18: Infiltration

The sun rose eagerly over the picture-perfect city of Deltis. Crawling with humans and babuks alike, the bright and welcoming streets of the tropical paradise were alive with the noise of the early morning. The beachside restaurants had opened their doors to the wealthy cohort of tourists, and the health-wise residents were running up and down the beach like ants, following the same linear path as one another, and as yesterday.
Great mounds of rock and dirt, wrapped generously in a dark green carpet of luscious, rose high behind the city’s buildings like regal watchtowers. They were guarding the peaceful dwelling, beaming proudly at the little children clustered along the shore, and around their feet.
And right in the middle was a fast narrow river. Between where it appeared, falling out from behind the watchtowers, to where it splashed into the ocean, there were ten bridges built over it. Each one was greater in size the further from the coast the bridge was built. On the largest of which sat the city’s most famous construction. It was wedged between the spurs of two mountains, over that gushing and prosperous river Thora, which came crashing down from atop a rocky cliff and rushed beneath the building. That wondrous building. Gammana.
Great Gammis-Manasan’s creation was built entirely atop that last bridge, that spanned from a green slope on one side of the river, to a luscious mountainside on the other. Behind it, the Thora Waterfall roared, and sprayed the air with a fine, watery mist. The great thing was less a bridge than a giant platform held solidly above the river. The enormous construction had never been used to get from one side of the Thora to the other. The bridge was also built no higher than ten meters from the raging river beneath it, so that two sets of stairs could run down from the right and left of the construction’s façade, and set their feet in the ground on either bank of the river.
Atop this magnificently central bridge there sat a huge castle, not very tall, but wide, and elaborate in its architecture. Like something out of an old Norlantian fantasy story, the castle looked as if it were one with the nature it had been raised in. Its greens, and its browns, and its greys. It was like a palace; a dwelling place fit for even the king of Babuja. Fitter, even, given that it was far larger than Relfak’s glass abode!
Not at all did this place look like the labouring factory that it was. Rather, to the untrained eye it would seem to be a resort of the finest quality, reserved for only the richest of people. Though if people looked closely enough, they would see the many purple-clad workers hurrying out from the castle’s doors, across the building’s several courtyards (which existed on many different levels), and disappearing again behind the thing’s walls. Or perhaps they could see them working on the outside stations, or spending their shifts staring out to sea from the lofty balconies. The factory was a beautiful feat of architecture, looking down on the wonderful city of Deltis like a father, full of business, life and productivity.
But nobody was looking at the little purple people. Far more interesting was the hovering black limousine that pulled up before the black gates that barred the way to the foot of the Eastern stairs, and the elaborate garden that surrounded it.
The vehicle came to a smooth stop right before those black gates, which were aptly decorated with the Gammana emblem: the shield that was comprised of two dragoyas and the ancient ‘gamma’ symbol.
Local shoppers and inquisitive tourists looked on in curiosity as the car’s doors opened, revealing but three men. Each man wore a black suit, a black shirt, and a startling crimson tie. To see such well-dressed businessmen roll up to the gates of renowned yet casual Hasaluf Gammis-Manasan’s factory was not a common sight.
This must have something to do with Hasaluf’s death! The locals thought as they watched. Or the take over of the company by the Norlantian Ambassador.
But they could only speculate as they watched the three men leave their vehicle right where it was, and stroll up to the shielded gates. The wrought metal looked hardly as black next to the men.
A little old grey haired man with a white hard hat in a purple jump suit stared at the three from behind the black bars. The man on his right was bulky and muscular, with sophisticated black hair and a menacing frown. The one on his left appeared to be a little nervous, continually shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The central of the three, however, was contrastingly the most confident. His calm and smooth facial features complimented his royal stance. This man appeared taller and slimmer in his black suit than the other two did, yet his neatly fashioned hair and crimson tie set him quite nicely along side the others.
‘How may I help you?’ The little grey-haired man asked in a little, grey-haired voice.
‘I am Zuke.’ The central character stated. ‘We have come to meet with Rius Galderstyne.’
Zuke paused, waited for a response. ‘It’s political.’ He added, leaning forward slightly. The little man in purple smiled a warm smile, and waddled over to the side of the gate. There, he flicked some variation of a switch, allowing the gate to swing loosely open.
‘Welcome to Gammana.’