget pictures!”

I laugh again. “Alright, I promise, I won’t forget pictures. Listen to me though, many Japanese may be okay with sharing every aspect of their lives with you, but I’m not, nor in a lot of cases, can I do so. I’ll be happy to share what I can with you, and if you ever have questions that you would like answered about my life, ask away. I’ll answer as many as I can and be as open and honest as I'm allowed.”

I see Bill out of the corner of my eye giving me the wrap it up signal. “I’m really sorry to say this, but I need to leave now. I have things to do and places to be. It was truly eye-opening to meet you all. I promise to increase my media presence… It was nice to meet you all. Have a great day and I’ll be sure to visit Texas again. How could I not after a greeting like this?”

With thunderous applause and deafening cheering, I step back from the mic curtsy to them all, then smile and wave as I walk off the stage. Bill walks with us off the stage, and I look at him frowning as we walk. “You really owe me for this! Don’t ever do it again, or I’ll walk away and let you deal with the aftermath. Is that understood?”

He takes us back to his office at the capital. Once we take a seat, he asks, “So, Sora, can you explain what this is all about?”

“I want to build a space elevator in Texas.”

“A what?”

“A means to get to space without rockets. Bill, this would mean literally billions of dollars of income for Texas every single year it’s in operation, and it’ll be in operation for a very long time.

“Buying the land would also be a huge boon to you, although we would prefer that you cede it to coalition authority.”

“Cede it?”

I nod. “Japan ceded a whole island to them to build one. The cost of not doing so would far exceed anything they would have made in the short term, although in the long run, they would have far more, even if it would have bankrupted Japan trying to build it. Look at it this way: they’ll still be making huge sums of money once it is up and running. Import and export taxes and the like make up the bulk of it.”

“And if we ceded this territory?”

“We bear the financial burden of building it, maintaining security, and everything else.”

“So, short term, nothing for us, but long term we bring in billions.”

“I wouldn’t say that, since you’ll need a heavy lift airport close to there and a much expanded road capacity to support it. That means immediate jobs, well paying jobs at that. We’ll be paying a large percentage of those costs as well.”

“Sora, that all sounds good, but how do I know that they’ll abide by any agreement we make?”

“Easy, I’m the sole representative of the coalition. I may be 15, but my decision is final when it comes to the coalition. They can not second guess me by treaty. I hold final authority on all agreements we make. All you need to do is look up the coalition charter, and you’ll see that. Assuming you don’t believe me, that is.”

He shakes his head. “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. It’s merely that politics are fluid and that's what I’m worried about.”

I chuckle. “That’s a novel way of saying stabbing someone in the back. Bill, trust me when I say that isn’t going to happen here. I’m not likely to be replaced, so I will be the one you deal with and I never break my promises. Bill, I’m serious here. All I need from you and the state legislature is either a perpetual lease or ceding the territory, and we’ll absorb the cost.”

He laughs. “Did anyone ever tell you that you drive a hard bargain?”

I smile sweetly and reply, “All the time. You don’t really believe I got to where I am by being a pushover, do you?”

He chuckles and says, “I’m not even going to try playing with you. I somehow get the feeling that I’d lose if I did. Alright, just tell me what you need, and I promise that I’ll beat it through the legislature.”

He lays out a map with a long list of what meets our requirements. I peruse not only the list, but where they are located. One site catches my total attention. West Texas out by a small town called Marfa.

I finally point to a place and tell him, “Right here. This place.”

Where I’m pointing is a little south of Marfa on highway 67. It's isolated, although with a small town fairly close. It’s perfect. All the other places along the 30th parallel are too far from highways or something similar or are right next to major metropolitan centers.

He doesn’t look too sure about it, so I tell him, “I’m positive about this. We’ll have to expand highway access, but that is something we can do over time.”