Meetings of the Council of Commissioners, David had long since decided, were dull. Deadly dull. But they had to be persevered through.
"The events in Egypt" he began.
"Sinai's gone" Douglas replied blandly. "Suez will likely follow within the week. We expect them to have a puppet government in Cairo within two months if things continue as they have."
"You mean, if we refuse to help the Egyptians" put in Tony.
"That ish a rather inflammatory way of putting it" argued the other Tony from his chair next to him in the "Old Has-Beens we have to keep around for the look of the thing area" as David had long sincementally dubbed it.
"Can we prevent this by strengthening our Lend-Lease arrangements?" David put in, hoping to avoid another near-brawl. Although it would liven things up a bit........
"No."
"Even if all our allies do the same?" he pressed.
"Maybe" Dougie sounded dubious.
David paused for a moment, considering. If they did nothing, many of the ... traditionalists would accuse him of being in league with the enemy, especially given his.... ancestry. On the other hand, a lot of the other sort of old guard (with some overlap, because that was what some people were like) would criticise him for warmongering. On the third hand, he was always somewhat more inclined to the younger Tony's view. If not to the "Do the same to them in reverse" extent he had tended to follow as Premier. He probably couldn't afford boots on the ground, but...
"How soon can we have a carrier there, Philip?"
"The Robert Owen can be there by next week" the Commissioner for Defence replied promptly.
"Right. Get her there. Doug, try talking to Fabius and Berlusconi to do the same. Inform them the blockade is going whether they like it or not, strategic bombing is over, and we're prepared to call in tactical airstrikes in support of the Egyptians."
He looked round. "That do it, you think?"
Murmur of assent. Now to even more controversial matters. "How goes the housing privatisation experiment?" he asked Anna. There was major grumbling from around the room as she got out her notes.
"A year after the trial started", Anna began "19% of Oxford's housing supply is in private hands. The supply itself has increased by 1.5% - the national mean being 0.9%. Floor area per person has increased from 11m to 12......"
"And what about the downsides?" Eric heckled "A fifth of that private stock is being openly - openly and legally!- rented! Blatant profiteering! And that's just the official figures! And all the evidence I've seen indicates that this - this travesty - has increased rates of illegal leasing - on both private" he spat the word as if it were a curse "and permanent leased properties! How much money is this chimera leeching off the poor workers?"
Michael, somewhat more temperately, joined in "Allowing price varying and profit was bad enough, but this..... Where will it end? Healthcare? Transport? Telephones?"
David flushed furious, which had something - but only something - to do with the fact he did indeed have plans for that in his desk drawer.
Why shouldn't hard workers have the right to better houses, and to pass them onto their family? he asked himself, as the hardliners continued to scream and shout. Why shouldn't those who do the best get access to better healthcare - not the healthcare, just better that's available? Why can't any of them see that?
He was being harsh, he knew. He did have allies round the table - Anna, Flint, Alexander, Burnham, Young Tony, Ed....
And then Gorgeous George delivered him all the waverers in one fell swoop. "Your father would never have stood for this!" the minor functionary roared at David, shaking his fist, and the room fell deathly silent.
David breathed deeply to maintain his calm. His brother had turned a politically correct red, whilst Old Tony had gone deathly pale, knowing his supporters had gone too far this time.
He composed himself. "Now, now, comrades, even Marx and Engels did not envision immediate cessation of the existence of private property," he pointed it out. Marx had been a genius, but he had obviously been only a mortal, and therefore, naturally, got a few things wrong, but if he tried saying that he'd be out of a job by the time he stopped speaking. "Our forebears obviously failed to follow their direction properly in the revolution. It is therefore necessary to investigate whether we must correct our approach to the dialectic to resume the true path, or whether the progress since the revolution - while not inerrant - has put us past that point." David pondered whether to add his father would have recognised that, but refrained. Remain statesmanlike and above the fray. "I feel the data is inconclusive, so further trials are needed to determine the efficacy of this approach, and whether it would be a working part of our long-term-plan to properly establish socialism with British characteristics. Agreed?"
A few hardliners grumbled, but they knew George had lost it for them with that. He'd have to do something about George, David pondered to himself. Possibly Vice-Chair of the Presidium of the Congress, he'd not been to Congress in years himself (neither had George, he seemed to recall), it could be spun as a promotion, and it meant the increasingly rare occasions on which David had to face his ugly mug would be rarer still.
"Be that as it may," Carwyn interjected, "I do not see the need for any such trials in the Welsh ASR." Nods from the ultras, clearly grateful they could salvage something, and a few moderates.
"Nor I Scotland" Alex added.
"Very well" David conceded. Internally he was fuming. Those two were becoming increasing thorns in his side, especially Alex. He'd probably have to be purged before too long, David thought. Carwyn could probably just be moved to somewhere David had a closer eye on him, make it look like a promotion....
Thoughts of the reshuffle kept David so occupied on the way out he barely noticed his security had gotten - very slightly - separated. "Hello, Comrade Premier" said an unfamiliar voice. David turned his head. "For Gaza" the assassin cried, failing to disguise his New Zealander accent despite his best efforts, as he lunged at David with a knife that reached between his ribs.
The bodyguards shot him dead less than half a second later, but that did little good as David Cameron, the Chairman of the Council of People's Commissioners of the Socialist Republic of Britain, bled to death.
"The events in Egypt" he began.
"Sinai's gone" Douglas replied blandly. "Suez will likely follow within the week. We expect them to have a puppet government in Cairo within two months if things continue as they have."
"You mean, if we refuse to help the Egyptians" put in Tony.
"That ish a rather inflammatory way of putting it" argued the other Tony from his chair next to him in the "Old Has-Beens we have to keep around for the look of the thing area" as David had long sincementally dubbed it.
"Can we prevent this by strengthening our Lend-Lease arrangements?" David put in, hoping to avoid another near-brawl. Although it would liven things up a bit........
"No."
"Even if all our allies do the same?" he pressed.
"Maybe" Dougie sounded dubious.
David paused for a moment, considering. If they did nothing, many of the ... traditionalists would accuse him of being in league with the enemy, especially given his.... ancestry. On the other hand, a lot of the other sort of old guard (with some overlap, because that was what some people were like) would criticise him for warmongering. On the third hand, he was always somewhat more inclined to the younger Tony's view. If not to the "Do the same to them in reverse" extent he had tended to follow as Premier. He probably couldn't afford boots on the ground, but...
"How soon can we have a carrier there, Philip?"
"The Robert Owen can be there by next week" the Commissioner for Defence replied promptly.
"Right. Get her there. Doug, try talking to Fabius and Berlusconi to do the same. Inform them the blockade is going whether they like it or not, strategic bombing is over, and we're prepared to call in tactical airstrikes in support of the Egyptians."
He looked round. "That do it, you think?"
Murmur of assent. Now to even more controversial matters. "How goes the housing privatisation experiment?" he asked Anna. There was major grumbling from around the room as she got out her notes.
"A year after the trial started", Anna began "19% of Oxford's housing supply is in private hands. The supply itself has increased by 1.5% - the national mean being 0.9%. Floor area per person has increased from 11m to 12......"
"And what about the downsides?" Eric heckled "A fifth of that private stock is being openly - openly and legally!- rented! Blatant profiteering! And that's just the official figures! And all the evidence I've seen indicates that this - this travesty - has increased rates of illegal leasing - on both private" he spat the word as if it were a curse "and permanent leased properties! How much money is this chimera leeching off the poor workers?"
Michael, somewhat more temperately, joined in "Allowing price varying and profit was bad enough, but this..... Where will it end? Healthcare? Transport? Telephones?"
David flushed furious, which had something - but only something - to do with the fact he did indeed have plans for that in his desk drawer.
Why shouldn't hard workers have the right to better houses, and to pass them onto their family? he asked himself, as the hardliners continued to scream and shout. Why shouldn't those who do the best get access to better healthcare - not the healthcare, just better that's available? Why can't any of them see that?
He was being harsh, he knew. He did have allies round the table - Anna, Flint, Alexander, Burnham, Young Tony, Ed....
And then Gorgeous George delivered him all the waverers in one fell swoop. "Your father would never have stood for this!" the minor functionary roared at David, shaking his fist, and the room fell deathly silent.
David breathed deeply to maintain his calm. His brother had turned a politically correct red, whilst Old Tony had gone deathly pale, knowing his supporters had gone too far this time.
He composed himself. "Now, now, comrades, even Marx and Engels did not envision immediate cessation of the existence of private property," he pointed it out. Marx had been a genius, but he had obviously been only a mortal, and therefore, naturally, got a few things wrong, but if he tried saying that he'd be out of a job by the time he stopped speaking. "Our forebears obviously failed to follow their direction properly in the revolution. It is therefore necessary to investigate whether we must correct our approach to the dialectic to resume the true path, or whether the progress since the revolution - while not inerrant - has put us past that point." David pondered whether to add his father would have recognised that, but refrained. Remain statesmanlike and above the fray. "I feel the data is inconclusive, so further trials are needed to determine the efficacy of this approach, and whether it would be a working part of our long-term-plan to properly establish socialism with British characteristics. Agreed?"
A few hardliners grumbled, but they knew George had lost it for them with that. He'd have to do something about George, David pondered to himself. Possibly Vice-Chair of the Presidium of the Congress, he'd not been to Congress in years himself (neither had George, he seemed to recall), it could be spun as a promotion, and it meant the increasingly rare occasions on which David had to face his ugly mug would be rarer still.
"Be that as it may," Carwyn interjected, "I do not see the need for any such trials in the Welsh ASR." Nods from the ultras, clearly grateful they could salvage something, and a few moderates.
"Nor I Scotland" Alex added.
"Very well" David conceded. Internally he was fuming. Those two were becoming increasing thorns in his side, especially Alex. He'd probably have to be purged before too long, David thought. Carwyn could probably just be moved to somewhere David had a closer eye on him, make it look like a promotion....
Thoughts of the reshuffle kept David so occupied on the way out he barely noticed his security had gotten - very slightly - separated. "Hello, Comrade Premier" said an unfamiliar voice. David turned his head. "For Gaza" the assassin cried, failing to disguise his New Zealander accent despite his best efforts, as he lunged at David with a knife that reached between his ribs.
The bodyguards shot him dead less than half a second later, but that did little good as David Cameron, the Chairman of the Council of People's Commissioners of the Socialist Republic of Britain, bled to death.
