The reporters clustered near the barricades at Mérida Airport shifted from one foot to the other, cups of burnt coffee in their hands, jackets draped over shoulders against the rising heat. They were an odd mix—wire service correspondents, politics desk veterans, music columnists, and glossy-magazine entertainment writers—gathered together in a way that felt almost comical.
“Strangest press list I’ve seen in years,” said Harold Benton of the Globe & Mirror, squinting into the sun. “Half the people here usually chase divorces and pop stars, not immigration corridors.”
Marisol Vega from Variety smirked, tugging at her lanyard. “You didn’t cover the wrestling match meet-and-greet in Columbia, did you? Same thing — political stagecraft wrapped in fan service. He had T’mari in the front row, shaking hands like it was Comic-Con. And it worked. Clips of her handing out merch are still trending.”
Lucía Herrera of Telemundo laughed softly. “That wasn’t politics, that was puro espectáculo. He knows how to feed a crowd.”
Kenji Watanabe from Reuters shook his head. “I’m here for numbers, not costumes. If this is another stunt, I’d rather be asleep.”
“Oh shut up. Eat you churro ad drink the chocolate,” she laughed. “I am sure we will all get back to bed by this afternoon,” she laughed, having crawled out of his bed this morning and wouldn’t mind getting back in it later. He might not be some loquacious king, but he did know what to do with his tongue.
“Call it what you want,” said Chad Morrison from Billboard, “but the wrestling thing turned into music edits overnight. If they’ve hauled in entertainment press this time, odds are we’re about to see another show.”
From People, Sandra Liu laughed softly. “Half my readers don’t know what a Freehold is, but they know her as waifu. If she sings, forget politics—it’s playlists and fanfiction by noon.”
Driss Mbaye of The Africa Report nodded thoughtfully. “It’s calculated. He knows each of us will file a different story. Political legitimacy, cultural cachet, celebrity buzz. One announcement, three angles.”
Still, Mei Tan of the South China Morning Post shook her head. “It doesn’t explain the hour. We’re standing here like schoolchildren waiting for a parade.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” said Rafael Ortega from Rolling Stone, already tapping notes into his phone. “Anticipation’s half the act. He’s turning airports into amphitheaters.”
The rear hatch of the space yacht hissed open as the air pressure equalized.
“Good morning. I hope you are all enjoying your breakfast. It was already a very hot day and only going to get hotter, so I won’t keep you long,” Matt said standing in the cargo area, obviously wired for sound, but considering his shirt was completely unbuttoned revealing some of the much talked about abs no one knew where it was hidden. “We have been hard at work the last several hours doing what needed to be done. T’mari,” he said, stretching, giving the audience and the cameras a better view.
“First, we wanted to thank the people of Mexico for making us feel welcome. It was reported that during the night that more than half of the promised doses of vaccine have made it as far as the larger villages and are being spread out by helicopter, truck, donkey, and even on foot. Another medicine has been found effective in treating those already infected with the virus and delivery of that has begun as well.
Secondly. The first 250,000 translator units sold out in ninety-two seconds. I understand that is a record in 440 years of Amazon being in business. As the original creator of the unit I was scheduled to receive $125 per unit sold. I will be using those funds to start a global non-profit organization that pays for the last mile delivery of medical and relief aid made by locals. All work should be honored, especially that sort of work.”
“I am proud to be married to this woman. We are leaving today. I don’t know when she and I will return, but we will be back,” Matt said mimicking a movie character they all knew and had a love hate relationship with. “T’mari conducted herself well in interviews, but she knew she was giving those. Let’s see how she does with a song she knows well by now, but was unaware she would be helping me to sing our way out,” Matt said, picking of a violently green Flying V guitar someone from the shadows handed him and quickly did a sound check on as the shuttle began to engage the antigravity
“Told you,” Marisol said, grinning. “He’s about to make this a show.”
I like to dream, yes, yes
Right between the sound machine
On a cloud of sound I drift in the night
Any place it goes is right
Goes far, flies near
To the stars away from here
Well, you don’t know what we can find
Why don’t you come with me, little girl
On a magic carpet ride
Well, you don’t know what we can see
Why don’t you tell your dreams to me
Fantasy will set you free
Close your eyes, girl
Look inside, girl
Let the sound take you away
(T’mari solo after finding her groove)
Last night I hold Aladdin’s lamp
And so I wished that I could stay
Before the thing could answer me
Well, someone came and took the lamp away
I looked around, a lousy candle’s all I found
(Matt rolled his eyes as the shuttle began to float higher)
Well, you don’t know what we can find
Why don’t you come with me, little girl
On a magic carpet ride
(Matt played on while T’mari waved to the crowd. The crowd got the first real show of what a counter-gravity shuttle could do as their bare feet remained on the deck even as the shuttle performed a barrel roll leaving them upside down for the rest of the song which they sung together)
Well, you don’t know what we can see
Why don’t you tell your dreams to me
Fantasy will set you free
(Complicated set of manuevers stood the shuttle on its tail with Matt and T’mari looking straight down at the ground and assembled even as they faced forward feet on the deck. They sang on.
Close your eyes, girl
Look inside, girl
Let the sound take you away
You don’t know what we can find
Why don’t you come with me, little girl
On a magic carpet ride
Well, you don’t know what we can see
Why don’t you tell your dreams to me
Fantasy will set you free
(As the last chord was played Matt held up his pick to T’mari’s lips for a kiss and tossed it through the invisible barrier that had been keeping them in 1/8 gravity and watch the pick fall to the waiting hands. He wondered if earth was capable of understanding what it was to hold the high ground, when the high ground was seven orbiting ships)
