Really, it was the carpet’s fault for being in the way of her coffee. The woman moved to sit, without her godly nectar of awakening, and looked around the table at the nervous stares of the well-dressed men and women. Threading her hands together atop the table, she began the meeting.

“You’re not seriously considering letting it in, are you?” A tall man with a balding hairline and clammy fingers laughed at the absurdity of the question, mind focused not on the details but on the golf course beckoning to his semi-retired lifestyle. Unflinching, the woman only stared at him with contempt.

“I am not saying anything. Meetings are a round table discussion, Mr. Creed. If you’re done complaining about being called in on your day off, you can either quit or focus.” Moving to stand, the woman reached for an offered cup by the assistant, and let out a suffering sigh. The bitter taste rolled down her throat and brightened her mind to the possibilities of the day.

“Well, let’s vote on it then, everyone against, lift your hands,” the man quickly stammered out as the entire table instinctively moved to lift their hand. Pleased, he moved to look smugly at Miss White. The cold look however quickly wiped away any brief enjoyment he had gleaned from the meeting.

“First up: we need to consider the possible result of us denying their entry. This ‘experiment’ was to see if we could broker peace, was it not?” They all flinched under her truthful words, moving to actually examine the report on their desks in attempts to avoid her gaze.

“We are at the forefront of mankind here. A chance that other cities are too afraid to take. They would rather see them stay out there. And yet look at the results so far. The strength of the monsters has greatly helped with manual labour jobs. They are cheap to pay, too. We profit from their hesitation, but not our own.” A hand was slowly placed on the table as she leaned forward.

“We can use their magic against them here. A blood oath. If the dragon agrees, we can safely let it in, knowing it cannot break it. Provided we word it right.” A smile formed on her face as she let out a soft chuckle.

“Our lawyers are sure to make a perfectly beneficial contract for us. Of course, they might know our language, so we’d need to keep it above board. If we take this chance, we could very well have the ambassador for those monsters we’ve been seeking. A way to really broker peace. But we also risk our city being destroyed should we fail to make the contract airtight.”

Falling silent, Mary watched them all share curious glances. The idea of a powerful entity beholden to them was tempting. As was the temptation to add certain clauses into the contract. Slowly, the table warmed more and more to the idea. Moving to sit down, she waited for a moment and then spoke once more.

“Lift your hand if you agree to allow the dragon into our city,” she concluded. Unanimously, all hands lifted. The potential gains were too high for the greed of a human to pass up. But of course, that was exactly what the beast had wanted. Her mind turned briefly sour at the thought before standing up and grabbing her briefcase.

“Then I conclude this meeting.” A foot spun in place, and Mary moved to march out the door. A phone flipped open and a number was dialled as she gave the green light to each person involved in her scheme. The marble floor reflected her gaze as she paused briefly by a window to speak, each word a command issued with absolute authority.

“Yes, we got the go-ahead. Remember to keep it to 100 words or less. Good. Yes. Bye.” The phone flicked closed, and she paused to stare at the tall spires that stretched to the edge of the bubble and deep into the ground. The streets were crowded as people shuffled through the busy metropolitan area via public transport or side paths.

A car flew past as Mr. Creed hurried toward the golf course, a rare sight that caused most folk to pause and watch it pass by. Briefly, the crowd parted to let one of the Munst pass through and clean out a trash can before they too took to the air and sailed down toward the slums. A brief blaze of fire could be seen as the dump set the trash ablaze, or recycled the materials to reuse.

For a brief moment, her mind turned to her old home: a simple apartment block in Smith Street, built to house a thousand people. Their family had been crowded and cramped, but it had been home. Turning away from the view, she lifted her phone up and stared at the screen, eyes drawn to one number in particular, registered under three simple letters.

An incoming call sent the screen away, and she answered, moving to step toward the nearby tramway station and swiping her ID to pay for transport. The vehicle was crowded, with nary a seat to be found, but she bunched herself into a wall to continue her conversation. It wasn’t as if it was a bumpy ride after all. They simply lifted into the air and began to follow the digitally transmitted path programmed into the self-driving vehicle.

It didn’t take long to make it from one side of the city to another; twenty minutes and she was there. The phone safely tucked away as she stepped off, she began to stride toward the clean and pristine building that marked her home, robotic cleaners ensuring the place retained the smell of a hospital as she stepped into the gravi-tube and rose up 42 floors.

Room 42-27 opened with a flick of her ID, and she stepped inside. Closing the door, she watched as the apartment’s AI soon painted over her simple furniture with holographic items, reflecting a modern, yet oriental setting. A tv turned onto the news as she moved to order dinner from her oven, pondering over the menu before opening the favourites and selecting fish and chips.

“-occurred at the monster district this morning. A group of protestors are revolting against their immigration and a fight broke out. Fortunately, all monsters were collared, and they are expected to pay for the medical fees of the injured humans. The one monster harmed during the conflict has declined treatment. Experts suggest-” BEEP.

The oven deposited her warm and freshly cooked meal as she moved to fish out a drink, and she ate in silence, gaze briefly drawn toward a photo of her next to a bright and cheerful man with long, red hair. Her gaze swiftly lowered, and she paused in eating her food. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and let it out.

“I miss you more every day…Dad.”