فصل 25

Chapter 25: King Quentin

Over the next week King Quentin and the other Glows moved from the Faraday into the royal palace, which, by Elgen standards, was modest and in need of renovation. Quentin, at Hatch’s instruction, began building his cabinet—a group of counselors—to help him run the nation.

Early on the morning of the eighth day, Quentin was in his office looking over a résumé when Tara walked in. She sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. “Are you growing a beard?” Quentin looked up. “Yes. What do you think?”

Tara nodded. “It looks kingly,” she said. “So how does it feel to be a king?” “It’s not what I thought it would be,” he said, his voice dull. “You get these pictures in your head of what it’s supposed to be like—probably from old King Arthur movies. But the truth is, it’s mostly just interviewing people and paperwork. I mean, look at what I’m sitting on. It’s an office chair. What I need is a throne, one of those big, red velvet chairs with gold leafing and a tall back carved in the shape of a lion’s head.” “Yeah,” Tara said. “And a scepter.”

“I have no idea what a scepter is for,” Quentin said, grinning. “But you’re right. I need one.” Tara laughed. “And a court jester. You’ve got to have one of those.”

“I’d need a court first,” Quentin said. “And we’ve got Bryan, right?” They both laughed. “What I really need is a crown. It’s iconic. Nothing says ‘king’ like a crown.” “Exactly,” Tara said. “Every king needs a crown. What kind would you get—one of the pointy ones, or the more roundish kind with red velvet on top?” “I don’t care. As long as it’s made of pure gold and inset with a few million worth of jewels.” Just then Dr. Hatch walked into the room. “So it’s a crown you covet,” he said.

Quentin flushed. “Sorry, sir. We were just being . . . stupid.”

“If every fool wore a crown, everyone would be king,” Hatch said. He sat down, glancing over to Tara. “Would you excuse us, please?” “Yes, sir,” Tara said, immediately standing.

“See you,” Quentin said.

After she was gone, Hatch said, “Quentin, have you wondered why I would make you king of a tiny nation when I could have just as easily turned all of the Tuvaluans into slaves?” “Yes, sir. I have.”

“This is not a kingdom,” he said. “It is your classroom. These backward natives are not subjects; they are practice. If you are to rule millions, you must first learn to rule thousands. Kingship is an art to be mastered—like the foil or the chessboard—and the only certainty of kingship is that someone is always standing behind the throne, waiting to take your seat. If you wish to maintain a throne, there are certain rules that must be followed.” “What are those, sir?”

“The greatest threat to a dictator is not from without but from within. The first rule is, you must keep your subjects divided. A united people is a smoldering revolution. A divided people is a conquered people.” “How do I do that?” Quentin asked.

“You make them hate one another. Before World War Two, Hitler was amazed and disgusted by the hate the German people exercised toward one another. He harnessed their animosity and directed it to his own ends.” Quentin took out a pad of paper. “Do you mind if I take notes?”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t,” Hatch said.

Quentin set his pen to the paper. “How do I make them hate each other?” “You begin by teaching them that they have been wronged by one another—that they are victims of a grave injustice—and encourage them to embrace their victimhood.” “What if they haven’t been wronged?”

“Everyone has been wronged,” Hatch said. “Everyone. And if you can’t find a potent enough current injustice, then borrow someone else’s. Find one that happened to someone else long ago and make your citizen a supposed crusader for justice. Imbue them with a sense of moral superiority as they trample the rights of others beneath their feet. Righteous indignation is the alibi of mobs and murderers.” Hatch leaned back in his seat. “Unfortunately, the Tuvaluan people are of the same race and culture, as cultural disparity is the easiest way to divide a nation. But divisions in humanity can always be found. Turn men against women and women against men. Divide the young from the old, the rich from the poor, the educated from the uneducated, the religious from the nonreligious, the privileged from the underprivileged. Teach them to shame others and to use shame as a tool to their own ends.

“Make the ridiculous ideal of ‘equality’ their rallying cry. Let them get so caught up in their supposed moral superiority that they’d rather see all men grovel in poverty than rise in differing levels of prosperity.

“Do not let them see that there has never been nor ever will be true equality, in property or rights. Equality is not the nature of the world or even the universe. Even if you could guarantee everyone the same wealth, humans would reject the idea. They would simply find a different standard to create castes, as there will always be differences in intelligence, physical strength, and beauty.

“Don’t worry if your propaganda is true or false. Truth is subjective. It’s as easy to tell a big lie as it is a small one. And any lie told enough will be regarded as truth. In dividing the young from the old, do not teach the youths the error of their elders’ ways, as they may see through your propaganda. Instead, mock their elders. Mocking requires neither proof nor truth, as it feeds the fool’s ego. You will see that when it comes to the masses, the stupider the individual, the more they want to prove it to the world.

“The second rule is to keep the people distracted from the weightier and more complex matters of liberty and justice. Keep them obsessed by their amusements—just as the Roman emperor Commodus gave the Roman people games to distract them from his poor leadership. A championship soccer team may do more to ease a public’s suffering than a dozen social programs. If your subjects can name a movie star’s dog but not the president of their country, you have no need to fear.

“The third rule is to teach them not to trust one another. An ancient proverb says, ‘Kings have many ears and many eyes.’ You must build a web of informants from within the population. Openly reward those who report on their neighbors. If your subjects don’t know who is an informant and who isn’t, they will never risk speaking their grievances.” Quentin finished writing, then looked up. “Thank you, sir.”

“You will learn,” Hatch said, “that human nature is a game. Learn to control the few, and you will someday control the masses.” Hatch stood. “Give them hate. Give them games.” “I will start this afternoon.”

“Very well.” He took a step toward the door, then turned back. “I like the beard. Work on it.” “Thank you, sir.”

As soon as Hatch walked out of his office, Quentin called his new minister of public planning. “I want to build a stadium.”