Wednesday, September 24. 9:00 hours.

The Council of State was the supreme body of power in the country, the closest thing to a government, and the attendees were the equivalent of ministers from other countries. Its members were the lords and ladies of the ten estates in the country, six of them located in Alfar and four in Betia, and therefore six were men and four women; this unbalanced distribution had been the case for centuries, so that by modern standards it might be surprising that only four of the ten council seats were held by women, but on the other hand, it was not many decades ago that it was surprising that there were powerful women expressing themselves and making decisions, even if they were only four out of ten. Usually, the council met in Bisinia, the capital of the country, which was administratively within the estate of Kamar. Today, an informational meeting was to be held, and due to scheduling issues, only the men were present, although the female councilors would be informed after the meeting via special mail.

Kamar Abumón stood up to speak. In the circular room, the other five men waited with interest, seated around the table, and could not entirely hide their impatience. They had been summoned urgently, and everyone was aware that they might hear important news.

"I have met with the heir of the late Benassur. And I must confess that I am quite perplexed; either he is an excellent liar or everything he appears to be is true."

A murmur of disapproval and bewilderment grew among those present, which, however, subsided so they could continue listening to what Kamar had to say.

"As you know, the slave with whom he presented himself at the customs office was a Russian spy. In contrast, he had no background of interest: a humble Spanish professor of lower-middle class who frequently travels abroad but always on family and tourist circuits. Apparently, his encounter with the Russian and therefore his relationship was casual. And his homosexuality is well-documented."

"How did he meet the spy?" one of the five asked.

"We don't know for sure. The Russian was about to fall into our hands, had a patrol of Somali mercenaries about to capture him to hand him over to us, but he disappeared almost under their noses; we believe that Jorge Rojo, (now Jorge Tharakos, I'll explain it to you), picked him up by chance while traveling to Sunrut."

"Too much coincidence, don't you think, Kamar?" another attendee said with suspicion.

"Yes, it also seemed that way to me, of course. But what didn't make sense is that he would bring him, so to speak, to the lion's mouth, since he served him to us on a platter by taking him through the border post."

"It's true, that doesn't make sense," the objector acknowledged. "Unless he thought we wouldn't detect him."

"Moreover, not only has he not opposed the Russian being subjected to soma, but now he uses it with...