"Not yet," said Popess Paula to everyone in the meeting, her voice firm and clear. "You are all planning to take my city, deciding the future of my people. Where do I stand in all this?"

  Carlos laughed, a relaxed sound.

  "Don't worry. You have my word. You will continue to govern the city. You will be its civilian administrator, and the city will be under the military protection of the Republic. It will be a safe enclave."

  Paula adjusted her glasses, a thoughtful gesture.

  "You know something, Carlos? I liked this meeting. The way your ministers debate, think, plan. It's... different. It's building something, not just administering existing rot." She took a deep breath, as if making a final decision. "I want to be part of this more often. I want to help build this future you are forging. Because this future, I see now, is not in the Holy City. It's here."

  She looked directly at Carlos, her eyes behind the lenses not asking, but stating.

  "Therefore, I would like to become a Minister. The Minister of Science. And I want the budget, the team, and the authority that come with the position."

  Carlos was surprised, but a wave of satisfaction and respect washed over him. It wasn't a bad surprise. It was a sign she was fully committing.

  "Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I fully agree, Your Holiness. By the way, do you have any other initial demands?"

  Aqua and Fernanda exchanged a resigned look. They could already hear the sound of calculations getting more complicated, more staff, more expenses, the spreadsheets growing.

  Paula didn't disappoint them.

  "Yes. I would like my most trusted assistants, two or three, to come here. To learn how the city is administered, its bureaucracy, its system. So they can replicate what works in Santa Maria." She paused. "Furthermore, I will, of course, continue as the main civil authority of the city. The 'mayor,' as you call it. And, in the religious sphere... well, I will no longer be the Popess of the Roman Catholic Apostolic Church. I will be the leader of a new church. The Church of Sanctity. I am already reviewing the scriptures, making new interpretations. Giving more space and voice to women, for example. And making the condemnation of slavery a cornerstone, not a dirty secret."

  Carlos couldn't help the thought that surfaced. Not very ambitious, is she? We offer a hand, she grabs the whole arm. He saw beyond the immediate request. She's right, of course. But taking Santa Maria isn't just a gift for us. It creates a colossal enemy: the official Church, furious and dishonored. We'll need a strong navy just to deal with the retaliation that will come. A pragmatic relief hit him. Luckily, in this era, news travels at the speed of a horse or a sailing ship. We'll have some time.

  "Of course," he said aloud, his voice steady. "We can accept all those terms. So, welcome officially, Minister of Science." He made a ceremonial pause. "Now, moving on to the next topic of this meeting... the new name of our capital."

  The gazes around the table fixed on him.

  "'Armadillo Mocambo'," Carlos said the name, letting it echo in the stuffy air. "We stopped being a simple mocambo, a refuge, a long time ago. It's time we have a name that inspires, that represents what we are and what we want to be. After all, the capital of the Republic needs to carry symbolic weight."

  "Do you have something in mind, President?" asked Quixotina.

  "Liberdade," the word left Carlos's mouth not as a sigh, but as a solid declaration, full of a stubborn hope that resisted all difficulties.

  No one at the table contested. The silence that followed wasn't one of submission or blind respect, but of recognition. It was a simple, direct name that encapsulated the central struggle of their lives, the reason for the Republic's existence. No other name seemed to fit so perfectly.

  Seeing the tacit acceptance, Carlos looked at Fernanda.

  "However, we shouldn't announce it out of nowhere. It should be an event. Something that marks a new era. It could be after the conquest of White Sand, or..." he shifted his gaze to Paula, "...after the 'liberation' of Santa Maria." He emphasized the word. "And I believe having you, Minister Paula, by our side for that announcement would be crucial. We need to frame the narrative. We are not 'conquering' or 'taking' the Holy City. We are 'liberating it' from the clutches of a corrupt and greedy Church."

  "Leave it to me!" said Fernanda, already scribbling furiously. "I'll work with Matilda at the Newspaper. We'll prepare a series of articles, create the expectation..."

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Don't worry about the receptiveness of the common people in Santa Maria," Paula added, with a frankness that sounded almost cynical. "The support I still have is greater than what those 'Church princes' imported from Europe ever had. Especially after the new taxes and fees Orsini and his allies imposed to fund their maneuvers. Discontent is fertile ground."

  "Then it's decided," Carlos declared. "Next topic: the national flag. I've been pondering this. I have a... model from my world. But I'm not sure if we should replicate it."

  "What is the flag of Brazil in your world like, President?" asked Tassi, curious.

  Carlos stood up and went to the blackboard fixed on the wall of the room. He took a piece of chalk and began to draw with a steady hand. The yellow diamond in the center of a green field. The sky-blue circle with the white stars of the Southern Cross, the white band with the words.

  "The green of the vast forests," he explained, pointing. "The yellow of gold. The blue of the sky and rivers. The stars, representing the states. And the motto: 'Ordem e Progresso' (Order and Progress)." He paused, an ironic smile on his lips. "Of course, a lot was invented later to give meaning. Originally, the colors were just those of the House of Bragan?a, the imperial family. And a republic born from a struggle against the oppressor... perhaps shouldn't wear the colors of the old owner. As beautiful as I find the flag, I'm open to ideas."

  Fernanda timidly raised her hand.

  "What about... using colors that represent the people? White, black, and red. Symbolizing the union of the three main races that form the Republic. To show everyone is equal before our law."

  Carlos couldn't contain a low laugh, which made Fernanda blush. He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

  "I'm not laughing at you, Fernanda! It's just... that proposal was made in Brazil in my world too. The irony is that, even after the official end of slavery, true unity never came. The poor continued to be, for the most part, Blacks and mixed-race people." His tone became serious. "But here... here it's different. We are building something new from day one. So yes. Perhaps that is a powerful idea. To represent not the territory, but the people."

  Paula inclined her head, analyzing the drawing on the board.

  "I also see value in adapting your world's flag. There, the colors served a monarchy. Here, they can gain new meanings. The forests, the rivers, the sky... they are real for us. Only the gold is questionable, as we don't have significant mines."

  "Why not combine both ideas?" suggested Guaíra, his calm voice contrasting with the debate. "I like these colors from the President. They are vibrant, beautiful. But I also believe we should represent unity. My family is from the original people. And I feel part of this Republic like I never have anywhere else. But..." he hesitated, "...I don't see our color as red. That's a stereotype from the colonizers."

  "That could be an excellent idea!" exclaimed Carlos, animated. He erased part of the drawing and redrew it. This time, the yellow diamond extended to the edges, dividing the flag into four triangles. In three of them, he sketched hatch marks: black, white, and red. "The red," he said, looking at Guaíra, "might not represent the original peoples, if you think it's inappropriate. It can represent the blood shed in our struggle for freedom. The sacrifice that brought us here."

  Then, his gaze landed on the blue circle with the stars he had drawn in the center of the diamond. A sudden, embarrassing doubt struck him. I completely forgot to check... does the Southern Cross exist in this sky? If this isn't exactly Earth, the night sky must be different. The constellations, the planets...

  "Paula," he asked, pointing at the stars in the drawing. "You, who study so many areas... do you recognize this constellation? The Southern Cross?"

  Paula observed attentively and shook her head.

  "No. We don't have that star formation here. We have others."

  I figured, thought Carlos, a mix of fascination and strangeness taking hold of him. It really is another world. Parallel, but distinct.

  "And Venus? Mars?" he insisted, naming points of light he remembered. "Planets that appear as very bright 'stars' at certain times?"

  Paula looked at him with renewed interest.

  "You also have knowledge of astronomy? Yes, I recognize those. Venus, the 'Morning Star.' Mars, the red one. Jupiter... they exist."

  As always, Carlos reflected to himself, this world is the same and different in the most fundamental and strange aspects.

  The discussion continued, more technical now. They debated the layout, the meaning of the colors. Paula suggested using stars from local constellations, ones important for navigation and regional mythologies. The motto "Order and Progress" was unanimously rejected—it sounded too authoritarian, too alien to the chaotic and egalitarian reality they lived in.

  "Liberdade e Igualdade (Liberty and Equality)," proposed Quixotina, and the phrase seemed to resonate in the room.

  Carlos wrote it on the white band of the drawing. It sounded like the motto of the French Revolution, but here, in that world where such a revolution had never happened, the words sounded new, their own, urgent.

  The final drawing was approved. The golden diamond reaching the edges, with the corners in black, white, and red. In the center, a blue disk with a handful of white stars arranged in a pattern Paula assured was recognizable in the local sky. And crossing the blue, the white band with the words: LIBERDADE E IGUALDADE.

  "Very well," Carlos said, wiping the chalk dust from his hands. "Nia, please coordinate with the textile industry. Mass production. I want this flag flying on all public buildings, barracks, schools, as soon as possible. Quixotina work with the textbook editors. We need a text explaining the meaning of each element, a story every child in the Republic will learn."

  He looked at the flag sketched on the board, a tangle of ideas becoming a symbol.

  "And the name of our capital... will be revealed to the public on the day Santa Maria is liberated. Let it be the first place to hoist our new flag with its new name."

  The meeting ended. The plan was in motion. To take a holy city, forge a new nation, and draw its symbol on the fabric of history.