[X] A Necessary Scam
- [X][ACC] Declare the election a holiday so people have the day off
- [X][ACC] Allow mosques to collect early votes and function as polling stations
- [X][ACC] Provide religious conversion papers to the AENC
- [X][FRA] Expand voting to business owners
- [X][FRA] Expand voting to state employees
- [X][DIS] Arrest CAP members for minor crimes using loyal soldiers
- [X][MIS] Naturalize all refugees from Levant as citizens
- [X][MIS] Appoint AENC members as ballot counters
- [X][MIS] Spy on Iskandar Drakos
===
Egypt, Spring 1916 - Campaign Trail - Results
===
Marcato wasted no time in putting the gears of bureaucracy into motion. They moved with a shuddering halt, groaning in protest from disuse, but it turned, slowly and surely, like a ponderous beast shaking grime off its coat as it awakened. The once seemingly impenetrable bars of his cage proved to be far looser than he'd expected. So the governor's network of reliable aides expanded, ensuring his orders were carried out and funneling resources into the AENC's coffers.
===
With the few strokes of a pen, Marcato had created a civic holiday. The official reason was that it was meant to celebrate his birthday, and by sheer happenstance would fall during the same time as the election. Businesses were expected to be closed during the long weekend, even state services would be operating on shorter hours. Giving workers more than enough opportunity to vote, a possibility denied to the small population of working class Copts and Jews do to long hours.
"Sir," Jason began, looking over the decree with a touch of concern," if I may, we can't cancel the election. It'd be too disruptive and costly."
Marcato raised an eyebrow. "I said nothing about canceling it. If people wish to waste their time off voting then that's their business." He gave his secretary an unimpressed look. "Normally such gestures would be below me, however I'd like to end my term as governor on a high note."
"You plan on retiring, sir?" Jason inquired. He didn't sound surprised, more like he was expecting it. The charade between them would be coming to an end, though not in the way the Greek was no doubt envisioning.
"It'd appear so. We'll be parting ways once the election concludes," Marcato replied.
A smirk spread across Jason's youthful face. "It'll be a shame to see you leave us so soon, sir, but I'm sure that Egypt will be in good hands once you leave."
"I know it will be." Marcato watched the Greek walk out the door, but speaking up as he passed the threshold. "One more thing." Jason halted in his tracks after a moment, and turned back to the governor. "I'd like you to organize a parade through the European Quarter of Alexandria to celebrate the day. It should be a modest affair, spend accordingly."
"Of course sir, I'll see to that immediately." Jason nodded and left the office.
Marcato knew that the order would be carried out. His own trustworthy aides would inform him that the decree hadn't been thrown out in due time. The only reason Marcato allowed Jason to even see it before it had gone into effect was to serve as a good distraction. It would keep him busy while much more radical decrees would be carried out beneath his nose. The Greek's control over information entering and leaving the palace was broken.
Over the following weeks more would follow.
===
Ahmed finished signing off on the paperwork. The government clerk had been exceptionally cooperative with him the entire time, ensuring the process went as smoothly as possible. The ease of it would have stunned him days ago, even then it still did to an extent. It would have seemed downright impossible, had he not known him and the clerk shared a mutual friend that'd put them in touch.
The clerk gave the documents one final glance before nodding and stamping them in approval. "Congratulations, your mosque is now a registered polling station."
Relief flooded Ahmed's bodies, shoulders relaxing as tension he didn't realize he was holding dissipated. It had not been a horrible trick and the clerk had come through for him. It was a stepping stone to something far greater than himself and he was proud to play a part of it. "That is wonderful to hear, absolutely wonderful," he said with a genuine, heartfelt smile.
"I'm just doing my job," the clerk replied, smiling in return. He ducked under the counter to pull out a leather satchel, one used for carrying paperwork. He laid it out in front of himself, undoing the clasps to double check the contents and nodded. "You'll need these to help get everything sorted out." He turned satchel towards the imam.
The top form was visible, a signed and approved conversion form with the name left blank. The imam's eyes widened when he saw them. It was easily hundreds of them stuffed into the satchel. "Yes, yes, of course, these will be absolutely vital." He closed it and took it off the counter. It had a certain amount of heft to it from all the forms packed inside.
"We'll be sending more to you next week." The clerk leaned in and whispered, "a few thousand in fact. Be sure to hand them out liberally."
Ahmed nodded, understanding the magnitude of the gesture. It'd handily secure the riding for the AENC with a wave of 'Christians' voting with their consciousness to support the party. It gave him hope as he left the small office.
===
Jason threw the doors open as he burst into Marcato's office. He looked panicked and irate, eyes immediately landing upon the figure of the governor, who sat at his desk pouring over more documents. He didn't glance up, refusing to give the Greek the time of day.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jason demanded as he marched up to the governor and slapped down a decree written by Marcato featured in the front page of a local paper. It announced his expansion of voting rights to all business owners and state employees. Marcato had written it a week prior and ensured it'd spread far and wide across the country, and then waited for the Macedonians to learn alongside everyone else.
He hid his amusement at getting a rise out of the Greek. "You can read, can't you?"
"This- sir," Jason forced out, sucking in a breath, "this is reckless and damages the stability of the incoming administration. You've made promises that it might not be able to keep. It's only going to cause trouble for the whole colony."
"I see it very differently. I've bought the loyalty of the Muslim burghers, civil servants, and the army," Marcato stressed the word, glancing up to glare at Jason with narrowed eyes. "The regime gives benefits to those who serve it. Do you want to be the one to tell them no?"
"This was not approved!" Jason said, slamming a hand on the desk.
"Then your masters are clearly lacking in vision," Marcato replied, unflinching at the Greek's outburst. "If they find it so disagreeable then they can be the ones to reverse it. If that's all you had to discuss, I'd advise you to leave. I have better things to do than waste my time trying to grant sight to the blind."
The Greek's youthful face scrunched up and grew red, upset at being dismissed, turning with a huff, muttering under his breath as he left, "as you wish, sir." He had the decency to only slam the doors a bit on his way out.
Marcato let out a breath, taking several seconds to recenter his focus. When he'd finished he looked back down at the documents on his desk. The first as a list of CAP he knew were likely guilty of corruption, tax evasion, fraud, and other minor crimes that had previously gone unpunished, and another list of those he suspected were guilty. It'd soon be in Lorenzo's hands, who'd hand it off to allies inducted into Marcato's bodyguard. It was a slowly growing organization as vetted AENC members joined its ranks, eager to use the legal authority granted to them to clamp down on their oppressors and political rivals.
Even if said authority was derived from a colonial office. Marcato saw in it the potential to be a very effective security force, once it had time to grow and blossom. The dullards who'd stuck around to receive a pay cheque were slowly being whipped back into shape. Those who didn't get with the program were relieved of duty.
===
The knock on the door was the only warning Besada received. It was late at night and the politician had returned from a social gathering in the European Quarter of town. He'd been rubbing shoulders with men and women of high society, schmoozing his way to success to ensure the party remained well funded and favoured by them. It was an exhausting but productive night, he deemed it, judging by the buzz he'd acquired. That serene peace of mind was shattered much like his apartment door when it was kicked in, swinging inside.
Men armed with batons rushed in, striking him repeatedly over and over again. He dropped to the ground, stunned and confused, as several officers began going through his apartment. He felt warm blood roll down his head, staining the collar of his shirt, before being lifted up and handcuffed.
"Besada," one officer said in Arab with a Venetian accent, a small lion emblem pinned to his label, "you are under arrest for embezzlement, grand larceny, tax fraud, tax evasion, license fraud, and a few other things I'm sure we can find."
Besada couldn't muster a coherent reply. His head ached with pain, so all he could do was stare in a daze as the Arab officers tore apart his apartment. Every drawer dumped out onto the floor, every cabinet opened and its contents shattered on the floor, like they were taking a sort of twisted pleasure in smashing everything he owned. The destructive charade ended once they reached his small home office and handled the contents of it with actual care.
Content with what they found, they gathered the evidence and took it with them as they dragged the semi-conscious man out into the night. He'd be the first of many politicians arrested as part of Marcato's corruption crackdown. All supposedly to give a clean slate to whomever won the election.
The CAP complained loudly about the arrests, but Lorenzo was careful to target lesser party members and never any Macedonians. It caused Drakos to make noise about possibly upsetting Coptic sensibilities. That was the extent of it. His complains would cease entirely shortly before the election.
===
The lists were shuffled aside and the governor moved another document in front of himself. It was another decree, one that granted citizenship to all refugees from Levant. The reasoning was on humanitarian grounds, with no questions asked about the religion of those enfranchised. It would only be adding a few thousand new voters, perhaps less than twenty thousand, perhaps a small number if taken in a vacuum.
However those refugees had concentrated among a few neighbourhoods in Alexandria, securing more ridings in the city for the AENC. The CAP had yet to officially condemn the massacres committed by the Kingdom of Jerusalem. It'd lose them support among the refugees.
===
"It's Macedonian guns that kill our people! It's Macedonian bullets that they fire when they drive us from our land! It's their money that funds the rogue state of Levant!"
In Alexandria the refugees from Levant held a protest outside the Macedonian embassy. A notable leader among them had organized it, taking to the streets to express their outrage at the crimes permitted to continue with Macedonian aid. The police were nowhere to be found, ordered not to stand in the way of the protest.
It would last well into the night as candlelight vigils were held. The calls for justices would keep everyone up until the wee hours of the morning when the last of the crowd finally went home as twilight dawned upon the capital. They would be back again by noon, and the cycle would continue until the election day had come. It did not gain much notice across the country until after the ballots had been drawn, but for those that participated it solidified their sense of community, and by extent, loyalty to the regime.
Venice may have once been an ally of Aragon, but it was no enemy of Palestinians, regardless of religion. Some among them suspected the true motives of the gesture, understanding it was part of a larger political play. If it gave them a voice they would accept it.
===
Jabari Nadir had finished doing his part to organize ballot counters across the country. It was less taxing of a process than one might have thought. The party head did not micro-manage every aspect of the local party branch, instead giving broad directions and advice on how to run such an operation. The details would be entrusted to local branches. They were the ones with boots on the ground.
The election would soon be upon them. Across the country hundreds of thousands of new voters were enrolled and to adequately accommodate them, the number of polling stations and ballot counters had to be expanded. The hiring spree the government had gone on gave plenty of opportunities for party members to end up in positions to handle votes once the time came. They wouldn't be outright altering votes or stuffing the boxes, merely losing some votes in competitive riding. It was fairer that way.
"Though what place does fairness have in such a system," Jabari muttered to himself, shaking such thoughts from his head. They were not rigging the election, if anything they were unrigging it and being quite conservative considering some of the options they had floated. It was a necessary compromise to avoid ruffling too many feathers. A notion which he found loathsome.
In a country of twelve million people, only fourteen percent were Coptic, and of that an even smaller percentage were even eligible to vote. Besides the religious requirements, one had to be a man twenty four years of age or older. In due time that would change, he was sure of it, when the All Egyptian National Congress took power in revolution.
The deal they had struck with the devil would last until they could end it, and end it on their terms. He had no illusions about their relationship. The party would hold in the face of Marcato's schemes, then he'd be cast aside into the dustbin of history where he belonged. Jabari was sure of it. It did little to undo the knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach. The election would soon be upon them. They'd done all they could to prepare, for victory or defeat. "We will win, God willing."
If not, then they would continue preparing and shake off their oppressors. Whatever the outcome they were committed.
===
In a hotel restaurant across the street from the governor's palace, Iskandar Drakos, cousin to the king, had lunch with several socialites. He was chatting loudly, easily heard over the general chatter of the restaurant, laughing uproariously and wildly gesturing as he spoke. The guests he was entertaining joined in, finding whatever yarn he was spinning an entertaining one. The truth of it mattered less than how he told it.
Across the restaurant Luca sat at his own table, the Venetian half-hearted reading a paper while glancing up at the Macedonian once in a while. He, and a few others had spent over a month observing the royal, tracking his movements and who he met with. It was an unfortunately boring task, much to Luca's chagrin. They'd yet to learn anything they didn't already know about Drakos. While he wasn't head of the party, he had a great deal of influence over it and was the power behind Psoy. It's upper ranks were filled with Macedonians that Drakos had brought over to aid him in building up a regime loyal to him first and foremost.
Iskandar's dinner party eventually came to an end. The guests went their different ways. Luca stood up from his table soon afterwards, dropping cash onto it as he left. He followed behind Drakos at a slow pace until the Macedonian reached the elevator and went in it. That's when Luca split off, taking the stairs up to his own hotel room located beside Iskandar's.
He waited several minutes in the stairway until he was certain that the Macedonian had reached his room. Opening the door to his floor, the hallway was empty, so Luca moved to his own room and went in. He quickly went to the wall to listen to it. A small hole that he'd drilled to the other side let him eavesdrop on any conversations within the neighbouring room, with only a bit of difficulty.
On the other side Drakos hummed a tune to himself. The large man was in a cheery and upbeat mood, and soon Luca knew why when a knock was heard at the door. 'A visitor,' he thought, 'maybe a lady friend? Could be a good lead for information.'
The door opened and shut quickly, whoever was the guest ushered inside quickly with hushed urgency. "It's been too long since I've last seen you, my little Argonaut," Iskandar quietly muttered to his guest.
"You miss me that much, my big, strong Heracles?" The voice was higher pitched, but husky, and youthful.
It took a moment for Luca to realize he recognized it. Eyes wide with surprise, he moved to the peephole and confirmed his suspicions as he saw Jason and Iskandar embrace each other. They held each other tightly as they locked lips, the smaller Greek enveloped in the arms of the larger Macedonian. They separated after several long seconds, breathing heavily as their faces flushed red with excitement.
Luca could only stare in disbelief until finally a grin worked its way onto his face. 'He's a homosexual. Oh, he's going to hang for this,' Luca thought. The question of whether that was literally or figuratively would be up to the governor. It'd be a scandal if it broke, and then some. That was exactly what they were hoping for, something they could use to blackmail Drakos.
"Does that answer that?' Drakos replied with a soft chuckle, hand trailing down the back of the Greek.
"It does. It's been too long," Jason said, leaning against him. "The governor's been acting out with all these decrees. I think they're meant to be a parting gift for you to sort out once you take office."
"We will deal with them in due time. They aren't disruptive," Drakos assured his lover. "We'll win handedly and secure our positions. Mina will aid in getting his people on board with our rule. That's when we'll transform this country into a true modern state, one where men like us can live without fear of being ourselves."
Jason hummed in approval, resting his head against the crook of Drakos's neck. "You make it sound like you're doing it all for me."
"You and the monuments of course," Drakos said with a chuckle. "It'll be a wedding present. Christos and Spiro would appreciate it too." The finer points of his policies were lost in the discussion as the two soon moved to the bed, eagerly disrobing with every step.
Luca stepped away from the peephole, having seen more than enough. He swallowed his distaste for the act and waited for them to finish, taking down notes as they spoke afterwards. That's when more names came up, revealing that a great deal of the Macedonian's inner circle were of a similar persuasion as him. All were convinced to risk their careers for the chance of building a 'Hellenic Republic' modeled after Ancient Greece, including decriminalizing homosexuality.
The finer details mattered little to Luca. The whole thing was a delusional obsession with the past to him, utterly irrelevant to the modern day. It was only relevant because men like Drakos and his cousin insisted on it.
While the couple laid with each other, Luca left his hotel room. The information would reach Marcato's ears.
===
In the governor's palace, on the eve of the election, Drakos was ushered inside Marcato's lounge. It was a spacious interior filled with fine wooden furniture with silk cushions imported from Venice. Marcato had been standing on the far side of the room, looking out onto the city through a window. He turned to regard Drakos with a narrowed gaze, annoyed that he had to be in the man's presence.
"Francesco, my friend," Drakos began, throwing his arms wide and smiling brilliantly.
"Marcato," Marcato corrected him. He stepped away from the window and walked to the back of a couch, keeping it and a coffee table between himself and Drakos.
Drakos held a hand to his chest, sighing in mock offense as if struck. "How you wound me so, my friend. Macedonia has not been your jailer but employer. Have we not been kind to you all these years? Have we not matched your pay and pension? Have we not catered to your every whim?" He laughed in approval even as he shook his head. "You are truly an incorrigible man! I like that about you. It'll be a shame to see you retire once this election is settled."
"Someone needs to have a spine around here. If not me, then who else?" Marcato retorted with a scoff. "You're a spoiled brat playing at prince in a foreign land to fulfill your childish flights of fancy. I've suffered it long enough."
"Oh have you now?" Drakos smiled in amusement, unperturbed by the remarks. He crossed his arms and cocked his hip to the side, motioning for Marcato to speak.
"I have. The twentieth century has ill need for monarchies like yourself. The modern era demands modern ideas. That's why I expect you to concede the election," Marcato bluntly demanded, corners of his lip curling into a snarl of disgust.
"Why would I do that?"
"To protect your reputation and that of your Argonaut," Marcato said, resting his hands on the couch. His eyes bored into Iskandar's, meeting the larger man's gaze unflinchingly. "I know about your relationship with Jason."
Shock and rage flashed across Drakos's face in an instance, recoiling backwards from the accusation. It took a second for his expression to settle into a grimace, glaring hard at the governor. His large, meaty hands began to curl and uncurl into fists, muscles bulging along his arms.
"Refrain from doing anything rash. I'm not the only one with this information," Marcato immediately informed him. He lifted his hands off the couch and took a step back as he raised a palm upwards, putting a touch more distance between them if Drakos attempted to lunge. "Attack me and your romantic preferences will be made known from Cairo to Kaapstad."
Drakos seethed as his face slowly turned red with rage. It took great control to breath in and out, until he could finally muster a terse response. "I see."
"I'm pleased that you do."
"What do you want then?"
"Egypt," Marcato immediately replied, clenching his hand before pointing at Drakos. "You are to concede the election, leave the country, pull your support from the Christian Alliance party, and take your entourage of queer lackeys with you as you go. You do that and this will remain a secret."
The gears in the Macedonian's head turned, attempting to find clarity among the outrage. His gaze fell to the coffee table in front of him, staring through it, until he looked back up. "I am royalty, I could survive such accusations. It'd be a sensation for a week before the next rumor distracted the world's attention."
"Perhaps you would, but would Jason?" Marcato tilted his head. "Need I remind you that the penalty for homosexuality ranges from castration, imprisonment, and death."
Drakos's rage boiled over as the man cried out in anger, grabbing a vase off the table and throwing it into a wall, shattering it. Marcato flinched, reflexively ducking before realizing he wasn't the target. "Damn you! Damn you, you heartless bastard!" He rounded on Marcato, pointing a shaking finger at the governor. "Have you no soul?! No empathy or love for your fellow man?! That you would use a man's love for another as leverage! You are shameless, devoid of humanity! How dare you!"
Tears rolled down his face as his body heaved with every word, breathing hard. "There is nothing wrong with the love for another man. It is the purest expression of philia, of companionship born between two people who share one soul between them. If you are truly so heartless that you'd threaten that, then I will agree to your terms, you beast in human clothing."
Marcato adjusted his suit, taking a moment to dust it off. A pointless gesture meant to return a sense of control over the situation. "I'm pleased that we could come to an understanding. You have my word."
With that Drakos turned and left with a huff, slamming the door behind him.
Does Marcato keep his word?
[ ] Yes it remains a secret
Marcato achieved his aim of removing Iskandar Drakos from Egyptian politics. There's no need to ruin the man's life. The threat is more than enough leverage.
[ ] No it'll be revealed after the election
Marcato knows the type of news it'd generate to publish the information once the election has concluded. It'd ruin multiple people's lives, possibly resulting in their deaths, but is guaranteed to cause a scandal among Macedonian royalty.
===
After months of work, the election was finally upon Egypt. Hundreds of thousands of new voters rushed to the polls for the first time. It was the largest in the country's history and resulted in a landmark result.
The All Egyptian Nation Congress had won by 54%.
The expected push back from the Christian Alliance Party did not materialize, as Mina Psoy, at Drakos's urging, conceded defeat. That took the wind out of the party's sails, forestalling any organized resistance to the upset. The results were bitterly accepted. Thus the All Egyptian National Congress was invited by Governor Marcato to form a government, which it more than happily did.
The party has prevailed. David Hakim enters history as the first Jewish and Socialist Prime Minister of Egypt. Now would come the difficult part: actually ruling.