Though it was more extreme than most civilizations, the Roman Empire followed the usual cycle: it grew, prospered, and then stagnated. It was a shining beacon of civilization, and also an example of their need for forced change. The two-hundred-year Golden Age saw little for the Quasing in terms of the advancement we required from the humans.
Therefore, we worked tirelessly to corrupt what we had built by injecting several tribal ethnicities into the Roman armies. Near the sunset of the fifth century, we succeeded, and the Western Roman Empire fell from within. Chaos ensued, and the wheels of change continued to turn.
Zoras
Today was an important meeting for Enzo. It was probably a good idea to not make the Russian president wait for too long. The man was important if Enzo was to cinch this entire continent for his faction. However, it was also important for Enzo not to show the man that they were equals. Far from it. Enzo was bestowing a favor upon a raised underling. The president must be made aware of that.
There are some lessons that should be taught now and some later. In this case, it is better for them to have their delusions now and disappointments later.
Enzo looked up at the clock and cut his workout short. He had been lax over the past few months, and needed to beg forgiveness and rectify his sins. However, today was not the day, and his Holy One understood, commanded it even.
He tossed his towel to the waiting Amanda. “Have the escort ready for the Grand Kremlin Palace.”
The look of relief on her face was palpable. She had the difficult job of shepherding him through his daily schedule and worried constantly when he pushed those constraints. One day, he reminded himself, he would find a Holy One for her.
Enzo was twenty minutes late meeting with the president. However, he considered it a wash, considering the president had insisted on meeting him at the Grand Kremlin Palace, which was nothing less than a grandstand on his part. Still, he had to remind himself that he was not only buying the man as well as the country, but also taking him out of Vinnick’s grasp. Most importantly, the currency he was purchasing with was illusion.
For now, Enzo would have to play these games. He walked into the office and nodded. “President Putyatin, thank you for seeing me.”
Putyatin looked up, then down at his watch, and then up again. “Ah, Mr Enzo. I apologize. I forgot we had an appointment today. Please, sit.”
Again, the grandstanding. There was no way the man didn’t know that Enzo was coming. He was the most important person on the continent, and the KGB had twenty-four hour surveillance at Novo-Ogarevo, the guest complex where he was staying. If Enzo so much as tripped over a rock – not like that would ever happen – it would light up half a dozen intelligence reports.
“I am here now. That is all that is important,” he said, taking the invitation and sitting in the chair across from the president.
“What can the Russian people do for you?” asked Putyatin.
He is fishing. Putyatin believes he has the upper hand.
“As we’ve discussed earlier, Germany.”
Putyatin looked unimpressed. “What would I do with that? It is a people I do not identify with, a land I do not care for.”
Enzo was surprised at the answer. “It is a land you would rule. One in which you could create a dynasty. To pass down to your sons and daughters.”
“So you wish to make me a king?”
“An emperor. A tsar. Whatever you wish to call it.”
Putyatin stood up and turned toward the large map of the world behind him. He looked at Germany. “You ask for a lot, and offer not little, but I am a patriot as well. What would you do with my country after I align its interests with yours?”
“There are enemies to both of our people,” Enzo said. “I would see them crushed.”
“To war then,” Putyatin nodded thoughtfully.
This is a ruse. Well-rehearsed. His decision has already been made.
“Let me ask you, Mr Enzo,” Putyatin continued. “Tell me why it is in my best interest to hand over my beloved country, just so you can lead her to war, in exchange for a small piece of the Earth. It seems you have much more to gain from my cooperation than I would receiving a land of good beer and little oil. It is too much risk, not enough reward, and frankly, no guarantees.”
“Are you doubting the Genjix, Mr President?”
Putyatin shrugged. “I doubt anyone who offers the world to me on a platter. Besides, I know Mr Vinnick. He and I have had business in the past. I know what he is offering. I can see and touch it. You offer me nothing but platitudes and dreams, Mr Enzo. Dreams that require I risk my country.”
Enzo stood up and sneered. He was tiring of these constant games. “Dreams? Mr President, the Genjix are currently in control of a power bloc of nineteen countries, including China, the second largest economy and military in the world. You think all we have is wishful thinking?”
Putyatin stood up as well. “Good day, Mr Enzo. I wish you and your people the best. We are done here.”
Enzo, in a controlled rage, turned to leave. Right before he reached the door, he stopped.
I would not advise playing this card. Not yet.
“How is your mother doing in Sochi? The Black Sea is beautiful this time of year.”
Putyatin stiffened. “A threat, Mr Enzo?”
Enzo turned around. “Or Boris, your brother, the General currently in charge of retooling the Eighth Army in Stryi? Your daughter, who exactly seven minutes ago went to her skating practice just off the Varvarka? I hear she is fantastic and has a good chance of qualifying for the Winter Olympics next year. You’ll see to that, won’t you?
“But that’s all public information. How about your son, currently attending the Lundsbergs boarding school in Sweden under the pseudonym of Karl Pschuenko? Your youngest daughter, currently at the Humanitarian Classical Gymnasium? Your mistress, the twenty-two year-old daughter of your loyal ally and friend, the Prime Minister? Not that I blame you; she is quite a beauty. She is currently in Paris attending Fashion Week.
“And your wife’s nephew, the one you detest for being a bumbling simpleton, Captain Lieutenant Masorin. Ah, he has risen in rank quickly. Nothing to do with his aunt’s influence, of course. I believe as of oh-four-hundred this morning, his battleship Martynin had just embarked for the White Sea on a nine-day patrol over concerns of United States submarine incursions in the Arctic Circle. I believe that mission is classified.”
Enzo relished the stunned look on that arrogant Russian’s face as he walked back to the desk. He leaned forward. “You see, Mr President, we Genjix have been running the world for a very, very long time, and we’ve been guiding humans toward what is best for them for almost as long. I encourage you to reconsider our offer. It’s really the best scenario for everyone.”
A little over the top, but effective. I would have held back. It could backfire.
“I am through with these games, Zoras.”
Then Enzo walked away and stopped at the doorway once more. He turned and smiled at Putyatin. “By the way, I am going to do you a favor. Good day, Mr President.” Then he walked out of the door.
That night, the Russian Battleship Martynin sunk under mysterious circumstances. There were no distress calls, signs of battle, or indications of a collision. All hands on deck were lost.