It was almost eleven at night.
President Morgan Cross sat alone in his office. A glass of wine rested in front of him. On the table lay the projector—silent. On the wall hung the flag of the United Ameron. A deep navy-blue background with bright golden stars arranged across it, a white stripe at the center—like a reflection of another sky. As he looked at the flag, there was sadness in his eyes.
There was a knock on the door.
"Enter."
General Crane walked in. He stepped inside and stood still. When the President gestured, he sat down.
The General said, "Sir, you called for me?"
Swirling the wine glass slowly, the President said, "General, do you know who we work for?"
The General looked slightly surprised. "Sir? We work for Imolodia. For you."
The President gave a faint smile. A sorrowful smile. "No, General. We don't work for Imolodia. We don't even work for me. We work for that country."
He pointed toward the flag on the wall.
The General said, "United Ameron? Sir, they're our allies."
The President suddenly burst into loud laughter. The sound echoed through the room. Then he stopped abruptly and said, "Allies? No, General. They are our masters. We are their servants. Do you want to know what really happens?"
The General remained silent.
The President stood up. He walked to the window and looked outside. Then he began—
"United Ameron. The most powerful state on Earth. Do you know how big they are? Their capital is Columbia City. A white city built on seven hills. Their area is 9.8 million square kilometers. Population: 340 million. Their GDP is 28 trillion dollars—about 25% of the world's total."
The General listened in astonishment.
The President continued, "Their military budget is one trillion dollars a year. More than the combined budgets of the next ten countries. They have more than 800 military bases in 80 countries around the world. They possess 5,800 nuclear weapons. Eleven aircraft carriers—more than the rest of the world combined. Over thirteen thousand combat aircraft."
The General whispered, "That powerful?"
The President turned around. "Powerful? They are the symbol of power. Their President is James R. McAllister. A PhD in economics from Harvard. Extremely strategic, influential, and ruthless. Their Secretary of State, Jonathan H. Rice—you've seen him. He used to be a professor at Yale. Unmatched in diplomacy, yet a ruthless strategist. Their Defense Secretary, General William H. Harper—former head of the Pentagon. Their intelligence chief, Marcus D. Blackwood—the former director of the CIA."
He returned to the table and sat down, taking another sip of wine.
"But none of them are the real power, General. The real power lies in the hands of the Council of Seven."
The General looked stunned. "Seven?"
The President nodded. "Yes. A council of seven. They never appear in public. No one knows their names. There are no photos of them. They communicate through holograms via a projector."
He looked at the projector on the table. "Through this projector, I speak with them. Whoever they want becomes president. Whoever they don't want is destroyed. They are the heads of the military–industrial complex, the bankers of Wall Street, the tech emperors of Silicon Valley, the gray eminences of intelligence agencies, the oil kings, the owners of the media, the entertainment barons of Hollywood—together, they run the world."
The General's face turned pale. "Sir… you're saying we work for them?"
The President let out a harsh laugh. "We don't just work for them, General. We are their puppets. They created us. They gave us technology. They gave us money. They made me president. And whenever they wish, they can destroy us."
The General said, "Sir, then the anti-matter technology? They took it."
The President replied, "They did. But not for Ameron. It's for those seven. Ameron is only their tool. They want that technology in their hands. Now they have it. Now they will become even stronger. They will expand their dominance even further."
The General asked, "Sir, can't we do anything?"
The President sighed deeply. "What can be done, General? Going against them would be suicide. Their army, their economy, their intelligence agencies—everything is so powerful that no one can truly challenge them. They are not the police of the world—they are the owners of it."
Looking out through the window, he said, "Look at the stars on their flag. Each star represents a region under their control. Wherever their flag flies, their laws rule. Their movies, their music, their fashion—everything spreads across the world. They control our minds as well."
He sat down again. "Do you know, General, that the best students in the world study in their universities? Harvard, Yale, Stanford, MIT—those are theirs. Every year, more than a million international students come to study in their country. Their technology companies—Google, Apple, Microsoft, Amazon—control 90% of the world's cloud services. Hollywood films capture 70% of the global box office."
The General said quietly, "Sir… then we have no path left?"
The President closed his eyes. "Perhaps there is a path. But to find it, we must first recognize the enemy. And now you recognize the enemy. Their name is United Ameron. They are the most powerful state on Earth. Behind them stands the Council of Seven. And we… we are merely pieces on a chessboard."
Silence filled the room.
The General sat with his head lowered. A new reality was forming in his eyes. He realized that even the country he served, the one he was ready to die for, was itself under the control of a greater power.
Three months later
The President of United Ameron, James McAllister, announced at a massive press conference that they had successfully acquired anti-matter technology. They now possessed the most powerful weapon on Earth.
After the press conference, a holographic meeting of the Council of Seven was convened. Around the table were seven indistinct shadows.
One of them said, "The technology is in our hands. Now we can do whatever we want."
Another said, "Imolodia is no longer necessary. Should we keep President Cross?"
A third one laughed. "What's the point? He knows everything. He could become dangerous."
A fourth said, "Cross was loyal to us. But he knows too much—that is his death sentence."
A fifth said, "Take care of it tonight."
A sixth asked, "Who will be the new president of Imolodia?"
The seventh replied, "General Crane. He doesn't know anything. He will be a good puppet for us."
The meeting ended.
That night, an explosion occurred at the palace in Imolodia. President Morgan Cross was found dead in his office. The official statement said he had died of a heart attack.
The next day, General Crane took the oath as president. In his first speech, he expressed loyalty to United Ameron.
He said, "Imolodia will always remain a faithful ally of United Ameron."
No one ever knew what President Cross's last words were.
No one knew that, that night in the dark room of the palace, he had been sitting alone. On the table lay an old photograph. A picture of the seven.
He had whispered, "You are powerful. You own the world. But history says every empire eventually falls. That day will come."
Then he closed his eyes.
And he never opened them again.