- AC -

Abraham opened the door leading to one of the Capitoline offices, now his since two weeks. Closing it behind him by precaution, he then ventured inside the Renaissance-inspired room. The windows flooded the office with sunlight; each day, Abraham felt like he walked into a royal living room. Feeling that the afternoon’s hot rays were already settling in the office, he checked his watch to verify: ‘19:45’.

“That’s not right,” he thought out loud, tapping his watch in a futile attempt to reset the hands to the correct time.

“Don’t ever interrupt me again when I’m talking!”

Abraham jumped in surprise upon hearing Randall’s voice behind him. He was used to bullies sneaking up behind him, but Randall sneaking behind him was a different (and dangerous) feeling. He turned to face Randall, and found him seated in one of the office’s couches. Despite his calm voice, Randall was visibly angry, his icy eyes staring deep into Abraham’s.

“In my world, a man that does this is considered disrespectful and arrogant,” Randall continued.

Despite his age and rank, Abraham felt small beneath the fire behind the old man’s glare. One part of his mind admired such a fire, while the other part urged him to choose his words carefully.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Redspear, but Jones’ stupidity got to my nerves, and I wasn’t sure that President Bohm fully understood our plan. It’s his duty to listen to all sides, but Jones’ lack of ambition was threatening the future of your great endeavor. I’m truly sorry if I appeared disrespectful; I only wanted to show all the benefits of the plan right away, before Jones instilled any fatal doubt within the President.”

Randall’s glare softened, and he continued to overlook Abraham for a few seconds, saying nothing, before rising with a satisfied expression. He tapped lightly the shoulder of Abraham.

“I understand. Take care that it doesn’t happen again.”

“I’m a psychologist, sir. I know how to recognize and deal with inadequacy; I’m certainly not about to imitate such behaviors. And when I see doubt in someone’s mind, especially when it comes to a crucial project, it’s my duty to fight the doubt,” Abraham proudly retorted.

He breathed more calmly as Randall smiled.

“You certainly have confidence, I will give you that,” Randall conceded. “Many have abused in the past from such confidence; but in your case, such leadership will be essential.”

The old man crossed his arms and glanced at the reports that Abraham had left laying on his desk

“What you mentioned, lowering the living cost by five percent each trimester… How does it help our cause?” he asked.

“I told you, sir, when you recruited me. Do a nice gesture for the population, even if it cost you more in the beginning, and you’ll guarantee yourself trust and devotion. And in the long term, control,” Abraham explained.

“Speaking of control, how far can we push your plan?” Randall asked, leaning against the desk’s edge.

Abraham went to sit behind his desk, and thought quickly.

“It depends on what you want to achieve, sir.”

Randall gave him a meaningful smile.

“What else do you and I wish to accomplish?”

“For that, we needed the help of the corporations you told the council that you’re breaking links with,” Abraham noted.

“Only officially. Some of them have been already exposed for too long, and we need to keep with the old plan. The population have been warned against corporations for ages, direct with our orders. We must follow in that path. The new government must appear to be free from direct links with them if we want the popularity to be with us, and against the old members of the old governments.”

Abraham nodded, and he rose, his mind flying to examine the possibilities.

“Well, we need to keep the dependence factor strong,” he began, pacing the office. “Not just fuel. We need to strike the balance between freedom and dependence. The food and living cost must remain high, and the assured income must remain low. Just enough to give some leeway to the population, but not enough so that they can fully get out of their situation. Such a dependence will keep the population glued to the new government, despite any unhappy thoughts. Without our government, they’ll lose the income, and return to homelessness and starvation; with it, they willingly become your pawns. They don’t get all that they want, but they get enough to hope that it will get better from now on.

» Corporations will need to stay, though, although, as you said, under a different name and concept. Dependence is once again essential. We’ll need to basically move every industries to Zhongguo, and make the population understand that such an action will reduce the cost of living, as production over Zhongguo will cost nothing because of their existing labor. Creating home or national businesses will be harder and less profiting to the population, leaving them no choice but to accept oversea products (and thus augmenting once again their dependencies). Zhongguo will however become the next and biggest country in the world, economically wise. That may or may not be a flaw to the plan, but if it is, we can build safeguards.”

“It won’t be a flaw; it will on the contrary serve the plan very well in the future,” Randall assured him.

“Good. Next,” Abraham continued, “competition is the biggest issue. We’ll need to ensure that no other party can compete with us. It’ll be harder to implement, but if previous controversies exist about these parties, it’ll be easy to simply push them to downfall. What it leads to, is that people will trust no one else because of those controversies. If you look at one of the past presidential races, the population voted for someone they would have never voted for, only because the opposing party (armed with a better speech, better promises and much better reputation) was afflicted with privacy controversies.

» So, we need to take any opponents away, but with the population’s consent. They must themselves wish us to take down any old parties. For that, the media will play an essential role. In addition to take down old parties, you could secretly build another one, unlinked officially to you, yet run, behind the curtains, by you. Such an action will make you less suspicious to the population, who will be offered once more different choices of parties, despite all of them being basically the same. To gain more votes, you make sure all the parties are ‘run’ with real ‘people of the people’.”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Like we started,” Randall acknowledged.

“Exactly. From there, unseen variables will obviously emerge, but the end result will be the same: complete control of the population, and this, brought on by their own free will.”

“Excellent,” Randall beamed. “Now, that is all, of course, hypothetical?”

Abraham smiled meaningfully.

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“Good,” Randall replied, amused. “I think it might be time...”

“Time?”

“Third office at the right, fifth flour, come right away,” Randall said out loud, to no one in particular. Abraham looked at him, confused, but he said nothing and didn’t let it show in his face.

“Here is what I need you to do,” Randall resumed to Abraham. “There are a few in the council that smell trouble to our government. We need to take them out right away.”

“Uprooting the weed? About time, if you ask me,” Abraham agreed. “I’ll dig some dirt about them, and leak them through the media.”

“In a few days’ time, we will make another meeting, and expose these controversies publicly, and show that we won’t tolerate old systems,” Randall added.

“Very good, sir,” Abraham smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you. They will need to be replaced; I have candidates in my own council. I will let you choose which ones you deem best suited.”

“Don’t you have your own favorites, sir?” Abraham wondered.

“Yes; but let’s just say that this first mission is your test,” Randall enigmatically replied.

Abraham frowned, puzzled, but he didn’t pushed the matter any further. Things would be revealed at their own pace; all he needed to do was to prove he belonged to Randall’s world.

“Very well, sir,” he acknowledged.

A knock was heard at Abraham’s office door, and Randall invited the newcomer to enter. Abraham rose to his feet, unconsciously straightening his shirt and his jacket, and requiring every drop of his self-control to avoid gaping at the newcomer. A tall lean woman in her early thirties walked gracefully into the office despite her four inches high heels, her cream tailored dress showcasing her trained body, her platinum blond hair tied into an elegant bun, exposing her delicate chiseled cheekbones. Her turquoise eyes quickly met Randall’s in a professional manner, but they then stared straight into Abraham’s, and never departed.

Abraham, still not taking his eyes off the apparition, as if he didn’t want to lose one glance, went around his desk to meet her. She glanced quickly at his full frame before looking back into his eyes, a small admiring smile making its way to her lips. When they came close enough, they both stopped in a last attempt of self-control.

Randall put his hand lightly upon the woman’s back, and introduced her:

“Ysadora, this is Abraham Solomon, the new Public Relation manager I told you about; Abraham, this is Ysadora Dawn, my bodyguard. In any case people around here don’t like you and you are to find yourself into dangerous waters, call her. She is the best one could wish for.”

Abraham took Ysadora’s extended hand, and gave it a small but delicate kiss, his eyes never leaving hers.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Dawn.”

She blushed, though he could see that she was trying her best to hide it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Solomon. It takes a genius to be praised by Randall,” she replied, smiling broadly.

“I believe the praise should be to you. A woman whom is the best bodyguard one could wish for is no small feat.”

“I trained with the best of the best,” she acknowledged.

Both then kept at looking at one another, neither saying any more words, partly because neither knew what else to say and partly because had they started to say something, it would have gone out inappropriate at such an early stage. Randall, amused, discreetly cleared his throat. Abraham and Ysadora jumped out of their hypnotic stare, and stood nervously, trying to find a way to end the conversation naturally.

“Well, I should get back to... umm... well, make some researches on council members to.. well, umm... you know...” Abraham babbled, part of him surprised at this unusual behaviour from his normally controlled state.

“There are some old council members that are starting to make unwanted noise, so I asked Abraham to find suitable replacements,” Randall explained to Ysadora, finishing Abraham’s sentence.

“Ah, good. It was time to see some changes in the Capitoline,” Ysadora chipped in, smiling brightly.

Abraham bowed slightly at her compliment, and feeling that Randall was uncomfortable by their silent staring, he kissed once more quickly Ysadora’s hand as a goodbye, and retreated back behind his desk.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Miss Dawn, and I’ll indeed call you if I need your service. Mr. Redspear, you should start to see new recruits very soon.”

“Excellent,” Randall acknowledged. “We will leave you to it.”

After Ysadora shone one last beaming smile to Abraham, they left the office. Abraham looked back at them, his mind filled with thoughts other than the mission given to him, for the first time since countless years.

**********************

As Randall was speaking to a secretary, Ysadora busied herself to steady her racing heartbeats and her thoughts. Within the typical council members that surrounded her life, she did not expected this Solomon to stand out from the herd. He looked perfectly the thirty-seven years that his resume registered, not too young, not too old, good-looking, the type she often met as the charming heads of distinguished businesses. His dark brown hair were impeccably combed to the sides, showing off his daily discipline, and his blue eyes met others’ in a polite yet firm manner, without diverting, unlike so many others. And the unusually old-fashioned manner that he had welcomed her, straight out of the chivalry codes of conduct of old times...

She was no stranger to attraction, for she often used such a weapon; but the feeling she had now experienced was different, powerful, and new to her.

But she couldn’t let herself be controlled by such emotions, and she certainly could not let Randall see its effects. He needed her usual cool-headedness, especially now more than ever. Her mental training kicked in, and she steadied herself before Randall finished his call. When he turned to her, she was professional as always, and she dutifully waited for him to walk down the stairs.

“So, what do you think of him?” Randall inquired.

“Mr. Solomon?”

“Yes. I know for a fact that he knows what we are up to, yet he still wants to play the game. You were right to say that someone out there would fit our needs.”

Ysadora scoffed.

“I can see why your council chose him for the post of Public Relations. He is charming, polite, and confident; perfect attributes to lure people to his plans. But in all honesty, is he reliable for our need? He seems overly confident and ambitious.”

“His ambitions, according to his profile, is to serve a cause that will help shape the world as he wish it to be. I read his profile, and I believe he is on the contrary perfect. And quite frankly, a polite yet confident man is more honourable than a spineless wimp with no individual thoughts. Do you know that just today, he singlehandedly won a debate against a dozen council members, and persuaded Bohm to follow his plan?”

Ysadora noted with amusement Randall’s passionate and excited tone as he praised Abraham.

“My thoughts on the matter is limited by my insufficient knowledge of him. Perhaps with more time and more knowledge, I will share your fascination. For the moment, I would suggest that you wait before letting him in into our scheme. He may be a spy,” she prudently advised.

Randall smiled at her precautions. Ysadora looked away from his icy eyes, suddenly hating the way he always seemed to grasp what people tried to keep hidden; she felt that her still shaken heartbeats were misleading him away from her calculative thoughts.

“Of course, I will wait. Time will show his weaknesses, and any hidden agendas,” he reassured her.

Upon that, he left her side to join one of his council member who was waiting for him in the Capitoline’s hall.

Ysadora watched him leave, then she made a call to her assistant.

“Bring me the files on Abraham Solomon; I will be in my office.”

Time to know the newcomer, she thought.