Omake: The Darkness within Slawkenberg
The masses of Slawkenberg believed that the government was unified under one purpose, one goal. Nothing could be further from the truth. In reality, it was a nasty, vicious, and brutal business that few could stomach or scarcely imagine. The sadistic Handmaidens and the bloodthirsty brutes of the USA would not have their way this time. This time, the tax surplus would go to the Administration.
Albet scanned his five counterparts in the room. Gripping his infrastructure portfolio tightly, he took his seat. Inside the portfolio were various projects collated by the different branches of the administration: new schools, bridges, ports, programs, and everything else in between. Creating this portfolio was a battle in and of itself. Friends were paid off with their projects, enemies were mollified or suborned, and colleagues all had an input. The needs of the administration were carefully balanced with what would actually pass muster with the rest of the council. Through careful jockeying and cashing in favors, Albet had gotten himself selected as the administration's representative. If he failed, his career would effectively be over. But if the administration had its way, Albet was sure to be Jafar's fifth right-hand man, with his own parking space next to the Ziggurat. Oh, just the parking space alone would give him unparalleled leverage.
His first counterpart was from the sanitation guild, faceless as always. The guild always got first pick of any surplus, for the sewage must always be cleansed. It wasn't often, but sometimes the guild would claim a portion of the surplus, and rarer still, claim all of it. If that happened, there would be nothing Albet could do. The administration would know that and give him a second chance the following year. Fortunately, the guild representative had already gotten up and left. Now the real games would begin.
Next was a colonel in the USA. The USA, much like their patron god, was direct and brutal in their approach. "Slawkenberg has enemies, and we need weapons and soldiers to fight them." As always, it was an uncreative approach, but Albet couldn't underestimate its effectiveness.
Then there was the Handmaiden—unusually, a male this time. The Handmaidens continually advocated giving back the surplus to the people, a portion of which would inevitably return to their coffers with their many leisure and entertainment businesses. Sadists, the whole lot of them. If there was any fat, perceived or otherwise, in any proposals by the other council members, the Handmaidens took great relish in slicing it out. Making the tax code more efficient and streamlined only got the administration so far. Carving out the tax rate, fraction by fraction, of a percent at a time, with their cruel knives. Already, the total tax burden, including indirect taxes, of the median Slawkenbergian was 67.4% of their income, and the Handmaidens didn't seem intent on ever stopping their relentless chipping away at that number.
The Borgs were the next to be considered. The Borgs always had an enigmatic facade. Their interests lay in furthering the technology and knowledge of Slawkenberg, but in what form that took was anyone's guess. Sometimes it was in schools, sometimes in universities, and sometimes in technology. They were a useful ally and a dangerous enemy. True, the administration didn't always need the Borg's support to get its way, but it was always easier with them on their side. Albet reassuringly patted his portfolio. There were some projects there sure to win the Borgs' support, but would it be enough?
Lastly was the newest member of the council, a priest from the Emperor's church. This was their first time being represented on the Tax Council. Albet didn't know what to expect, as part of his job today was to divine the church's intent. But like the others before him, they were, at best, temporary allies.
It was time for the meeting to begin, for it would be a day of villainy of the worst kind. The darkness in the heart of Slawkenberg must be kept secret from its citizens.
Their hearts would not bear to take it.