Tea Party Finale – On Opposition (Patreon)

In the end, only a tiny number of those invited to the restaurant decided to continue on to the tea party. An ironic and partly planned state of affairs. The smaller the circle of attendees, the more thorough and prolonged the conversations.

What mattered to John was that Emrik decided to stay. The Speaker of Commons was accompanied by three other politicians, none of which were of truly any import. One of them was not even going to remain in office after their current term was up. They were polling terribly following a couple of unpopular legislative choices. There was a chance he was going to be the first politician in Fusion that would get recalled.

If John had organized the party, he probably would not have invited that person. Nightingale had. That was neither good nor bad, there was value in listening to those that knew they were on their way out anyway. Criticism was at its most honest when there would be no consequences. It was also at its most sweeping. An honest belief did not equate a fact.

Eventually, they all sat around a circular table in one of the smaller side chambers of the area that John had given to Nightingale to customize. The walls were of black marble, silver veins running through. Deep blue carpeted the floor. The ceiling had many separate lights that individually rose and fell in intensity, like distantly flickering stars. Coordination between them assured that the light level remained the same.

Hailey tried to sip on the tea. She backed off at the very last second. “All the luxury of magic and y’all still haven’t figured out how to have tea that ain’t too hot,” she complained and tossed a sugar cube in it. “This is why ya drink ice tea.”

“Huh, we have found the limit,” John thought out loud.

“What?” the country gal blinked confusedly in his direction.

“The limit of how much country gal I enjoy.”

“Ya draw the line at ice tea?”

“Ice tea is barbaric.”

“…You do be hangin’ around Europeans too much, hon’.”

“Do you measure in metric?”

“This got nothin’ to do with that.”

A spoon scraped the inside of a porcelain cup. John turned his gaze to Emrik. The Speaker of Commons was using his magic to turn the steam from his tea into a small vortex above his hand. Steadily, it decreased in size, the steam turning too cold to contrast with the rest of the air. “Your new woman is fascinating, John,” he said and raised his cup. He toasted and downed it in one go.

“A refill?” Nightingale offered, nimbly raising the teapot with her claws.

“No, thank you, Lady Nightingale,” Emrik denied. “I’m here for the conversation, not the beverages.”

“I suppose I should raise the obvious question then,” John put his hands on the table. “Why did you vote against the motion?”

“You know the answer,” Emrik responded calmly. There was not even a twitch to his facial muscles, while he leaned back and looked at his own folded hands.

“Because it was against what I wanted,” John stated, his voice devoid of any judgement.

Emrik nodded slowly. The other two politicians in the room were not surprised, just kept stirring their own tea and listened while the two most powerful governmental representatives discussed. “Truth be told, I have no hard opinion on joining the Divided Gates. It will neither help nor hurt the Lake Alliance that we are part of it.”

“It is unjust to vote for one’s expediency rather than one’s convictions,” Nightingale chided, taking a stance for the first time that evening.

Emrik sighed and shook his head. “I have a conviction, one that supersedes everything else: John Newman is too powerful to be a president.” The Speaker directed his gaze at John, then Nightingale, then averted it again. There was no shame in any of his motions, just calculating honesty. “I have been honest with this and will continue to be so. There’s no point in supporting you. The nation already does. To retain my political power, to make sure there’s even just a cluster of states that could withstand your federal authority, I must have the loyalty of your opposition.”

“And so opposing me itself becomes the principle,” John summarized.

Emrik straightened up in his chair, his deep green eyes wandering between John and Nightingale. Before she raised her voice, they darted over to Hailey. “Seems pretty cuntish, not gonna lie.”

“Then you don’t understand,” Emrik stated simply. “You’re a minarchist, correct?”

“That’s a word for it, I guess?” Hailey drawled.

“What do you do, when a politician in office, that you personally support, gathers the power to change everything at a whim?” Emrik asked. “Do you forsake your own principles and let them have that absolute power, trusting that they will not use it? For a term? For a decade? For a century? How long will that trust hold?”

Hailey rolled her head, while she considered. “Yes,” she finally stated.

John failed to suppress a chuckle when Emrik was stunned by the country gal’s answer. “Could you repeat that?” he requested.

“Yeeeees,” Hailey responded slowly.

The difficulty to comprehend that the country gal actually and fully believed that was written on Emrik’s face. John cleared his throat to get the giggle fit under control. “You would forsake your principles because you trust someone?”

“Ya politicians and your theory mumbo-jumbo ain’t how I view the world,” Hailey gave it to him directly. “Your example was that I trusted the man, woman, bug person - whatever in charge. If I trust them with absolute power, then I ain’t forsakin’ a single one of my principles. Long as they don’t step on my property, I don’t care.”

“That is naïve.”

“No, it ain’t,” Hailey shot back immediately, audibly getting annoyed. “Ya think a southern girl don’t know what happens when you have people in charge with too much power? You’re the problem here. You think that with all your fancy politics brain y’all can just write up the proper system. Got news for you – all your systems are only worth as much as the cogs in the machine. You said – specifically – I trust the guy.”

“Then let’s change that part of the example…” Emrik started.

Hailey threw her hands up in the air. “Oh yeah, let’s just change the most important part, that’s not gonna twist things.” She sipped on her tea and threw in another sugar cube. “Anyhoo, you can just state your point: you don’t trust John absolutely, so you’ll be the check and balance. Every time ya don’t have a strong opinion on a matter, you’ll take the opposite position just ‘cause.” She pointed at him. “People like you are why I hate politicians.”

An eyebrow rose, then fell on Emrik’s face. Nothing betrayed whether that statement hurt him. John was in an exceptionally good mood, hearing someone unload on Emrik like that. Truthfully, he did have empathy for the Speaker’s position. What else could someone that was concerned about the Gamer’s many-layered power and influence do to weaken his power base even just a little bit?

Nightingale chose that moment to answer that question. “If I may,” she carefully spoke up, “it would be more productive for the Federation if you attend these tea parties regularly. A token resistance provides you peace of mind. To converse with John will give you an ear.”

“For all the ire I have for your opposition, Emrik, I do respect your savviness,” John backed up his lady of the night. “I have done my best to meet your demands previously, as best as I can in my position. I’ve kept my word, haven’t I?”

“It is not you keeping your words that I’m concerned about. It is you twisting it,” Emrik stated. “Could I have another cup after all?”

The question put a sudden pause in the conversation. Nightingale raised the teapot to pour the amber liquid into Emrik’s cup. While he worked his wind magic again, cooling the tea down, there was only the soft sound of ambient music. It did not sound nearly as good when it was just a recording. Sadly, neither Siena nor Undine had desired to continue after their performance.

“I’ve visited Abraham’s monument while you were on vacation,” Emrik broke the silence.

John raised his tea cup and took in the delectable aroma. “I see,” he responded simply and sipped on the delicious liquid. “Do you know why I chose to move against Abraham in the way I did?”

Emrik shook his head.

“Because he was a bad ruler,” John stated firmly. “No, let me rephrase that. He was good at ruling. He knew how to retain control, how to keep his supporters happy and his opponents from rising in profile. He was a bad leader. He was hypocritical and self-assured. He bent or ignored rules when it worked for him.” The Gamer put his half-empty cup down and stared hard at Emrik. “I struggled immensely with the choice to cross him like I did.”

“Yet you did it.”

“Yet I did it and would again.” John stared at his reflection in the cup. “How do you think the world will remember Abraham?”

“A patriot that died defending you,” Emrik stated.

John let hear a grim chuckle. “To this day, I haven’t worked out what went through Abraham’s head when he threw himself in front of me. Was he protecting me? Why? Or did he just try to protect the White House?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. For that final act, I recognize anyone who would want to treat him as a saint. Ironically, the mundane president of the same name was who inspired me to take action. They were both severely more flawed than popular history will remember.”

“I’m kinda out of the loop ‘ere,” Hailey whispered to Nightingale, who gestured her to come over so she could be caught up on what they were discussing.

Emrik turned the cup of tea, seemingly having no intention whatsoever to drink it. “You are better than Lakamun.” John was taken aback by what was almost a compliment. “It was time that turned our ruling demigod into a tyrant. The nation was dragged around by the whims of someone who could not be opposed. Then, we were free. Only for the rest of the leadership to decide we should put ourselves in the service of someone else, someone even more powerful.” The porcelain clacked on the saucer. Tea threatened to spill over the gold-rimmed edge of the cup. “I have a good read on people. Do you agree?”

“I believe you use your Innate Ability effectively,” John responded. Emrik stared at him, forcing John to elaborate. “Considering how well you choose your allies…” he nodded at the other two politicians, “…and the handle you have on people that are stronger than you, I can admit that you have charisma and that you know how to convince people to follow you. You’re a good leader, that necessarily means you’re a good judge of character.”

“You’ll be a king, John Newman.”

John clenched his jaw. It was only the first muscle in his body that went rigid. He almost didn’t sit in the chair anymore, hovered more over the seat, so complete was the tension in his legs. “Why do you believe that?”

“It’s written in every facet of your behaviour,” Emrik stated. “The pride, the need to be in control – I don’t know what will set it off, only that in a life as long as yours, something will. Even now, you just play pretend. You call yourself president, but from whom do you take your legitimacy, really?”

“…The people.”

Emrik closed his eyes and shook his head, ever so slightly. “You’re not mundane anymore, John Newman.” The Speaker got up and stretched. The middle-aged, dark-haired man appeared to be thoroughly tired. “Thank you for the invitation, Lady Nightingale. I’ll likely oblige the next one. Hailey, a pleasure to meet you. Mister President,” he bowed his head in goodbye.

“Wait,” John shouted, before Emrik could open the door. “If… IF I ever want the crown. You will have to be the one to place it on my head. You understand that?”

Emrik turned his head, the pleasant surprise written over his features. Something approximating a laugh escaped the stoic man. “How cruel.” Those two words were all he produced, before leaving the room.

Rubbing his forehead, John almost forgot where he was for a little while. ‘From ancient weapons to my political rivals, everyone seems convinced I’ll take absolute power one day.’ The frustration about this sat deeply. Was it just pre-ordained or was everyone wrong? “Sorry, the discussions excluded you two,” the Gamer finally spoke up again, looking at the two politicians. “Could I ask of you two to keep this conversation secret?”

“My party won’t be happy about it, but I will.” As it so happened, one of the two was the member of the Crowning Party that Nightingale had mentioned earlier that day. “If I may, why-… No, nevermind,” he started a question, but shook his head. “I believe we should take our leave here as well. It’s been a long night.”

“I’ll not gossip about this,” the other politician said, after nodding to his colleague. “I’d rather be invited to one of these again.”

“Contents of these gatherings should be kept partly confidential,” Nightingale encouraged with a soft smile. “Thank you for the civility. The next tea party will be organized soon. If you wish, I could teleport you back to the Hudson Barrier?”

“That would save us an hour.”

Nightingale gave John a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back shortly,” she assured him, before leaving him and Hailey alone in the chamber.

“Ya good, John?” the country gal asked. Invitingly, she tapped her thighs. With a long sigh, he laid down, stretching his body across three chairs. The warmth of her bare legs made that entirely worth it. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“I don’t even know anymore,” John just groaned. “Doesn’t it bother you, that someone could have authority derived from just having the power to hold it?”

“Ya heard what I said: as long as I trust the person’n charge, it doesn’t matter that much what the system is.” She caressed his hair. “As an American, a king is revoltin’. I’ve read enough of history to know English parliament wasn’t innocent either.” She bowed down as much as she could without her breasts blocking the line between their eyes. Her quiet drawl smoothed the storm inside his mind. “Just take life as it comes. I wanna make some memories with you. I’m so late to this party.”

John hummed. “Yeah, I should concern myself more with you.” He raised his head until he found her lips.

History would be written, but the little moments with her were his alone.