The North PacificBoard

“So it is you…”

Maubin sweat furiously as he approached the table.

“Such a divine face, one I haven’t seen in so long.”

His eyes were open, but his mind obscured his vision voluntarily.

“Do you know how long it has been?”

Maubin smiled.

“Come now, be seated at the table. We have a lot to discuss. The Presidium waits for no man!”

Maubin finally focused his gaze upon his brother—Luc Chaisdec. The greatest challenge of his campaign was now right before him. All it would take would be rather small quantities of clever deceit and the most dedicated brotherly love… Were it that. The guilt sent pangs through his mind—as though a moose had thrusted its horns straight through Maubin’s brain matter. His conscience was agitated and nauseous—feelings which trickled down to his whole body.

“My dear brother, Michel! I’ve been waiting so long to speak with you. It seems you have taken up the family mantle which is to ‘destroy the oppressor’. And by God have you worked miracles.”
“Yes…”
“Oh Michel. I know what you’re thinking…”

Maubin tensed up, his palms curled and his back shot upright from the chair. Although he knew Luc couldn’t possibly expect what he had planned. The notion and concept of his knowledge released a dark essence into his mind and body. The lone Presidium of South Fusea was darkened—lit only by the small rays of sun that crashed and burned through the windows—which became suddenly so lifeless against the mahogany walls and furniture. Maubin was grateful for the obscurity that so gracefully shadowed away the guilt and the horror within his expression.

“You think I do not approve of your abstract. You think I believe you are anti-socialist. Let me be frank, Michel—I would have chosen something more liberalizing for a mission to end the corruption within the Fusean State, but if it is a movement that can even destabilize such an implicated nation—It may be just enough to reunite this country!”

Maubin shook his head in a miniscule fissure of relief.

“Well Seigneur Chaisdec, lay out your thinking before us! I am sure we can come to some agreement.” Luc smiled.
“Yes… Yes… Brother…” He began, “Brother the insurgents need… More.”
“More? Yes. Go on.”
“More weapons, munitions… Erm… We began very strong, hitting hard against the State army—but that drive won’t last long unless we have the means of… Of keeping it going… We will need air and ground support… Erm… Only in the form of… Of artillery. We actually pushed right through the Provençal line recently… Almost about to encircle La Mets but… Uh… It won’t last too long, yeah.”
“You mean thinks like planes and cars? Oh goodness me—You may as well have telephoned me for such a simple delight, Michel. Ah yes—the borderline however. Such a nightmare that borderline is, hmm? Although you must know all about nightmares… The front lines aren’t easy.
“Luc… I’m sorry.”

Maubin stood up, and suddenly went pale—as though his inner mind was on the cusp of revealing his true intent.

“NO!” He yelled.

Luc fell back into his seat, puzzlingly watching Maubin react.

“I… I’m sorry for not coming with you.”

Luc also stood up now, the light only reaching so far as to illuminate his lips. His eyes and face were now prisoners of the shadows in the room, and made it simpler for Maubin to glare at the figure he believed was his brother.

“Michel. I left home for the simple reason that our mother was a figure who instilled values in us that I now know are horrifically misguided.”

Maubin disagreed, but continued to play along.

“I left you, my little brother. I abandoned the family and for that I should be apologizing.”
“No… Do not do that to me.”
“No?”
“I just… I just need your assistance in this war, Luc. It is all I will ever need.”

Luc remained quiet, his emotions both acrimonious and regretful.

“I understand now, Michel. I can do what you want. Let it be my service for everyone’s troubles. And then after this whole affair is settled we can return to normal in our beautiful new country. We’re brothers—for life. There is nothing that can stop us but an untimely death and that is something I think neither of us will take upon oneself or the other.”

The maddening phrase echoed through Maubin’s, but the treachery at hand had not yet subsumed him.