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Beginnings
#3
Malik sat on a bench in the Alexander Gardens adjacent to the palace, its spires peeking over the now winter-bare trees. It was cold, but he didn’t mind. He was wearing brown soft woolen corduroy pants, an olive green shirt and gold striped tie, maroon and green scarf wound around his neck, a cream sweater, and a heavy tan jacket. The icy air invigorated his lungs, the sharp sting on his cheeks refreshing after being inside all day. The impotent sun cast its weak light in the sky. Snow covered the grass but the walkways were cleared. People walked occasionally through the garden, but for the most part Marcus had the area to himself.

And then Marcus noticed two people walking together coming towards him. He was surprised to see they were both Consular heads: Dr. Bykov, of Communications and Dr. Alexandrova of Propaganda. It was odd to see them together walking in the gardens. It didn’t look like a romantic pairing. But even a...friendship seemed odd. He’d have thought Communications and Propaganda would have been natural enemies, garding each-other’s little fiefdoms jealously.

“Mr. DuBois, we thought that was you,”
said Alexandrova. She was dressed warmly, her long coat not hiding the fact that she had a very attractive form. Statuesque was the word that came to mind. Malik wouldn’t have been surprised to find that many men found her intimidating with her stature, fiery red hair, and fierce green eyes. She was a hawk that missed nothing. Himself included. “It’s a bit cold to just be sitting in the gardens, isn’t it? Would you care to walk with us for a moment?”
Marcus’ curiosity was peaked. What was this about? Consular heads didn’t just casually associate with interns did they? What was their game?

He checked his watch surreptitiously- he still had some time before Pyotr was supposed to be there. “I would love that Madame Consul.”
He nodded to her and Bykov.

Both said nothing for a moment and then Bykov asked, “How are you enjoying Moscow and your new job? Do you miss your home and family?”


Malik was on guard. He wasn’t sure what this was about, but being careful seemed the best course. And honesty. He didn’t believe in honesty for its own sake, as if it mattered if he deceived others or not. But honesty could be a powerful tool against those who had a knack for picking up on it. All kinds of assumptions went with the person who seemed honest, often without the realization that you could manipulate with that honesty.

“Working here has been amazing. It’s only been a few days, but I honestly feel like this has always been home.”
He looked at Alexandrova and then said, “I’ve never really had a home, so there’s nothing to miss, really.”
They knew his details, of course, so he knew to mention Andre. “My brother and I grew up in foster care. But we’ve grown apart over the years.”
He let some of his feeling about Andre’s choices, as well as his…dismissal of his homeland seep through. “He’s a police officer now, back in the US, thinking he's doing good.”
He shrugged. “This is home, now.”


They said nothing for a moment and then Alexandrova asked, “You do not like the United States?”
There was part of it, he thought. They were feeling him out. For what, he did not know.

Again, he let himself be honest. “It’s not that I dislike it. It’s just that it’s become irrelevant. It was a center nation for most of its history. But it’s let itself become an edge nation.”
Their footsteps echoed for a moment.

Bykov said, “You may not know this, Mr DuBois, but I was on the selection committee that considered you for this position. So I am familiar with your writings using the terms ‘edge’ and ‘center’. But Dr. Alexandrova may not be. Would you care to explain what you mean by them?”


It seemed a safe enough subject. Still, he carefully chose his words. “A center nation is a powerful nation whose culture is at a pinnacle. It is the seat of all of that is desired and coveted- power, wealth, knowledge, influence. Even its entertainment dominates all others. It is so convinced of its superiority and is so arrogant that this leads it to largely ignore the outside world. It assumes everyone wants to be like them so it doesn’t really try to conquer them. The outside doesn’t really matter. So they pacify their borders and then go about their business.”


“Can you give me an example?”
asked Alexandrova.

“Sure, Madame Consul. China is one. Rome is another. The Romans developed a system of government that eschewed the rule of one person or even a small group. In general, especially in politics, one did not eliminate one’s rival. Especially during the rise of the Republic, the highest aspiration a person could have was to be primus inter pares, first among equals, preeminent by reason of sheer superior intelligence, acumen and skill. It was a title that had to be held on to because at any moment, another could supplant you with a superior form of it. Their republican government, limited in its representation though it might be, was revolutionary for the time. The result was that all Romans looked down on non-Romans. They found the idea of kings and potentates, with all their regalia and sycophants, amusingly childish. They had no interest in being like anyone else.”


“True,”
said Alexandrova. “And yet they became an empire. Does that not contradict your definition.”


Marcus smiled at her. “Not really. Rome accidently became an empire. Pacifying its borders from the other Italian peoples like the Marsi or the Samnites eventually meant taking over the entire peninsula. And for many years that’s all they held. But Italy’s geographical location in the Mediterranean made it impossible to be ignored. Carthage held Sicily, right at the toe of the peninsula. Roman shipping was constantly being threatened by Carthage. Finally, Rome was forced to deal with them. In the process, they suddenly found themselves in possession of territories in North Africa and Spain. The wealth and natural resources of these territories, as well as their strategic locations, made it impossible to just walk away from. The same happened with Greece. Rome ended up with a large number of territories throughout the Mediterranean.”


He paused, taking a breath. “Something similar happened in the north, with the barbarian incursion of the Germans. Rome nearly fell. It was terrifying. So Rome moved its borders out further north, feeling it necessary to pacify all the Germanic tribes the bordered them. And finally, many eastern city-states, in a desire to forestall conquest by Rome or any other hungry little kingdoms, would leave their domain as a bequest to Rome. Bithynia, for example did that to protect their little kingdom from the threat of Pontus. Very quickly, Rome found itself in possession of an empire it hadn’t really sought. Much of the reason the Republic fell was over the struggle as to how to govern an empire based on laws and traditions that really only worked on the peninsula.”


He came to his point. “But through it all, Rome was a center nation. It assumed the whole world wanted to be like them and acted accordingly. Rome’s empire lasted hundreds of years. It was an idea, even as it evolved. Then you compare that to Alexander’s empire, which was merely a territorial entity, which lasted only up to his death. It collapsed immediately because it wasn’t an idea.”


Alexandrova looked at him with those sharp eyes and a slight smile, then said, “Alright, I will accept your definition for now. Now tell me what an edge state is.”


Malik grinned. There was no game playing here. He was enjoying himself. More than likely, they knew all of this themselves. But he liked speaking authoritatively. Keeping part of himself secret was sometimes creating a desire within to lift the veil a little, so to speak. To show that he was more than simply Marcus. Of course, he would never do that. But to advance in this government, his competence and intelligence had to be real. He couldn’t just charm his way up the ladder. Ascendancy would see through that. And Bykov and Alexandrova were two avenues to the Ascendancy.

“An ‘edge state’ lives in the shadow of a center nation. It is forever feeling inferior and a need to prove itself superior to the center nation. The center nation’s culture constantly makes inroads, which it resents and rejects. Sometimes, edge nations will even conquer a center nation. But then something happens. They spread too far, as if to prove their superiority, but are only barely able to hold onto their conquests. And, ironically, they adopt the culture of the center nation itself.”


Alexandrova’s smile remained. “And would you give me an example of that?”


“Well, Assyria and Babylon, for one. Babylon of course being the center nation, preeminent in its culture and power and influence. They only conquered enough to secure their borders. Assyria lived in its shadow. When it finally had an opportunity, it conquered Babylon and her territories. It was unnaturally cruel and aggressive, perhaps in response to that cultural pressure from Babylon. It appropriated Babylonian creation myths, but replaced deities like Marduk with their own Asshur. To all intents and purposes, it was absorbed into Babylonian culture and gradually lost influence. Japan and China. Macedon and the rest of Greece. It follows a similar pattern.”


Bykov had been silent throughout the exchange. But now he spoke up. “And so then, how does all this relate to the United States?”


“The United States, though made of up edge peoples- by that I mean immigrants and castoffs- was unique in that it became a center nation purely based on the very idea of America itself. The concept of the nation was enough to unite the peoples into a new identity that transcended their origins. Or perhaps, their origins made them cling to that ideal all the more tightly. It’s why Chinese and Irish and even some black people could be mistreated and still endure. Because what wasn’t reality for them in America could one day become reality for their children. The idea made the US a center nation. And like a center nation, the Us only barely was interested in any sort of colonial empire. They were so busy assuming, sometimes rightly, that the world wanted to be like them, that they had no real interest in conquering. Spreading their influence, sure. Strategic bases and the like, ok. Especially after the rise of the Cold War. But at home, it was always a tough sell, especially when the Cold War ended.”


He stopped. Listening to the quiet for a moment. “America threw away what it had. It let itself become an edge nation through weakness and disorder.”
Malik laughed for a moment. “And it is ironic that Russia and Russian culture has become the center nation. The CCD is the center. And the US looks in longingly, desperate to be what it once was. It is pathetic,”
, That last said with a slight venom. He looked at Bykov and Alexandrova. Just steps away from Ascendancy himself. How to phrase this without throwing up alarms? “I want to be in a center nation, to be where it matters. I want what I do to matter.”
Inside, he cringed at the weakness it betrayed. Of course he mattered. He was Darth Malik, Dark Lord of the Sith. But one had to play the game.

The Consulars shared a look and something passed between them. Then they looked at him. Then Alexandrova said, “I have enjoyed our chat Mr. DuBois. I think I shall enjoy having you with us in the coming months. You are probably not surprised to know that the Consulate I oversee touches on many of the things you spoke of.”
Her emerald eyes sharpened, but not in a predatory way, not with the way her lip curved. “Perception is the key. Perhaps we can talk on this at some other time.”


After exchanging pleasantries, they left and Marcus was left on the pathway. Very interesting. There was definitely something there. What it was, he wasn’t sure. It could have been simply another test, a way to gauge whether he’d really believed the things he’d written of. Or perhaps more. But, he thought, it seemed like he had made a good impression. Malik smiled tightly to himself. He was enjoying this.

Then Malik looked at his watch. Nearly 7. It was getting colder as the sun had gone down only moments before. But cold meant nothing to him. Seizing the Force, the cold suddenly retreated. His now sharpened senses picked up the scents of the dormant grass and dead leaves under the snow, the rustle of the breeze in the bare branches. And the sound of footsteps of others in the park. Pyotr should be there soon. Soon, Malik would have a tool he could try things one.


Edited by Marcus DuBois, Jun 10 2014, 04:17 PM.
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Messages In This Thread
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-07-2014, 08:02 PM
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-08-2014, 03:56 PM
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-10-2014, 12:59 PM
[No subject] - by Pyotr Grigory - 06-14-2014, 09:50 PM
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-16-2014, 12:44 PM
[No subject] - by Pyotr Grigory - 06-16-2014, 07:51 PM
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-17-2014, 02:44 PM
[No subject] - by Marcus DuBois - 06-19-2014, 11:32 AM

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