"We didn't 'set up' those idiot rules, Frank," Mike said mildly. "We grudgingly agreed to them in the course of a three-way compromise between us and Wettin and the emperor- with the understanding that if we won the election one of the things we'd be pushing for was broadening the Senate and making it more democratic."
The USE's Senate was a peculiar institution, as things presently stood. Something of a cross between a "senate" as normally understood-by Americans, at any rate-and a House of Lords. Each province and imperial city got one seat in the Senate, but the seat had to be taken by whoever was that province or city's "head of state." That meant, for instance, that Ed Piazza sat in the national Senate by virtue of having been elected president of the State of Thuringia-Franconia. But, of course, since most of the provincial heads of state in the USE were hereditary positions, that meant the Senate was a heavily aristocratic institution.
Just to add the icing to the cake-and the cherry-there was the charming twist that Gustav II Adolf, in addition to being the emperor of the United States of Europe, was also two of its senators. Two, not one. He was officially the heads of state of both Pomerania and Mecklenburg, having appointed himself the duke of both provinces when he conquered them.
"As for Otto," Mike continued, "in some ways, he is pretty stodgy. All other things being equal, he'd normally be more inclined toward the Crown Loyalists. But all thing are not equal, not even close. First and foremost, Otto's an architect and he positively adores this city, now that Gustav Adolf gave him free rein to build it up as he likes."
"So?"
Francisco and Mike chuckled simultaneously. "Hell, figure it out, Frank. Magdeburg was sacked less than five years ago. It was only rebuilt this quickly because of us. And who do you think Otto has the most confidence will keep it from being sacked again? Us-or that feckless pack of squabbling noblemen and guildmasters around Wilhelm Wettin? The same people who didn't do squat to protect the city last time around."
Mike swiveled his chair and hazed out the window. "Have you given any thought to your own situation, after the election, Francisco?"
"Yes, of course." Nasi hesitated, then chuckled. "Amazingly, though-I am hardly what you'd call indecisive, as a rule-I haven't been able to come to any conclusions."
Mike smiled, still looking out the window. "Hard to give it up, isn't it?"
"Excuse me?"
"Power. Influence." Stearns waggled his hand. "And-at least for people like you and me-I think what's probably even harder is giving up the game itself."
He swiveled his chair around. "Fortunately, however, the game itself is one thing the loser in an election does not have to concede. Keep in mind, though, that all this may be irrelevant in your case. Wilhelm may want to keep you on in your current position."
Francisco shook his head. "You don't really believe that. I certainly don't. And it doesn't matter, in any event. Even if Wettin offered to retain me in my current post, I would decline."
"Why?"
Nasi looked at Stearns squarely. "It is perhaps finally time to say this aloud. I have become quite loyal to you, Michael. Even to your political program, although most of my allegiance is personal. I would find it difficult-impossible, really-to serve Wilhelm Wettin in this same capacity. I don't dislike the man. I don't even distrust him, within limits. He's simply… not you."
Jackson grinned. "He has that effect on people, doesn't he?" He hooked a thumb at Stearns. "It's why I soldiered on as his secretary-treasurer after he got elected president of our mine local."
"Well, thanks," Mike said. "But you don't need to feel any obligation, Francisco."
Nasi laughed. " 'Obligation' is not really the word. The truth is, I enjoy working for you. First, because I've discovered that I am quite good at this work. Secondly, because I've eventually concluded- quite to my surprise-that I think the work itself is worth doing. No small leap of faith, that, I assure you. Not for a man like me, raised in the environs of the Ottoman court."
Mike smiled. "It must have been a switch, going from a prospective courtier in the Turkish empire to the spymaster of a rabble-rouser."
"Yes. On the other hand, it's a lot less dangerous."
Jackson looked startled. "Since when is being a rabble-rouser less dangerous than being part of the establishment?"
"When the establishment in question is that of Istanbul, a lot safer," said Nasi. "I hate to think what percentage of the sultan's advisers wind up at the bottom of the sea with a garrote around their neck. The odds of surviving are no better than our odds in the upcoming election-and no one expects us to actually lose our heads as a result."
"No-but it's not a possibility to overlook, either," said Mike. "In this day and age, politics is very much a contact sport. About the only difference here in the USE is that we wear gloves. It can still get very rough."
He sat erect and leaned over the desk, planting his hands in front of him. "Francisco, I think we need to give some consideration to your safety. After the election, I mean, when you're back to being a private citizen."
It was Nasi's turn to look startled. He hadn't really considered that matter, he realized.
"You've made enemies in your position," Mike continued. "And what's worse, some of them are not what you'd call casual enemies."
"Well… yes. But so have you, Michael." He nodded at Jackson. "Even Frank, for that matter."
Jackson snorted. "Big deal. I'm in the army. I've got soldiers around me every day. Very well armed soldiers. As for Mike…"
He snorted again. "First, as long as he stays in Magdeburg, he's got Gunther Achterhof's CoC people watching over him. You know what they're like."
Gunther Achterhof was perhaps the most ruthless of all the CoC leaders-which was saying something, in an organization that had Gretchen Richter as one of its leaders. He more or less ran the Committee of Correspondence in the USE's capital city, and he had what you might call "pro-active" notions when it came to security issues. That there were enemies spies in Magdeburg, no one doubted. What no one also doubted was that those spies worked very, very, very carefully-and stayed well away from any activities which the city's CoC might perceive as a direct threat to its people or those they supported.
Mike stirred in his chair. "I probably won't be staying in Magdeburg, though. I'm almost certain, by now, that once I lose the election Gustav Adolf is going to ask me to become a general in the army."
Frank shook his head. "That still seems just plain nuts to me. Meaning no offense, old buddy, but you've got as many qualifications to be an army general as I do to be a brain surgeon. Zip. You served exactly three years in the army, back up-time-as a grunt. That's it."
But Nasi agreed with Mike's estimate. "It doesn't matter, Frank. You even have the same tradition in your own history, if you go back far enough."
"Huh?"
Francisco still found it amazing how many Americans-even otherwise intelligent ones like Jackson, holding important positions-knew practically nothing even of their own nation's history. Much less the history of the rest of the world.
Mike provided the explanation. "In the twentieth century, generals in the American army were almost all professional soldiers. But if you go back to the Civil War, Frank, you'll find that Abe Lincoln appointed lots of civilians to generalships. In some cases, men with no military experience at all. The most famous is probably Ben Butler. He had a post as an officer in one of the state militias, but that didn't mean squat in military terms. He just got the post because he was a prominent politician. When the war started, Lincoln made him a major general in the U.S. Army."
"In God's name, why?"
Mike shrugged. "Pretty much the same reason that Gustav Adolf is going to offer me a position as general. Ben Butler was a very prominent Democrat, but one who stuck with the North when the South seceded. He supported Lincoln's prosecution of the war. So Lincoln made him a general."