9

Under a tapestry depicting a red diagonal arrow on a white background, a blonde woman put a gold pen in to a gold penholder shaped like a whale. She grabbed both corners of a gilted chair and pushed it forward.

"That's all, J.," she said. She looked towards her valet, a prim, dust-covered man who was a mononym and an initial.

"Oh!" she added. "I left some coveralls with the state seal down in the laundry room, do you think-"

"Madame Brundtland," said J., "All has been attended to. Former heads of state need not concern themselves with the laundering."

She considered J.'s starchy, formal speaking style. She reached out and wiped dust from his shoulder. A nice man, but covered with dust.

"Well," she said, with a drop of sadness encroaching upon her voice, "in that case, I don't suppose there's any need for me to-"

J. held up a finger. "Madame Brundtland," he said, "For your journey." He held out an individually wrapped package of saltine crackers. "You will be under grave danger and I have it on good authority that your coming airline flight will be under surveillance. Should you be offered a snack, DO NOT EAT THE SNACK! Forces hostile to the government see the changing of the guard as a vulnerability. It is our sincerest wish that you make it to your destination safely. DO NOT EAT THE SNACK!"

Gro Harlem Brundtland nodded and accepted the small package.

"Thank you, J." She offered her hand and they shook. "I hope we may again work together in the future."

J. nodded.

Marcia, as Gro Harlem Brundtland preferred to be called by friends, went to her own living quarters one last time to check under her bed for an extra sock. She passed through a hallway full of doors. Behind one of the doors she heard music.

"Well, it's still my palace until midnight," she thought, and put her hand on the golden doorknob. Turning it clockwise slightly, she opened the door slightly and looked inside. Inside what looked like a normal, Norwegian sitting room, stood a couple of strange men and women in shiny costumes.

The costumes were a single piece and they fitted over the peoples' heads. They shone with golden sparkles. Marcia noticed flat-screen televisions, or some kind of makeshift cathode-ray tubes, embedded in the flexible fabric of the garments. She saw one of the strange people was a voluptuous and attractive woman with dazzling green eyes.

The man had a steely jaw.

The woman was sprinkling dust on the couch.

Marcia noticed a strange transformation, as the couch seemed to change its color and its entire appearance from its regular light green, through an intermediate color which was a nauseating blend of green and gold, and finally, to a full gold, blazingly impressive and imposing. Marcia hid behind the door and only occasionally snuck a peek. She was feeling very confused.

In my own palace!

She ran back down the hall.

"J.!" she said.

A man who traveled by clockwork, J. would be in his quarters because it was 7:00 and he was always in his quarters at 7:00. "J!" She pounded on the door, feeling her age in the forced haste.

"Yes, Madame?" J. peered around the door.

"J., there are some strange people in the west wing, turning the furniture to gold!"

J. paused before speaking. "Madame, would you mind terribly stating that again?"

"J., we haven't got much time! There are two weird people, in that third room from the end, in the west wing in the hall that connects the foyer to the ballroom. I saw them with my own eyes! They sprinkled dust on a couch and turned it into gold! We haven't got much time!"

It was only now that Marcia noticed J.'s eyes, with their red pupils. And the wide area around J's red pupils was a bright and horrifying GOLD!