Novikovian Home Office
Zvolen, Novikov
“The Undersecretary will see you now.”
A slender, raven-haired woman smiled softly, watching as five men rose from their seats, adjusting the lapels of their high-breasted suit coats. Their stiff, drab black suits looked coarse and decidedly behind-the-times, giving the men a provincial look, like some unimportant rural politicians. While they collected their briefcases, or hastily finished cigarettes, a few words were exchanged. To most ears, the hushed voices would have been no more than murmurs, but Ms. Karpaiskaya, a skilled interpreter and personal aide to Undersecretary of State Yefretorov, recognized their speech as some form of Novojénsk. For a moment she wondered if they were Czechzens, glancing down at her clipboard, but their names were unfamiliar and there were no accompanying notes as to the cause for their meeting. An instant later, she became aware of their eyes on her, briefcases and papers in hand, anxiously awaiting their audience with a member of the Oceanian Government. With another pleasant smile she turned, motioning them forward.
“If you will follow me right this way…”
The group was led down a narrow hallway, Ms. Karpinskaya’s heels clicking on the finely polished wooden floor. At the end of the hall, she stopped, lightly knocking before opening the door to the Undersecretary’s personal office. Standing aside, she pointed the men through.
One by one they filed past, into the office. Inside, they found the young Undersecretary standing behind his heavily-built red pine desk. As the last man crowded into the small room, they could hear his assistant’s footsteps disappear back down the hall, leaving them in relative privacy. For a moment, no one spoke, the visitors glancing tersely at each other, unsure how to begin. Finally, the Undersecretary spoke.
“I am glad you have come. Gentlemen, how can I help you?”
A tall man stepped forward from the crowd, extending a leathery hand as he introduced himself in thickly accented Czech. “My name is Mstislav Bielobogov. Perhaps you have heard of me?”
Across the desk, Undersecretary Yefretorov’s eyes widened with recognition. Bielobogov was a name which all Novikovians recognized. Everyone knew of St. Gennady of Oslany and his death at the hands of the pagan King Bielobog in the 16th Century, and of his descendants’ defeat of the Novikovian “White Crusade” of 1763. For five hundred years, the name had been synonymous with Bielostrov, an isolated and backwards nation to Novikov’s north – one of the last holdouts of Paganism against the Orthodox Church. To this day, the Bielobogov family dominated their small island nation as both its political and religious leaders. Mstislav was himself an important member of the King’s Council.
After a moment, Yefretorov regained his composure. In fluent Novojénsk, although of the Novikovian dialect, he returned the introduction. “Slavny Bieli, Counselor Bielobogov! I must say I am surprised to meet you here. I believe the name I was given was Pan Alakaev.”
The tall man smiled, leaning in close. “It was a convenient name. I wished this meet to be as discrete as possible. You see, this is not an official visit.”
Yefretorov withdrew his hand, frowning in thought while he sized up the visitor and his purpose. “A personal visit then? Surely no Novikovian has been so fortunate.”
This brought a polite chuckle from Counselor Bielobogov, but his face remained stern and serious. “It is true, our people have had their differences. In a way, this is what I have come to speak to you about. I have a proposal for you.”
He nodded, and one of the other men closed the door to the office. All five crowded around the desk. Intrigued by the conspiratorial air, Yefretorov leaned in to hear the Counselor whisper.
“We wish to give you Bielostrov…”
For half an hour the five men spoke. Bielostrov was in turmoil, they claimed. The economy – never strong – was faltering and the people lived in abject poverty. The nation’s rigid social structure which bound the lower classes to the village, or mir, had for generations been breeding unrest against the monarchy’s taxes and appropriations, and against noble privilege. The state was inefficient and corrupt, scarcely able to provide electricity or an education to half its people. Many of these facts Yefretorov knew to be true from his periodic briefings on his country’s northern neighbor.
Bielobogov claimed to represent a sizable faction within his government which was convinced that the current monarch was incapable of meeting these challenges. He was isolated from the people and blind to their suffering. Furthermore, he was a staunch traditionalist, and opposed to all manner of foreign influence – particularly by Novikov, which he viewed as the traditional enemy of his people. This self imposed isolation was a burden on the nation, and prevented Bielostrov from modernizing, leaving the nation poor and defenseless. The monarch, Counselor Bielobogov’s own nephew Jaromir VII, had to be disposed in order to save Bielostrov from ruin.
Bielobogov knew that a union with her Slavic neighbors had always been a dream for Novikov – indeed this was one of the platforms of the Novikovian Nationalist Party (NNSP), a member of Novikov’s ruling coalition in Parliament. This is why he wished to enlist Novikovian help in saving his country. He was not like the young King Jaromir VII, he explained. He could see past the historic conflicts and religious differences. Joining with Novikov meant security, modernization, and liberalization for his country.
For this reason, Bielobogov had come to request Novikovian support, and possibly Novikovian troops, to help him overthrow the monarchy. If the Novikovian Government provided him with such support, he promised to bind Bielostrov to the Novikov’s federal system along the same model a Czechzenia. He would allow for Novikovian military bases in the region – long coveted because of their strategic position along the northerly shipping lanes – open Bielostrov’s markets to Novikovian goods, and provide tax revenue as any other province.
To show his seriousness, he presented Yefretorov with an outline of his proposal, signed by Bielobogov himself, as well as several other regional officials. He also provided the Novikovians with a signed list of what he claimed were 1.500 members of the bureaucracy, military, and intelligentsia who would support such an overthrow. He promised popular support, and a quick coup, if only he were given enough support. Didn’t Yefretorov see how much both their countries stood to gain from such an agreement?
Through all of this, Yefretorov remained mostly silent. He was not sure if he trusted Bielobogov, although he did admire the frankness of the proposal. Still, it was an interesting offer. He accepted the documents, promising to keep them safe, and thanked the men for their time, suggesting that they might meet again after he had time to speak with the Premier. Reluctantly, the five men were show to the door. They were unaccustomed to the politics of a democracy, and apparently had hoped for an immediate answer. Still, after a gracious round of thanks, the delegation filed out of the office and left, promising to return in a week’s time.
As soon as he was alone again, Undersecretary Yefretorov closed the door of his office and began to hurriedly call his superiors and various other contacts within the Novikovian and Oceanian governments. Afterall, it was an interesting proposal.
[OOC: Sleepy. Writer's block. Here's the first part for ya, Lamoni. The rest will be up tomorrow morning. I gotta sleep first.]
: I FOUND ANOTHER TYPO! AHHHHHHH!
