Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Amber was nearing the end of her twelfth year on planet Earth when word came from the United Federation of Independent States (UFIS—pronounced You fizz). They had a top-level mission for her to perform, if she would be so kind. This was not a word you could ignore, since UFIS represented all the great powers of the world, bigger even than the Western Allied Republics (WAR) and the Association of Sovereign States (this was always pronounced in full). UFIS called the shots on the international stage, or that was the idea anyway (really it was United Banks). And what was the mission they wanted Amber to help them with? They wanted her to help end the war between two nations over a thin strip of land between them. Already there had been thousands of casualties and diplomacy had failed to achieve a peace deal. Even group saunas had failed to break the ice. Each side was convinced of the rightness of its cause. Nuclear war had not been ruled out. Could Amber step in to settle the matter? There would be a slap-up tea for her afterwards, not to mention the gratitude of the entire world.

Both parties were agreed that Amber’s visceral verdict would be final, so convinced were they of their own virtue. Her belly ruled the world. She was an infallible judge, or part of her was. The procedure would be simple: the contested piece of land would go to whoever could make her the least nauseous, as judged by quantity of output. It was going to take a few days to ensure that justice was done and everyone’s rights recognized. Only then would we see where the moral advantage lay. True, it would be rather rough on Amber, but world peace was at stake, and they were desperate (their jobs were at stake). And so, a series of hearings was arranged, during which Amber would listen and respond; the abdominal oracle would speak. Foolproof, no? There were worse ways to end a war. Was she willing to let thousands more die, possibly millions? Naturally, she agreed.

At least she would be put up in a magnificent hotel with the finest cuisine known to man. If she was going to be vomiting for a week, she should at least eat the best food available. The hearings were held in a vast auditorium in which all the major countries of the world were represented. Delegations from each of the warring countries were placed on the opposite sides of the room and there was computer translation and satellite hook-up across the globe. The world’s eyes were on this twelve-year-old girl. More people watched than for that year’s World Games. We need not trouble ourselves with the details of each side’s case; suffice it to report that they were convoluted, obscure, and often nonsensical. What is important is that over the course of seven days Amber threw up enough food to feed the crew of decent-sized boat sailing across one of our larger oceans. No sooner had she swallowed down a plate of food than it jetted up again. She had trouble keeping herself adequately nourished so rapid was the turnover. And there really was a lot to churl about—speech after speech had her retching and heaving, depositing the results in a series of large plastic containers that were taken away to be weighed (it was all very scientific, you understand). She was like a volcano erupting with bright blue lava. The spectacle was irresistible: every spasm and gurgle was carefully recorded and lovingly scrutinized. Never had so many people borne witness to the gastric antics of a single child. But then, world peace was at stake. Elections loomed.

The weighing was carried out with much fanfare. It turned out that country A had 2.65 more ounces of vomit to its credit than country B, so that B emerged the victor. After a re-weigh and some argy-bargy about water loss it was confirmed that B would get the strip of land under dispute. The war came to a sudden end. Amber was hailed as a savior and became even more celebrated than before, especially in country B. Her own feeling was that, however bizarre the proceedings, at least the war was over. Her digestive disability had its uses.