03-17-2019, 01:43 AM
Life and liberty for all did not mean all men were equal. Sometimes men really were gods. Neither did Nikolai rise to presidency in Russia – of all the places in the world – without intuition. Others would always covet his position, men were fickle, jealous, petty creatures. The trick was to expect it, and wield the players on the table against one another. Scion, Amengual and Thrice case in point. Three people all promised the role of Patron of the Americas, but only if they survived to the formation of the Dominion over which they may someday govern.
Regus was correct about one opinion. Threats – seedlings though they were – would grow around the world. It was all the more reason why he needed the remaining nations beneath his hand before one rash decision sparked a world war.
“By that logic,” he began, leaning forward, intent in gaze and tone, “then you should be helping me,” he said.
He anticipated an emotional reaction: scoffing or laughter. So he continued quickly, “Help me design a world where we won’t let it happen again. If anyone were to be victim to indentured servitude, it would be the channelers working for those willing to pay for their gifts. Think of the healers, the builders, the artists to come. Sustainable energy, clean water, food. Resources for all without indicting socialism. It would be a glorious future, and we would be half-way there if you weren’t distracting me. The prosperity I brought in the past with the vision I hold for the future...it will be glorious, ” he said.
He shifted in his seat, jaw tilted slightly. Acceptance swarmed his expression peaceful, “You’ll never be able to eradicate all channelers again. The Atharim of today are not your ancestors. I am not Aidoneus. Follow your own logic to the end. The fate you fear will be your own creation should you follow this path, Armande.”
He will have none but himself to blame.
Regus was correct about one opinion. Threats – seedlings though they were – would grow around the world. It was all the more reason why he needed the remaining nations beneath his hand before one rash decision sparked a world war.
“By that logic,” he began, leaning forward, intent in gaze and tone, “then you should be helping me,” he said.
He anticipated an emotional reaction: scoffing or laughter. So he continued quickly, “Help me design a world where we won’t let it happen again. If anyone were to be victim to indentured servitude, it would be the channelers working for those willing to pay for their gifts. Think of the healers, the builders, the artists to come. Sustainable energy, clean water, food. Resources for all without indicting socialism. It would be a glorious future, and we would be half-way there if you weren’t distracting me. The prosperity I brought in the past with the vision I hold for the future...it will be glorious, ” he said.
He shifted in his seat, jaw tilted slightly. Acceptance swarmed his expression peaceful, “You’ll never be able to eradicate all channelers again. The Atharim of today are not your ancestors. I am not Aidoneus. Follow your own logic to the end. The fate you fear will be your own creation should you follow this path, Armande.”
He will have none but himself to blame.