Chapter 64 64. Now, Real Diplomacy

Rippa and Mom barged into the tea room, but Buttons wasn’t there. They, however, heard voices coming from the kitchen across the hall.

Rippa found Buttons and Goggles sitting at the kitchen island with a huge slice of chocolate cake each.

“Buttons!” Rippa rushed and hugged the child. She then examined the girl up and down and front and back. “Are you hurt? You are not hurt, right?”

“No, no. I’m perfectly fine,” said Buttons.

Rippa hugged her little friend again. And then she pushed Buttons back and, much to the kid’s surprise, gave her a solid spank on the backside.

“You motherfucker, I thought you were gonna die!”

“Yes, I nearly had a heart attack!” Mom, too, was furious.

The little ojousama and her butler exchanged looks.

Rippa then noticed the cakes. “Wait… you were celebrating?”

Buttons nodded sheepishly.

“You do this to me, and you celebrate?”

The kid gasped and frantically waved her hands. “No, no, Rippa! What do you mean I do what to you? I did great today—”

“What do you mean you did great?” Mom interrupted Buttons. “They shot at you!”

“Exactly.” The kid showed a thumbs-up.

Rippa gasped. Her chest heaved up and down. “Buttons, shut up.”

The tone of her voice made the little girl shut her mouth and look down at her plate. Her eyes were darting left and right, wondering what she had done wrong.

Goggles cleared his throat and stood up. He picked up the plates and walked toward the sink.

“Oh, no. Goggles, you sit down,” said Rippa.

Goggles cleared his throat again and sat back down. “Miss Rippa, I do actually have urgent business to—”

“If it can wait for a cake, it can wait.”

Goggles shut up.

Rippa sat down, too. After breathing heavily for some seconds, tears welled up in her eyes. She buried her head in her hands. “Do you guys even realize what you’ve done to me?”

For the next twenty minutes, Buttons and Goggles remained in awkward silence, just watching their friend sob without a word.

Mamapin wrapped her arm around her daughter and held her warmly.

“She’s upset,” said Mom finally. “I am, too.”

Buttons was still not getting it. “But Mamapin, I really don’t understand.”

Mom sighed and looked at Goggles for help, but the butler was silent.

“Buttons, my child, you should know,” said Mom. “You had felt your papa’s fear, had you not?”

Goggles took a sharp breath in.

“But there really was nothing to fear!” Buttons objected. “Rippa knew I wasn’t going to get hurt—”

“Knowing and seeing it happen are different. Especially because she loves you so much… she… we can’t do it.”

Rippa raised her head. “Mom, it’s OK. She won’t understand.”

This time, it was Buttons’ turn to panic. “No, no, Rippa, please don’t give up on me. Just tell me! What did I do wrong?”

Rippa stood up. “Goggles, you said you had some business? Go ahead. I’ll go home.”

“No, no! Rippa, don’t go. Tell me, please!”

Rippa opened her mouth, but no words came out. After a troubled sigh, she teleported out of the palace.

“No!” Buttons turned to Goggles. “Goggles, what does she mean?” When she didn’t get an answer, she faced Mom. “Mamapin, what did I do wrong?”

Mom just sighed and hugged the child.

“No! Goggles, read Rippa’s mind! Tell me already!”

“I will not,” Goggles said flatly. “It is evident that we have already done her wrong today.”

“So you know?”

“No. And I do not think reading her mind would be appropriate,” said the butler, standing up.

Buttons looked at Rippa’s empty spot.

Goggles looked at Mom apologetically. “I am terribly sorry, but I really do have a matter to take care of in a timely manner.”

Mom tightened her hug on Buttons and looked up. “It’s alright. Go ahead.”

Goggles nodded apologetically and then teleported out.

***

Secretary of State Goodman felt a presence in his office. He looked up from his desk and nearly jumped out of his chair.

Goggles was sitting on the sofa at the coffee table. A doll maid was pouring a cup of coffee for him.

“W-what? How?”

Crossing his legs, Goggles turned his head to face Goodman. “Mr. Secretary. My apologies for this sudden intrusion.” He then gestured for the maid, who readied a cup of coffee for Goodman.

Goodman fought the urge to call security. After a moment of hesitation, he walked over and sat opposite Goggles. His heart was beating so fast he felt dizzy.

Goggles produced a sheet of paper and slid it across the coffee table.

The Secretary of State picked it up. It was a neatly printed table with quite many rows and columns.

“Please do pardon me for stepping over the line, but I assumed your colleagues in the administration would find this useful,” said Goggles. After taking a sip, he added, “Especially the recently deceased one.”

Goodman read the table again. There were seven rows of names, each with many columns including address and gender. One column indeed was labeled ‘Date of death.’ The next two columns were labeled ‘Manifesto’ and ‘Found.’

“What am I looking at?” asked Goodman, confused. He then realized the table was sorted by the date of death in descending order. The top one was… “This person died two days ago?”

“Yes, he did. Mr. Crooks. Still fresh. Relatively speaking, of course.”

“What about him?”

This was getting more and more confusing for Goodman. Who were these dead people? And, more importantly, why was Goggles giving him this after what had happened this morning?

Goggles took another sip of coffee before speaking. “A manifesto.”

Goodman looked at the table again. Yes, the ‘Manifesto’ cell was indeed ticked for Mr. Crooks. The other person who also had the tick was Thomas Robinson, who had died quite a while ago. Goodman noted the ‘Found’ cells weren’t ticked for either Robinson or Crooks.

“You will notice that Mr. Robinson, on the other hand, had died months ago, which, I presume, would not be useful for you,” said Goggles.

Goodman ventured the question. “What manifesto, exactly?”

“Of a nature similar to what I experienced this morning.”

Secretary Goodman almost choked. He hesitated before asking, “And how is any of this useful to me?”

“Well, for example,” Goggles said, waving his hand vaguely, “as to the question of who would try to kill a harmless little child, and why.” After a pause, he added. “This very morning.”

Goodman felt his blood pressure rising. His face was burning hot. This was humiliating. But it was exactly what the administration needed after today’s botched attempt. ‘But why?’ he couldn’t help but wonder.

“By the way,” Goggles said, steering the topic, “Lady Buttons wishes to convey her apology for leaving so early today. She, nevertheless, is looking forward to the event at the UN.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The other two invitations are still valid, are they not? Or has my response been lost on—”

“Yes, yes. We did receive them.” Goodman cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He was about to do the most significant work of diplomacy he had ever done. He met Goggles’ eyes. “The invitations are still valid.”

“Glad to hear it. Now then,” Goggles stood up and offered his hand.

Goodman looked up. His heart wasn’t beating as fast as before. He, too, stood up and shook Goggles’ hand firmly.

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