Liberi Reader

Attention all company representatives and testers: Propeller Paradise will link up with D.C. in two hours.

The park's broadcast will begin once we're in range of the intercity net. Please make sure your exhibits are all functioning optimally. Air Expo Columbia is about to begin!

Look, that's Tower Mountains' finbeast airship! I heard they made a lot of last minute modifications and greatly improved its heat resistance.

And that solar-powered hover kitchen kit! With a power source that works even beyond the Starpod... I've been curious ever since I first read the brochure!

Whoa!

Good thing you only hit the window rail, instead of getting your whole head stuck in there.

The expo's about to begin. Aren't you nervous at all?

Relax. Professionals always have an escape plan ready. I'll get you out when the time's right.

You want to leave already?

N-No, sir! Of course not!

Whatever, I'm just here to hand over some stuff.

......

That's a lot of papers. Are these records and investigation forms? And the name on them—Ferne Barn?

Vandalizing public property, theft of cultural relics, trespassing, impersonating a guide... why's a little indie guide worth your trouble to scrutinize five years of work history?

We just need your signature down here, and you'll spend the rest of your life in jail introducing folks to handcuffs and shackles.

What do you want?

The expo's about to begin, but we need more hands on deck. We can't afford to lock up the park's only two guides, that would waste time and resources.

But there are too many records with your name on them, and you're connected to Nasti Lunorey.

So you've decided to threaten me?

Stay in line, and this is a chance to wipe your rap sheets clean, you know.

Seems like I don't have a choice.

Save your thanks for Gustave. He was the one who proposed it to the Maylander Emergency Management Council. The two of you would be missing out on this expo marking the beginning of a new era without him.

I'm sure you heard the broadcast too. Before the park plate drives into the intercity net's range and begins the live stream, make sure you're fully prepared to introduce the future to every Columbian out there.

I get it. I'll finish all the studio work, and won't leave the park before the expo ends.

Good deal.

Then come on out, you two. Time to get to work.

'On behalf of all Leithanians, I express my most sincere congratulations for the upcoming Air Expo Columbia to be held on the experimental Propeller Paradise.'

Take a guess, who signed it in the end?

Conductor of the Güldenes...gesatz, uh, Guardian of the Nine Kreise... anyway, one with a string of titles neither of us could pronounce—

The Kaiserin.

The late Maylander Sr. always said those with a keen sense for politics never lose it, and it seems that holds true.

Miss Wilson.

I'd rather keep a keen sense for wine-tasting, honestly.

Laterano took half a century to hold their Summit of Nations, an event you could say was the largest diplomatic event on Terra in nearly two centuries, yet Leithanien only sent over a few insignificant dukes as delegates.

But our tiny Air Expo Columbia has got a personal letter of congratulations from the Kaiserin...

Mr. Vice President, Propeller Paradise has sent over a gift. A bunch of balloons in the shape of the President, most of which are already decorating the hallways.

Thank you, Pavard.

Perhaps you could return the Kaiserin's wishes with a balloon like that one?

And let the Gesatzswächter and Spire Casters spend three days carefully dismantling it into rubber scrap?

It seems to be an average balloon for decorative purposes.

I fear that is no longer the case, since the letter was penned by the Kaiserin. It'll 'transform' into the most cutting-edge military tech—an aerial bomb disguised as a balloon, sent floating into another country's airspace.

And how many congratulations like that have you received?

Let's see. Victorian Grand Dukes, the Ursine Speaker, the Grand Knight of Kazimierz... I'll run out of fingers to count on.

The VP before me spent four years worrying about immigration and tariffs, but me?

Impregnable cities got captured, a never-changing sky got ripped open, and a long-silent ocean began to speak.

After all that, the core nations unanimously decided 'balloons are always aerial bombs in disguise'.

And what about us?

Oh, this balloon of ours can't even fly.

Before the balloons were sent over, the flammable hydrogen got replaced with regular air... for safety reasons, of course.

How safe and careful we Columbians are.

This sounds like a serious matter of national security, but you're discussing it with a retiree...?

Inside the State Building, the finest reception hall in all of D.C., even?

It's hard to imagine retirement making things any different for Jara Booker Wilson.

My hospitality is hardly befitting the once Eternally Shining Star, or Rhine Lab's former Director of HR.

These days, people seem more willing to be moved by a legend or miracle than by politics or promises.

Even the most rational congressmen are no exception.

If you're referring to the few meetings I had with Congressman Wayne, I believe you've already expressed your gratitude... with those unique souvenirs from Kjerag.

That was just a personal token of my gratitude. Besides, I later realized the scientists at the observation station must have sent you something similar before.

If you show up and give the right people the chance to put hydrogen back into Columbia's balloons, I'm sure I won't be the only one in line to thank you.

To my understanding, the most suitable people to do it would be those who made the balloon in the first place.

I've stepped in on their behalf quite a few times.

Researchers are as sincere as children. I can never bear to see their hopes dashed.

You're right that retirement has made no difference to me whatsoever, though.

Of course, we all know how important Rhine is to you.

Look. Propeller Paradise... you don't even need binoculars to see it anymore.

We need only wait and see what they'll turn Columbia's balloons into.

Look! This high-altitude adaptive balloon in the shape of the President is one of our hot souvenirs!

A thin film on the balloon's surface automatically adjusts its molecular structure according to the environment, so it won't explode, even if it collides with the Barrier.

Think about it, Miss! Just how many balloons could we fit under the Barrier?

......

I remember agents are required to pass a university-level physics fundamentals exam.

Isn't this park's purpose to push the boundaries of physics itself?

Are you implying those samples and snacks on you are for research purposes?

(Satisfied chewing)

Just for disguise purposes. I'm about to buy some fresh cotton candy planets over at platform four—a small vacuum chamber that can simulate the birth and development of Terra... don't you think it romantic?

At least, that's less boring than having to transport a special someone.

Special... you mean that Banshee?

Yeah, the one you were in charge of before.

So the Tin Man already knew...

He said you had an urgent mission to handle, so we'll take over evacuating the special individual.

Væla in bad shape. You'll have to be very careful.

I know, an old Banshee has to be skilled in witchcraft, no? We'll set up cognitive interference detectors to make sure nothing goes awry.

Cognitive interference? But she's already being tormented by her shattered memories—

Man, where my colleagues at? We have to evacuate all park personnel from the levitation layer in the next half hour, or I won't get to buy any souvenirs.

This is the last chance we'll get to see such weird stuff.

......

I think you should go buy your cotton candy planets. They won't be coming.

Huh? I—

I'm... at the ropeway station?

Right, I gotta go to platform four, or I'll miss out on the cotton candy.

......

Madam Væla, my apologies, but I only bought you thirty minutes.

Act on your desires. You're free.

......

The door, is open.

Guiding me... home?

...But where is... Nasti...?

There's still an hour before the broadcast begins. Which necktie should I wear...?

Tch. Is Gustave still deciding who will make the opening speech? Drag it out any longer and we'll have no time to prepare the script!

An hour won't be enough to list all my countless contributions to the park. There are also the many organizations and departments to thank for all the help they've given me, they deserve the recognition...

Everything will go as planned, surely...?

What am I thinking!? We may not get along, but there's no way he'll side with a Kuranta he's only known for a few days.

*sigh* Even at the very end, Gustave never changes. Using every trick up his sleeve to keep his lackeys in line, just to make them do as they're told.

We're like a bunch of kids. Getting all nervous over a little prize we deserve.

How come Five-Four's not back yet? Wasn't it supposed to just check the office for any news?

Who's that?!

...A letter?

I knew it... I knew it!

After hesitating for so long, he settles on the obvious choice, me!

How much effort did I put in just to snatch the opportunity to transfer here? How much did I have to finagle to climb the ladder from my lowly admin job in six months?

I'm the chief executive of Propeller Paradise, I'm the only one who can front it!

Oh, he even wrote a speech for me? That sly old fox, never leaves anything to chance.

'My fellow Columbians, I am Gordon Tannen, the chief executive of Propeller Paradise. I'm sure I've kept you waiting in front of your screens for some time now.'

'Now, it is with a heavy heart that I announce the official cancellation of Air Expo Columbia. A major accident occurred in the park, and as the one in charge of the place, I bear an undeniable responsibility for this...'

Wait, an accident? Is this a mistake? This is a—

A public apology?

Alert! Alert!

Patrol complete, letter not obtained. Part of the path has been blocked by a group of Terrans. Based on their travel route, they are presumably heading toward the levitation layer's experiment zone.

At the same time, detecting several high-powered Originium products on the move, bearing cargo identification tags...

They belong to Gordon Tannen.

My tags...?

Did you get the speech, Tannen?

So? Can you do it?

......

All I have to do, is do as I'm told.