Stakes (Part 1)
The October sunrise painted New Plymouth's Federal Tower in hues of amber and gold, its gleaming surfaces reflecting the promise of a new day. Railway carriages and airships had been arriving through the night, bringing delegates from across the globe to this hastily convened summit. The British ultimatum to Canada and Australia had sparked what many fe…
Stakes (Part 2)
The October wind whistled through New Plymouth's Federal Tower, but none of us felt the cold. We’d been debating for three days straight, our voices growing hoarse, our patience wearing thin. I'd lost count of how many cups of coffee the staff had brought me. The British ultimatum sat before each of us like a coiled snake, its demands growing more offen…
Stakes (Part 4)
History sings in moments like these. I've spent twenty years in newsrooms and political chambers, but I've never felt anything like the electricity in this room. From my position in the press gallery, I can see every face, read every reaction, and what I'm witnessing is nothing short of America's finest hour.
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