"The exodus continues, Mr. President," said Bleda.
"Very good, Mabus, very good. Mongolia is profiting greatly from the downfall of China. Our fields that once lay fallow are being farmed again. Few are hungry now," replied the president
Oosan Toghril nodded. He was a handsome, clean-shaven man who had been very popular in the polls. Though he had won by a landslide it had all been through blowing hot air. He had no real positions on anything, he just sat on the fence and always allowed things to happen. By never making a stand he never annoyed anybody. He was not a smart man.
Mabus Bleda, on the other hand, was a small, almost weaselly, and very cunning man. He was average-looking but had such a prominent personality people seemed to automatically trust him (or distrust him, but that was rarer and only in the very intelligent). Bleda was almost blind, in fact he had to wear a pair of thick spectacles just to see a few feet in front of him. He was a very brilliant man, and he knew the ins and outs of politics, though he had never run for office himself.
They were discussing, as they periodically did, the effects that China’s collapse was having on Mongolia. China had leapt into the abyss of ruined empires, as all the major communist countries had done. Bleda had been slowly developing a theory that communism would lead to good things on a tiny scale, but on a large scale only democracy or monarchy could survive.
But China had fallen. The Chinese people no longer wanted to be Chinese. On a grand scale they had decided to become Mongolian. And so literally millions of Chinese farmers and workers had packed up their families and headed west over the Mongolian border, where everything was bright and sunny. The communists were too weak to stop them. Toghril had allowed them to come and greeted them with open arms and a warm smile.
Bleda knew that there were ways of using such large numbers of people. But Bleda was only President Toghril's aide. He had no real political power but he did have the president's ear. And the president's ears were currently closed.
The Chinese Exodus had begun quite a while ago. Already so many hundreds of thousands of Chinese were Mongolian citizens and had adopted Mongolian ways. If the Chinese Exodus were allowed to continue unabated, Mongolia would go under the same way China had, in economic ruin. So many people required work on a grand scale, and Mongolia was running out of jobs fast.
Unless, of course, if the army was brought to attack standards. The Mongolian army hadn't been a strong force in literally hundreds of years. Now they stood with the chance to galvanize their army into a force to be reckoned with. Toghril sat on his hands like a little child.
Bleda felt a genuine woe for the dislocated Chinese. They had been wronged, and they had come to Mongolia for help. If too many of them came, though, conditions would be worse in Mongolia than they had been in China. Bleda wanted to help those he could. Jobs could be found in the military, military support, and logistics.
"You won't have the borders closed, then, Mr. President?"
"Certainly not. Mongolia's population had been waning before and now we're growing strong again. We need to institute programs to teach these immigrants to speak Mongolian and to practice Mongolian customs. If we don't, the Mongolian native population will be overwhelmed."
Bleda honestly agreed with Toghril on that point. But so many of the Chinese had already turned Mongolian.
"Incidentally sir, have you heard about the Americans?"
"What about them, Mabus?"
"The Rape of Washington?"
Bleda sighed. Toghril was was so poorly informed about everything.
"Seems that the American government has been wiped out."
"Ah, you mean the president was assassinated?"
"As well as congress and the rest of it. The whole government."
"Ah. I wonder how this will affect us."
Toghril sat pondering the problem for a moment.
"I believe I can offer an answer, sir."
Bleda whistled and several armed guards entered the room. They were actually mercenaries working for Bleda, but Toghril considered them loyal.
"This will affect Mongolia," said Bleda, carefully savoring each word, "In that the republic will be replaced with an empire."
Bleda motioned to the mercenaries. They pointed guns at the president.
"What is this?" Toghril cried out.
Bleda shook his head.
"A fool even to the end, Mr. President. You've been ousted. Lock him away."
"What is this, Mabus?" demanded Toghril again, as they led him out of the room.
"Don't you call me Mabus any more, Oosan. It's Bleda Khan now," he said quietly as the former president was dragged away.
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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