Calavene
16-02-2008, 18:04
Election Day; Elanessë Palace; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2200 Hours.
Táriyana Elanessë, holder of the hereditary office of Kementári, Head of State Eternal under the aegis of the Federal Solidarity of the nation of Calavénë wrung her hands in the bathing oranges and yellow lights of the expansive flames which danced under the carved marble mantle of the hearth. She suppressed the urge to shiver even though the modern heating systems regulated the temperature of the stateroom as well as any other section of the sprawling Elanessë Palace. Drawing flowing robes of cobalt blue about her lithe frame the leaned back against the stuffed leather of the high-backed, bone-white chair and sighed.
Casting a glance at the clock ticking diligently above the fireplace, Táriyana fought the urge to fidget and instead glanced towards the large double-set oak doors which lead from the foyer to the small library. The Kementári’s lips spread in a small smile - it was ironic that all the learned books and scholars of Calavénë’s long and distinguished literary history could not advise or help here. A loud rapping upon the door took her back to the moment.
“Come in,” Táriyana replied loudly as she stiffened her posture and banished any appearance of concern from her face. The hinges which bore the massive weight of the lovingly carved wood gave the slightest creak of protest and parted to admit one of the many retaining staff of the Palace; conspicuous in a sky-blue wrap-around jacket. The young man -- though many hundreds of years old by Elven standards he had barely begun to walk on this Earth -- gave the slightest bow. “Deputy Prime Minister Mahon to see you, Kementári.”
She nodded.
The Deputy Prime Minister brushed past the Palace aide with such preoccupation on his mind he almost forgot protocol and practically skidded to a halt upon the thick blue carpet laid out in front in order to deliver the customary bow before the Eternal Monarch. Finding himself once more Mahon dipped his head, fists opening and closing on obvious agitation though his face remained a picture of false calm.
“The last polling stations in Nénar have closed,” He said finally with an air of finality and took the proffered seat opposite the Kementári. “Counting has begun nationally - we should have a confirmed and checked final tally within two hours; pre-vote sampling results have been released. It seems you were right my Lady …”
“The Humans of Calavénë seem far more united in purpose than voting habit. If we treat these polls with healthy objectivity they still seem to show that the majority they hold in numbers over our own kind has almost been spent on a range of parties across the entire spectrum of politics. They have fought and demanded and struggled for the right to Enfranchisement and at the watershed of their first participation in elections for the Federal Assembly they seem to abhor bloc voting. They are diluting their own influence willingly.”
Táriyana nodded, folding alabaster hands into her lap. “Humans have been on our soil here for almost two centuries since we first took pity on their toil and allowed their tired ships to dock in our harbours and their shivering bodies to warm under our blankets. They have moved from their own sheltered cities, embracing only their own kind and culture and moved to integration and full participation in our society. We have seen their numbers grow at an almost alarming rate and now they have become more numerous than all the Elves of Calavénë and yet still, we do not understand them.”
“They have formed their own groups and they have petitioned for full citizenship. A minority of their kind has committed kidnap, and arson, and even murder to further this cause. A select few have betrayed the very nation they wish to actively shape in political interaction and yet they have never wavered. Younger generations have taken the torch from failing hands and continued until there was nothing for me to do but grant their desire. Even after all of this Mahon, we do not know them. They do not think as the Elves do and they never shall.”
“Save illness, and injury,” She continued, “Myself and you have lived dozens of Human lifetimes consecutively. We remember their first pathetic, huddled refugees and we remembered their first organised industry and working unions. Though we are not immortal we are as such when compared to their briefest flicker in existence. We have many centuries to debate, and ponder and one cannot help but be impressed by a race hamstrung by such a short time upon the Mortal Coil took action so quickly.”
The Deputy Prime-Minister’s face turned. “It is noble in spirit my Lady,” He baulked. “Yet in a land we have shaped and sculpted for a thousand years now we are marginalised. Their numbers are vast and have eclipsed our own totally and in this very election we may witness the loss of not only a majority in the Federal Assembly, but the Cabinet itself.”
“I am still Kementári!” Táriyana voice boomed. “I am still Kementári Elanessë, Eternal Monarch to these Elven lands. My feet felt the soft ground of the shores when I stepped from our grey ships and stood where our beautiful city of Anduné stands gleaming now. Let us now turn to the dark paths we almost took a few short decades ago Mahon; we attempted to dissuade the Humans of their desire for participation before and we failed and indeed, deserved to. When we did not turn their fleet back to the sea from whence it came those centuries ago we committed to a future with them.”
Her face set resolutely. “For better or for worse, this land is now home to us both and we both should shape it. Where is the Prime Minister watching the results this evening?”
Mahon resisted the urge to chew his lip. “Sejian was on a whistle-stop, frantic tour of the Eastern Gate. He spent a short time in Telumahter this morning - The Prime Minister was concerned that the lead Human opposition party was making credible promises towards shipbuilding in the area; we have a most difficult time in emerging with a majority in the Federal Assembly as is; the consequences of a change in Elvish votes, no matter how small, would be disastrous.”
Táriyana climbed to her feet and parted the hanging material of her gown enough to stretch stiffened legs. Casting another glance towards the mantel-mounted clock she pursed her lips in thought. “The Humans are very divided and their support is scattered across a dozen parties registered with the Federal Election Oversight Authority and even amongst unrecognised and unsanctioned parties. Whilst I do not begrudge them their vote, I am confident I will ask Sejian to form a …”
Her eyes lost focus for a moment as she trawled through hundreds of years’ worth of memories, “ … A fourteenth consecutive government.”
“I hope so my Lady,” Mahon replied with hesitation. “I truly hope so.”
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2225 Hours.
“That’s the second FAM for the Communist Part of Calavénë,” A high-pitched voice whined in equal measures of surprise and disgust. “What are they doing? I swear to God Almighty the Human Race is hardwired to ruin itself. We’ve spent months canvassing, educating and reinforcing how difficult it’s been to win the concession to vote and there are people running around the Capital with red flags baring hammers and sickles!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Elannanórë has always been a bastion of government spending. I wouldn’t look at that monitor again though Petr,” A second voice replied smoothly and with deeper intonation. “You won’t like it.”
“The Calavénë Libertarian Party? Is this thing right? Is it working? Are mental patients the first to vote? We’re never going to win if this continues! We’ll end up with the most laughable coalition in recorded political history.”
The second man propped his chair up against the bare stone wall, rolling his sleeves up beyond his elbows and running a hand through cropped black hair. “How many do we have so far?”
The squat, balding, slightly overweight Petr leaned over the stained terminal he’d built with his own hands for the purpose of monitoring the results instead of availing himself with the government-provided, purpose-built (and more importantly hygienic) equipment. “The Liberty Party of Calavénë,” He mumbled. “two hundred and eleven … Two hundred and twelve. Yeah. Two hundred and twelve - That’s not great Alezander. We can count on the Elves’ only pseudo-party, the uh …”
Alezander rubbed at the lenses of his steel-rimmed spectacles with a cloth and a sigh, “The MelaCalavénë Party?” He suggested helpfully.
“Yeah,” Petr replied enthusiastically. “We can count on the Melon Party taking as close to four hundred as we dare and still believe victory can be ours. We can’t afford to lose prospective Federal Assembly Members to a Marxist love-fest in a garage and a couple of company directors with two cars. Not to mention the racists …”
“Forget about them,” Alexander interrupted sharply. “They’re in the very, very small minority and that’s where they’ll stay. We’ve done all we can and we’ve hardly stopped crisscrossing the country. We’ve done our best Petr; it’s time to let the system do what it does best and then we’ll take stock. We’ve waited over a hundred years to be allowed to participate in national elections. We can wait a little longer.”
Petr looked ambivalent; “Even if it’s ten years to wait for the next one?”
He didn’t receive an answer.
Election Day; Offices of the Ministry of the Interior; The City of Anduné; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2315 Hours.
Prime Minister Sejian nursed the tumbler glass he held in his hand, sloshing the last drizzle of the amber liquid around the bottom. From the room beyond the frenzied chat of a dozen party officials, assistants, organisers, analysers, advisors and every other facet of election campaigning echoed through the closed door. The occasional whoop rose like a crescendo as the ruling MelaCalavénë Party gained another increase on its voting percentage and with it another seat in the Federal Assembly. The periods of grumbling silence that followed always indicated the loss of held seats.
Leaning back into the comfortable sofa, Sejian sighed loudly, setting the glass on the table beside. Pulling his long black tresses back from his features, the Prime Minister tried to recall just how long it had been since the feeling of unease and nervousness which knotted and pulled at the pit of his stomach had last visited. He smiled ironically, as he recalled the leadership contest for the Party he had only narrowly won over one hundred and twenty years ago. The same nervousness, the same worry and strain hidden behind young, and cool detachment which had ultimately been banished on his ascension to Party Leader and with it his first government under the Kementári. As Elvish lives went, Sejian was not by any stretch of the imagination beyond the best years of his life - indeed he could barely remark to being halfway there on an average stretch and he had imagined many more centuries at the helm of the Nation; continuing to do his up most to improve for all Elves and their children.
The Human Factor had changed everything. He had made the recommendation to the Kementári almost a century ago to allow the refugees to land upon Calavénë. They had seen the war and the terror and self-destruction of their warlike neighbours and had felt great pity and sorrow for the thousands killed and exiled by insane rules and dictators. These huddled masses yearned to breathe freely and Sejian and had taken them here, to live in peace.
A hundred years had seen great contribution by the Humans. Their short lives over in the blink of the equivalent of the Elves, led them to great motivation and passion. They quickly and enthusiastically took their places in factories and the Armed Forces where their lack of relevant skills to the Elves could be compensated by their intense motivation and effort. As the decades rolled by they embraced education for their children and soon Human Doctors and Commissioned Officers appeared - Human business began and thrived and the culture of two people intertwined to some extent.
At that time the Prime Minister had not realised, as he did now, that it would never have been enough. The Humans would eventually crave representation, and power. They bred at a rate that placed the efforts of the Elves in the pale shade and their numbers rose and multiplied and now, recently, had come to surpass Calavénë’s original people. His administration had tried to bar the gates of change for as long as possible for all Elves knew that once concessions had been made it remained only a matter of time until Humanity became de-facto ruler over their former landlords. On this night, Sejian had finally seen his reinforced, strengthened wall of resistance crumble, splinter and finally shatter before the combined will of millions.
Shaking his head slightly, he became aware that the voices in the room beyond had been quiet for some time. Snatching up his grey over-jacket and pinching the bridge of his nose with weariness, the Prime Minister of Calavénë pushed open the double-set doors to be greeted by a dozen pair of sympathetic, angry, irritated, resigned and shocked eyes and at once, he knew.
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2350 Hours.
The scenes were like a carnival in full swing as the crowds danced and sang and swelled to as many as could fit through the expansive plazas and streets. Men and women scurried up walls and drains and affixed multi-coloured streamers and billowing banners amidst musical instruments bursting into uplifting song. People of all description and all creed joined each other in holding hands and chanting then name of the first Human to Calavénë’s penultimate office of power. Rickety wooden stalls were quickly set out on the pavements and stocked with food and drink as quickly as it could be made as the impromptu street parties spread from district to district.
Order began to direct the throng of the triumphant towards the gleaming white marble and steel office buildings which lined the inset fountain and pond marking the dead-end of one of the many winding streets of the city. Firing orange, yellow, green, red and a myriad of coloured pennants into the air the group congregated about the two flagpoles which flanked the perimeter wall of the facility. Content enough to wait the crowd continued their celebrations under the flag of the Federal Solidarity of Calavénë, and the flag of the triumphant Liberty Party.
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“ …This is Vanya Talahassa and you’re watching C.B.N. - The news of the nation, nationally on your complete All-Party Election coverage.”
“Breaking news now being confirmed by the Election Oversight Authority is that Alezander Reizeger’s Human-centric Liberty Party has just secured the percentage-vote required to take the four hundred and one seats minimally needed to form the dominant party in the Federal Assembly, thereby ending the century-long government reign of Prime Minister Sejian sensationally. Early exit polls seemed to indicate a spreading of Human support to several different parties which threatened to rob the Liberty Party of its expected stunning election victory. With confirmation it is now certain that for the first time in Elvish history a Human administration will be asked to form a government by the Kementári and will control the Calavénë political scene. Officals from the Officer of the Prime Minister have so far been unwilling to comment …”
Deputy Prime Minister Mahon continued to stare at the screen even after Táriyana had silenced the monitor - his face twisted in a frozen picture of horror. His mouth began to open and close though no words came out and after a titanic effort of heart and mind, he slowly dropped his head into his hands. The Kementári had standards of behaviour to uphold and as such she could not so easily share in the shock and worry of not only the pair, but every learned Elf in Calavénë felt at precisely that same time. A rapping upon the door took her attention elsewhere.
“Pardon my interruption my Lady,” The aide announced with a head poked between the open doors. “How shall I …”
“There is constitutional procedure to be followed,” She interrupted with a nod of her head. “Send for the Human Alezander Reizeger and request his audience at Elanessë Palace. Make sure the necessary preparations are in place.”
The Kementári returned her gaze to her former Deputy Prime Minister who had recovered enough to lay his head upon the backrest of the chair. “ … What do we do now?”
“We can do no more,” She replied almost apologetically, “You have been deposed from your office. I must now invite James Reizeger to form my next government …”
Táriyana straightened the bands of platinum that sat about her head as symbol of her supreme office, and climbed to her lithe feet. Now was a time for procedure, and convention and the rule of her law. She would push her feelings of dread, and fear to the very pit of her stomach and she would not consider them again until Calavénë entered a bold, unheard of and history-defying period of Human rule over Elves.
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2359Hours.
The clock mounted in the seat ahead informed Reizeger that it was now Friday whilst the motorcade had made its crawl from the front entrance of the offices, through the gates, and painfully slowly through the throng of delirious people dancing and holding street parties in the districts sorrounding. Buttoning up the collar of his shirt and throwing a blue necktie about his shoulders the Prime Minister-elect scratched at the day’s collection of stubble under his chin. He should have shaved.
Beside him Petr was the very epitome of a child let loose in a candy store. He could hardly keep still in his seat with hands reaching for every unnecessary luxury provided for by the limousine’s interior. His focus changing and rummaging through his bag upon the floor of the car he pulled a heavy stack of documents and began flittering through them. “Have you decided on Deputy Prime Minister?”
James resisted the urge to fix his eyes on Petr - instead continuing to look through the darkened windows and the jubilant scenes outside. His silence was insufficient for his colleague however, who simply took to explaining the grandiose plans he held for Calavénë on his ascension to the office in question.
“Hospitals Alezander; hospitals! We need more Human Doctors and medical professionals and we need it now. We need more Human teachers and police and civil servants and at last, I’ll be able to do it! I’ve been waiting so long for this and now it’s mine, it’s here! I’ll make such a difference, people are going to love me! … “
“It’s not going to be you,” Reizeger finally snapped with a mixture of resignation and annoyance. Petr’s eyes seemed to say he had heard the blow, but not accepted it as his mouth continued to produce vague promises and half-hearted manifestos. “We’re on very unstable political ground. The Elves have just lost a government that’s been sitting for a hundred years -- A hundred years! We are not an invading army sweeping to the capital’s gates to lay waste; we’re a legitimate part of Calavénë’s people and we’ve won a legitimate election. I need to keep the peace, Petr …”
“I intend to ask Sejian to be my Deputy Prime Minister.”
“You can’t be serious!” Petr exploded with his arms and voice. “He’s the most arrogant, self-assured, anti-Humanist I’ve ever seen. That Elf has been the organiser of everything that’s been thrown in our way in taking part in an All-Party Election! If he had his way we’d all be in the factories and in the fields labouring for our beloved Elven overlords!”
“He’s also a highly respected, highly capable politician,” Alezander countered. “We may have won a majority in the Federal Assembly and Humans as a whole may outnumber Elves but the balance is only just in our favour. We have a duty of care for the millions of Elves and their desires, feelings and politics. The best way to accommodate this is to appoint one to the most senior position in my administration.”
“I don’t need you to like it Petr,” Reizeger added quickly before his simmering colleague could reply, “I just need you to accept it. The decision is made. You’ll receive a cabinet position of course …”
Glancing at the bundles of paper, he sighed. “Perhaps not in Health & Welfare though …”
Kementári Táriyana Elanessë regarded the hall with a wrinkling of her nose, as palace staff around her activated the circulation fans secreted in the roof in an effort to dispel the somewhat aged, dusty smell that had settled on the chamber last used ten years before for her to offer Sejian the opportunity to form another government. Lights flickered to life and bathed the raised marble dais mounted in the centre of the hall, surrounded the audio and video links which would send the transmission to the corners of the Federal Solidarity and to any beyond who wished to observe.
Tugging on the three-quarter sleeved, shimmering blue overcoat that twinkled with the set stones in star patterns about the collar, Táriyana fidgeted with the flowing dress that obscured her feet and added considerably weight to her slight frame. She took her role as Eternal Monarch with the up most seriousness but the customs and wares of a thousand years ago did not sit well with contemporary Elven fashion - static as it was compared to the constantly changing Human fields. From her peripheral vision she spied the former Prime Minister and his Deputy stood somewhat glumly behind the security screens which separated selected guests from the dais. The Kementári felt a pang of regret in her chest as she realised Sejian - who she had grown to regard as a friend - would no longer be in a position to do so as was the expected norms.
“My Lady,” An Aide announced delicately from her left. “Alezander Reizeger and entourage has arrived - are you ready?”
She nodded, “Admit him to me.”
Whilst the expansive doors to the hall remained closed, the two Elvish officers flanking the frame from the Royal Military Police brought their arms up sharply in salute just before they swung open - superior hearing and training acting as an almost supernatural pre-warning. Led by the Palace’s Chief of Staff, the semi-familiar sight of her next Prime Minister walked into view.
He wore a three-piece suit as all Humans in formal dress were want to do - a tasteful black with dark blue waistcoat. With a tall and thin frame his stature resembled more an Elf than a Man - his stubble-covered chin and short, unkempt hair identifying him easily as the latter - he followed the Aide until such time as he stopped and the Human group came to a halt a few short feet from the edge of the dais itself. Pulling the folds of her cobalt-blue dress into the air enough to clear her feet, Táriyana stepped upon the marble and into the amplification zone of the waiting microphones.
“Alezander Reizeger,” She began with a rolling, booming bass not her own. “Having won a majority in the Federal Assembly on this day of the All-Party Election preceded by my agreement; having won the confidence of the Assembly and having demonstrated the will and clout to call forth the vote more-so than any other candidate by the authority, power and grace invested in me as Kementári, as Eternal Monarch of this Federal Solidarity of Calavénë, I ask you should you be willing, to come forth and accept my tender to form my government.”
Reizeger waited a few moments, with his head somewhat bowed as the Chief of Palace Staff had advised, before taking the few short steps - alone - to the Dais to join Táriyana. His hands clasped tightly in front, and perhaps in a fashion not quite so as dramatic as to be deserving of the occasion, his own decidedly gruffer, gravely voice rolled through the chamber.
“I humbly accept your offer and do now choose to form a government of loyalty, unity, peace and progression to yourself and all the peoples of this land regardless of their ancestry or belief.”
The Kementári nodded, “Then so let it be noted, written and known that Alezander Reizeger is duly empowered as the fourth Prime Minister of the Federal Solidarity of Calavénë from this date onwards until such time as otherwise. Have you now a nomination for Deputy Prime Minister,”
“I do my Lady,” The de-jure Prime Minister declared. “I would with his permission, understanding and acceptance choose Sejian Menalle as my Deputy Prime Minister.”
Reizeger knew he had taken a risk in the nomination. This ceremony was a formality - as required by law. Usually such discussion on the Deputy Prime Minister would have been taken and agreed upon well beforehand. Here he had made the brave assumption that involvement in government would overcome Sejian’s hurt at being deposed himself. All eyes fell upon the former Prime Minister and all ears regarded the deafening silence. His former Deputy, Mahon, had opened his mouth to say something - anything - but had succeeded only in appearing to gasp for air. As for the Elf himself, Sejian appeared deep in thought, chewing his lip very occasionally and directing an unreadable glance at Reizeger.
After many minutes stretched into hours by over-active imagination, Sejian nodded slowly. “I accept the nomination.”
Táriyana almost missed her mark, her own mind reeling at this unexpected event. Focusing on the task at hand, she resisted her hand’s urge to fidget and returned her eyes to Reizeger. “I accept your nomination and let it be duly recorded as so. I hereby declare this administration to power and with all support and assistance necessary set the State opening for the next session of the Federal Assembly to be the fourteenth day of April whereupon my government shall have the floor to declare its intent for the next session.”
The relative rarity of the event of a new government’s commissioning had pulled the attention of most attending back to the Kementári. Two men however heard nothing following the second nomination as Prime Minister Alezander Reizeger and Deputy Prime Minister Sejian regarded each other carefully and scanned each other for any hint of motivation, or understanding.
2200 Hours.
Táriyana Elanessë, holder of the hereditary office of Kementári, Head of State Eternal under the aegis of the Federal Solidarity of the nation of Calavénë wrung her hands in the bathing oranges and yellow lights of the expansive flames which danced under the carved marble mantle of the hearth. She suppressed the urge to shiver even though the modern heating systems regulated the temperature of the stateroom as well as any other section of the sprawling Elanessë Palace. Drawing flowing robes of cobalt blue about her lithe frame the leaned back against the stuffed leather of the high-backed, bone-white chair and sighed.
Casting a glance at the clock ticking diligently above the fireplace, Táriyana fought the urge to fidget and instead glanced towards the large double-set oak doors which lead from the foyer to the small library. The Kementári’s lips spread in a small smile - it was ironic that all the learned books and scholars of Calavénë’s long and distinguished literary history could not advise or help here. A loud rapping upon the door took her back to the moment.
“Come in,” Táriyana replied loudly as she stiffened her posture and banished any appearance of concern from her face. The hinges which bore the massive weight of the lovingly carved wood gave the slightest creak of protest and parted to admit one of the many retaining staff of the Palace; conspicuous in a sky-blue wrap-around jacket. The young man -- though many hundreds of years old by Elven standards he had barely begun to walk on this Earth -- gave the slightest bow. “Deputy Prime Minister Mahon to see you, Kementári.”
She nodded.
The Deputy Prime Minister brushed past the Palace aide with such preoccupation on his mind he almost forgot protocol and practically skidded to a halt upon the thick blue carpet laid out in front in order to deliver the customary bow before the Eternal Monarch. Finding himself once more Mahon dipped his head, fists opening and closing on obvious agitation though his face remained a picture of false calm.
“The last polling stations in Nénar have closed,” He said finally with an air of finality and took the proffered seat opposite the Kementári. “Counting has begun nationally - we should have a confirmed and checked final tally within two hours; pre-vote sampling results have been released. It seems you were right my Lady …”
“The Humans of Calavénë seem far more united in purpose than voting habit. If we treat these polls with healthy objectivity they still seem to show that the majority they hold in numbers over our own kind has almost been spent on a range of parties across the entire spectrum of politics. They have fought and demanded and struggled for the right to Enfranchisement and at the watershed of their first participation in elections for the Federal Assembly they seem to abhor bloc voting. They are diluting their own influence willingly.”
Táriyana nodded, folding alabaster hands into her lap. “Humans have been on our soil here for almost two centuries since we first took pity on their toil and allowed their tired ships to dock in our harbours and their shivering bodies to warm under our blankets. They have moved from their own sheltered cities, embracing only their own kind and culture and moved to integration and full participation in our society. We have seen their numbers grow at an almost alarming rate and now they have become more numerous than all the Elves of Calavénë and yet still, we do not understand them.”
“They have formed their own groups and they have petitioned for full citizenship. A minority of their kind has committed kidnap, and arson, and even murder to further this cause. A select few have betrayed the very nation they wish to actively shape in political interaction and yet they have never wavered. Younger generations have taken the torch from failing hands and continued until there was nothing for me to do but grant their desire. Even after all of this Mahon, we do not know them. They do not think as the Elves do and they never shall.”
“Save illness, and injury,” She continued, “Myself and you have lived dozens of Human lifetimes consecutively. We remember their first pathetic, huddled refugees and we remembered their first organised industry and working unions. Though we are not immortal we are as such when compared to their briefest flicker in existence. We have many centuries to debate, and ponder and one cannot help but be impressed by a race hamstrung by such a short time upon the Mortal Coil took action so quickly.”
The Deputy Prime-Minister’s face turned. “It is noble in spirit my Lady,” He baulked. “Yet in a land we have shaped and sculpted for a thousand years now we are marginalised. Their numbers are vast and have eclipsed our own totally and in this very election we may witness the loss of not only a majority in the Federal Assembly, but the Cabinet itself.”
“I am still Kementári!” Táriyana voice boomed. “I am still Kementári Elanessë, Eternal Monarch to these Elven lands. My feet felt the soft ground of the shores when I stepped from our grey ships and stood where our beautiful city of Anduné stands gleaming now. Let us now turn to the dark paths we almost took a few short decades ago Mahon; we attempted to dissuade the Humans of their desire for participation before and we failed and indeed, deserved to. When we did not turn their fleet back to the sea from whence it came those centuries ago we committed to a future with them.”
Her face set resolutely. “For better or for worse, this land is now home to us both and we both should shape it. Where is the Prime Minister watching the results this evening?”
Mahon resisted the urge to chew his lip. “Sejian was on a whistle-stop, frantic tour of the Eastern Gate. He spent a short time in Telumahter this morning - The Prime Minister was concerned that the lead Human opposition party was making credible promises towards shipbuilding in the area; we have a most difficult time in emerging with a majority in the Federal Assembly as is; the consequences of a change in Elvish votes, no matter how small, would be disastrous.”
Táriyana climbed to her feet and parted the hanging material of her gown enough to stretch stiffened legs. Casting another glance towards the mantel-mounted clock she pursed her lips in thought. “The Humans are very divided and their support is scattered across a dozen parties registered with the Federal Election Oversight Authority and even amongst unrecognised and unsanctioned parties. Whilst I do not begrudge them their vote, I am confident I will ask Sejian to form a …”
Her eyes lost focus for a moment as she trawled through hundreds of years’ worth of memories, “ … A fourteenth consecutive government.”
“I hope so my Lady,” Mahon replied with hesitation. “I truly hope so.”
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2225 Hours.
“That’s the second FAM for the Communist Part of Calavénë,” A high-pitched voice whined in equal measures of surprise and disgust. “What are they doing? I swear to God Almighty the Human Race is hardwired to ruin itself. We’ve spent months canvassing, educating and reinforcing how difficult it’s been to win the concession to vote and there are people running around the Capital with red flags baring hammers and sickles!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Elannanórë has always been a bastion of government spending. I wouldn’t look at that monitor again though Petr,” A second voice replied smoothly and with deeper intonation. “You won’t like it.”
“The Calavénë Libertarian Party? Is this thing right? Is it working? Are mental patients the first to vote? We’re never going to win if this continues! We’ll end up with the most laughable coalition in recorded political history.”
The second man propped his chair up against the bare stone wall, rolling his sleeves up beyond his elbows and running a hand through cropped black hair. “How many do we have so far?”
The squat, balding, slightly overweight Petr leaned over the stained terminal he’d built with his own hands for the purpose of monitoring the results instead of availing himself with the government-provided, purpose-built (and more importantly hygienic) equipment. “The Liberty Party of Calavénë,” He mumbled. “two hundred and eleven … Two hundred and twelve. Yeah. Two hundred and twelve - That’s not great Alezander. We can count on the Elves’ only pseudo-party, the uh …”
Alezander rubbed at the lenses of his steel-rimmed spectacles with a cloth and a sigh, “The MelaCalavénë Party?” He suggested helpfully.
“Yeah,” Petr replied enthusiastically. “We can count on the Melon Party taking as close to four hundred as we dare and still believe victory can be ours. We can’t afford to lose prospective Federal Assembly Members to a Marxist love-fest in a garage and a couple of company directors with two cars. Not to mention the racists …”
“Forget about them,” Alexander interrupted sharply. “They’re in the very, very small minority and that’s where they’ll stay. We’ve done all we can and we’ve hardly stopped crisscrossing the country. We’ve done our best Petr; it’s time to let the system do what it does best and then we’ll take stock. We’ve waited over a hundred years to be allowed to participate in national elections. We can wait a little longer.”
Petr looked ambivalent; “Even if it’s ten years to wait for the next one?”
He didn’t receive an answer.
Election Day; Offices of the Ministry of the Interior; The City of Anduné; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2315 Hours.
Prime Minister Sejian nursed the tumbler glass he held in his hand, sloshing the last drizzle of the amber liquid around the bottom. From the room beyond the frenzied chat of a dozen party officials, assistants, organisers, analysers, advisors and every other facet of election campaigning echoed through the closed door. The occasional whoop rose like a crescendo as the ruling MelaCalavénë Party gained another increase on its voting percentage and with it another seat in the Federal Assembly. The periods of grumbling silence that followed always indicated the loss of held seats.
Leaning back into the comfortable sofa, Sejian sighed loudly, setting the glass on the table beside. Pulling his long black tresses back from his features, the Prime Minister tried to recall just how long it had been since the feeling of unease and nervousness which knotted and pulled at the pit of his stomach had last visited. He smiled ironically, as he recalled the leadership contest for the Party he had only narrowly won over one hundred and twenty years ago. The same nervousness, the same worry and strain hidden behind young, and cool detachment which had ultimately been banished on his ascension to Party Leader and with it his first government under the Kementári. As Elvish lives went, Sejian was not by any stretch of the imagination beyond the best years of his life - indeed he could barely remark to being halfway there on an average stretch and he had imagined many more centuries at the helm of the Nation; continuing to do his up most to improve for all Elves and their children.
The Human Factor had changed everything. He had made the recommendation to the Kementári almost a century ago to allow the refugees to land upon Calavénë. They had seen the war and the terror and self-destruction of their warlike neighbours and had felt great pity and sorrow for the thousands killed and exiled by insane rules and dictators. These huddled masses yearned to breathe freely and Sejian and had taken them here, to live in peace.
A hundred years had seen great contribution by the Humans. Their short lives over in the blink of the equivalent of the Elves, led them to great motivation and passion. They quickly and enthusiastically took their places in factories and the Armed Forces where their lack of relevant skills to the Elves could be compensated by their intense motivation and effort. As the decades rolled by they embraced education for their children and soon Human Doctors and Commissioned Officers appeared - Human business began and thrived and the culture of two people intertwined to some extent.
At that time the Prime Minister had not realised, as he did now, that it would never have been enough. The Humans would eventually crave representation, and power. They bred at a rate that placed the efforts of the Elves in the pale shade and their numbers rose and multiplied and now, recently, had come to surpass Calavénë’s original people. His administration had tried to bar the gates of change for as long as possible for all Elves knew that once concessions had been made it remained only a matter of time until Humanity became de-facto ruler over their former landlords. On this night, Sejian had finally seen his reinforced, strengthened wall of resistance crumble, splinter and finally shatter before the combined will of millions.
Shaking his head slightly, he became aware that the voices in the room beyond had been quiet for some time. Snatching up his grey over-jacket and pinching the bridge of his nose with weariness, the Prime Minister of Calavénë pushed open the double-set doors to be greeted by a dozen pair of sympathetic, angry, irritated, resigned and shocked eyes and at once, he knew.
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2350 Hours.
The scenes were like a carnival in full swing as the crowds danced and sang and swelled to as many as could fit through the expansive plazas and streets. Men and women scurried up walls and drains and affixed multi-coloured streamers and billowing banners amidst musical instruments bursting into uplifting song. People of all description and all creed joined each other in holding hands and chanting then name of the first Human to Calavénë’s penultimate office of power. Rickety wooden stalls were quickly set out on the pavements and stocked with food and drink as quickly as it could be made as the impromptu street parties spread from district to district.
Order began to direct the throng of the triumphant towards the gleaming white marble and steel office buildings which lined the inset fountain and pond marking the dead-end of one of the many winding streets of the city. Firing orange, yellow, green, red and a myriad of coloured pennants into the air the group congregated about the two flagpoles which flanked the perimeter wall of the facility. Content enough to wait the crowd continued their celebrations under the flag of the Federal Solidarity of Calavénë, and the flag of the triumphant Liberty Party.
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“ …This is Vanya Talahassa and you’re watching C.B.N. - The news of the nation, nationally on your complete All-Party Election coverage.”
“Breaking news now being confirmed by the Election Oversight Authority is that Alezander Reizeger’s Human-centric Liberty Party has just secured the percentage-vote required to take the four hundred and one seats minimally needed to form the dominant party in the Federal Assembly, thereby ending the century-long government reign of Prime Minister Sejian sensationally. Early exit polls seemed to indicate a spreading of Human support to several different parties which threatened to rob the Liberty Party of its expected stunning election victory. With confirmation it is now certain that for the first time in Elvish history a Human administration will be asked to form a government by the Kementári and will control the Calavénë political scene. Officals from the Officer of the Prime Minister have so far been unwilling to comment …”
Deputy Prime Minister Mahon continued to stare at the screen even after Táriyana had silenced the monitor - his face twisted in a frozen picture of horror. His mouth began to open and close though no words came out and after a titanic effort of heart and mind, he slowly dropped his head into his hands. The Kementári had standards of behaviour to uphold and as such she could not so easily share in the shock and worry of not only the pair, but every learned Elf in Calavénë felt at precisely that same time. A rapping upon the door took her attention elsewhere.
“Pardon my interruption my Lady,” The aide announced with a head poked between the open doors. “How shall I …”
“There is constitutional procedure to be followed,” She interrupted with a nod of her head. “Send for the Human Alezander Reizeger and request his audience at Elanessë Palace. Make sure the necessary preparations are in place.”
The Kementári returned her gaze to her former Deputy Prime Minister who had recovered enough to lay his head upon the backrest of the chair. “ … What do we do now?”
“We can do no more,” She replied almost apologetically, “You have been deposed from your office. I must now invite James Reizeger to form my next government …”
Táriyana straightened the bands of platinum that sat about her head as symbol of her supreme office, and climbed to her lithe feet. Now was a time for procedure, and convention and the rule of her law. She would push her feelings of dread, and fear to the very pit of her stomach and she would not consider them again until Calavénë entered a bold, unheard of and history-defying period of Human rule over Elves.
Election Day; Campaign Offices of The Liberty Party of Calavénë; The City of Elannanórë; The Federal Solidarity of Calavénë.
2359Hours.
The clock mounted in the seat ahead informed Reizeger that it was now Friday whilst the motorcade had made its crawl from the front entrance of the offices, through the gates, and painfully slowly through the throng of delirious people dancing and holding street parties in the districts sorrounding. Buttoning up the collar of his shirt and throwing a blue necktie about his shoulders the Prime Minister-elect scratched at the day’s collection of stubble under his chin. He should have shaved.
Beside him Petr was the very epitome of a child let loose in a candy store. He could hardly keep still in his seat with hands reaching for every unnecessary luxury provided for by the limousine’s interior. His focus changing and rummaging through his bag upon the floor of the car he pulled a heavy stack of documents and began flittering through them. “Have you decided on Deputy Prime Minister?”
James resisted the urge to fix his eyes on Petr - instead continuing to look through the darkened windows and the jubilant scenes outside. His silence was insufficient for his colleague however, who simply took to explaining the grandiose plans he held for Calavénë on his ascension to the office in question.
“Hospitals Alezander; hospitals! We need more Human Doctors and medical professionals and we need it now. We need more Human teachers and police and civil servants and at last, I’ll be able to do it! I’ve been waiting so long for this and now it’s mine, it’s here! I’ll make such a difference, people are going to love me! … “
“It’s not going to be you,” Reizeger finally snapped with a mixture of resignation and annoyance. Petr’s eyes seemed to say he had heard the blow, but not accepted it as his mouth continued to produce vague promises and half-hearted manifestos. “We’re on very unstable political ground. The Elves have just lost a government that’s been sitting for a hundred years -- A hundred years! We are not an invading army sweeping to the capital’s gates to lay waste; we’re a legitimate part of Calavénë’s people and we’ve won a legitimate election. I need to keep the peace, Petr …”
“I intend to ask Sejian to be my Deputy Prime Minister.”
“You can’t be serious!” Petr exploded with his arms and voice. “He’s the most arrogant, self-assured, anti-Humanist I’ve ever seen. That Elf has been the organiser of everything that’s been thrown in our way in taking part in an All-Party Election! If he had his way we’d all be in the factories and in the fields labouring for our beloved Elven overlords!”
“He’s also a highly respected, highly capable politician,” Alezander countered. “We may have won a majority in the Federal Assembly and Humans as a whole may outnumber Elves but the balance is only just in our favour. We have a duty of care for the millions of Elves and their desires, feelings and politics. The best way to accommodate this is to appoint one to the most senior position in my administration.”
“I don’t need you to like it Petr,” Reizeger added quickly before his simmering colleague could reply, “I just need you to accept it. The decision is made. You’ll receive a cabinet position of course …”
Glancing at the bundles of paper, he sighed. “Perhaps not in Health & Welfare though …”
Kementári Táriyana Elanessë regarded the hall with a wrinkling of her nose, as palace staff around her activated the circulation fans secreted in the roof in an effort to dispel the somewhat aged, dusty smell that had settled on the chamber last used ten years before for her to offer Sejian the opportunity to form another government. Lights flickered to life and bathed the raised marble dais mounted in the centre of the hall, surrounded the audio and video links which would send the transmission to the corners of the Federal Solidarity and to any beyond who wished to observe.
Tugging on the three-quarter sleeved, shimmering blue overcoat that twinkled with the set stones in star patterns about the collar, Táriyana fidgeted with the flowing dress that obscured her feet and added considerably weight to her slight frame. She took her role as Eternal Monarch with the up most seriousness but the customs and wares of a thousand years ago did not sit well with contemporary Elven fashion - static as it was compared to the constantly changing Human fields. From her peripheral vision she spied the former Prime Minister and his Deputy stood somewhat glumly behind the security screens which separated selected guests from the dais. The Kementári felt a pang of regret in her chest as she realised Sejian - who she had grown to regard as a friend - would no longer be in a position to do so as was the expected norms.
“My Lady,” An Aide announced delicately from her left. “Alezander Reizeger and entourage has arrived - are you ready?”
She nodded, “Admit him to me.”
Whilst the expansive doors to the hall remained closed, the two Elvish officers flanking the frame from the Royal Military Police brought their arms up sharply in salute just before they swung open - superior hearing and training acting as an almost supernatural pre-warning. Led by the Palace’s Chief of Staff, the semi-familiar sight of her next Prime Minister walked into view.
He wore a three-piece suit as all Humans in formal dress were want to do - a tasteful black with dark blue waistcoat. With a tall and thin frame his stature resembled more an Elf than a Man - his stubble-covered chin and short, unkempt hair identifying him easily as the latter - he followed the Aide until such time as he stopped and the Human group came to a halt a few short feet from the edge of the dais itself. Pulling the folds of her cobalt-blue dress into the air enough to clear her feet, Táriyana stepped upon the marble and into the amplification zone of the waiting microphones.
“Alezander Reizeger,” She began with a rolling, booming bass not her own. “Having won a majority in the Federal Assembly on this day of the All-Party Election preceded by my agreement; having won the confidence of the Assembly and having demonstrated the will and clout to call forth the vote more-so than any other candidate by the authority, power and grace invested in me as Kementári, as Eternal Monarch of this Federal Solidarity of Calavénë, I ask you should you be willing, to come forth and accept my tender to form my government.”
Reizeger waited a few moments, with his head somewhat bowed as the Chief of Palace Staff had advised, before taking the few short steps - alone - to the Dais to join Táriyana. His hands clasped tightly in front, and perhaps in a fashion not quite so as dramatic as to be deserving of the occasion, his own decidedly gruffer, gravely voice rolled through the chamber.
“I humbly accept your offer and do now choose to form a government of loyalty, unity, peace and progression to yourself and all the peoples of this land regardless of their ancestry or belief.”
The Kementári nodded, “Then so let it be noted, written and known that Alezander Reizeger is duly empowered as the fourth Prime Minister of the Federal Solidarity of Calavénë from this date onwards until such time as otherwise. Have you now a nomination for Deputy Prime Minister,”
“I do my Lady,” The de-jure Prime Minister declared. “I would with his permission, understanding and acceptance choose Sejian Menalle as my Deputy Prime Minister.”
Reizeger knew he had taken a risk in the nomination. This ceremony was a formality - as required by law. Usually such discussion on the Deputy Prime Minister would have been taken and agreed upon well beforehand. Here he had made the brave assumption that involvement in government would overcome Sejian’s hurt at being deposed himself. All eyes fell upon the former Prime Minister and all ears regarded the deafening silence. His former Deputy, Mahon, had opened his mouth to say something - anything - but had succeeded only in appearing to gasp for air. As for the Elf himself, Sejian appeared deep in thought, chewing his lip very occasionally and directing an unreadable glance at Reizeger.
After many minutes stretched into hours by over-active imagination, Sejian nodded slowly. “I accept the nomination.”
Táriyana almost missed her mark, her own mind reeling at this unexpected event. Focusing on the task at hand, she resisted her hand’s urge to fidget and returned her eyes to Reizeger. “I accept your nomination and let it be duly recorded as so. I hereby declare this administration to power and with all support and assistance necessary set the State opening for the next session of the Federal Assembly to be the fourteenth day of April whereupon my government shall have the floor to declare its intent for the next session.”
The relative rarity of the event of a new government’s commissioning had pulled the attention of most attending back to the Kementári. Two men however heard nothing following the second nomination as Prime Minister Alezander Reizeger and Deputy Prime Minister Sejian regarded each other carefully and scanned each other for any hint of motivation, or understanding.