High-Opp

Chapter 28

The pendulum had swung through its full arc. What smacked of the old regime could not be tolerated. Although it was not expressed in these terms, the words smacking too much of the poll government, Movius bowed to popular opinion.

The ceremony was held in St. Peter’s Church, Rome, beneath the dome that centuries of worship had gone to preserve. It was a ceremony which took several months to research and preparation to get all of the details correct, but correct they were, down to the smallest costume for the smallest page. Video cameras focused on the event for all the world to see.

On the island of St. Kitts in the Caribbean, three exiles also watched. They sat in a warm room, open to the sea breeze and the smell of flowers. A wide verandah shaded them from the hot sun. In the dim room there was the big, square screen, the murmurous buzzing of flies.

Warren Gerard leaned back in a rattan chair, nervously wiping perspiration from his bald head. Loren Addington sat with his back to a wall, chewed placidly on a lozenge. A door slammed somewhere in the house. He jumped, resumed his chewing.

Quilliam London, his body finally failing after the years of poor food in the Warrens, sat in a wheel chair, a crutch across his lap. As the spiritual descendant of Peter lowered the golden crown onto Emperor Movius’ head, Quilliam London threw his crutch at the video screen, smashing the picture tube.

“Thank you,” said Gerard. “I had nothing to throw.”

“I thought it was kind of pretty,” said Addington.

“You would, owl guts,” said Gerard.

Across the ocean in Rome, Emperor Movius stepped back, watched the crowning of his empress. The bulge of her abdomen where she carried Movius II hardly showed at all through her royal robes.

Afterward, at the remodeled Palazzo San Lorenzo, Emperor Movius granted an audience to his chief counselor, Nathan O’Brien. The audience was in a throne room with O’Brien’s short figure standing at the foot of six steps leading up to a gold throne. Emperor Movius relaxed on the throne.

“Dan, I…”

“Just a moment,” said Emperor Movius. “We are now the Emperor, the first Emperor of the entire world.”

“Yes, sir,” said O’Brien.

“The proper form of address is Your Majesty,” said Emperor Movius.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said O’Brien. “Now, if you’ll…”

“Just a moment,” said Emperor Movius. “An Emperor may grant his intimates special privileges. In our private audiences, you may call us Dan.”

“Yes, Dan; I know. Now…”

“You knew?” Movius grinned. “Well be quiet a minute, then, and listen.”

O’Brien assumed an air of suffering silence. He knew he was being paid for the years he had manipulated Movius’ life. He also knew that the role of Emperor struck Movius mostly as a joke. “Proceed,” said O’Brien.

“When you run out of other things to call me you may refer to our august person as Ultimate High-Opp,” said Movius. “Now to business. We are this day giving you, our chief counselor, an additional duty. Duke Navvy will assist you in this duty which carries an Earldom for yourself. We want you to take over a Department of Education. We have a long list of suggested compulsory subjects.”

“Excellent,” said Earl O’Brien. “And now…”

“We have not finished,” said Emperor Movius. “We also want you to bend your efforts to a plan of oppression for our peoples.”

“A what?”

“We want to be gently oppressive,” said Emperor Movius. “When it has become too much for our peoples to bear, they will come to us demanding their equivalent of the Magna Carta. Protesting the divine rights of Emperors, we will grant their demands.”

“So the cycle starts again,” said O’Brien.

“Act,” said Emperor Movius. “Lastly, we wish you to start research on space flight. There should be no lack of volunteers. A suitable refuge should be found for ourselves or descendants, anticipating the moment when the cycle rounds its next curve.”

“Are you quite finished?” asked O’Brien.

“Yes.” Emperor Movius gave a lordly wave of his hand. “Say, I’m getting pretty good at the high and mighty attitude.” He waved the hand once more. “Notice the wrist.”

“I have an important message,” said O’Brien.

“Eh? Oh, yes, of course. Proceed.”

O’Brien cleared his throat. “I have a report from one of our cell chiefs in Istanbul. A group of sixty-one former government employees has started a revolutionary group there. They call themselves the ‘Unity’ party. They…”

“Unity Party,” said Emperor Movius. “That has a nice sound, hasn’t it?”

O’Brien glared at him. “Dan, this is serious! The report is that these are some of the toughest boys from the old government and they may have friends elsewhere.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked O’Brien.

“Roper’s Na… I mean, Great Emperor! Isn’t it obvious?”

Emperor Movius shook his head. “No.”

“I want authorization for a control squad to check back on these people and eliminate them before they grow stronger.”

Emperor Movius jumped from his throne. “You’ll get nothing of the kind!” He pointed a finger down at O’Brien. “We are holding you personally responsible for the safety of these people. You’ll see that their movement thrives and prospers.”

“What?” O’Brien quivered with indignant fury, mounted the first step to the throne. “They mean to kill you!”

Emperor Movius resumed his seat on his throne. “Of course they do. That’s Janus Peterson’s worry.” He shook his head. “Poor Nate. In spite of all of your charts and figures, the very simple meaning of everything you did has escaped you.”

O’Brien folded his arms across his chest. “Really?”

Movius’ face grew serious. “Nate, you of all people should see it.” He leaned forward, “15 years ago… whenever it was you saw this crisis coming, you decided to take a hand in it. Your motive was preserving your own special knowledge, the cultural data you had accumulated for the use of future generations.”

“Yes, but…”

“Let me finish.” Movius leaned back, watching O’Brien carefully. “You took a hand - you looked for the catalyst. Brownley was one who failed. You picked me up back there somewhere, guided, cajoled and tricked me into the crucial position in the revolution. It was revolution—and this is the important point—against the government of which you were a part. You might say you planned to overthrow yourself.”

O’Brien took a step toward the throne, waved an angry hand. “You’re the one who misses the point. I was trying to preserve something in spite of a revolution that was inevitably coming. Inevitably is the important word. There was no chance the government wouldn’t be overthrown, I was trying to save…”

Movius interrupted him. “And what makes you think this will last?” He waved a hand around the throne room, at the gold trappings and ostentation, “How long do you think the people of the world will tolerate me… or if they don’t assassinate me, it will be one of my descendants.” He frowned. “Another revolution is even more inevitable than the last one.”

O’Brien took another step up toward the throne. “The report from Istanbul could be the faint beginnings of the end for everything you represent.”

Movius stood up, looked down on the tiny figure of O’Brien. “Of course it is! That is why you are personally responsible for the safety of those people. We have been fortunate enough to catch the countermovement at the beginning. We can nurture it if we want to preserve whatever is worth saving in our present culture. Do you see my point now?”

O’Brien pulled at his ear. “I think you’re out of your mind,” he said.

Emperor Movius smiled a grim smile. “The significance of what we have done has been known to many governments, seldom practiced in its pure form.”

“Get to the point, will you?” snapped O’Brien.

Emperor Movius ignored the anger of his advisor. He extended his arms regally. “For a civilization to survive a crisis… in order that the good will not go with the bad… it is essential that an element of the government have charge of the revolution.”