* * *
A week before the inauguration, the Migrants Chamber of Commerce held an urgent secret meeting. The warehouse used was small to accommodate the over a hundred packed within. The stifling heat made everyone sweat and got the tense situation worse. Arguments and discussions sparked among members in small tight clusters as they waited for Changlai's arrival. Unable to contain his frustration, one stood on top of a desk and shouted, “Listen everyone. The Rians promised to help us build our own city in a place of our choice. With that offer, I do not see any reason why we should go on with our plan to take control of the Rians and their technology.”
“Yes, I agree,” said another in the crowd aloud. “There is no sense fighting if we will have our own city.”
“Where is Changlai?” someone asked impatiently.
“He will come,” Ki answered.
“The information we paid was too expensive,” someone complained.
“Yes,” agreed another and added, “We also paid dearly for the swords. How do we know Changlai is not pocketing our money?”
Ki replied, “Changlai is an honest man. You can trust him,” and on seeing Changlai enter the room, said with relief, “Here he comes. Changlai,” he called out as he waved at him to come directly to where he stood.
Changlai weaved through men in the packed room, and on reaching Ki, said, “I’m sorry for being late.”
“Glad you’re here,” Ki said with great relief. “The members are having second thoughts. Many feel we are doing the wrong thing.”
Changlai became furious, his face reddened. “Let me address the members,” he said to Ki.
Ki replied, eagerly, “Please.”
Changlai found a crate and stood on it then bluntly addressed the crowd in an angry voice, “I have no time as you businessmen do things at your leisure,” he taunted aloud. “If there is a difference between you and me, I deal with lives, not money, and have no time for idle chatters. If you decide not to push through, I will not argue,” he said strongly. “But before you make that decision, consider very carefully . . . this is our only chance. Once this opportunity is gone and you are wrong, think of what our life will be under the prince. Remember, the Rians’ promise is worth nothing if Prince Otil gets to them first. For your information, the reason for my being late was I had to see an informer to confirm the information I got from another informant. Hear me well,” he stressed forcefully, “Prince Otil will take over his father's kingdom right after the palace dinner during the inaugural ceremony. Once in power, we, the leaders in the Migrants community, will be under his rule. I think you have a fairly good idea what kind of life that will be. I say we go as planned.”
Ki and Changlai went to another room and left the members to argue the pros and cons among themselves. At the end of a heated discussion, they decided to go on as Changlai planned.
INAUGURATION DAY
After twenty-five years and eight months and with four months to spare, the Atomic Converter was fully operational. The three pyramid monuments constructed needed but the inscription within its hallways and chambers for its completion. King Arth’s lion monument, an imposing sight, was done. At the quarry site, two massive and polished granite obelisks, a hundred-fifty-foot-tall and fifty feet wide at its four-sided base, bore Amo Obib and King Arth's messages deeply inscribed, awaited transport. It would be brought and placed at its site as part of the grand ceremony on the day the Rians leave Earth.
The Rians officially announced the postponement of their departure date to help build the city they promised the Migrants, a sparsely populated island in the Mediterranean (known today as the island of Crete).
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