Morrigan: Year 3101.

Brice adjusted his tie as he stood backstage, waiting for his turn to address the United Nations assembly. His assistant, Elise, hovered nearby, tablet in hand.

"Remember the key points we went over last night," Elise whispered. "Start with the shocking statistics, then pivot to the emotional appeal."

Brice nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Starving kids, unite the world, save humanity. Got it."

"And don't forget to mention the UEF's new aid package,"

"Course not. That's the whole point of this charade, isn't it?"

"Charade?"

"Sorry. I mean awareness. Slip of the tounge."

On stage, the American ambassador wrapped up his speech with a flourish of patriotic rhetoric. Polite applause followed as he stepped down from the podium.

"You're up," Elise said, giving Brice a gentle push.

He strode onto the stage and took his place behind the podium, gazing out at the sea of expectant faces. For a moment, he allowed himself to savor the irony—a vampire advocating for human welfare.

"Distinguished delegates," he began. "We stand at a crossroads of human history. While we enjoy unprecedented technological marvels, millions of children in Africa continue to suffer from malnutrition and preventable diseases."

He paused, letting the words sink in. "It is a stain on our collective conscience that in the year 3101, we still haven't solved this crisis. The United European Federation proposes a bold new initiative. We're talking about a comprehensive aid package of five billion euros over the next decade, focused on infrastructure, healthcare, and education. But this isn't just about throwing money at the problem."

He paused, scanning the crowd. Some delegates were nodding, others looked skeptical.

"We're proposing a radical new approach. Instead of dictating solutions from afar, we'll work directly with local communities. We'll leverage cutting-edge tech—nanobot water purifiers, AI-driven crop optimization, even orbital solar arrays beaming clean energy straight to the ground."

A murmur rippled through the audience at his language, but Brice pressed on.

"Look, I know what you're thinking. 'Another fancy plan that'll get bogged down in red tape and corruption.' But we've got safeguards in place. Blockchain-based transparency measures, real-time impact tracking. Every credit will be accounted for."

He took a sip of water, then continued. "And let's be honest, this isn't just about altruism. A stable, prosperous Africa benefits us all. New markets, reduced migration pressures, heck, maybe even some breakthrough innovations we haven't even thought of yet."

Brice's gaze swept across the room, noting the interest and skepticism on the delegates' faces. "The choice is simple. We can keep wringing our hands and making empty promises, or we can take real action. The UEF is ready to lead the way. Who's with us?"

The applause thundered through the hall as Brice stepped away from the podium and waved.

Fuck, he thought. They ate that shit up.

Backstage, Elise materialized at his side. "Nailed it," she said, tapping on her tablet. "The social feeds are blowing up. #UEFforAfrica is trending."

"Fantastic. Nothing says 'solving world hunger' like a hashtag."

"Don't be cynical. This is good PR," Elise glanced up. "By the way, you've got a queue of VIPs wanting face time. The Kenyan ambassador, couple of NGO big shots, and—" She lowered her voice. "Zhao Ming."

Brice raised an eyebrow. "The trillionaire? What's he want?"

"Probably to stroke his ego by associating with our 'noble cause,'" Elise said, making air quotes. "Play nice. His deep pockets could be useful."

"Right. Time to shake hands and kiss babies."

For the next hour, Brice worked the room like the political animal he was. He schmoozed with the Kenyan ambassador, promising "unprecedented cooperation." He nodded sympathetically as NGO heads rattled off statistics. All the while, his heightened senses picked up snippets of conversation from across the room.

"—can't trust the UEF, they're just looking for new markets—"

"—finally, someone with a real plan—"

"—wonder how much of that aid package will actually reach Africa—"

Brice filed away each comment, building a mental map of allies and opponents. The political game never stopped, even at events like this.

Finally, he found himself face-to-face with Zhao Ming, the richest bastard on or off planet. The man's cybernetic eyes whirred as they focused on Brice.

"Ambassador Olivier," Zhao said, his was accent a mix of Shanghai and Luna City. "Quite the speech. You've got everyone talking."

Brice shook the man's hand, noting the subtle hydraulics in the grip. How much of Zhao was still flesh and blood? "Mr. Zhao. I'm glad it resonated. The UEF is committed to real change."

His laugh was like the hum of a server farm. "Change, yes. That's good. I love your speech by the way."

"Oh, thank you. That means a lot."

"So how's the family, Ambassador? I heard your brother was in the news recently."

Brice's jaw tightened for a moment before he forced a smile. "Ah, you know how it is with family. Always something going on."

"Indeed. My own son just started at MIT. Quantum engineering. He's already talking about revolutionizing space travel."

"Impressive," Brice said, grateful for the change of subject. "The younger generation never ceases to amaze me. They'll be solving problems we haven't even thought of yet."

"Let's hope so. Lord knows we've left them enough to deal with," Zhao paused, taking a sip from a champagne flute. "But let's talk about opportunity if that's ok?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind Mr. Ming?"

"My company's been developing some interesting tech. Nanobots that could revolutionize agriculture in arid climates."

Of course, Brice thought. It's always about the bottom line.

"Is that so? Sounds fascinating. Can you futher elaborate on that?"

Zhao's cybernetic eyes whirred as he launched into his pitch. "Our nanobots are designed to optimize water usage and soil nutrients. They can increase crop yields by up to 300% in desert regions."

"Impressive, if true. What are they made of?"

"Biodegradable polymers. They break down harmlessly after their work is done. No environmental impact."

"Has it been tested anywhere yet?"

"We've run pilot programs in the Gobi Desert and parts of Arizona. The results have been promising."

"Cost?"

"Initial investment is high, but the long-term savings are substantial. We're talking about transforming barren land into productive farmland."

Brice tapped his chin. "Sounds good on paper, but I've heard similar pitches before. What makes yours different?"

"Our tech is scalable," Zhao said. "We can deploy across millions of acres simultaneously. Plus, it's adaptable. The nanobots learn and adjust to local conditions."

"Any pushback from environmental groups?"

"Some concerns about unintended consequences, but we've been transparent with our data. Most see the potential benefits."

Brice nodded. "Interesting. Send the full specs to my office. We'll have our experts take a look."

"Of course," Zhao said, his metallic smile widening. "I think you'll find it aligns perfectly with your initiative."

"We'll see. If it checks out, it could be a game-changer. If not, well..."

"I understand. Due diligence is important. But I'm confident you'll be impressed."

"Looking forward to it. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Ming, I've got more hands to shake."

"We should set up a meeting to discuss further."

"That would be great. Please send the scheduled date to my assistant."

As he moved away, Brice wondered what Zhao's real angle was. In his experience, altruism was rarely the primary motivator for the ultra-rich. Still, if the tech was legit, it could be useful. He'd have to dig deeper.

Elise materialized at his side, tablet clutched to her chest like a shield. "Ambassador, your next meeting is with Vice President Corey Blackwell of the United States. He's waiting in the east wing."

Brice suppressed a groan. Another glad-handing session with a politician who probably couldn't find Africa on a map.

"Lead the way," he said, forcing a smile.

They navigated through the crowded hallways, dodging clusters of delegates and aides. Brice's enhanced senses picked up snippets of conversation in a dozen languages, most of them discussing his speech.

The east wing was quieter, reserved for high-level meetings. VP Blackwell stood near a window, gazing out at the skyline. He turned as Brice approached, revealing a face that looked more suited to a holofilm star than a politician.

"Ambassador Olivier," Blackwell said, extending a hand. "Hell of a speech you gave out there."

Brice shook the offered hand, noting the firm grip. "Vice President Blackwell. Glad you found it engaging."

"Please, call me Corey. And engaging doesn't begin to cover it. You lit a fire under some asses today."

They moved to a pair of plush chairs, settling in for what Brice hoped would be a mercifully brief conversation.

"So, Brice," Blackwell said, leaning back. "How's life treating you these days? Still hitting the Martian links on weekends?"

Brice chuckled. "Afraid I haven't had time for golf lately, Martian or otherwise. Been a bit busy with this Africa initiative."

"I hear that. Between you and me, I haven't seen the inside of a pleasure pod in months. It's all work, work, work."

"The joys of public service."

Blackwell laughed. "Ain't that the truth. But hey, speaking of public service, word on the street is you're eyeing a Senate run back in Paris. That true?"

Brice raised an eyebrow. News traveled fast in these circles. "It's been discussed," he said. "Nothing's set in stone yet."

"Well, if you do throw your hat in the ring, you've got my support. Not officially, of course – can't be seen meddling in UEF politics. But off the record? I think you'd make a damn fine Senator."

"Appreciate that, Corey. Though I have to ask, what's in it for you?"

"Sharp as ever. Look, I'll level with you. The U.S. and the UEF haven't always seen eye to eye, but your Africa initiative? That's the kind of bold thinking we need more of. If you can bring that energy to the Senate, it could open up some interesting possibilities for cooperation."

"Interesting indeed," Brice nodded. "Any specific areas you had in mind?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Blackwell leaned forward. "We've been kicking around some ideas about joint space exploration. Nothing concrete yet, but with the right push from both sides..."

"I see," Brice said. A joint space program could have interesting implications for vampire kind. New frontiers, away from prying eyes. "That's certainly something worth exploring further."

"Exactly. But it'd take someone with vision to get it off the ground. Someone like, say, a newly minted UEF Senator with a track record of big ideas."

Brice allowed himself a small smile. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Of course," Blackwell echoed, winking. "UEF has most the components we need for space exploration. And you know as well as I do that more colonies we discover, means more minerals. More minerals means more money for your country and mine."

The prospect of more colonies excited him, not for the minerals or money, but for the potential havens they could become for his kind. This could be the key to securing a future for vampires.

"That is something," he said.

"So, what do you think? Ready to trade in the ambassador's suite for a Senate office?"

"It's tempting," Brice admitted. And it was. A Senate seat would give him more influence and more opportunities. "But there's a lot to consider. The campaign alone would be brutal."

"You handled yourself like a pro out there today. The campaign trail would be a cakewalk for you."

"Maybe. But there's more to it than just public speaking. There's fundraising, building a team, crafting a platform that resonates beyond just the Africa initiative."

"True, but you've got connections. And after today's speech, I bet donors will be lining up to back you."

Brice nodded, considering. "It's not just about the money, though. The scrutiny that comes with a high-profile campaign... let's just say I value my privacy."

Blackwell leaned back, studying him. "Everyone's got skeletons in their closet, Ambassador. The trick is to control the narrative. Get out ahead of any potential scandals."

If you only knew, Brice thought.

"Easier said than done," he said aloud.

"Look," Blackwell said, leaning in again. "I get it. It's a big decision. But think about the good you could do. As a Senator, you could really make a difference."

Brice fought back a smirk. Make a difference. That's what they all said. This superpower countries just wants to make him a puppet for their selfish interest. The US knows that the UEF has the most advance space exploration technology in the world and they want to control it by buttering up to people like him. But he had to admit, the idea was growing on him.

"You make a compelling case, Corey," Brice said. "I'll give it some serious thought."

"That's all I ask. And hey, if you do decide to run, I know some people who know some people. Could help smooth the way, if you catch my drift."

Before Brice could respond, Elise appeared at his elbow. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Ambassador, but there's an urgent call for you. It's... a family matter."

Brice's eyes narrowed. A "family matter" usually meant vampire business. "I see. My apologies, Vice President, but I'm afraid I need to take this."

Blackwell stood, extending his hand again. "No worries, I understand. Family comes first. Think about what I said, yeah?"

"I will," Brice repsonded, shaking the man's hand. "Thank you for your time."