Devolution (4 page)

“Alright.”

“Well, I love history. I’d like to do something on the evolution of government. Maybe pick a specific type.” John bit his lip, waiting for a reply.

“Okay.” The few seconds leading up to that lonely statement were agonizing. John had no other ideas. This was all or nothing. “The sociology of government?”

“It’s specific, especially if I pick a certain aspect of governance, and it doesn’t seem stale.”

The old man leaned across the desk to study John’s notes. “Can this be done by May?”

“I’ll start now. “I’ve already done a lot of this work as an undergrad.” He scooted to the edge of his chair. “I will look at the great nations of the world: Rome, Greece, the Mayans, Persia, Ottoman, Byzantine, USSR, United States. Based on their successes and failures, I can predict how we will govern ourselves to create a more perfect union. Our civilization is the result of centuries of trial and error. How will we implement that knowledge going forward?” His stomach twisting, John sank back in his chair, but could hardly relax.

The old man’s bushy eyebrows arched up when he peeked above his thick bifocals. “It might work.”

The knot in John’s stomach loosened slightly.

“But...” the professor extended his finger, “I do fear this is a lot to handle in our timeframe. I’m also skeptical of the work’s significance. It must be relevant.”

“Sir,” John stated, “I will not let you down.”

Old Sores could never reject such zeal. “I want to see progress. At the end of January, let’s get together. If progress is lacking, we’ll change topics.” He allowed John time to consider his caveat. “Deal?” Old Sores extended his shaky gray hand across the desk.

John enthusiastically extended his own. “Deal!”

*

“Well?” Christian was already a few deep by the time his friend arrived.

“I’ll take the usual.”

Christian reached out to the passing waitress. “Ma’am, a pint of your house pilsner please.”

She smiled.

“So,” Christian turned back, “get yourself a topic?”

“I did,” John said proudly. “I am going to write a Constitution.”

His friend cocked his head. “You’re aware this is a sociology class, right?” Sarcasm was one of Christian’s finer traits.

The beer placed in front of John was so cold a thin surface of ice floated on top. A frigid rush chilled his throat as he gulped it down. “Well, Old Sores doesn’t actually know it yet.”

“Why should he?”

“Ahh, no worries. Look, I don’t really like sociology. If I am going to spend a few months working on this, I have to be interested. So I gave him some line about the sociology of government.
I
thought it sounded terrible.”

“It does.” Christian gurgled in his glass. “He bought it?”

John nodded.

“What kind of constitution will you be writin’?”

“A flawless one. I am going to study past civilizations, determine what made them strong, and what then led to their downfall. From that, I’ll write a Constitution that emphasizes what works and corrects for what doesn’t. We have enough human history to draw upon. There’s no reason any nation should fail—or even struggle for that matter. They can
all
be successful. I will find that perfect formula and write a Constitution that ensures lasting prosperity.”

“Damn.” Christian was authentically shocked. “That’s intense. How’d you....” He stopped in mid-sentence. His friend had zoned out. Christian knew the look. It was usually followed by a...

“Look at the Mayan empire of Central America.”

...tangent.

“They were the most powerful of all the ancient ‘American’ civilizations. They built temples and pyramids and vast cities that were untouchable during the first millennium. Their cities had a population of 2,000 per square mile, more than many of our cities today. Then it all vanished. Why?”

Christian shrugged. He knew the answer was pending.

“Some believe they simply ruined their environment. Scientists found lake sediment around 900 AD had no tree pollen. It was all weeds. The Mayans deforested their land. Without trees you have erosion of topsoil. One scientist said the change in ground cover could have increased the regional temperature by six degrees. That could have dried out the land, affected rain, lowered the groundwater table and reservoirs. The bones found from ancient Mayan people show severe malnutrition. It may not have been purely environmental, rather a combination of war, migration, and disease. These could be related. The worst drought in the past 7,000 years happened about when the Mayan empire collapsed. Cities were abandoned, causing economic collapse.”

“Ahh.”

“They couldn’t have been invaded because armies conquered for resources. The cities were abandoned. But if there were a drought, a war over water seems likely. It couldn’t have only been disease. Disease doesn’t wipe out 100 percent of a population.”

“Nope.”

“The northern cities like Chichen Itza and Coba lasted a little longer, but their water tables were closer to the ground than the southern cities.” John took a slight break to finish his beer. “If that was the reason the Mayan civilization fell, I would also look at what made them so powerful.”

Even as much as he liked to look bored, Christian actually found John’s knowledge interesting. A small part of him even envied his insight.

“The Mayans made great structures that instilled pride. They tracked a solar year, including eclipses. They mapped stars and were expert farmers.” He ticked off the items on his fingers. “They developed their own mathematics and system of writing. They studied architecture; established strong trade routes. Unlike many nations that conquered their way to power, the Mayans relied on intellectual achievement. They spent a large portion of resources educating their children. That may have been why they lasted so long. They prospered through education, not warfare. So what do you think about my thesis?”

“You know what, man?” Christian said honestly. “Lesser ideas have changed the world.”

*

January of the following year

“Pugh, Cunnington, and Sykes to Step Down”

The headlines were stark. Three of the four men taken hostage that fall day in London wouldn’t return to the House of Commons after May elections. Speculation in both Houses, media, and the public mounted. What were they afraid of? Why would they quit? The only member running for reelection was Tony Manning. The country decried the loss of its most revered leaders.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” A disgusted Manning clutched the kitchen table after reading the headline.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Manning’s wife, Emma, entered the kitchen holding their baby. Soon, she’d set out on her morning run.

Emma Manning was the appropriate wife for a young politician. She was tall and thin, pale skinned, with flowing red hair. Emma was an admired wife in the Commons. Her socials were an honor to attend. A practicing Catholic—one of a few left in the Kingdom—she carried on the religious traditions of her Irish ancestors. But her looks and faith were deceiving. Underneath her disciplined exterior lay an erratic temper.

“They all told me they considered stepping down, but I didn’t think they would actually do it.” Manning’s irritation was growing with every breath.

“They didn’t handle the situation as well as you,” Emma said, preparing the baby’s formula in the sink. “It was obvious.”

Tony approached the kitchen window. The overnight snow was finally beginning to taper off.

“They are giving up!” He slammed his open hand against the granite counter and the baby began to cry.

Emma flashed her husband an unforgiving glare as she calmed the child. “What do you mean?”

“The terrorists.”

Emma put the baby on her shoulder and faced Tony.

“I have to talk to them.” He fiddled in his pocket for his phone.

Emma looked perplexed. Her husband’s anger seemed misplaced.

Tony first called Pugh, then Sykes, and finally, Cunnington. They all agreed to meet at noon for lunch at a cafe in downtown London.

Tony was the first to arrive. He informed the waitress of their meeting and requested privacy.

In House-of-Commons-style, the other three arrived on time. They sat down in an awkward manner.

“Tony, we can’t do this anymore. I don’t
want
to do this anymore,” Sykes said softly as not to be overheard. “I can’t sleep at night knowing that I lied to my country. My constituents trusted me. I think I might even leave the island for some time.”

“Me, too,” Pugh said. He appeared unusually skittish. “I feel like
they’re
listening. I don’t feel safe in my car, at work, on the phone, in my house. If I leave politics, maybe I can get my life back. Right now, I don’t feel like I have one.”

“This is not right,” pleaded Manning. “How can you walk away? The people deserve more.” He placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “I don’t want to start a war, I just want to be honest. We came into the House on a platform of transparency. Let’s
honor
that commitment.”

“It’s not worth my family,” Cunnington said unapologetically.

“If we do this together, the four of us, they can’t retaliate,” Manning insisted. The nation is behind us.”

The waitress placed water glasses on the table for each of them. As instructed, she left immediately.

“How do we know they are not listening, right now?” Cunnington asked, watching the waitress approach another table. “It freaks me out.” He lifted his glass to inspect his water. “Does the waitress work for them? I can’t handle this. I have to rid myself of this torment.”

The other two agreed.

“Tony, how long have we known each other?” Sykes asked. “Decades, right? You’re one of my best friends and I have always been there for you. And you, me. But on this, I am out. We’re all out.”

Manning, however, could not let it go.

“Think of the people who are being wronged. All the tax dollars wasted. How many innocent people have died? We took an oath.” His voice quivered. “We have a responsibility!”

“Tony, I’m sorry.” Sykes stood up and pushed in his chair. “I appreciate your passion, but I can’t help you.” He turned and walked away.

“Tony, I am not interested in taking on the government,” Pugh said, standing. “We have a responsibility to our families first. Good luck my friend. I’d hate to see something happen to you.” He followed after Sykes.

It was now only Manning and Cunnington.

“Tony, what are you going to do? The pamphlets are gone. Who will believe us? We may be in Parliament, but we have no power. We are moving on. I suggest you do the same.”

“Will, please,” Tony said, offering one final plea.

“Tony, that guy in the room was right. They
are
the good guys. They
are
on our side. If I have to live in ignorance to keep my life, then so be it.” Will leaned towards Tony and spoke caringly. “We were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He looked his friend in the eye. “Please, Tony, let it go. This is a battle you won’t win. In fact, it’s one you may not want to win.”

“I don’t want a battle,” Tony declared, shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter what
you
want. And that is what scares the hell out of me.”

With that, Cunnington stood and pushed his chair under the table. “I will serve my country until May. Then I am done.”

Manning soon found himself alone, watching his final ally shrink with each step down the snow blown street. Without help, he knew he could not continue. He would need a conduit to deliver his message. But anonymity was key.

He removed his phone from his pocket, jiggling it in his hand. With a stern look of determination, he stood up. He knew what he had to do. And he was going home to do it.

*

When night fell on that pleasant January day, it brought with it a cold front laced in a deep freeze and unforgiving wind. The snow that fell the night before had melted in the mid-morning sun. Only scattered patches remained throughout the yards in the Nolans’ neighborhood.

John was holed up in his room, where he had spent much of the prior two months. His desk was stacked high with history books and encyclopedias, littered with notes and markers. As he read, text scrolled across his monitor; “minimum is never enough.”

Although he was hurried, his room remained orderly. The bright, hot lights of his desk kept him awake. The silence kept him focused.

After finishing his latest book, John sucked in some stuffy air and settled in to type out the history of the Ottoman Empire, the rise and fall of this once great civilization. It didn’t matter if it took all night. Soon, he would present his work to the professor. There was no time for sleep.

When he was done, the paper read:

The Ottoman Empire was the most powerful Islamic-controlled nation, ever, a multi-ethnic and multi-religious state that reached its peak in the 15th and 16th centuries. Its rule spanned three continents and was once greatly feared and respected. In the end, it was reduced to a pejorative sobriquet, “The sick man of Europe.”

The Turks thrived during the Middle Ages when Christian Europe was stuck in stagnation. The Ottomans utilized this time to set up business centers where schools of theology and advanced studies flourished. The government subsidized many of these institutions, which did not discriminate on the basis of class or religion. The system worked to develop powerful working and ruling classes. These institutions, called Akhis, grew very powerful, which would become a problem centuries later.

The key to the longevity of the empire was its tolerance and acceptance of different faiths, which attracted many of the world’s greatest minds and most ambitious entrepreneurs.

In 1453, it conquered the Serbs, extending the empire into Europe. Constantinople became its new capital. Trade routes blossomed, the economy prospered, and its military grew in power and influence.