"Catmother forbid.

So you're thinking that Lucy Carver is a variety of alien with the training or breeding to specialize her for ruling?"

"Not necessarily that in particular. That's just an example of how friendship with leadership might be unreliable. And of course elves don't have friends; it's just an illustration. 

Do you know where our food is coming from?"

"We're paying for half of it."

"I mean literally where is it coming from."

"From Nitatlel, on a barge through the Argo aqueduct, then by ship to Orocide?"

"Yep, from Nitatlel! From a whole other country. Currently we and Lei are paying Allheart for this to happen, but normally, Argolake and the drydark towns get fed without anyone paying."

"Just like the dark end of any county?"

"Well, yes... This is just an extreme example. Why do they send food?"

"Because if they didn't, Argolake would stop the aqueduct, and they're not protected by the Freedom to Live."

"Chime claims Argolake can't stop the aqueduct. But maybe she's wrong - she was just guessing from what she saw while passing through. What if they did, then what would Nitatlel do?"

"There are many diplomatic approaches."

"Suppose everything fails except war, and Nitatlel takes Argolake. What happens then?"

"They would fix the aqueduct... I don't see your point. If the aliens refuse to operate their machines, we could take Nivis and do it ourselves? You're saying we can't do that, and that's why this is different from every other trading relationship on Ansaf?"

"I think it's an interesting situation: the geography - including the artificial aqueduct - causes there to be a town on the dark side of the mountains and a trading relationship between it and the people on the bright side. Of course, it doesn't say anything about the people's happiness or freedom or democracy. But the trade is destined to happen."

"And trade with the aliens is not so guaranteed, because... because their machines and possible magic - and our magic - are not just lying there like geography. This trade can actually fail."

"Yes. Our job is to make sure that the trade happens, that the system is healthy."

"Ah, that theory. Don't you always emphasize yourself that a system being 'healthy' doesn't mean that it's morally good?"

"Yes, but I'm not worried. Because neither Ansaf nor Exodus can dominate the other, the only threat is Lei, and they're in a weak position.

When proper diplomatic talks start, my job as FD representative will be to promote trade, to keep Lei from deceiving the aliens, and to negotiate in those few cases which still must be negotiated by countries and not smaller groups, such as Exodus getting land in the chartreuse."

Mofil checks for eavesdroppers. "We might be able to dominate the aliens, although it would be evil and obviously risky to try. And they might be able to dominate us; their diplomatic magic could be dangerous."

"The trade could still fail, since we don't need each other, like the people on each side of a county need food or water."

"Less desperation is good."

"I suppose there's a balance between the trade being sure to happen, and the parties' ability to push for favorable terms."

The Bridge is an armored box which survived the destructive landing in mostly one piece, with bits of the surrounding compartments still attached, barely-recognizable crushed and distorted metal shapes like strands of rind clinging to the skin of a fruit. It rests at a fifteen degree angle, leaning forward and to the right. The first challenge is actually getting up there.

Luckily, they were sane enough to bring along plenty of ladders, rope, and other miscellaneous tools. Improvising a path up to the most intact section of corridor leading up to the main bridge chamber takes about twenty minutes, and involves hauling a sheet of metal to the most precarious gap and then fixing it in place with a portable arc welder. It's ugly as sin but it'll stand up to being walked on.

The bulkhead door resists them a little longer, since the whole frame is warped in a way that pins it in place, but Shen knows where to cut to shear off the hinges and bolts. With power tools, elbow grease, swearing, and another twenty minutes, they can get through that, too.