Chapter 1 - The Incumbent

Milves Aves

"...And today, we deliver this country back to where it belongs - THE PEOPLE!" - hurrahs and cheers - "The Federation of Central Ticossia belongs to you all!"

A thunderous applause reverberated on the plaza in front of the majestic building from where the speech was held. The red kite Milvus stood on the large balcony of the presidential palace, high above the crowd, flanked by his vice president and his wife. Milvus had never seen so many people gathered together, and when he'd first set eyes on the plaza, he wondered if any predecessor had been able to attract such a number of spectators.

Milvus leaned into his microphone, and enthusiastically read the filler text his speechwriter had come up with. Milvus didn't care much for the substance - it was the reaction that mattered. He paused to let another wave of applause wash over him, and asked himself if the crowd would catch him if he jumped. His train of thought arrived at its logical destination - They could me carry me all the way through the city... He'd heard scientists claim that his kind could fly in prehistoric times, so he imagined soaring over the plaza. He halted his mental train as the applause died down.

"We as a nation hope for dependable allies, and neighbours who respect our boundaries. But for decades now, this has not been the reality. A spirit of animosity rules - and my suspicion is - while for us the Ticossian Protectorate is a faint memory, other nations still feel its presence. As I have oft repeated, my administration is not interested in rebuilding that empire, but we will act vigorously against foreign subterfuge!"

At this, the applause seemed a bit more subdued. Milvus admired the former continent-spanning realm that, a century ago, was governed from the palace that was now his new home. He was well aware that it was a polarizing topic; in public consciousness, the Protectorate was parts glory, and parts tyranny.

Talking about these things got me the job, Milvus assured himself.

He talked some more before finishing his speech - "Thank you, and know that we are blessed by the Gods!". He gave a final wave and turned to his wife, whom he kissed passionately. Holding hands, they walked back inside, tailed by the hartebeest vice president Morne Buselaphus.

"I don't think you were supposed to do that" chuckled Illa Aves.

"Kissing? What are they going to do, impeach me?" - Milvus looked over his shoulder to Morne - "Wouldn't you like that!?" he guffawed.

"I wouldn't put it past the reds and greens to go apeshit" - Illa winced at this word - "over that." said Morne. "They can make clear skies turn into an ape shitstorm". Illa winced again.

"You do know the interior minister is an ape, right?" Illa said.

"I know him well, he doesn't mind" responded Morne.

"But could you just... tone it down a bit with the raciness"?

"Come now, that's just how Morne talks. He doesn't mean anything by it" Milvus intervened. He liked Mornes off-colour style, but his wife always took issue with it.

The trio stood in a large, oakwood panelled, chamber, with tall double doors that connected it to the balcony and several corridors. Milvus noticed the majordomo looking at him expectantly, a fellow named Mr. Slibug. Milvus couldn't remember if Slibug had a first name, but he wasn't particularly interested in finding out. The possum, who was a few heads shorter than him, had given him and his wife a tour of the building the day before, which took them the entire day, and made Milvus feel like a tourist. The idea that he now lived in one of the most famous buildings in the world would probably remain unreal for a long time.

"So, what's next on the schedule?" Milvus asked Slibug.

"Nothing has been planned for today, sir. it is advised for new occupants to first acclimatize to their new surroundings. You shall be collected once the inaugural ceremony resumes." He turned to Illa. "Madam, your transport to Old Court is standing ready. I shall escort you." he said very correct.

"Very kind - I wouldn't know how to get out of this maze!" she laughed.

"Finding one's way in the palace can be daunting indeed. But you'll find there is structure in the seemingly random layout." To Milvus he said: "If sir requires a guide, I shall call upon one."

"No need," said Milvus, "you just showed me the place. I have a great memory".

Morne said: "Well, I'm off to my department. I have holdovers to boot and a place to fumigate. I'll see you at the luncheon tomorrow." He gave his goodbye's to Illa and left, with a sure tread that showed he knew his way around the palace.

Milvus waited until Morne was gone. Then he said to Illa: "Honey, you're doing that killer glare. I don't want to start looking for a new VP because your eyes shot daggers in my current one."

"I can't help it, Milv. He just rubs me the wrong way." said Illa. "Anyway, I'll be in Old Court 'till the end of the month, so don't worry about having to replace your VP just yet." she smiled.

Mr. and Mrs. Aves followed the majordomo to where the transport was waiting, moving through countless hallways and going down several flights of red-carpeted stairs. They arrived at a garage that looked like most other rooms they had come across; same panelling, tall doors and high roof. Milvus told his wife again of his sorrow that she had to return so quickly and that he would be lonely in her absence. Illa replied that he would probably be too busy to think of her. They embraced one last time, and then Illa entered the vehicle and departed.

Milvus and Slibug went back the way they had come. "I shall be in my office now, sir." said Slibug. "I am tasked with managing not only the palace, but also the government buildings on the plaza. This requi-"

"Didn't you say you have an apartment in the palace as well? What do you think of your living space?" Milvus cut in.

"That is correct. My quarters are small, but they suffice."

"I was thinking, my hotel is just a block away. If you want something else for a change, something bigger, I can give you the penthouse suite." Milvus did not like the idea of this little man, whom he was ambivalent about, living in the same building as him.

Slibug's face betrayed nothing. "That would be a breach of protocol. And the law prohibits me from taking another residence than the palace while I hold this function."

"Well, congress and I can have a little chat about that".

"I am much humbled sir would change a law for me, but it is really not necessary. The maintenance of the departments is a task that leaves little room for rest. I am almost always in my office."

"Alright then, I won't keep you" Milvus resigned, and before long he was alone.

He had met the palace staff early in the morning, but now they kept out of sight. Milvus understood that the building had many hidden passageways that were used by them, as if to pretend the building magically kept itself clean or documents materialized when needed. Milvus felt uncomfortable knowing that there could be someone eavesdropping in the wall. He walked to a nearby portrait of a past lawmaker, and looked carefully if the eyes were not secretly holes someone could look through. He felt a bit better when there were none to be discovered.

In six hours the ceremony would continue; a dinner with congress and a military parade was something Milvus looked forwards to. There he would be the centre of attention, the person other powerful people vied for to be noticed. Until then Milvus would have to keep himself occupied.

This was technically his first day in office. Some other presidents had used this time to call for meetings or issue decrees. Milvus viewed this as showmanship to show their diligence. It had been done before, so Milvus had nothing planned. No need to rush, he thought. Instead he took his time to explore the building further. Slibug's tour was a mixed - he had talked about some interesting history, but he frequently stopped at some insignificant object to bombard him with boring factoids about it. They had come across one artefact, however, that Milvus was very interested in, and he decided to go look for it.

He started walking in a direction - he believed it was the right way. A lot of the building seemed to consist of corridors and galleries. It was as if the rulers of the Federation were more preoccupied with creating a huge private museum than actually administering the country. The absence of any sound was noticeable to Milvus - strange, considering that right outside hundreds of thousands of people still milled about. There were also no guards to be seen, but the commander of his protection detail had guaranteed him the building was impenetrable. The guards would be on the roof, outside and in security rooms hidden in the building.

Milvus located the stairs and went up three stories, to the floor where he believed his objective was, and entered the room opposite of the landing. This was one of the bigger rooms in the building, dedicated to housing some very valuable objects. The far wall was lined with wide, arched, windows, and Milvus could see that the plaza was still packed, but the police were ushering people out of the square. It seemed easy for even a not-so-keen eye to spot Milvus through the wide windows, but Milvus reminded himself that the glass was very dark on the outside.

He surveyed the room, unsure if this was where he should be looking. In the middle of the room stood the Bakor Stele, which according to Slibug was one of the most important objects in the palace's collection. Slibug had perhaps expected that Milvus would be awed by the large stone cylinder, but to the majordomo's disappointment, Milvus had chosen the moment they stood in front of it to stifle a yawn.

Milvus took another good look at it, but still didn't understand what the fuss was about. Everyone knew the goat Bakor - the ancient conqueror who flourished a millennium-and-a-half ago, half a world away. Apparently he had a progressive side; according to Slibug the stele originated from Bakors capital, where it stood to remind his subjects that they were all equal. This stele was allegedly the first one that Bakor had made, and the only one that was found completely intact. That much Milvus got, but to his eyes it was still a big stone mass with rough carvings on it. Significance should be inferred from appearance.

He looked at the other items in the room and concluded that he was in the wrong spot. He ventured forth - he didn't know how long it took him or where he was, but he finally found the room he was looking for: a small chamber between two corridors. On one side was a narrow, arched window, looking out into an inner courtyard, and opposite of that, against the back wall, stood a showcase. In it lay a book, open at the middle. Milvus wanted to take it out, but the thick glass case was locked. He had been briefed on the exhibitions of the palace; they belonged to the state, not to the occupant of the building, and they had to be handled with great care. Milvus had quipped to Slibug that he was the state now, but unfortunately that didn't grant him access to the locked valuables. A team of special curators, commissioned by the Ministry of Culture, oversaw the artefacts and owned the keys. I need to tell the culture minister to loan me the book, thought Milvus. Wait... I still need to fill that position... I'll just make the job interview one question - the first one the answer positively is hired.

For the time being Milvus had to content himself with the two pages that were visible. At the very top of the yellowed right page the title could be seen: Fading Dreamland. This was the first edition, per Slibug, and as far as he knew, one of three remaining copies. The political-science book was penned by a Protectorate of Ticossia chancellor, some two centuries ago. It was also one of the first books to be banned when the Federation was founded. Book-banning to prevent the spread of certain ideas had been going strong ever since. Milvus had touched on the subject during his campaign; he wasn't a big reader (in fact, he only read tabloids for fun), but he wanted to exempt native books from this practice. He had first heard of Fading Dreamland from an interviewer, as an example of a dangerous book. Milvus' response was that he believed no book could be dangerous, but his interest was nevertheless piqued. A tome of political knowledge from his favorite era could be useful, and the fact that it was forbidden gave it extra allure.

The book was opened at the start of a new chapter. The richly decorated page on the left notified the reader that this was chapter 13 - On Affairs of the Convocation. Milvus read through the text. Some things he understood - the Convocation was an assembly that was held by the dominant faction of the Protectorate, that consisted exclusively of eagles. There they discussed all sorts of matters of state. Two things irked Milvus: the page ended when the author gave his unabashed opinion on the assembly - Lachrymosity overcomes me as a once august council has vitiated to the state of a raffish peanut gallery - and started going into giving advice how to manipulate these types of events. The other was the archaic language. "Why can't these people use normal words? damn pompous bastards." Milvus said aloud. He was wondering if he was still interested in obtaining the book, but he figured he could get some expert on "old timey lingo" to create a more readable version for him.

He fished his watch out of pocket and glanced at it - Four hours before they come pick me up? he thought, becoming acutely aware of the time wasted traversing the building. He went to find his way to his office, something that took him almost three quarters of an hour as he kept turning wrong corners. His office was situated on the right side of the building, at ground level, behind several rooms of workplaces for staffers. They were all empty now, but after tomorrow the offices would be bustling. A sign hung next to a large archway: Office of the President, and Milvus walked through to arrive at an antechamber. There was someone else in the room; behind a desk, next to the door leading to the office itself, sat a female goat. It was his industrious secretary, whom he had brought along from his own organisation and added to the palace staff.

"Knock knock," said Milvus.

Mellene looked up from her desk - "Mr. president" - and stood up.

"Already at it?"

"Yes sir, plenty of work to be done. I've compiled the documents from the General Staff briefing last week. I've put them on your desk - they requested that you study them as soon as possible."

Mellene's productivity often intimidated Milvus, and as usual he found himself acting differently in front of her - it was the same persona he presented to the world; that of the tireless businessman, and now, head of state. Around his secretary, he actually tried to live up to this image.

"Good job," he said, "I'll go have a look at it." He feigned a pensive expression. "I was perusing the artwork here, wondering what works we can loan out - the Bakor Stele especially belongs in a museum; it's not right to withhold something so special from the public." He was sure that would win him points with Mellene. She was the only goat he knew, but he had heard that her species revered Bakor.

Mellene said she agreed, and Milvus saw a hint of delight in her face.

Milvus continued: "So that reminded me of the need to appoint a culture minister. Could you get me a shortlist of possible candidates?"

"There is one already sir, in the folder on your desk, page twenty-two. I had it arranged two weeks ago."

Milvus slapped his forehead with a clawed hand. "Oh, that totally slipped my mind. Yes, there has been so much going on... anyway, thanks again Mellene."

He opened the door - a surprisingly basic looking door - and stepped into his new office. Slibug had told him that the room used to be the palace library, before the National Archive was constructed as a separate building next to the palace. The walls of his office were still lined with shelved books. This had prompted some cheek from Illa: "It seems my husband will be surrounded by his worst enemies."

The room had another floor, a convex balcony, that was accessible via a centrally placed spiral staircase. The room was about five times as long as it was wide, and at the very end, in front of a large curtain showing the emblem of the Federation, stood the most coveted desk in Ticossia. Milvus walked over and sat down in the desk's large leather chair, and let it sink in what authority he now possessed. He could only smile - he tried to think of the challenges he might have to meet, but he couldn't; nothing came to mind.

Two folders lay on his desk: a personal one, with notes and summaries and dossiers about people, and the other was the General Staff folder that Mellene compiled for him. He picked it up, and before opening it he reflected on his relationship with his secretary. He felt no physical attraction to her; she was too small for him, and Milvus had no want for species other than his own. Yet it did not escape him that he tried, maybe too hard sometime, to impress her. How does she see me... Milvus wondered, opening the folder.

Last week, as President-Elect, he had a meeting with the heads of the Federation military to discuss all the threats to their country. They had also hinted at attempts from foreign powers to undermine the election. Milvus felt that briefing was sufficient to bring him up to date, but it seemed like the brass had more information to share. He flicked through the pages - it looked like dry reading, but at least it was interspersed with some graphs and pictures. A handwritten note fell out of the folder and landed on the desk. Milvus picked it up and read it: Quick action required on Emsver, situation critical. See p. 12-15 for possible courses.

Milvus opened page twelve and skimmed the four pages, unconvinced they should do anything with the troublesome peninsula of Emsver. It had been a problematic country for all its existence, why should it suddenly be critically important that his administration had to deal with it? He tossed the military briefing aside and opened the other folder, flipping the pages until he reached page twenty-two.