The swarm of spectators pulsed and roared with excitement as Zaphira plummeted past them, spiralling through the air on her way to be swallowed by the churning gold waves below. As her body crashed into the molten liquid the clamour of the crowd rose to an excited peak. The novelty of such a significant blue hair death was the cause of most of the euphoria, although the anticipation of a free political banquet in the Palace was very much a contributing factor.
Meanwhile, from the top of the Palace Fiat looked on, his heart breaking as he watched the last blue curls of his leader and closest friend sink into the gold. He blinked away the tears that were blurring his blue eyes behind the purple contact lenses, trying to regain his composure before anyone came in. Fiat realised then more than ever how much of a precarious position he was in and nervously patted the purple wig covering his own bright blue hair. He could hear footsteps approaching the office so he quickly put his pulse monitor and head control back on as Porsche marched in.
“Have you finished my speech?” she demanded, her purple hair glowing in the light cast by the faux-flames in the fireplace.
“Yes, of course.”
“I hope you have stressed how momentous this is -the end of Zaphira.”
“I could not fail to do so,” said Fiat the words leaving a traitorous taste in his mouth.
“I’m going to go and check our band in the Rainbow levels,” Porsche said, with an unusual trace of excitement in her voice. “It must have increased after today.”
Fiat began to breathe a sigh of relief and regret as Porsche left, but noticed his pulse monitor flickering and stopped. He knew as well as Porsche did the effect that Zaphira’s death would have on the Rainbow levels. He suddenly became conscious of the fact that in the flurry of recent events his focus had shifted from the ultimate aim to lesser, more emotional issues. As the reality dawned on him his pulse monitor flickered violently, a reflection of what would happen to him if he did not stay in control.
Silence fell over the crowd surrounding the gold pit as they stared in astonishment at the gold statue of Zaphira being winched from the golden waves. She was not all gold, her mass of blue curls had survived.