Janos' Point of View
Air raid sirens interrupted his work yet again. This was getting old.
Taking cover under his desk, Janos Magyar heard distant thunder, what he knew to be the sound of the Dragonlance.
Sixty seconds later the all-clear sounded. No impacts, all interceptions successful, such was the text message he received from the Minister of Defense over the automated emergency response system. Janos made a note to compliment her at their next meeting.
It had been the same for every Russian missile attack these last two weeks. The Queen's weapons worked. Many didn't even bother taking cover anymore, ignoring the sirens and going about their business as usual.
But for the government, absolutely no chances were taken. Early warning radar aircraft patrolled the skies day and night. So far, Hungary at war didn't feel much different from Hungary at peace.
Reports were pouring in about a major victory in Ukraine, with the left bank of the Dnieper secured all the way down to the Black Sea. President Gratin was making his displeasure known, quite impotently so far.
Janos had seen the footage; they all had. Bipedal drones, skeletal monstrosities, slaughtered Russian soldiers by the thousands, driving them back over one hundred kilometers from Kherson. Much of the fighting was up close and personal. Janos couldn't stomach watching much of that.
To save the land route to Crimea the Russians were pouring in everything they had, and suffering terribly for it. Alice Glass, one of the Americans her grace brought back from her time abroad, was kicking their teeth in, to put it bluntly. While she was covering herself with glory, Janos was getting buried in work.
Right, ordinary business first, he decided, settling back into his chair.
"We're going to have to organize a cleanup of the flowers and gifts at the hospital," he informed his assistant. "The display is blocking the entrance. Please post that his majesty is no longer hospitalized on all social media apps."
The King was surprisingly popular. His love story with Queen Reka was already the subject of a television drama, and his command of the Hungarian language did him great credit.
Oh, how the people howled for blood when the photos of the distraught Queen became public, he remembered.
It was absolute chaos. Police had to intervene in several instances of attempted beatings or even murders of Russian nationals who happened to be in the country. Such things were beneath the Queen's notice, of course. Matters as mundane as public order were his problem, not that he was complaining.
Janos Magyar never supposed his life would turn out like this. He studied urban planning at university, worked for the city of Budapest, and had a modest social media presence where he made Youwatch videos advocating for public transportation, walkability, and nuclear power.
Once Reka's discoveries were publicized, he made videos explaining the basic principles of crystal-confinement fusion in both Hungarian and German. With AI-generated English subtitles he was able to go somewhat viral and develop a following among Reka fans online.
It was his Youwatch channel that got the Queen's attention, back when she was a researcher in the United States. Her personal factotum, a man named Galiban that nobody knew the origin of, contacted him about starting a political party to oppose the coalition of Henrik Orszag. That chain of events somehow led to him becoming the Prime Minister of Hungary.
Once his assistant ran off to deal with the flower barrier, he checked his email.
That was the last of the easy stuff.
Janos spent the next hour doing research for his next meeting. Stacy Schneider, another of Reka's pet Americans, was coming in to discuss their sovereign wealth fund.
Joy...
Stacy's Hungarian was still a bit stilted, and his English was never the best, but they both spoke numbers, and could use an AI translator when needed. Whatever they discussed came straight from the Queen, so he treated the matter with all the seriousness he could muster.
There was a knock on the door to his office at precisely two o'clock.
"Ms. Schneider, come in," he invited her. She was blonde, a bit younger than the Queen, and had the amusing habit of dressing exactly like her grace. Fast fashion brands made a killing off of duplicating Reka's outfits, he knew.
"Prime Minister," she greeted brightly. "Can you open that attachment I sent you?"
It was already open, but he made a show of opening it anyway. "What am I looking at here?" he asked.
"Well, as you can see, our sovereign wealth fund is mostly Chinese money when you get right down to it. They buy our crystals and manufacture our pharmaceuticals."
Janos could see. It was a bit obscure with different currencies involved but the weight-loss pills alone were worth double digit GDP growth, almost unimaginable wealth, and different treatments were already being developed.
"Crystal sales are dropping," he commented.
Stacy frowned. "An unfortunate consequence of the war. Her grace told me the same process she uses to make fusion crystals had to be diverted to Dragonlance production."
The Chinese wouldn't be happy, but maybe that was a good thing. They could pressure Russia far more effectively than Hungary or even the whole European Union could. Hopefully the war would end before Gratin got desperate. The Queen assured him that the Dragonlances could intercept an ICBM but he would prefer not to risk it.
"Will the Chinese curtail their investment in our country? There is a war on, after all."
"Just the opposite," Stacy told him. "The YBD plant is doing very well. Electric vehicle sales are strong domestically, and we've been selling to Poland, Slovakia, and Croatia, with more on the way."
That car factory was a marvel, almost completely automated, pushing out nicer, cheaper cars than anyone in Europe. The Queen's robots weren't just for fighting. They could make pretty much anything.
"All kinds of electronics are next," she continued. "Phones, video game consoles, televisions, there really isn't anything we can't make here. Energy and labor costs are minimal. China wants us as happy as possible."
They want our drones, he knew at once. The Vanguards alone would revolutionize war, were actively revolutionizing war. If Reka wanted to, she could do a lot of damage by selling her weapons abroad. Any leader of a small country could turn into a little Napoleon with just a battalion of Vanguards, igniting global chaos.
At least our Queen has sense enough not to do that, he mused.
"National dividend payments are steady, even with increased war expenditures, and consumer demand is strong, but not too strong," Stacy pointed out.
"Yes, panic buying has really tapered off since the air defense network went up," Janos said.
"We're being defensive with our investments right now, but once the war is over we can switch back to a growth strategy," she said matter-of-factly.
The war was just a mild inconvenience to these people. That was Reka, really. None of this was normal, but with her, it was.
As if the mere thought of the Queen summoned her, she burst in with the foreign minister in tow.
Here we go...
"It'll be fine," the Queen said to the foreign minister. "We don't need NATO anyway. Now tell Janos what you told me."
The foreign minister, a man Janos knew to be a mild mannered professor of international relations only a few short months ago, shrunk into himself and stammered.
"Oh, hey girl!" Stacy said conversationally. "Is Brad feeling better?"
"He is!" Reka said delightedly. Her brow furrowed in thought. "Your accent is still a little strong, Stacy. Here, take this pill."
The girl just popped it right into her mouth without a thought!
"Um, what was that?" He was almost afraid to ask, but Janos knew if he didn't thoughts of that pill would torment him for days.
"Our new pill, of course," she said casually. "Accelerates the mind, you see. It was how Brad learned Hungarian so fast."
First weight loss and now brain steroids. Janos wondered what the implications of this would be for education policy.
"That's great, Reka!" Stacy praised. "I'll study real hard, I promise!"
"See that you do," the Queen said encouragingly. "Study hard, and you'll find it all sticks, as my husband likes to say."
Then, as if she just remembered the foreign minister was still there, the Queen addressed him again. "Come now, my dear fellow, tell Mr. Prime Minister all about it."
"Er, right," the foreign minister struggled to get out the words. "In short, NATO is collapsing. Poland, Slovakia, Romania, and the Baltic countries have all withdrawn from the treaty. Croatia, Czechia, Bulgaria, Sweden, and Finland are seriously considering doing the same. They are approaching us, some overt, some covert, asking for trade and security agreements, perhaps even an...alternative organization."
Reka's eyes lit up. "Reka!" she cried like a pokemon.
"Reka, er, your grace," Janos said uneasily, not sure how to respond.
"Not 'Reka', silly fellow, but RECA, R-E-C-A, the Regional European Cooperative Association." Her eyes were wide and shining, making her look half mad. "Oh, it's wonderful! My love coined it, and it's simply too perfect not to use."
This was not the first time the Queen barged into his office demanding something after Brad gave her an idea, Janos remembered. In fact, it was a pattern.
He sighed. Catering to her grace's whims was part of his job. "I suppose I can look into having a treaty drawn up, your grace. What about the western countries?"
The Queen waved a hand dismissively. "Germany and Italy are still under the thumb of America, Brad says, but they'll come around once they see how well I rule the East!"
How I rule...just a turn of phrase...surely...
"Yes, and I suppose France and the others are waiting to see what Germany does," the foreign minister added.
Reka nodded along in understanding. "Right, right, well, no matter! We have other business." The Queen looked at him excitedly. "Mr. Prime Minister, I wish to construct a brain drain," she said seriously.
Brain drain? Did she...
"You mean immigration policy, your grace?" he asked in confusion.
The Queen tilted her head, considering. "Something like that. Soon enough, we'll have the highest standard of living in Europe, if not the world, and if we have a pill that will let foreigners learn Hungarian quickly..." she looked at him, her eyes implying much.
Janos could see a certain amount of sense in this, but there was a problem that demanded immediate attention. "What shall these new people do?" Unemployment was an issue everywhere since the AI revolution, even for skilled people.
Reka clapped her hands. "Space program!" she said happily. Looking back at Stacy, the Queen hummed thoughtfully. "Speaking of which, Stacy, you've heard about the disappearance of Elron Trask in Prague, right?"
Did Janos' ears deceive him, or did her grace sound like she knew more about that than she let on?
Best not to question, he decided. Janos didn't need to know.
"Oh yeah," Stacy confirmed. "It's all over Natter, good riddance, I say!"
"I couldn't agree more," Reka said darkly, sounding like a completely different person. The tone of her voice activated an ancient, instinctive fear in him. This was a predator he was talking to. Be careful or you'll get eaten!
"Well," the Queen continued, "you might see if our fund could acquire SpaceY, or at least some of their employees. Galiban has something he wants to make, and it needs to be put into orbit."
You're just going to say all this in front of everyone? We need to have a conversation about state secrets, your grace!
"I'll get right on it, boss!" Stacy said determinedly.
"Excellent, you may go," Reka said, tapping her chin in thought. "We're going to need more Dragonlances...I'll have Alice send back some Russian prisoners," she said to herself.
"For internment, right?" the foreign minister asked.
Her grace favored him with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course, for internment."
Janos shuddered. Thank God she was on their side.