Elemorts

Chapter XX - Balance of Power

"I must say, you are being very unreasonable, ma'am," Mr. Bonnel complained.

"I think I am being very reasonable, sir," the girl with the long hair insisted with a smile. "This particular patch belongs to me now. I will gladly show you the contract signed by the President if you say so. My team is busy at work here, and I am afraid we cannot afford any interruptions. I'm sorry, I can't be of any help to you. Good day to you, sir."

Beralaxon sighed in exasperation. He had not traveled across the galaxy to listen to endless debate. Couldn't they have sorted this out before hauling me here? he thought. And how does drug-making take precedence over ancient, powerful artifacts anyway?

They stood in the middle of a gravel-lined path that had led them from a hunting lodge deep into the Malorawa Forest. Tree stumps were scattered all around the track, gradually giving way to still-standing trees, the most abundant of which were the pines.

Several pharmaceutical company workers were busy extracting the sap from a particular type of tree that dotted the pines.

"I am not disputing the fact that this patch belongs to you. I am only asking that you let us through, and we will be on our way," Mr. Bonnel stated. "There is no need to waste our time here."

"Well, then why don't you go on and call your folks while you're at it and have a nice old picnic here in our hair all day?" the guy with silver hair said gruffly. He stood next to the girl with his arms crossed.

"Pardon?" Mr. Bonnel asked in confusion after a pause.

"What guarantee do we have that you are here to do what you claim?" the man asked, pushing his hair back.

Beralaxon sighed and shifted his attention to his holophone. He had already opened a Karomozian news site, although he had it on mute. Some Felitte actress seemed to be holding a press conference at Hotel Grande.

From the tickers, Beralaxon could judge that she was prattling on about her recent turmoils and how everyone should gather to locate and help some 'missing fighters.' Beralaxon rolled his eyes. Nothing worse than an actress trying to sound wise. He put his holophone back into the pocket of his turquoise gilet and looked up once again.

Look at them groveling before me now, Florinok thought. When the poor were dying, they couldn't care less. Now that the elite were afflicted, suddenly, the whole Karomozian administrative machinery revved up to make sure Florinok had undisputed access to the groves of nimtrees and that the production of her cure commenced at a high priority.

The only thing that bothered her was that the government had appointed those same nasty men — whom Zablaron identified as Crimson Crows — for security purposes. She had her own guards watching over her team, but she did not feel one bit comfortable with these crows around. There was no telling what they could do. Karomoz needs the drug, she assured herself. They can't afford to cause any problems.

"Why are you doing this? Just to spite us? You know we mean no harm... we can't possibly do any harm." That came from the woman named Cearlin from Mr. Bonnel's team. A young blonde dressed in khakis with a pink, puffy face and hair in a braid, she had joined Beralaxon and Mr. Bonnel on Karomoz.

"That's a bit rich coming from you," Rosa countered, stepping up from behind Florinok. She had called Rosa to Karomoz as soon as she had been granted access to the forest. It had been worth the while — her mere presence made Florinok feel all the more at ease. "When Ms. Lephyte wanted in — rightfully, might I add — you weren't that willing to comply, were you?"

"It was not up to us," the blonde archaeologist replied. "We are just archaeologists. It was the security firm appointed by the government that accosted you — not our fault."