Of Kings and Demons by George Han

meeting was botched up
and the environmental group engaged a tough lawyer in Patricia Fletcher from
New York. The case had to be referred to the federal courts, as a judgment was
required. Maxi Oil had to bear the costs of the environmental damage. The oil
company was ordered to pay $550 million in damages. The judgment cast a grey
cloud over everything in Victor’s life, including his rising political
fortunes.
    Although his shares in Maxi Oil
were registered under his half-brother’s name, it was only a matter of time
before the press began pounding his door for an explanation. Moreover, the
sheer size of the damages would be a fatal blow to the financial health of Maxi
Oil. It had just committed over half-a-billion in drilling concessions in
Africa and Asia.
    Despite his usual façade of confidence,
Victor was disturbed the issue would cast blight on his illustrious career.
Chris has assured him the problems would be ironed out in due course. It was
not the most reassuring of answers and the Senate session break gave him the
opportunity to focus on resolving the budding problem himself. He needed to get
Maxi Oil out of the way, out of his political career.
    His aides had suggested a
brainstorming session over dinner, but solitude was all he needed and so he had
all of them sent away. He had to clear the clutter in his mind and find the
solutions.
    On the eve of the Senate break,
Victor was back at his countryside house at Richmond. He had inherited the
property from his father, a successful broker on Wall Street. It was one of
those things in life that he was truly grateful for, a beautiful property. In
fact, Victor had many things to be thankful about.
    He never remembered that he had
to work very hard for anything he craved— academic honours, his first car, his
first job, a beautiful wife, and a booming political career.
    On the Hill, he had earned a
strong reputation by cleverly positioning himself a budget hawk, anticrime
toughie. On foreign policy, Victor Palmer earned the nickname of warrior for
his tough stand on the military deployment in Central Asia and Japan.
Inevitably, being strong and compassionate on domestic policy and experienced
on the foreign front had invited suggestions of him being a forerunner for the
Republican presidential nomination in 2020.
    Victor had the track record and
pedigree that the party needed in a strong candidate. He had the experience of
a middle-of-road conservative who would appeal to the middle class and senior
age groups that looked for stability in a president. After twelve rocky years
of Democratic presidency, the country looked set to hand the keys of the White
House to a Republican.
    Now before he considered
putting up a serious bid, Victor knew he had to handle the immediate political
toxic called Maxi Oil before it consumed his career. The presidency seemed
remote, if not beyond him, for now.
    Victor had washed up and was
headed for a quiet dinner when his aide, Jean, reminded him of an appointment.
    “You must be joking,” he said. “It’s
my break. I thought I said I wanted the evening free?”
    “Actually, Mr. Joe Bianco has
been calling you for the whole week. I reminded you on Tuesday and you asked
him to come over.”
    Victor slapped his forehead. “How
could I forget? It’s Joey.”
    Joe Bianco was an attorney and
worked for Victor when Victor ran for Congress. That was more than a decade earlier.
Joe left Palmer’s staff in the second term to pursue a career in the corporate
world. Irregularly, Victor had heard from the man, but nothing more than
dinners every few months or so. Victor had to deliberate hard before he remembered
their last meeting was the Democratic convention meeting, twelve months earlier.
     “Bring him in,” Palmer said.
    “Do you want me to take notes?”
    Victor shook his head. “Leave
us. I don’t expect anything substantial.”
    Victor met his old-time subordinate
in the living room, a spacious, oak-paneled hall with a high