There was essentially no functioning government in Florida.
Or, to be more precise, there wasn’t even a proper organization that could genuinely call itself a government. At best, there was a makeshift, loosely affiliated council desperately claiming authority, and the deeply entrenched underground network previously established by Nemo.
Still, if one absolutely had to point to a single entity capable of officially representing the entirety of Florida right now, it would be the coalition council formed by the prominent leaders of the slave rebellion, a handful of Spanish collaborators, and the key operatives of the underground network.
And following an incredibly brief, highly decisive meeting, that exact council reached a unanimous conclusion.
Alonso Garcia, who was currently serving as the rotating representative of the council for this session, formally addressed the room.
“It appears every single person gathered here, myself included, is in complete agreement.”
At his words, every single representative firmly nodded their heads and raised their hands in unison.
It was a completely unanimous vote.
And so, they officially voted to formally integrate Florida into the Virginia Community.
In truth, this monumental decision hadn’t actually been made during the hasty 37-minute meeting that had just concluded.
This decision had been firmly cemented during the absolute final moments of the recent war.
The exact moment ‘His’ body was violently incinerated, only to miraculously and impossibly resurrect from the dirt and ashes of the battlefield.
In that terrifying, awe-inspiring moment, every single person currently sitting in this room had fallen to their knees and violently bowed before ‘Him.’ The vote had effectively been cast right then and there.
And naturally, it had been a completely unanimous vote.
With the ultimate fate of Florida decisively settled, time rapidly marched forward.
Historically, Florida had been established by the Spanish Empire almost exclusively for the strategic purpose of ‘Defending the Caribbean’ and ‘Checking the Expansion of Virginia.’ Any economic profit generated by the colony was considered a secondary, almost irrelevant concern.
Largely abandoned and neglected by the imperial mainland, the Spanish slave owners had utilized the massive influx of enslaved African labor provided by the Viceroyalty to cultivate cash crops like fruit and cotton, or to raise vast herds of cattle and horses to line their own pockets.
It was then the explicit responsibility of the Spanish merchant fleets to continuously exchange those cultivated cash crops and livestock for hard currency and vital, everyday necessities.
However, in the wake of the massive rebellion, the Spanish merchant fleets completely ceased all operations in the region.
The liberated African slaves were suddenly left entirely stranded and completely isolated in this massive territory.
For the time being, they were forced to desperately maintain the sprawling plantations previously operated by their dead masters, hastily cultivate their own meager vegetable patches, or barter heavily with the local Native American tribes just to secure enough food to survive.
And to make matters infinitely worse, a massive, utterly devastating war had just violently swept through their already fragile infrastructure.
It was an environment fundamentally guaranteed to breed absolute, crushing poverty and mass starvation.
While the immediate, physical fighting in the region had largely concluded, an enormous portion of the Floridian population was currently starving to death. They desperately, urgently needed external assistance.
Furthermore, hadn’t they already formally requested to be fully integrated into the Virginia Community anyway?
Consequently, following an official decree issued by the Council of Six, Manteo was dispatched directly to Florida as an official envoy.
Up until this exact moment, there hadn’t been a single, solitary issue.
The maritime voyage down the coast had been perfectly peaceful, the massive stockpile of vital relief supplies had arrived completely intact, and the sailors and fellow envoys accompanying him were highly dependable veterans.
Even after officially arriving in San Agustín, there hadn’t been any notable problems. Both the local garrison soldiers and the heads of the new provisional government had welcomed him with open arms. Naturally, the countless starving civilians swarming the docks to receive the desperately needed relief supplies practically worshipped him as a literal savior.
And then.
“…”
“…”
“…”
Manteo’s finely honed, hyper-sensitive political instincts suddenly screamed that he was completely and utterly fucked.
“A-Ah… Ahahaha, may I ask why exactly you are inquiring about the Native American tribes residing in this specific vicinity?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just wondering, are you familiar with the Apalachee tribe?”
“Of course I am familiar with them, but…”
“Then that is all I need to know.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
He honestly had no idea how the conversation had suddenly veered in this terrifying direction, but while casually chatting with some of the locals, the topic of the Native American tribes residing within Florida was brought up. It seemed they were attempting to casually discuss exactly what role those specific tribes had played during the recent ‘Revolution.’
In that exact moment, the atmosphere in the room violently plummeted below freezing.
Manteo quickly glanced at the Native American administrative clerks who had accompanied him from Virginia. Beneath their expertly maintained, stoic bureaucratic masks, he could feel an incredibly dark, volatile emotion violently simmering.
And that suppressed, suffocating emotion was rapidly infecting the entire room with a heavy, deeply unsettling sense of creeping anxiety.
When was the last time I felt this exact, specific brand of terrifying anxiety? Ah. Right. I’ve actually felt this exact same terrifying anxiety countless times before. Because…
—”Manteo, my dear friend. I am terribly ignorant regarding the incredibly complex, highly nuanced internal politics of the various Native American tribes… could I perhaps ask you to handle this delicate matter?”
—”Mr. Manteo? If it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, could you possibly advise us on how to gracefully resolve this violent inter-tribal conflict?”
—”Manteo, please handle this. It seems a massive misunderstanding has erupted between those two tribes due to a slight linguistic mistranslation…”
Literally every single person in the Virginia government constantly dumped these agonizingly complex, highly volatile inter-tribal conflicts squarely onto his shoulders.
Simply because he happened to be the one and only Native American serving as an Apostle on the Council of Six.
…Recalling those deeply traumatizing memories made him feel as though he were chewing on gravel, but he couldn’t quite articulate exactly why he felt so profoundly offended by it.
If he had possessed the futuristic knowledge to experience the specific brand of modern racism where an Asian employee is casually greeted with ‘Konnichiwa’ and then immediately forced by the ‘Asian Affairs Department’ to simultaneously analyze both the Vietnamese and Arab markets simply because they are ‘Asian’… his reaction might have been slightly different.
However, he tragically lacked that specific futuristic context. Consequently, Manteo simply felt profoundly, inexplicably offended without fully understanding exactly why he was so offended.
Regardless, the hyper-refined political instincts violently forged through years of being the designated ‘dumping ground’ for every single inter-tribal crisis were currently blaring loud warning sirens in his head.
It fiercely reminded him of the chaotic era years ago, when massive waves of desperate Native American refugees were fleeing northward, violently exacerbating inter-tribal conflicts across the region. It reminded him of the exact moment Lord Nemo had recklessly charged into a blazing, collapsing longhouse to personally rescue the Grand Chief of the Tutelo tribe.
After Lord Nemo had delivered that spectacular, incredibly moving speech that day, Manteo was the one who had been immediately dumped with the agonizingly complex, politically fraught task of actually cleaning up the mess and officially mediating the countless treaties between the warring tribes… but he digressed.
It was the exact same, terrifyingly tense atmosphere he had frequently felt back then.
This was…
The undeniable prelude to a massive, violent conflict.
Hmm. Just as I suspected. This is…
“Lord Nemo, what are your thoughts on this delicate matter?”
This is absolutely not something I can cleanly resolve on my own.
Having firmly reached that absolute conclusion, Manteo immediately sought out Nemo to deliver a highly urgent report.
“It appears that several of the Native American tribes who previously joined our Virginia community harbor an incredibly deep-seated, incredibly violent animosity toward the Native American tribes currently residing in this specific region of Florida, my lord.
As you are well aware, many of the tribes who ultimately joined our community in the distant north were violently driven from their ancestral homelands precisely because these Floridian tribes allied with the Spanish and acted as their ruthless mercenaries, were they not?
Given the current political trajectory, it seems highly likely that Florida will soon be fully integrated into our community. How exactly should we proceed with this incredibly volatile situation?”
It was a perfectly concise, highly accurate summary of the looming political crisis. As Manteo internally patted himself on the back for his flawlessly logical explanation, Nemo’s expression slowly morphed into one of profound, agonizing ambivalence.
Manteo instantly felt another terrifying wave of ominous anxiety wash over him.
And then… exactly as he always did whenever he was desperately agonizing over an impossible problem, Nemo slowly stroked his chin with his right hand…
“I believe we must approach this highly sensitive issue with extreme, meticulous caution, Manteo.”
Just as I suspected. It was the exact, highly evasive phrase Nemo always deployed whenever he was faced with a situation where he ‘absolutely did not want to make a firm decision right now, didn’t feel any immediate, pressing urgency to resolve it, yet couldn’t completely ignore it either.’ “…With extreme caution, my lord?”
“Yes. Please conduct a highly thorough, incredibly detailed investigation into the fundamental roots of this specific conflict.”
“…”
“I am entrusting this highly critical task entirely to you, Manteo.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Heavily dropping his head in utter defeat, Manteo had absolutely no choice but to leave the office without having accomplished a single damn thing.
“L-Lord Manteo! Right now, just outside…!”
And naturally, exactly as his instincts had predicted, a massive, violent incident erupted almost immediately.
“So… let me make sure I understand this correctly. Exactly what happened out there?” Nemo asked, rubbing his temples in exasperation. Oitotan casually replied.
“Well, you see that Knight over there? The one currently being restrained? He is a warrior of the Muscogee tribe. He originally hailed from a region located slightly north of this current territory.”
“I see.”
“While casually patrolling the streets, he accidentally crossed paths with that man over there.”
Oitotan lazily pointed his finger at the two men currently glaring murderous daggers at each other.
“It seems the Muscogee Knight casually asked the man in Spanish where he lived and what brought him to this specific city. Just making polite, harmless small talk to pass the time, you see. And so…”
“Please, just skip to the conclusion, Oitotan.”
“The Knight immediately attempted to brutally murder that man in the middle of the street.”
“…Please rewind and explain the sequence of events leading up to that conclusion.”
According to Oitotan’s exasperated explanation, the situation had unfolded exactly like this:
Knight A, a warrior of the Muscogee tribe, had casually struck up a conversation with Local B, a Native American residing in the immediate vicinity. During their polite exchange, Knight A innocently asked which specific tribe Local B belonged to.
The Apalachee tribe.
The exact same tribe that had proudly allied with the Spanish Empire, eagerly acted as their ruthless mercenaries, and violently driven the Muscogee tribe entirely out of their ancestral homelands at the direct behest of the Spanish.
Upon hearing that single word, Knight A immediately turned to Local B and…
“He formally challenged him to a brutal Trial by Combat, staking his sacred honor as a Knight and swearing upon the holy name of the Lord.”
“Pardon?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Uh… excuse me?”
“Yes.”
“…”
A Native American warrior had just formally challenged another Native American warrior to a strictly European, medieval Trial by Combat.
Desperately shaking their heads to violently banish the utterly absurd, completely immersion-breaking mental image from their minds, Manteo and Nemo forced themselves to focus back on Oitotan’s report.
“Anyway, I immediately intervened and physically restrained the Knight before he could draw his blade.”
“You did an excellent job, Oitotan. Seriously, we need to do something about this ridiculous, delusional ‘Knight’ obsession…”
“I sternly informed him that formally challenging an unarmed civilian who isn’t even a recognized Knight to a sacred Trial by Combat while staking his ‘Knightly Honor’ was an absolute, disgraceful violation of the chivalric code.”
“…”
Watching Nemo’s face instantly harden into a terrifying, rigid scowl of pure, unadulterated stress, Manteo let out a heavy, exhausted sigh.
“…Lord Nemo, it appears the highly volatile conflict I warned you about has officially breached the surface significantly faster than anticipated.”
“…”
“How exactly should we proceed with this crisis, my lord?”
At Manteo’s direct question, Nemo’s eyes began to dart around the room in absolute, frantic desperation. He blinked rapidly several times, fiercely glared at the absolute moron who had just challenged a civilian to a ‘Trial by Combat,’ and finally…
“For an incredibly delicate, highly complex political issue such as this, we must urgently seek the counsel of a seasoned expert,” Nemo declared, letting out a heavy, defeated sigh.
“Let us go find Raleigh.”
***
“…And that is the exact, highly volatile situation we are currently facing. How do you propose we handle this, Walter?”
The exact moment he heard Nemo’s frantic explanation, an incredibly dark, deeply cynical thought flashed through Raleigh’s mind like a bolt of lightning.
‘Divide and rule.’ ‘If you simply eradicate one of the two opposing factions entirely, the conflict magically disappears.’ …
…
…
…He honestly had absolutely no idea why such a horrifyingly ruthless thought had suddenly popped into his head. It felt as though the deeply ingrained, terrifyingly pragmatic voices of his colonialist and imperialist ancestors flowing through his very blood were whispering sweet, sinister advice directly into his ear.
Regardless, Raleigh violently shook his head, forcefully banishing the horrifyingly intrusive thoughts from his mind before finally answering.
“This is indeed an incredibly difficult predicament, my lord.”
“Yes, it is completely, utterly exhausting,” Nemo sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair.
“First of all, based on my extensive, highly detailed conversations with the various individuals currently comprising the makeshift provisional government of Florida… the absolute vast majority of them desperately wish to be formally integrated into our community.”
From Raleigh’s incredibly pragmatic perspective, that was a blindingly obvious, inevitable conclusion. The chances of a newly liberated, severely impoverished Florida successfully surviving a massive, full-scale naval and military retaliation from the entire Spanish Empire entirely on their own were practically zero.
Even if one entirely disregarded those glaringly obvious, highly pragmatic geopolitical reasons, if they had genuinely, truly witnessed the ‘Miracle’ with their own two eyes…
How could they possibly resist the overwhelming, divine urge to be fully embraced within Lord Nemo’s holy sphere of influence?
As Raleigh firmly nodded his head in agreement with his own internal logic, Nemo continued speaking.
“However, if they are formally integrated into our community and join our centralized government, how exactly are we supposed to handle the ensuing political fallout?
It will be practically impossible to smoothly stitch this violent, deeply entrenched animosity back together like we did ‘that time,’ won’t it?”
He was absolutely right.
The primary reason they had been able to successfully mediate and permanently resolve the explosive, violent conflict between the Catawba, the Tutelo, and the various other warring tribes years ago was partially because Lord Nemo had miraculously and selflessly thrown his own body into a blazing inferno to forcefully pacify them, but…
Fundamentally, the absolute most critical factor was that every single one of those tribes was currently starving to death, freezing in the winter, and utterly desperate to survive, forcing them to completely submit and rely entirely on the community for their very survival.
However, what about the Native American tribes currently residing in Florida?
“They do not currently require any immediate, desperate assistance from us. No, in fact, they possess absolutely zero interest in our very existence. And yet, we are discussing formally absorbing those exact people directly into our community.”
“…That is correct, my lord.”
“And that specific discrepancy is the absolute, most critical core of this entire crisis.”
Furthermore, the demographic group that comprised the absolute vast majority of Florida’s current population was those very Native American tribes. It was not the liberated African slaves or the handful of Spanish collaborators who had actually formed the provisional government and formally requested integration into the community.
Raleigh slowly pointed to the highly detailed map of North America spread across the desk, drawing large, distinct circles around the Virginia region and the Florida region.
“When two completely isolated, distinctly separate populations possessing roughly identical demographic sizes are abruptly merged into a single entity, there are several distinct methods of governance one can employ, my lord.
The first option is to fully and equally absorb them directly into our central government.”
“…”
“If we do that, exactly how many ‘Council Members’ do you believe will inevitably be elected from their specific tribes to represent their massive population? Furthermore, unlike ‘that time,’ we currently lack a powerful, unifying catalyst to force a miraculous reconciliation between the warring factions.
If we choose this path, massive, violent political conflict is absolutely guaranteed to erupt within the council chambers.”
There was an incredibly high probability that the ensuing, deeply entrenched political gridlock would completely paralyze the central government, ultimately leading to its catastrophic collapse.
Therefore, the first option was completely off the table.
“Is there a second option, Walter?”
“Of course there is, Manteo. The second option is to formally dispatch a Governor-General to rule over them.”
Dispatch a Governor-General.
Exactly like the incredibly brutal, highly oppressive method England currently employed to completely dominate Ireland.
“If we employ this specific method, the likelihood of massive, paralyzing conflict erupting directly within our central government is significantly reduced, making it incredibly convenient for us. However, it naturally possesses its own glaring, catastrophic flaws.”
“I believe I understand what you mean,” Manteo nodded grimly. “The people being unilaterally dominated and oppressed by a foreign Governor-General will inevitably violently rebel against our rule.”
“No, actually. That is a relatively minor, easily manageable problem,” Raleigh corrected smoothly.
“Hmm?”
The moment he heard the word ‘Governor-General,’ Nemo—whose mind had instantly flashed to the horrific, utterly brutal atrocities committed by the Japanese Government-General of Korea during the colonial occupation—tilted his head in profound confusion. Seeing this, Raleigh smoothly continued his chilling explanation.
“What if… the appointed Governor-General, or even a single prominent official within the colonial administration dispatched alongside him… happened to harbor a deeply entrenched, personal grudge against the Native American tribes currently residing in Florida? And what if, driven by that burning animosity, he were to casually beat one of them to death in the streets?”
It was entirely impossible to guarantee that such a horrific incident wouldn’t occur. After all, they had literally just barely managed to prevent an almost identical, highly violent incident from erupting in the middle of the street mere minutes ago.
“It would be an absolute catastrophe. Virginia and Florida would instantly become permanent, irreconcilable enemies locked in a cycle of endless bloodshed.”
“…”
“…”
“…Is there a third option, Walter?”
“Yes! Of course there is, my lord. It is simultaneously the absolute most stable, yet incredibly delicate and complex method available to us.
We simply allow them to establish their own, completely independent sovereign government.”
“…”
“We allow them to independently manage and resolve their own incredibly complex, highly volatile internal affairs, while we strictly limit our involvement to providing external military and logistical support.”
“If we do that…”
“However, we absolutely cannot allow them to construct a government identical in structure to our own.”
“Hmm? Why is that?”
“Because our current system of governance is…”
Far too terrifyingly democratic.
Hearing Raleigh’s incredibly cryptic remark, Nemo tilted his head in profound confusion, completely failing to grasp the dark, cynical implication.
Raleigh smoothly continued his deeply pragmatic explanation.
Think about it logically, my lord. The demographic group comprising the absolute vast majority of Florida’s current population is ultimately the very Native American tribes who explicitly allied with the Spanish Empire. If we allow them to establish a truly democratic government where the overwhelming majority dictates policy, do you honestly believe a government utterly dominated by those specific tribes will maintain friendly, cooperative relations with our own government? Who knows? Perhaps another massive, bloody war will inevitably erupt between us.
“…”
Therefore, while we officially transition toward a loosely affiliated Federal system… I believe it would not be a terrible idea to actively encourage Florida to construct a highly specific, carefully curated type of government.
“What specific type of government are you proposing, Walter?” Nemo asked cautiously.
At Nemo’s direct question, Raleigh smiled darkly and leaned heavily over the desk, whispering conspiratorially.
A government explicitly governed and completely dominated by individuals we can absolutely, undeniably trust. For example… Perhaps that ‘Priest’ you are so fond of. Or perhaps… that newly ordained ‘Bishop’.