The Freethinkers
18-02-2008, 03:46
Sarah peered at her predecessor as he shifted the last box of his office notes in his hands. Shuffling the box under his arm, Theo Barham extended his arm out in a friendly hand, which Farahind took with a warm smile and genuine expression.
“Well, sorry to have kept you waiting, protocol and all.”
“Will you miss it?” She asked, respectful in tone. They have been political enemies but it was hard not to respect the man who had occupied the mantle of the Freestian premiership for so long. By human standards anyway. The handshake was still strong for such an elder, even if the ghoul could have crushed his hand with little effort, she in this moment felt surprisingly week in its confident grasp.
“Of course, my dear. But not the late nights, not the worrying, not the decisions that you too will have to make. The country I have left you is strong, but it needs something more. I believe, even if we do were different colours, that we both share the same feeling. Do well for Olympia and the Commonwealth, Sarah, and do your nation and your species proud.”
“My species….” her smiled faded a little, but she recovered quickly. “It will be noted won’t it?”
“You’re the baseline my dear!” He said, louder and almost surprised. “Just another challenge to face. And you will succeed. I am glad to say my retirement means no longer having to put up with your criticism, something for which I will admit now I thankful for.”
“Not mad I beat Benchley?” She said, almost pouting, towering over the former PM she looked almost comical in the gesture.
“The guy is a fuckwit. Quite frankly I don’t see my colleagues getting back any time soon.”
“So anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah. But I can’t teach you it. Just learn to understand that every decision you make from now will hurt someone. Just try to hurt as few people possible and you might just make it.” Another smile on the wrinkled old face. Sarah smiled back again, her fangs glistening white.
“I will remember. Good luck Theo. Have fun.”
“You too, my dear. You too.”
And he left, leaving Sarah standing alone in the office. Stripped bare, the cavernous chamber, decorated in stone and marble and little else, echoed with the sound of the retiring footsteps. The huge windows on one end flood the room with orange light from the morning sun, bright and active. The only remaining furniture sat the wooden desk of office, and the statue of Olympia nearer the window and balcony, her raised torch and bloodied arm pointing to the bay beyond the glaze.
She moved to its side, touching the base. Around her aides began to file in, placing down her boxes and equipment, decorations and the like, but she ignored them for the moment. She swung the handles and walked out onto the balcony, a massive tiled plaza for her exclusive use, across a gothic façade for a fence that she moved up to, the breeze cooling her in the harsh Freestian sun.
Farahind reached the edge and peered across, still silent, the gardens and plazas below. The Capitol district with its huge neo-classical and gothic buildings, columns the size of skyscrapers alongside similar sized sculptures across the gentle hills that made up the district. Civil engineering on a vast scale that wound into the even more impressive grand architecture of Navarrok, the ancient fortress and gargantuan spire soaring before her. Beyond that sat the faint grey smudge of the Docklands, and beyond the Navarre Basin, the busiest waterway on the planet it was said.
Her city, her charge. A tiny fraction of a vast urban conurbation shielded from the harshness of the land by massive mountains and waterways and the iron hardness of her defenders.
And she suddenly felt alone and cold, dwarfed by the city, dwarfed by her office, and realising in this moment the enormity of her task.
Where to start.
“Well, sorry to have kept you waiting, protocol and all.”
“Will you miss it?” She asked, respectful in tone. They have been political enemies but it was hard not to respect the man who had occupied the mantle of the Freestian premiership for so long. By human standards anyway. The handshake was still strong for such an elder, even if the ghoul could have crushed his hand with little effort, she in this moment felt surprisingly week in its confident grasp.
“Of course, my dear. But not the late nights, not the worrying, not the decisions that you too will have to make. The country I have left you is strong, but it needs something more. I believe, even if we do were different colours, that we both share the same feeling. Do well for Olympia and the Commonwealth, Sarah, and do your nation and your species proud.”
“My species….” her smiled faded a little, but she recovered quickly. “It will be noted won’t it?”
“You’re the baseline my dear!” He said, louder and almost surprised. “Just another challenge to face. And you will succeed. I am glad to say my retirement means no longer having to put up with your criticism, something for which I will admit now I thankful for.”
“Not mad I beat Benchley?” She said, almost pouting, towering over the former PM she looked almost comical in the gesture.
“The guy is a fuckwit. Quite frankly I don’t see my colleagues getting back any time soon.”
“So anything else I need to know?”
“Yeah. But I can’t teach you it. Just learn to understand that every decision you make from now will hurt someone. Just try to hurt as few people possible and you might just make it.” Another smile on the wrinkled old face. Sarah smiled back again, her fangs glistening white.
“I will remember. Good luck Theo. Have fun.”
“You too, my dear. You too.”
And he left, leaving Sarah standing alone in the office. Stripped bare, the cavernous chamber, decorated in stone and marble and little else, echoed with the sound of the retiring footsteps. The huge windows on one end flood the room with orange light from the morning sun, bright and active. The only remaining furniture sat the wooden desk of office, and the statue of Olympia nearer the window and balcony, her raised torch and bloodied arm pointing to the bay beyond the glaze.
She moved to its side, touching the base. Around her aides began to file in, placing down her boxes and equipment, decorations and the like, but she ignored them for the moment. She swung the handles and walked out onto the balcony, a massive tiled plaza for her exclusive use, across a gothic façade for a fence that she moved up to, the breeze cooling her in the harsh Freestian sun.
Farahind reached the edge and peered across, still silent, the gardens and plazas below. The Capitol district with its huge neo-classical and gothic buildings, columns the size of skyscrapers alongside similar sized sculptures across the gentle hills that made up the district. Civil engineering on a vast scale that wound into the even more impressive grand architecture of Navarrok, the ancient fortress and gargantuan spire soaring before her. Beyond that sat the faint grey smudge of the Docklands, and beyond the Navarre Basin, the busiest waterway on the planet it was said.
Her city, her charge. A tiny fraction of a vast urban conurbation shielded from the harshness of the land by massive mountains and waterways and the iron hardness of her defenders.
And she suddenly felt alone and cold, dwarfed by the city, dwarfed by her office, and realising in this moment the enormity of her task.
Where to start.