Max heard the banging on his office door. It was not a timid
knock of a person who was intimidated by the idea of meeting with one of the
heads of the revolutionary government. Instead it sounded like the knock of a
man with an agenda.
“Come on in.” Max said as he got to his feet and headed over
to his icebox, this was likely going to be a meeting that would require alcohol
to get through it. “Ah Colonel Rogers, what a pleasant surprise to have the
hero of the battle of Sutton’s Pyre here to visit us.” Max said with the
warmest smile he could fake. Rogers’ body language was of a man practically
boiling over with rage, he was stiff as a board with his fists clenched and his
jaw was so tight that Max thought the man’s teeth might shatter any second.
Max pretended to ignore the fact that his visitor seemed
nearly murderous in his anger as he grabbed the bottle of black gin and two
glasses.
“This is black gin. The berries that produce it are only
ripe for two months and then it’s another year of agonizing wait. They are only
found in a section of land on the island of the Four Great nations and on the
boarder of Tomzzi and Camcamta, pretty sure wars have been fought over it.” Max
said as he poured himself a drink and then poured one for Rogers, who didn’t
react in the slightest to the offer. With a nod Max accepted the man’s refusal
and began to sip his beverage.
“I’m not here to drink.” Rogers said the words almost spat
out of his mouth rather than spoken. He reached into his black jacket, and then
with a thud the man dropped a small tan book onto Max’s desk. “You know what
this is.” Rogers hissed at Max.
Max looked at the book for a few moments, he had a good few
ideas as to what exactly the book might be but he never planned to venture a
real guess, better to let Rogers play all his cards.
“This.” Rogers began. “This is Pete Blackwell’s journal, his
real journal. I served under the man for three years, I received countless
orders from the man and I know what his handwriting looks like and this book is
his. That pack of lies you got your minions to publish in the papers about how
he was questioning the use of poison gas, about his distrust and worry about
the king, all of that was bullshit and you knew it.”
Max pondered interjecting but then decided against it. He
went back to drinking his rum as he let Rogers keep going on his tirade.
“Pete was nothing but loyal to the king, the king had no
reason to distrust him or to assassinate him. It was you. You fucking piece of
shit, you and all these smarmy assholes running around trying to make a new
government, you motherfuckers are the ones that put that bullet into Pete’s
heart. You’re the ones that lied to the army, lied to the whole fucking world
about what happened and blamed the king for it.” Rogers pale green eyes stared
daggers into Max as he kept talking. “I stood on that hill waving the flag you
motherfuckers made. I rallied an army to kill a king because I thought he had
killed my general, my leader, the man I’d have done anything for, but it was
you, you killed him.” Rogers seethed as he leaned over the desk glaring at Max.
Rogers face was bright red, his hand stroked his salt and pepper beard for a
moment before sliding towards his hip. Max knew nobody was supposed to have
guns in the committee chamber but often officers of the military flouted that
rule. Rogers didn’t draw a pistol but his hand remained ominously near where
such a gun should be. “Every ordinance, ever decree your corrupt government
gives out is written in Pete Blackwell’s blood. You are hypocrites and monsters
of the highest order.” Rogers said.
Max took a long drink from his glass before putting the
glass down on his desk. He gave a wry smile at the old solider before slowly
walking alongside him and beginning to speak.
“You think what we did was wrong? Toppling a tyrant who was
gassing his own people, who had abolished the Senate and was seeking to destroy
any dissent to his rule in the press, killing reporters, publishers, anyone who
that he could get his hands on that spoke out against him got the short drop
and a broken neck. Yes Pete Blackwell was a willing thug who committed the
crimes his king wanted him to commit, is that what you want to tell the public,
that Pete Blackwell was every bit the butcher old king Walter was? That if we’d
left him be he’d have gassed Paradise for no military gain what-so-ever because
by that point the Believers had their army well equipped with gas masks. That
he’d have only killed tens of thousands of innocent civilians in a foolish
attempt to take a city his army could never hold.” Max glared at Rogers for a
moment before turning to refill his glass.
“Yes we lied, but it was a lie that needed to be told. We
needed an army to depose the king, Pete had one and we took it. Yes we took it
under false pretenses but I lose no sleep over what I’ve done. It was what had
to be done and the nation is better for it. Now that we’ve cleared the air
here. Tell me Colonel Rogers, what exactly is it that you want from me?” Max
said as he turned and went back to his bottle of black gin.
“What do I want?” Rogers asked with a confused tone in his
voice.
“Don’t bullshit me. You didn’t bring that little book to
some reporter or folks working to undermine the government that we’re busy at
work trying to establish here. You came with it to me and that means you want
something, so spit it out, what do you want from me?” Max asked as he poured
himself another glass.
“I want the twenty two year term on the National Court. I
want to be the longest serving judge in the history of this country you’re
building.” Rogers said with his eyes fixed upon Max.
“First of all you have no legal background, you’re a
warrior, not a scholar, and second of all Judge Whiteflare has been an
outspoken advocate for the rebellion since the first gas attack became public.
The man is literally writing the laws this nation will define itself by, if
anyone is assured of anything in this new nation of ours it’s him getting the
twenty two year term.” Max replied as he started working on his second glass.
“No legal background? You know how many men I’ve executed
for desertion? How many crimes both big and small I’ve had to dispense justice
for in order to maintain the integrity of my army? I’ve got plenty of knowledge
of right and wrong and what the law is.” Rogers glared at Max for a moment. “Even
if I didn’t. I still have this book and that means you give me what I want.”
“You really don’t understand how blackmail works do you?”
Max chided him. Rogers remained silent with his face twisted in a scowl.
“Colonel my good man let me tell you something, there’s not a day I don’t wake
up and expect to find out some dark truth about myself or this revolution has
been exposed to the light of day. My closet has more skeletons in it than a graveyard.
So I know a thing or two about blackmail. The way this is supposed to work.”
Max paused as he took another drink. “Is that the blackmailer has information
the victim doesn’t want made public, the victim then provides some favor to the
blackmailer so the information stays secret. Let’s say that I go to the other
folks on the National Court committee and I push for you to get on the court,
much less the cherry job there. They’ll know you got dirt on me, they’ll harass
me about it, they’ll harass you about it. They might not find your little book
but they’ll keep digging till they find something.”
Max drained his glass and poured another one, today was not
a day for sobriety.
“And if by some miracle they don’t find some dirt on us to
expose our sham relationship they’ll just invent a lie. Same as we did when we
murdered General Blackwell, and same as that lie the public will swallow it
whole because it’s reasonable to believe. Literally any crime they want to
accuse me of will work. Buggery, murder, bribery, it’s all fair game. I give
you this job it’ll be the end of my career, and maybe the end of my life as a
free man if they want to drum up charges and throw me in jail. There’s no way
Colonel.” Max finished his statement by downing his latest glass in one shot,
the glass hitting the table with a loud bang.
Colonel Rogers went to speak but Max raised a finger to
shush him.
“I’ll get you on the National Court. Not the twenty two year
term, not the twenty, but sometime around sixteen I’ll bring your name up. I’ll
talk about how you were a hero in the revolution who would bring honor and
esteem to the court by your presence. I’ll sell them on the idea that putting a
man with no legal training on the court will set a good precedent for future
Presidents to be able to name heroes to the bench. Having one or two common
folks to rub elbows with all the high minded lawyers and judges will keep the
court grounded. It might sound like bullshit but I know how to sell it.” Max
paused as he poured himself another drink.
“Rumors will get out that your name is in the mix for the
National Court. Reporters will hunt you like bloodhounds to find out if it’s
true. You’ll play the part of the doe eyed naïve who never sought this office
but if called upon to serve the new nation in this role you will find it your
duty to serve. Somewhere between the sixteen year term and the ten year one I’ll
browbeat the rest of the assholes who will be deciding who sits on the court to
give in. You’ll sit in judgement over the greatest issues of our day and age
and issue opinions that will be read for generations of legal scholars to come.
You will in short be one of the great men of history.” Max flashed a delighted
smile as he slammed down yet another glass of rum.
“You really are a piece of sht.” Rogers said through gritted
teeth. He reached to grab the journal but Max blocked him.
“You have my word you’ll sit on the National Court. If I
fuck you over you can tell the world you’ve found my love letters to another
man. I want you on the court and I will put you on the court. Now get out of
here and go talk to everyone, make nice with all the other would be Senators
and Mayors and Judges and all the other positions we’re going to make happen in
this new nation of ours. Make it so everyone remembers you visited the capital
and saw lots of people but they forget about our little closed door meeting. I’ll
see you in a few months when we’re busy swearing you in as a Justice on the
National Court.” Max told him as he walked Rogers to the door.
Rogers gave him one final glare of disapproval before
finally walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. Max turned
and looked at his desk where the journal was resting. It was in moments such as
this that Max was quite happy that he always kept his fireplace well stocked
with kindling and firewood. He got out some matches from his drawer and got to
work lighting a fire. After a few moments the fire was raging. Max walked over
to the journal and slowly walked back to the fireplace with it.
“Oh Pete. You’re a damned hero. Coins and paper money will
have your face upon them. Statues will be raised in your honor. Politicians
will long to be compared to you and to be cloaked in your greatness. No greater
honor could have ever been done you than the bullet we put in your heart. We
saved the world from the truth, you owe us for that.” Max said as he threw the
journal into the fire. He watched the flames lick at its edges before finally
engulfing the book completely. The fire spiked higher and higher as it fed on the
pages of the journal, the great lie of the Republic once again feeding itself
on the truth of what happened. There was a quick knock on the door and then it
opened a crack. Harold his new aide peaked his bald head inside the room.
“Is there anything you need sir?” Harold asked.
“Harold, I’m burning incriminating documents and getting
stinking drunk, what I need is to be left alone, cancel any appointments I have
today.” Max snapped back at him.
“Very good sir.” Harold said as he shut the door.
