//------------------------------//
// Brent 
// Story: Politics 
// by Dai Kirai 
//------------------------------//

	Stephen Brent walked up the pearl white steps of the Capitol Building. His heart pounded and hands shook, trepidation mixed with anticipation. It may only be an internship and a low paying one at that, but it was his first actual job out of college and for the esteemable Senator Eric Lyth who had been serving for the past twenty years. The steps themselves though inanimate carried a vast history leading to its storied halls. 
“Breathe.” The lanky man told himself. “They are just people… with power. That can help or hinder those under them.” Political theory had taught Brent that not all these people were there to help, but he would not let a few bad apples spoil his opinion. Afterall, the world kept moving forward to a better place. These pure steps still filled him with awe, which didn’t abate as he got inside the building and headed off to the west wing. 
The entrance was a giant dome making him feel incredibly small gold and red everywhere, massive windows, a milieu of people. Another room was just as large but filled with paintings larger than he was. It felt like forever and repeated looking at his map to find the proper location and even longer to get verified and pass through security. Eventually though, he found the proper part of the building with its aged wooden desk and a petite blonde woman sitting behind the desk. 
“You must be the new intern.” The plaque said her name was Monique, who never looked away from the computer screen she was clacking away on with long pink fingernails. “The Senator has been informed you are here and will meet with you presently to discuss what you will be doing. Please take a seat.”
The reception area was three times the size of his old dorm room with a desk bigger than his old bed. Then again, the red velvet seat he now sat on to wait probably cost more than his old beat up car. Everything about this place is grand. Then again you have to work hard to get here and that clout really helps in negotiation. Brent fumbled with the handle of his new briefcase while he sat there waiting while his suit itched. 
“Mr. Brent. Senator Lyth will see you now.” Monique still never looked up from her computer screen. 
The young man stood breathlessly and walked to the solid wood door. The knob turn while the door slid open like butter, impressive for what had to be such a heavy object. 
Inside, was the most expensive place he had ever seen, rich wood that was a striated mix of black and white. There were several men his age and older positioned around the desk with paper, and behind the desk sat a man almost exactly Brent’s opposite. Lyth had balding head which sat atop a corpulent frame. 
“Good. New intern.” Lyth shuffled around some papers. “Here it is,” the others stepped back for a moment. “I need you to find some statistics to block these new education reforms. Anything will do so long as it sounds nice.”
“But sir, is that wise?” Brent held the paper in his hands, it was a proposal to reduce the funds for school lunches. 
“Listen you nob. Your place is to do your job or be fired.” Cold grey eyes stared into Brent. “My ‘colleague’ will get a new contract in this deal, one with a better outcome. It’s politics, get used to it.”
“. . .” Brent stared down at the stack and flipped through a few pages. “What about the ‘Life Act’ from a decade ago? The job training and housing for the homeless.”
“That was an election year, this isn’t.” The matter of fact tone froze something in Brent’s stomach. “We couldn’t just truck them all off to California, as if they’d notice a few extra people. It cleaned up some of the streets along the business district and got those bleeding heart liberals off my back.” Lyth turned his head back to the desk, looking at more papers. “Now are you going to get started or do I need to find a new ‘research assistant’?”
Brent lowered his gaze to the lush carpet. “Right away sir.”


***


Brent rested his head on the cool  desk. It was small and cheap but it qualified as an office with a door. Piles of paperwork sat around the five foot square room illuminated by a fluorescent ceiling light. The red lights of the clock clicked to 5:20. It had been a long day that was nowhere near over. Between the computer and different articles he had been able to find in assembled binders, there wasn’t anything he felt comfortable with submitting. “These numbers are so weak. Unless I lie this will never float.” His head lifted only for the young intern to slam it back down on the table. Again. Again. Maybe I’m not cut out for this. By the time I have the clout to affect change… Stephen slammed his head again, knowing eventually what he would become. 
“What if you had a way to not only depose Senator Lyth but to make a name for yourself?” 
Stephen jumped to his feet, or most of the way there as the wall caught the chair short. He looked around the room, still the only person there.
The voice came again, thick and oily but from inside his head. “If you can expose him as corrupt, you can make a name with the people. What’s more, if you can prove he was manipulating others Senators and make THEM look good at the same time…”
“I would get their approval.” Stephen thought about it for a few moments. “You know where to find this proof?”
“Of course.” It purred.
“What would you get out of this?” The hair was raising up on his neck. Is this some kind of a joke or test?
“Relax. I am part of you. I am only here to help you and your young wife. How far along is she?”
Brent’s blood ran cold. Who is this? Really? You aren’t me.
“Hmmm.” The voice went quiet for a minute, long enough for Stephen to think it was time to quit for the day if he was already hallucinating voices. “Someone who wants to change the power structure of this country.”
Fine. Stephen thought, realizing it could communicate with his thoughts. But I reserve the right to terminate this deal at any time.
“Of course. Of course.”
Now tell me your name!
“Call me Tirek.” 


***


Senator Brent watched the television as the second tower fell, he felt hollow inside. “She’s dead.” There was no emotion, no one around to hear him. He had ‘requested’ to be left alone.
“You could have saved her.” The familiar voice of Tirek beckoned. 
“No I couldn’t have.” He watched as the tower fell. 
“I told you it would happen.”
“But not the how or the who. There was no actionable evidence.”
I HATE YOU!!! The voice of a little girl echoed in his years. They had a fight about all the time he spent at work. She wanted a tea party. 
“You could have stopped her from going.”
Brent felt his shoulders sagging. He and Diane would be divorced by now if it weren’t for his needed image, this just guaranteed it. The Senator stood from his chair, grabbed the remote in a clenched fist and threw it through the television. 
No one came in the office, Stephen Brent expected nothing else of his staff. Unless he called for help they would leave him be for the day and probably the rest of the week. 
“No.” Brent set his jaw and cleared a space of his desk, a wonderful blackwood creation that an old ‘compatriot’ has rather prized. “We must look forward.” He pulled out a pad and some paper. “The question is, how can we use this?”