OR1-EP4: Prelude to the Millennium (9)
"Slow down!"
The old butler standing in the center of the hall commanded the workers to move the crate outside the door in a chirpy manner, while several other workers were sorting out the contents of another crate. Governor-general Jacob Herzog, dressed in a warm coat, wandered around the yard, picking up scissors from time to time to repair the flowers and plants in the yard. He had many hobbies, and he also believed that everyone had special pleasures other than their own work. If people were given a chance to purely pursue their inner ideals without having to think about their livelihoods, he thought that there would be many people who would create more spiritual food for the spiritual world of mankind.
"Your Excellency, the expert we hired has arrived." The butler came to the Governor's side, "Also, that McNeil said that he's coming over to talk to you about something important today."
"What is it?" The Governor-general could not hear the slightest fluctuation of emotions in his tone. He carefully pruned the branches, the sharp scissors in his hands cutting the fragile plants. To the owner of this yard, the value of these plants' existence was to produce flowers for people to enjoy, and if they failed to do so, they were veritable trash. Governor-general Herzog has an even bigger pair of scissors, and that is the power that EU has given him. The scissors in his hands, no matter how sharp they were, could only be used to cut some objects, while that invisible scissors could directly or indirectly affect the fate of countless people.
The butler wanted to speak; he didn't want to disturb the Governor's mood.
"Go ahead, maybe I'll take the initiative to find him in a few days."
"He wants to talk to you about the turmoil happening in the north." The butler coughed a few times, as if a thick layer of dust had immediately covered his straight suit, "What should I answer him, you see?"
"Let him wait." The Governor-general brushed off the comment and left the yard straight to the front door to greet the expert he had brought in. The Herzog family, formerly nobles who had fled from the Britannian Empire during the Civil War, had shed their original family name, and used the new family name of Herzog (meaning Duke), integrating themselves into South African society. The absence of nobility in the EU did not prevent the powerful families from putting on a show by any means necessary. Since the Herzog family was a legitimate noble, it was only natural that they should not lag behind in this item.
Governor-general Herzog invited professors from well-known universities in South Africa, who were very good at archeology - especially archeology related to the East. If even these old guys could look the other way, then McNeil was definitely the world's number one master counterfeiter.
"Greetings, Your Excellency." The expert in the lead shook hands with the Governor-general, "I think you've been very lucky recently ... to get so many antiques."
"A friend gave them to me." Governor-general Herzog smiled, "I wouldn't spend money on an auction house to buy these things, I'd rather pay to invest in an arsenal."
The professors nodded and stopped asking about the origin of these antiques. Even if Governor-general Herzog had sent people to rob tombs or loot or steal from other museums, it didn't have anything to do with them, and they weren't obligated to risk their lives. The Governor-general had given them a large sum of money, and who wouldn't want to make extra money for nothing?
The old professors came inside the hall, and they caught a glimpse of the oversized vase that was being carried out of the packing box by the workers. The age of its production could be judged from the seal writing in the pattern on the vase, and this vase was older than either the Britannian Empire or the EU. After all, whether it was the EU or the Britannian Empire, both of them had been founded less than 200 years ago. Perhaps because of inferiority complexes, or perhaps to equally destroy the history of others, the EU and the Britannian Empire had come to a surprising consensus on the point of plundering the heritage of other civilizations.
Jacob Herzog had never been to Asia, and he didn't like Siberia. To EU citizens, being sent to Siberia was no different than exile, and the officers of the Defense Forces viewed going to Siberia as breaking their careers. It was a lifeless wasteland, a frozen hell on earth, and that was the only image Governor-general Herzog had of Asia. He shuddered to think why a civilization far more prosperous than the West's could be born in the East (despite the twilight of the Chinee Federation), and as a qualified EU citizen, he felt the need to maintain a certain amount of humility in the presence of the powerful.
"... This is something from the years of Tianzi Yongchang." The old professor said in surprise.
"... What's so special about it?" Governor-general Herzog, who didn't study history at all, completely didn't understand why the other party was so excited.
"Your Excellency, Tianzi Yongchang was a man who lived a very simple life." The professor with the least amount of white hair stood up and gave a reasonable reply, "It is said that when he was a commoner back then, he nearly lost his life due to unemployment. After he became emperor, he once ordered a ban on the manufacture of such things that are more decorative than practical."
"I see, that means it's a rare product." Governor-general Herzog clapped his hands proudly, "Very well, it is qualified to be a vase in my house."
After saying that, the Governor-general asked the workers waiting at the side to move the vase away. However, the figure that appeared beside these workers made the Governor-general freeze. Michael McNeil, who had inexplicably appeared here, rolled up his sleeves and lifted the vase with the other workers. Seconds later, the panting butler ran in from outside, shouting uncontrollably:
"Master, I failed to stop him-"
"Never mind, a guest is a guest when he comes."
McNeil and the workers placed the vase in a corner, then patted off the dust and turned toward Governor-general Herzog. He had been waiting outside for a long time, and when he saw that Governor-general Herzog didn't want to see him at all, he took it upon himself to break through the barricade and go straight to the Governor-general himself. He believed that Governor-general Herzog was a decent man who abided by the rules, and that as long as McNeil met with the Governor-general, there was no reason for the Governor-general to kick him out in plain sight.
Sure enough, not only did the Governor-general not get angry, but he introduced McNeil with a smile on his face to the three professors who were staring at him in disbelief:
"He is that friend of mine, these antiques are all brought back by him from abroad."
McNeil was greatly embarrassed; this time he became the authentic heritage dealer. Looking at these three old professors who surrounded themselves and asked questions all the time, McNeil only felt a headache. What did he know about artifacts? Although he had gotten some information about this batch of artifacts from Duke of Breisgau's drunken friends, he was ultimately an outsider. After easily getting rid of the experts, McNeil staggered towards the Governor-general, who was watching from the sidelines, intending to talk to him about the chaos in the north.
The Governor-general handed McNeil a cup of black tea and he himself raised his coffee-filled mug.
"I don't have the heart for bad news, there's enough bad news already." Governor-general Herzog gazed at McNeil over his black-rimmed glasses, "There's no need to report such things to me ... that way we're just wasting time."
"I don't know if you are preparing for some grand plan or if you never intended to take control of the situation from the start." McNeil stated his thoughts bluntly. He desperately needed instructions from the Governor-general himself so that he could do what he could to eliminate the chaos under the Governor's banner. South Africa was Herzog's home, and no one would want to deliberately destroy their home.
The Governor-general set down his bottomed cup of tea, confusion in his slightly narrowed eyes.
"Mr. McNeil, we are not capable of handling so many enemies at once." The Governor-general replied, "I want to make sure that a portion of the enemy stays put for the time being or at least does not have the ability to threaten us immediately. Just last night, I received secret communications that strengthened my opinion that those African Britannians, my dear compatriots, they are the real scourge of South Africa. In order to be able to concentrate all my forces on destroying these vermin, who are endangering the United Republics, I have to find a way to make sure that those corporeal lords of Paris and those local natives who are causing so much trouble don't have a chance to make waves."
McNeil's heart rippled within him. He had always thought that Governor-general Herzog represented the African Britannians of South Africa, but the Governor's party's remarks had disproved that view. Herzog's only supporters in the political arena were his compatriots, and if he tried to use this opportunity to win the favor of the natives, he feared that he would end up losing both his money and his family.
The Governor-general took a package from a cardboard box at his side and laboriously unwrapped it to reveal the stamps inside.
"They said that if I remained firmly on their side, they would make me the head of the newly created Autonomous Republic of African Britannia." The Governor-general grinned, "Bunch of idiots. I'm already the EU-appointed Governor-general of South Africa, why do I need them to give me power?"
"Your Excellency, if Paris allows the African Britannians to establish an autonomous republic, there is a good chance that they will choose to break away from the United Republics and turn to the Britannian Empire." McNeil hoofed out his speculation, which was the conclusion he had come to after a long period of observation and summarization of the African Britannians' society. The African Britannians would always harbor a special affection for the Britannian Empire, and if they were indeed granted full autonomy, McNeil was sure that they would soon declare the annexation of the autonomous region to the Empire.
The Governor-general picked up the stamp from the table and tenderly scrutinized the design on it.
"Do you recognize the Chinese characters?" Governor-general Herzog asked abruptly without thinking.
"No."
"Neither do I." The Governor-general put the stamp in front of McNeil s eyes, "They said that this is the stamp of the 13th year of Tianzi Kixiang, and it is ... out of print now? I don't know, anyway, they say so, then I'll assume it's true."
Governor-general Herzog picked up the scissors and carefully cut off one of the four stamps, then put it into a transparent box that had already been prepared aside. He looked at the remaining three with slight regret and called to the faithful old butler.
"Burn them all."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
McNeil was too shocked to speak as Governor-general Herzog ordered the destruction of valuable treasures right before his eyes. It wasn't just a matter of money; the existence of these artifacts was proof of an era's past, and future generations would have to rely on them to deduce the true history.
"Now, maybe this is the last one in the world." The Governor-general held up the box like a child who had gotten a toy or a treat, "What I can get my hands on will always be mine, and I will never let anyone else get the exact same one."
It was then that the Governor-general remembered that McNeil was still with him and he asked with a slight apology:
"Where were we?"
"... Someone has made you an offer and is trying to persuade you to defect." McNeil pinched a cold sweat.
"Right. Now that they're no longer hiding what they're up to, we'll have to do it quickly. When the outside world learned that I was cleaning up the natives on my reservation in the north, the little youths with an excess of mercy only cursed me; by the time the Britannians came to pummel them with swords, guns, and clubs, all they could do was beg for my patronage."
This was true. Governor-general Herzog had claimed to protect the legitimate rights of the natives, and then had inflamed the conflict between the citizens, and the relatively weaker side had no choice but to choose to support the Governor. Those people were not capable of resisting both the Governor-general and another group of unsuspecting armed citizens; the African Britannians had developed their skills in a long struggle with the natives.
But it was not enough to have the support of the citizens - who, moreover, were only temporarily supporting the Governor-general out of fear - and the turmoil in the army was another pressing problem for South Africa. Already there were rumors of mutiny within the Guardian Corp, which the Guardian Corp General Command claimed were rumors. If even the Guardian Corp and defense forces used to restore order were unreliable, Governor-general Herzog was unlikely to defeat his countrymen who were determined to be tough to the end.
"Their joy is so simple." The Governor-general looked at the smiling old professors, "The sight of a rag can make them happy for most of the day."
"Maybe that's just the way people are."
"I don't see it that way, people have to learn to scramble and plunder from birth, otherwise they won't survive." The Governor-general propped up his black-rimmed glasses, "You have to learn to make a scene in front of others before they will take you seriously. In a few days, I plan to go to Paris and meet the rabble-rousers with bad intentions."
He held out his right hand and pointed at McNeil.
"And you, come with me. You've never been to Paris, have you? I hear you're looking for lodgings for that old man who sells newspapers, and I'll give you time to get the thing over with when we get to Paris."
"How did you know that?" McNeil was a little embarrassed.
"I have my sources-believe me, I mean you no harm, or you'd be dead already." The Governor-general spoke without changing his face to intimidate McNeil, "Of course, I'm not taking you on a trip for nothing. You'll have to do a few things for me once we get to Paris before I do." Seeing the resistance on McNeil's face, the Governor-general hastened to reassure him, "It's all small things, not for you to go sightseeing into hell like Aeneas."
McNeil's intuition told him that Governor-general Herzog was hatching a huge plot. However, the wily Governor-general did not reveal anything, and he reluctantly decided to accept the governor's invitation. As a token of his appreciation, the Governor-general gave McNeil a small alabaster sculpture of a human figure.
TBC
Chapter Notes:
The EU seems to be very fearful of military interference in politics.
Tianzi Yǒngchāng (永昌), whose prototype is apparently Lǐ Zìchéng(李自成), the leader of the Great Shun dynasty (大順) in China at the end of the Ming Dynasty. Also, no manchu monarchy in the history of Chinese Federation.