Inside the Atrium

[Clarenthia]

Vakhtang Kikabidze was walking down a hallway in the Council Building, to the Press Room. Kikabidze is perhaps the second most recognized face in Akhaltsikhe, behind the Executor. He is the nation’s Minister of Media, but his job is quite different from that of previous Ministers of Media. The Executor is in his mid 70s and the stresses of Office are beginning to take their toll on him, making speeches is becoming difficult for the elderly man, so in 2005 he chose Kikabidze to become Minister of Media and ultimately be the spokesman of the Executor. Since 2005, the 44 year old man has made more speeches on the Executor’s policies and Council’s decisions than the Executor himself. Because of his relationship with the people and relationship with Council, many believe that Kikabidze will one day replace Saakashvili as Executor.

Minister Kikabidze turned the corner and opened a door into the Press Room. At least thirty people from the Press were there and Kikabidze took his position behind the podium, smiling for the cameras. The Press room quieted

“Good Afternoon, members of the Press and citizens of Akhaltsikhe. Today I am here to unveil what has been done at the Akhaltsikhe-Barazi Summit. The Summit was concluded yesterday with a historic agreement made between us and Barazi. This agreement was one of economics. As we speak both Barazi’s and our own foreign ministries are hard at work to devise the written version of the agreements so that both the Executor and the Rebher to sign. This economic alliance will enable us to open each other’s markets to business, providing for the opportunity of economic prosperity. We hope that this is the start of new, closer ties to Barazi.”

The Minister stayed for about fifteen minutes, answering questions before he left the Press Room. While he was walking in the hallway, Director Sulkhan Tsintsadze came up to him.

“Ah, Director Tsintsadze, may I ask what you’re doing here?” Minister Kikabidze asked.

“Council has assembled; they are discussing a matter of extreme importance. They have requested that I not only attend, but bring you and Minister Takaishvili to the Atrium. Do you know where Minister Takaishvili is?” the Director asked.

“No, I cannot say that I do, but I will head to the Atrium immediately,” Kikabidze said.

“Thank you, Minister,” the Director answered and walked away.

Kikabidze thought that whatever it was, it had to be important if two of the top military men were requested to a meeting.

 

[Clarenthia]

The atrium had an assembled Council in it. When Kikabidze walked in, Councilor Abkhaz was speaking. Abkhaz was appointed to the Council in 2000. Previously, he served as Director of the National Security Agency until 1995, when he was appointed Minister of the Interior, until 2000 when he became a Councilor. What stood out about Abkhaz was he was the Senior Councilor. The Senior Councilor is not based on age; the Senior Councilor takes over if the Executor is unable to continue to execute the office. Abkhaz has been in this position for 4 years. All the secrets in the nation that have been documented on paper Abkhaz knew about. He even knew about how Saakashvili deliberately failed to defend the Council in 1973.

Executor Saakashvili never approved of Abkhaz becoming the Senior Councilor. The League of Ten appointed Abkhaz. Abkhaz’s power hungry personality and Saakashvili’s general dislike of him have lead to numerous conflicts between the two of them. Abkhaz is a famous name because it is one of the most powerful families in Akhaltsikhe. Ever since 1901, there has been an Abkhaz on the Council.

“Ah! Minister Kikabidze, please take a seat,” Saakashvili said, interrupting Abkhaz.

“Executor, I am happy to be in your presence,” Kikabidze replied.

“Yes, of course. Councilor Abkhaz, inform Minister Kikabidze on your plan,” the Executor ordered.

“Yes Milord, the National Security Agency has found the location of several dissenter bases along the South. We have reason to believe that they are hiding weapons; we of course cannot have this. As a result of this, I’ve proposed to the Council that swift military action be taken in order to quell the dissenters’ build up. We won’t kill the dissenters, we will put them onto hard labor in the mines, hopefully that’ll do them what they deserve,” Abkhaz stated.

“With all due respect, where do I come in on this?” Kikabidze asked.

“You’re one of the most trusted men in the Nation, you have access to our secrets, and thus you are being told. Here is a script of exactly what you’ll announce to the public; we’d like your opinion on it,” Abkhaz said.

After looking it over a little, Kikabidze finished his analysis.

“This isn’t how I would cover it up, it doesn’t sound like I’m talking if I was to read off this script. If I may suggest, I’ll write a script of my own, something that sounds a little more like me and I’ll present it to the Council for approval,” Kikabidze declared.

“Of course,” Executor Saakashvili said.

Kikabidze bowed and walked out of the room as the discussion on how to attack began.

 

[Clarenthia]

Saakashvili was sitting in his bed in the hospital, flicking through channels. His nurse came in and told him that he had a visitor, to his delight, he told the nurse to let him in. In walked Kote Abkhaz. Saakashvili smiled at the man, but Abkhaz gave his infamous address to people, a simple nod of his head. His dark eyes always made contact with yours and it would feel as though he was looking into your very soul, showing no emotions on his face whatsoever.

“The League of Ten has assembled, why aren’t you there?” Saakashvili asked.
“I decided I’d pay a visit,” Abkhaz said.
“I’m glad, It’s boring in this hospital,” Saakashvili said.
“I’d like to discuss why I’m here,” Abkhaz’s cold, deep voice stated.
“Well, why are you here?” Saakashvili inquired.
“In 1972, you gave a specific order for anti-air gunners not to shoot down bombers that were heading for the Council Building, which happened to house a fully assembled Council. Once they were gone, you ensured that the military took notice of your…heroism. You then bartered the League of Ten into anointing a young Zviad Saakashvili as Executor and have been ever since,” Abkhaz said.
“What are you saying?” Saakashvili asked.
“There are documents of you saying this, yourself. I am asking you resign from your position as Executor,” Abkhaz stated, coldly.

Saakashvili stared. His Senior Councilmen, the person he both trusted and debated with for years has just ordered that he resign from office. Kote Abkhaz, the second most powerful man in the country was attempting a coup of the established government. Saakashvili became infuriated, Abkhaz showed no emotion.

“As always, there is a choice. You can resign and you’ll be forever remembered as a hero to this nation, or I release the documents, incriminate you, and you’ll go down as the worst villain in this nation’s history,” Abkhaz stated.
“Is that how much you hate me?” Saakashvili asked.
“You’ve held this position for 37 years. I don’t hate you, you’re just done,” Abkhaz said.

There was a long, awkward silence. Saakashvili, had a tear roll down his cheek, as he stared at the end of the bed, at a loss of words. He felt oppressed by Abkhaz’s cold; dark eyes ripping staring at him, as if without blink, showing no emotion. The sick man showed no emotion, but his satisfaction was almost palpable.

Abkhaz stood and put his hand on Saakashvili’s shoulder. “Twenty-four hours,” he whispered. Abkhaz removed his hand and took a step back from the bed. “It has been good to see you, Mr. Executor, I hope you have a full recovery.”

Abkhaz walked out of the room.

 

[Clarenthia]

Abasha’s city hall(former Council Building) was teeming with people as the Council and League of Ten had met there to discuss issues that were important to the nation. In the meeting room, extremely expensive wine was served as the two bodies chatted and laughed over numerous things not pertaining to the nation. Suddenly, however, there was a surprise announcement that Executor Saakashvili had arrived in Abasha, he wanted to speak before the League of Ten and the nation. The bodies hurried to the main hall to hear the Executor.

Abkhaz took a seat in the front row, next to him sat Minister Kikabidze. The Executor appeared, dressed in his traditional garb, and then the room quieted as he began to speak.

“On April 13, 1973, I officially became Executor of Akhaltsikhe. These last thirty-seven years have been very eventful for us all, and although the stresses of this office are large, they never got the best of me. These last 37 years have been the best years of my life. However, I am announcing that on June 1, 2010, I will be resigning from the position of Executor.”

The crowd gasped. Never had anyone suspected that Saakashvili would resign, many believed he’d be in till death.

“It has been an amazing time, no doubt, but my medical condition is deteriorating and I would like to spend my final years in peace, not in front of a spotlight, not making difficult decisions day after day. I am sorry for the short notice, but I figured the League has seven days to select a new Executor. It is my hope that my successor will be the best for this nation. I have faith in the League of Ten to choose wisely and correctly, so I finally say to you all, good night.”

Saakashvili peered into Abkhaz’s eyes. Again, he was cold, lifeless, just staring, but the feeling of satisfaction was still there. Saakashvili turned and began to leave, he heart sinking lower and lower with every step. He was to be admitted to Abasha’s Hospital. His doctor would just so happen to be a member of the Abkhaz family.

 

[Clarenthia]

Saakashvili was sitting on the beach, watching the waters of the Vostók Sea crash on Akhaltsikhe’s coast. He took a sip of his wine and sighed. Thirty-seven years ago Saakashvili allowed the Council to be killed in order to have a new Council selected, one that he hoped he’d be on. It was never his plan that he’d be Executor for thirty-seven years. That same good deed ended up taking his position away, stolen from him. Saakashvili sighed and his thoughts were interrupted when Abkhaz sat down next to him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Abkhaz asked.
“They haven’t chosen you yet?” Saakashvili asked.
“I’m sorry, Zviad,” Abkhaz said.
“I want to know why,” Saakashvili demanded.

Abkhaz leaned back in his chair, keeping a somewhat long, awkward silence. Abkhaz looked over to Saakashvili and gave a smile.

“You’ve done more for this nation than anyone else in history, I respect you for it, trust me I do,” Abkhaz said, taking a sip of his wine “But, it’s been thirty-seven years, Zviad. I was twenty when you took over, attending the National Academy, as everyone in my family had. I believe in a transition of power, what you were doing was near dictatorship. You needed to leave.”

“Why do you want to be the Executor?” Saakashvili asked.

“You did it wrong. You continued to do it wrong, I’ll do it right. A nation needs a strong, idolized Central Government, that’s something you’ve failed to do. A few more years of your leadership, this nation would be in civil war,” Abkhaz said.

“You’re wrong, Kote,” Saakashvili replied.

“I have a gift for you Zviad, a deal, is a deal,” Abkhaz said, giving Saakashvili a yellow envelope.

“What is this?” Saakashvili asked.

“Every document you have on the decision you made when you let the Council die. Do with it as you will, as far as I’m concerned, I never knew,” Abkhaz said.

“How was I wrong, Kote,” Saakashvili asked.

“You’re soft, dissenter attacks are growing, our enemies are growing, and it’s your entire fault. You’ve also managed to make it so our Government has little to no purchasing power. I’m sorry, Zviad, but you ran it wrong,” Abkhaz answered.

“How would you fix it?” Saakashvili inquired.

“First, you win the hearts and minds of the people. Give them a little money, make their lives a little easier, and they’ll come crawling, worshipping the Government as the supreme entity in the world, officially slaughtering the last of the Islamic religion. And then, you cause a little instability in your neighbors, make them work harder, making it easier for us to continue to move in national interest,” Abkhaz said.

“You think it’s that easy?” Saakashvili asked.

Abkhaz smiled, leaned back in his beach chair. He picked up his wine glass, shook the wine inside a little bit, and took a long sip of it. Saakashvili stared at Abkhaz intensely. After a long silence, Abkhaz looked over at Saakashvili.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?”
Abkhaz slowly stood up, put his hand on Saakashvili’s shoulder, smiled, and patted the man’s shoulder. Abkhaz walked away and Saakashvili poured more wine into his glass.

 

[Clarenthia]

Abkhaz was sitting on board the plane carrying him to Abasha. He was paging through various reports on the Nationalization of the Banks. His concentration was interrupted when Nadarejshvili walked in.

“So, you did it?” Nadarejshvili asked.
“Yes, it would appear so, everything is going well,” Abkhaz replied.
“Will I remain the Finance Minister?” Nadarejshvili asked.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d enjoy becoming the Senior Councilor, I cannot guarantee you the job, but I can nominate you,” Abkhaz stated.
“Really?” Nadarejshvili asked.
“Yes, but do not answer now, come to my office at noon on Wednesday, I want you to really think it over,” Abkhaz said.
“I will diffidently give it thought,” Nadarejshvili answered. “I have to ask, how do you plan to end the food rations?”

Abkhaz put his reports down and looked at Nadarejshvili.

“Simple, I’m going to Jizhou and Sinhai soon, once there, I’ll get them to sign a deal with us where we will purchase large amounts of food to come into the nation. That surplus will end the food rations,” Abkhaz said.

“Wouldn’t that hurt our domestic farms?” Nadarejshvili asked.

“Yes,” Abkhaz answered. “But, the majority of the dissenters manifest themselves as farmers. Once they begin to suffer, they’ll need to go to us or dive into poverty. The dissenters will need to make a choice, the ones who refuse, well, we’ll just watch them more.”

“That’s an interesting way of handling things,” Nadarejshvili said.

“It’s the only way. The dissenters must be defeated, and we can’t do it through military means, we simply must be creative. But let us not worry about that now, I have an inauguration to prepare for.” Abkhaz said.

 

[Clarenthia]

Zurab Nadarejshvili, who had become Abkhaz’s most trusted advisor, came into the Executor’s Mansion. He looked around at the building, it certainly was magnificent. Every modern luxury that one could possibility imagine was there. Nadarejshvili walked around a little before he came to a room with glass walls. The room provided a 180 degree view of the entire city of Tetri Tsqaro, the lights of the city were a magnificent site. Nadarejshvili looked down and saw the Executor sitting there, drinking champagne, looking at the paper, he noticed Nadarejshvili walked in.

“Ah! Zurab, it’s good to see you, my friend,” the Executor said “please, take a seat.”

“As it is you, Milord,” Nadarejshvili said, sitting down.

“Please, this isn’t formal, call me Kote,” the Executor said, smiling.

“You seem abnormally happy tonight,” Nadarejshvili said.

“Things are going well, I have every reason to be happy,” Abkhaz answered.

“Speaking of this…a woman on the Council, replacing almost half the Council, reversing a 100 year old religious policy, I always took you to be a conservative,” Nadarejshvili said.

“I am what I need to be, Zurab,” Abkhaz answered, after a short pause.

“I don’t understand,” Nadarejshvili said.

“There’s a reason Saakashvili was removed. He didn’t know how to play the game of politics. He did at one point, but he lost his touch. It resulted in an economic decline and isolation from the rest of the world. I’m fixing things, rather rapidly. If people want to see me as a Conservative, I’ll be conservative. If people want to see me as a Progressive, I’ll be a Progressive. Whatever I need to be, I will be,” Abkhaz answered.

“Is that why you’re reforming?” Nadarejshvili asked.

“I have an agenda, Zurab, everything I do there’s a reason to it. I nationalized the Banks, to provide stability yes, but mainly because now I can watch the financial matters of every citizen in this nation. I can watch the transfer of money, that power, is unbelievable, something Saakashvili was too short sighted to ever think of. I plan to build tenements for the poor, hospitals for the poor, yes to help them out, but mainly because the dissenters operate among the poor. I want to get the poor to follow me, not the dissenters. All this welfare, all a means to defeat the dissenters. Canceling the food rations, simply a way to bring down our own farms, where the dissenters thrive. Why? Because then I can bail them out, then the farms will see me as a King, a savior, the dissenters will fall. My reverse of the religious policy, simple, I want to ease tensions with Hajr and nations abroad, I want to distance ourselves from that Rebher who may have destroyed our reputation. More will be, Zurab, much more,” Abkhaz preached.

“You think it’ll work?” Nadarejshvili asked.

“If not, then we’ll try something else. We’ll defeat the dissenters, we’ll achieve favorability, if we don’t, then I’ve failed,” Abkhaz said.

“I see, it makes sense now, Kote,” Nadarejshivili stated.

“Oh, by the way, we’re going to begin work on nuclear weapons, it’ll be an expensive program, but hopefully I can get Jizhou on our side,” Abkhaz said, standing up “It’s late I want to go to bed, good night to you, Zurab.”

The Executor walked away and Zurab Nadarejshvili stood up. He thought to himself ”Dear god things will change”

 

[Clarenthia]

Executor Abkhaz was sitting in his chair, watching the television. He was watching the media’s frantic coverage of the fall of Barazi. Abkhaz wanted to pull as much of it off the media as he could, he didn’t want the people to be so greatly informed of the failure of the Executor’s Army, it was bad for prestige. Zurab Nadarejshvili walked into the room.

“So, Barazi fell,” Abkhaz said.

“It would appear so, it isn’t surprising is it?” Nadarejshvili asked.

“No, not in the least,” Abkhaz answered “Can I ask you a question, Zurab?”

“Of course,” Nadarejshvili answered.

“You convinced Saakashvili to close down the detainment centers, why?” Abkhaz asked.

“They were unnecessary and expensive,” Nadarejshvili answered.

“No, really, what was your purpose? I am not blind, Zurab, why did you fight so hard to close them?” Abkhaz asked.

“I care for people, those detainment centers would spell our undoing. If people discovered them, they wouldn’t be prisons, they’d consider them concentration camps,” Nadarejshvili said.

“why not just say that to Saakashvili?” Abkhaz asked.

“Because he wanted them to be concentration camps,” Nadarejshvili said.

Abkhaz gave an odd stare, and then Councilor Al-Shibibi came in. He was carrying with him a folder filled with plans for greater equality among the Arabs and Georgians. He began ranting about his plans and Abkhaz grew angry with him.

“Councilor Al-Shibibi,” he interrupted “you seem to not understand your position. You see, first off, Councilors do not present me with ideas, I present the Council with ideas. Also, you aren’t even a true Councilor. You are simply in your office to make people look happily upon us, no other reason, none at all. So please, take your leave.”

Al-Shibibi was dumbfounded. What does someone say to that? He did nothing but left the room. Abkhaz looked to Nadarejshvili and smiled. “Newbies, you know?” Abkhaz said jokingly.

Nadarejshvili smiled and bowed, taking his leave. He quickly hurried down the hallway in an attempt to find Al-Shibibi, when he did; Al-Shibibi was almost in tears. Nadarejshvili took him outside onto the balcony of the Atrium; it was the only place Nadarejshvili knew wasn’t watched with cameras.

“The nerve of you sick, sick, vial people!” Al-Shibibi screamed.

“I implore you to discontinue screaming,” Nadarejshvili said, calmly.

“You, you implore me? You’re just as disgusting and miserable as anyone else, you deserve eternal damnation, do you hear me!?” Al-Shibibi screamed.
“I am doing everything I can, I need you to help,” Nadarejshvili claimed.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Al-Shibibi said.

“I’ve been, for the last twenty-two years helping the dissenters in their mission. You’re very important to it and you need to do what I tell you to do,” Nadarejshvili said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m much more to this Government then just a Finance Minister. I’ve been a close advisor to both Saakashvili and Abkhaz. I’ve been funneling information to the dissenters for years. That’s why they’re still alive,” Nadarejshvili answered.

“How can I trust you?” Al-Shibibi asked.

“If you don’t, then go into Abkhaz’s office and tell him of my involvement, get on his good side, but sacrifice the entire Dissenter Operation, that’s what is at stake here, Councilor,” Nadarejshvili said.

“What do you want me to do?” Al-Shibibi asked.

“Everything Abkhaz says to do. That’s how you’ll get on his good side, just do that for me,” Nadarejshvili.

“That seems like you’re just trying to get me not to expose Abkhaz,” Al-Shibibi said.

Nadarejshvili couldn’t help but laugh “You’ll be killed before you expose him, he’d kill every last person in this nation before he’d allow himself to be exposed.”

“I just don’t know if I can trust you,” Al-Shibibi said.

“Do what you think is right, that’s all I can ask, Councilor,” Nadarejshvili said.

The Finance Minister walked back into the Atrium and Al-Shibibi leaned over the railing, thinking about what he had just been told, which was nothing short of treason.