He had pleaded exhaustion, promised to return to the topic in the morning, and excused himself. Gustav Jones had almost blurted out in relief that he had been wondering the very same thing as the Ambassador, and had held himself back by the narrowest margin.

His head had suddenly filled with paranoia, as he imagined himself jobless, homeless, and stuck in Koagrad. He was Verdan born, but a Tertian by nature; he emigrated to Floragyas and quickly ascended to Systems Engineer at the Third Trust Algae Pools.

That was then. Now, not two weeks had passed since the first assemblies, mobs, and riots. Jones’ own career seemed like a long abandoned hobby. What boggled him was that he could not figure out what he had done to become speechwriter to a newly appointed ambassador, thus Drawing him away from the algae pools. His engineering position must have been replaced by now.

And I’m sure as he’ll not going to admit inexperience in speechwriting and compromise this job too, he thought on the way back to his room.