crisis

Crisis

    "A Mr. Khan to see you, your Son of Heaven-ness."
    "Khan, you say? The name doesn't ring a bell."
    "Barbarian chappie, Your Imperial Majesty."
    "Ah, yes. Leader of the Mongol hordes, is it?"
    "The very one, Your Extreme Ineffableness."
    "I suppose I'd better see him, then."
    The Great Khan entered the Imperial Audience Hall.
    "Ah, so you're the famous Mr. Khan I've heard so much about," said the Sung Emperor.
    "Please just call me 'Genghis,' Emperor. I hate standing on ceremony."
    "Ah," sniffed the Emperor. "Then you're in the wrong place, aren't you? Never mind. I'll call you 'Genghis,' and you can call me 'Your Imperial Majesty, Son of Heaven, and Lord of All China.' So, what brings you here? Got a couple caravans full of tribute for me?"
    "Not exactly, you Imperial Son of a Heaven."
    "Hmm. Your etiquette needs a little work," scowled the Emperor. "But never mind that right now. What is it, if not tribute?"
    "I have come to warn you of a great crisis facing your land," said the Great Khan.
    "Oh, dear!" cried the Emperor. "What sort of crisis?"
    "It's a crisis in security," said the Khan. "It's ... Japan, Your Imperial What's-yer-face!"
    "Japan?" blinked the Emperor. "The island kingdom off the coast? My loyal tributary? That Japan?"
    "Ah," replied the Great Khan smoothly. "You may think they're loyal, but I know that they're plotting to overthrow you! It's a crisis!"
    "Really?" The Emperor sounded dubious. "And where do you get this information?"
    "I have legions of conspiracy theorists and, uh, actuaries working on this sort of thing night and day," said Genghis. "Look! Here's a 1500-page report. Crisis! Crisis!"
    The Emperor began to waver. "When is this alleged treason supposed to happen? My people haven't noticed any problems."
    The Khan flipped through his weighty tome. "Mmm ... here it is. In about 700 years. Give or take a few decades."
    "Well, even if what you say is true," said the Emperor nervously, "our defenses are more than adequate. We have an army! A navy! Uh, the Great Wall!"
    The Khan shook his head pityingly. "That stuff is never going to hold up long enough. It's too expensive. How will you pay for it? You think you're going to have a billion people to tax?"
    "Gee, if it's a crisis, I guess I'd better do something." The Emperor looked at the Great Khan pleadingly. "Er, what would you suggest then?"
    "Not to worry!" grinned the Khan. "Just contract your defenses out to my guys! We'll create individual defense cells. Each household a little fort! Just leave it to us!"
    "Gosh, I don't know," muttered the Emperor. "Do you think I really have a crisis?"
    "You do," said the Great Khan. "Trust me."

The final Sung remnants surrendered to the Mongols in 1279 AD.