The War Backstories: The Next Chairman

Max Roper looked in the mirror as he put on his dark blue suit jacket. “Finally going to get the vote to fund the repairs on the green hills bridge today.” He told his wife.

                “And the funding for the war machine? I’m sure that bill passed a long time ago, must always pay to fund the slaughter of the savages am I right?” Margaret responded, the edge to her voice was clear.

                “Yes my dear. The army has been well funded, that so called war machine you sneer at is about all that stands between you and a re-education camp.” Max told her.

                “Bullshit.” Margaret snapped back. “You, the whole Senate and that worthless oaf of a king are the ones pushing this nation into a war. The Believers have their crazy ideas about the world, about a God, all that nonsense but they have never been a people that start wars.”

                “That’s because they’ve never had the power to start one. They’ve lived their lives as an oppressed minority. People insulted and mocked for their faith. When you don’t have access to guns, to training, when you can not build a military all you are is a bunch of rabble. They got their slice of land and they have their army. An Army of lunatics who think death will grant them the glory of God. They find honor in death. These people are unreasoning lunatics.” Max reassured her.

                “You tell people that. You want people to believe that. I’ve seen their art, their culture, the songs they sing, the plays they perform. The Believers are a spiritual and beautiful people. No band of psychopathic hooligans could do they things they do. You spread fear and distrust because it suits you. Because you’re now a month away from another painless re-election and then once the Senate starts it’s new session, you will be Chairman. The Chairman who’ll preside over the glorious war against the small minded fools who worship their invisible lord in the sky.” Margaret said.

                “If you’re so impressed with them why don’t you go fight and die along side them?” Max asked her. He fussed with his thinning hair, he was two years shy of sixty and had managed to keep most of it, always had been a point of pride that he hadn’t had to wear a wig as many of the Senate did, but now he wondered if his formerly black, now mostly grey head of hair was finally about to throw in the towel.

                “You know I’d never be a fool enough to think my life is being watched by some all-powerful being who is deeply concerned if I steal a few dollars here or there or say the wrong thing in the wrong being. It’s so silly to think anyone should live their live in any way other than service to their fellow people and themselves. Placating God? I can barely keep our daughter happy.” Margaret sighed. “The one good thing you did for me all these years. You near worthless gay bastard.” She finished with a sneer.

                “Oh I haven’t had a boy since we married my dear. Much as I wished for a strapping young man with rippling muscles and a soft month. No I stayed faithful to your rather rotund form for all these years and put a baby in you, as detestable as that work was.” Max retorted.

                “You managed to create one life, so now you’re going to see fit to ending thousands, tens of thousands or even more. Is that your legacy Max? The Butcher of Sutton’s Pyre?” Margaret asked him.

                “Woman, you act like I’m banging the drum for this war, that I’m the one seeking carnage and death on a wide scale. Poll the people, they want this war, if they didn’t I’d lose election.” Max told her.

                “You can’t lose election. This town has voted for a Roper for the last forty years. Your father was Senator here until he gave you the job. The crackpots and idiots who run against you dream of one day getting even twenty five percent of the vote. You could advocate for the death of the first born child of everyone in this city and you would still win re-election.”  Margaret scolded him.

                “Well if we can’t poll them, then poll the Senate. They all want the war and they’ll get it. If I stand up to them they’ll ignore me and elect a blood thirsty monster Chairman and we’ll have this fight anyhow. As Chairman maybe I can something to mitigate the war, to lessen the carnage.” Max said with a pleading tone.

                “You’re the one to hold the dogs of war on a leash? I can hardly believe that.” Margaret replied dryly.

                Max turned from the mirror and crossed his arms, his head tilted a bit as he stared his wife down for a moment before speaking. “The Believers want this fight, we want it to. We won’t admit to anyone but deep down we all want a test of strength to see who is the real boss of this island. It’s not honest or logical or even right but it’s the way things are. Right now we’re on the edge of war and everyone’s playing their part. My part is to be the Chairman of the Senate, the elder statement who in sadness more than anger agrees to fight the Utopians for the good of the Kingdom. It’s my job to lead this country into this war and then to get it out of the war. I understand your concerns but there is so little I can do about the coming fight.”

                Margaret was silent for a few moments. “Then what good is being Chairman? What good is any power if in truth you’re powerless? Why can’t you put your foot down and say no?” she asked.

                Max turned and sat next to her on the bed. His brown eyes met hers. “Well first of all I don’t know that I do really want to stop it. You heard the news reports, thousands of people were rioting in the streets of Paradise, blaming the Sutton bloodline for burning their holy city to the ground over three hundred years ago. Can you imagine getting worked up over something that happened three hundred years ago? These are people who can not forgive anything, how can we ever trust them to maintain peace with us? There is a part of me that thinks we do need to bloody their noses and teach them a lesson.”

                Max got up from the bed and walked back to the mirror, fixing his coat and buttoning it. “Also the big problem is our idiot king. That fool thinks a war would be jolly good sport, but I know the man old Alex will shrink from the violence, he’s not a man to be troubled by such awful things. Really this all comes down to that old moron hanging on for a few more years and us we winning a few early battles. If he’s still alive and we win a couple early battles we can broker a peace. We’ll have taught the Believers a lesson and can be gracious in victory.” He said

                He pulled his purple bowtie off the table near him and began to wrap it around his neck. “Let me tell you Margaret. If the king dies we will be fucked. Fucked in ways you can’t even imagine. His son is a monster, power hungry and quite open about it. I’m amazed he hasn’t killed the old man already. If he’s king when the bullets fly then we’re talking about a war that won’t end until one side is crushed under the boot of the other.”

                Margaret’s forehead scrunched. “You really think Walter is that awful a person?” she asked.

                Max frowned at her. “Very much so. I’m a man who has wanted to be Chairman of the Senate my whole life. Father was a Senator just because it was something for the old man to do, he rejected offers to run this committee or that. The Senate has many men like him, but it also has men like me and I can spot who they are from a mile away, and let me tell you Marge, Walter is the worst of the lot. He’s always hustling. While he has nearly no power as prince he knows the potential for his power when he becomes king can sway people. He hates the lazy way his father reigns. He wishes the Senate had less power than it does.” Max thought about it for a moment. “No. He wants the Senate abolished and to rule without anyone being able to stop him from doing whatever it is he desires.”

                He finished tying his tie and turned back to his wife. “We have an idiot king, his monster of a son. A nation of religious fanatics, and over a hundred years of mistrust that’s been fostered ever since both the Kingdom and the Believers landed on this island. There are so many moving parts it hurts my head to think about it. I half think a war now would be far better than a war ten years from now. I know peace would be preferred but I can’t imagine how it could be maintained.”

                Margaret looked at him for a few moments, her face softened. “Go vote for your bridge, go take care of your business.” She told him and then she laid back down on the bed.

                Max nodded and walked out of the room, he had a bridge to sell and a war to plan for.