Nod. Sigh. "Anything come up here while I was gone that I should know?"

"We were trying to think how to conduct an evacuation without provoking the escalation you're afraid of," says the President. "Your friends don't think there's any other way and I will confess I cannot think of one."

Nod.

"If the Enemy has the capabilities he demonstrated when he destroyed Valinor's Suns, it seems likely he could kill everything on this planet the minute he learned we had a way off it. Do you have ideas on how to stop that from happening?"

"Any idea how he'd do it?"

"We could do that," Maitimo says. "The systems we use for electrical power in Valinor require the Valar to bend Valinor's protections so they can run, because they'd otherwise be dangerous. If you ran them here and you ran them too hot you could poison a lot of land. The Enemy might know a lot more than that but anyone who'd spent time in Valinor would know that."

"Fission?" Cam asks.

"Yes. I'm sure there are better ways to kill people, that wasn't really our focus."

"I can do radiation shielding subject to usual concerns about doing more or less anything."

"If he's smart he'll wait until you're on a trip to the refugee planet to try whatever he tries."

"Of course he will."

At that point the air raid sirens blare again. Everyone stands. The locals look positively bored. "It's right downstairs. You're welcome to come along if you want to keep talking, Cam, it'll probably be half an hour."

"Yeah, sure." Down Cam goes. He notifies the orc family that he will be delayed but is working out what comes next please don't panic.

The shelter under the palace is clean, spacious, even sort of furnished. They keep talking. "One option would be for someone else to fly the lightleapers, but then someone else has to know the destination," someone offers. "Though I guess you could have an oath that makes that safe."

Cam plops on a sort of furnishing. "Only if Melkor can't just get it off their chip directly."

"He must have been lying about that," the President says immediately. "There's no way he can redirect the chips. He must have sworn something like 'I have struck a great blow against the Elf-gods. No longer will they torture you when you die. I can preserve minds and someday I shall restore them."

"Possible." Let's see was it transcribed.

It was! It's in all the orc newspapers. The President is half-right. "I swear to you that this is true: the Elf-god magic no longer holds the planet of the dead in its twisted thrall around the Elven suns. I have claimed the means to keep your souls out of the Elf-gods' hands. Someday we shall develop the technology to resurrect every dead orc."

"That can't be," the President says.

"If the Enemy already knows..." Maitimo says. "It can. We did it. We were trying to start an Eldarin kingdom outside Valinor, we wanted control of our own backups. Note he doesn't say that he is keeping their souls. He may know that he has the means but not know how to employ them."

Nod nod.

"You fools," the President says. 

"We didn't think he could assassinate our King and sack the palace in Valinor. I very deeply regret having had any part in strengthening our common foe, but I still haven't really given up the hope the Silmarils can be employed for exactly the purpose the Enemy means to put them to, by someone more trustworthy."

And then someone knocks on the shelter door. "Mr. President? They didn't drop bombs. They dropped letters."

...Cam wants one. Now he has one.

And conveniently it's in Quenya.

Please communicate to the newcomers that the tale of their violent departure from Valinor has reached us, that we commend their ruthlessness against their unarmed kin at Alqualonde, and that we are interested in negotiating a truce in the interests of unity against our common foes the Valar. We are willing to offer a year's ceasefire during which you may safely evacuate the continent. Do not attempt to begin the evacuation before we meet to speak, or we will consider this a rejection of the truce. I had the pleasure of an acquaintance with the King's eldest grandson in Valinor and look forward to seeing him, the winged man, and any two others of their choosing on the Federated Falas northern border in three days' time. Please come prepared to swear to a ceasefire for the duration of the talks.

What an interesting correspondence. Cam hands it to Maitimo.

Some are also in the local language. The President gets handed one of those. There's a minute's quiet. Then:

"How did you leave Valinor, exactly?" the President says. "If I need to know more than that the Enemy commends you for it."

"I hope I don't need to point out that he's playing you," Maitimo says. 

"Yes, obviously. What happened."

"We needed lightleapers to make it here and at the Valar's encouragement we were refused them and we tried to take them anyway. Everyone was unarmed, on both sides, but it turns out ship-to-ship fighting is very deadly anyway."

"Lovely."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Get my people off this world alive."

"Yes, sir."

"This is obviously a bad idea in some way," Cam says, "but it is a bad idea in a predictable, exploitable way."