Early morning, Monday, January 31, 2022 Ella’s studio, Greenwich Village, Manhattan, New York, United States

The world tuned in to the UN special announcement. The Secretary-General, a gray-haired man with liver spots and a thick Portuguese accent, was making an announcement.

The recently emerged archipelago off the coast of Madagascar has been declared off-limits by unanimous vote of the UN Security Council. It’s territorial status is indeterminate as of now and no country may lay claim to its rights.

Doctor Anatoly Fedoriw sat in his chair regarding the television. An entirely illegal pipe hanging from his mouth while he watched the announcement.

“Stalemate they mean. Nobody could agree so they are keeping it to themselves.”

He muttered. Ella sitting across from him understood the logic.

As Secretary General I have appointed a coalition committee to deliberate the issue and provide a legal solution to the question of the islands territories and provenance. A committee which I will be personally. A list of members will be provided after this meeting.

“I’ll bet the security council, India, and South Africa. What do you say? A bottle of vodka?”

Ella thought about it, “Cheap vodka. And I don’t think South Africa will make it in.”

“No? Won’t they need someone from Africa?”

“Yes, but they will pick someone with smaller clout as a token.”

A joint naval task force under the command of the UN representing all of the security council members will be preventing ships from landing there. This naval force is authorized to use force.

At that, Anatoly’s bushy white eyebrows raised up. “Whatever is on that island, they really don’t want anyone on it. Fucking Russians.” And he took a swig from his coffee mug.

The feed cut over to reporter questions which asked questions that were obviously going to go unanswered. Then to the talking heads who were obviously just as clueless. People were calling it Atlantis.

“Have you seen the news from CERN?” Doctor Fedoriw asked her.

“What? No. New measurements?”

“You could say that.” And he slid over a piece of paper, a print out of arXiv chatter.

“This makes no sense.” She said. The readings they were getting were just ridiculous.

“Yes.” He took another large gulp of what had to be some sort of hard liquor. But it smelled of pepper.1

“They are shutting it down to investigate.”

Ella hmmmed and went back to grading papers.

“So what are you saying?” Jade asked her.

“I have to move out for a while. I am supposed to be working with… well with a group of magic folk.” Ella didn’t really know how to bring this up and was making a mess of it. “But don’t worry. I will still cover rent. You get the place to yourself!” Ella tried a smile.

Jade sat there, her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t buying it.

“Charlie told me all about your ‘adventures’ in Miami. You are moving in with those… those… mdudu!”

Ella wondered what an mdudu was. Maybe something not polite.

But Jade was incensed and kept going, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? You are a killer now, a soldier? That is your life?”

Ella sat there and thought about it. She was someone who had killed. And it hadn’t bothered her. And, if she was honest with herself, she had enjoyed the adrenaline rush, the planning of the attack, and pulling off a plan. The immediacy and vibrancy of the outcome. It was so removed from trying to model eleven-dimensional vibrating strings or thinking about baryon asymmetry or Yang-Mills theory. Those had their pleasures, and Ella truly loved physics. But there was something…

She sat and thought about it while Jade watched her before she slowly said, “I can’t deny what you are saying. This was thrust upon me. But, I’d say there are two reasons for me to do this.”

Ella held up her first finger, “What other choice do I have? I have been attacked repeatedly and almost killed. I have taken the limits of training as far as I can.”

Then the second, “And, there is something about mattering. It is all kinds of pride, but the world is changing, and I am in the middle of it. As someone said ‘…great tests are a great gift. To fail the test is a misfortune. But to refuse the test is… ummm… worse.’2”

Jade looked at her. And she said, “Do you really not have a choice? Or do you refuse to see the ones in front of you?”

Ella sat back and thought about hubris.

“I will be mostly out of contact for a while. It is kind of like the military… need to get leave.” And she moved out.

Little known fact, Dr. Fedoriw is a moonshine brewer and makes his own pertsivka. And by little know fact I mean all his students know. And most of the faculty. And his neighbors.

Shards of Honour by Lois McMaster Bujold. Ella couldn’t remember the whole quote.