Winter arrived in London, bringing a bone-chilling cold, but in the corridors of power, things were heating up. With the tacit support of the bankers, the open support of the military, and a political base remade into a machine of personal loyalty, I felt untouchable. It was time to make good on a promise I had made on my first day: a visit to Beijing.
This was no mere state visit. It was a statement. As Europe and a United States still in awkward transition before Trump's inauguration condemned me, I was turning to the East. The message was clear: Britain was no longer bound by old, sentimental alliances. We were now a free agent, guided only by cold, national interest.
I arrived in Beijing to calculated pomp. An honor guard, Union Jacks flying alongside the red flags of China, and a firm but warmthless handshake from the Supreme Leader in the Great Hall of the People.
Our meeting took place in a vast, cavernous room, under the giant portrait of Mao Zedong. It was just the two of us, plus two interpreters, though I knew he understood English perfectly.
"Mr. Prime Minister," he began, his voice calm and controlled, "we have observed the changes in your country with great interest. You have taken decisive steps to restore order."
"Order is the foundation of prosperity, Mr. Leader," I replied, using language I knew he would appreciate. "Something our counterparts in the West seem to have forgotten."
He gave a slight nod, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. "The West is in decline. They obsess over decadent ideologies while they allow their societies to crumble from within. You seem to have diagnosed the sickness correctly."
"And I am in the process of curing it," I returned. "Which is why I am here. The new Britain needs pragmatic partners. Partners who understand that the world is governed not by empty slogans, but by power and interest."
We got straight to the point. I reiterated my offer: greater access to London's unrivaled financial markets, partnerships in technology projects, and a neutral British stance on China's "internal affairs." In return, I wanted two things.
First, massive investment from Chinese state-owned enterprises into my new Special Economic Zones, particularly in infrastructure projects in the neglected North of England. I needed a quick, tangible economic victory to show my people that my policies were working.
Second, I wanted access to resources. Specifically, I turned the conversation to Africa.
"Britain has historical ties to Africa," I said carefully. "And we intend to renew them. We see a power vacuum and enormous economic opportunities there."
"So do we," he replied, his eyes narrowing. "We have been investing in Africa for two decades."
"Your investments are economic," I countered. "You build roads and ports. Our influence will be political and security-based. We can provide the stability your investments require. We can deal with the insurgents and terrorists who threaten your projects. Imagine a partnership: Chinese capital and British security expertise. Together, we can bring order and prosperity to the continent, and reap the rewards."
It was a bold proposition. I was effectively offering to be the paid security enforcer for China's economic ambitions in Africa, in exchange for a cut of the profits and a restoration of British influence.
The Chinese leader was silent for a long time. "This is an unorthodox proposal, Mr. Prime Minister," he said finally. "But it has a certain compelling logic. We will consider it."
I knew "we will consider it" was their diplomatic language for agreement. I had just handed him the solution to the persistent security problems plaguing his Belt and Road Initiative.
…
On the final day of my visit, I was taken to see a marvel of Chinese technology: the headquarters of a massive telecommunications company. There, in a gleaming showroom, they showed me their "Social Credit System."
I watched, fascinated, as an executive demonstrated how every citizen was monitored, rated, and ranked based on their behavior. Compliance was rewarded; deviance was punished. It was the most sophisticated system of total social control ever devised.
"Remarkable," I breathed, more to myself than to him.
The executive smiled. "It is the future of governance, Mr. Prime Minister. Efficiency. Stability."
On the plane back to London, my mind was racing. I didn't see an oppressive system. I saw a tool. The perfect tool. My own *System* had given me power over my enemies. A system like this would give me power over everyone.
I called Blackwood from a secure satellite phone.
"Simon," I said, "I have a new project for you. I want you to form a secret committee. Recruit the best tech minds from GCHQ and the private sector. I want you to begin designing a British version of the Chinese Social Credit System."
There was silence on the other end. Even Blackwood was stunned.
"We'll call it something friendlier," I continued. "Something like the 'Exemplary Citizen Program' or the 'National Trust Initiative.' But the principle will be the same. We'll start it gradually. First, as a voluntary program that offers perks like tax breaks or priority access to NHS services. Then, we will make it mandatory."
"Prime Minister… this is…"
"It's the next logical step, Simon," I cut in. "We've eliminated the external enemies. We've silenced the opposition. Now, we must ensure compliance. We will create a society where everyone is incentivized to be a good, loyal, productive citizen. A society with no crime, no dissent, no chaos."
A society under total control.
…
I returned to Britain triumphant. The trip to Beijing had secured my eastern flank. But I returned to a simmering problem.
King Charles had requested an urgent meeting.
I met him at Buckingham Palace. The old man looked more tired than ever. He did not mince words.
"Prime Minister," he said, his voice strained, "I can no longer stand by. You have dismissed the Lord Chief Justice. You have silenced Parliament. You are forming alliances with autocrats. And now, I hear whispers of changes to your party… turning it into a personal movement. This is no longer British governance. This is your regime."
I looked at him calmly. "Your Majesty, I am doing what is necessary to save this kingdom."
"You are destroying it to save it!" he retorted, his voice rising. "This monarchy has survived by remaining politically neutral, by acting as the guardian of the constitution. You are forcing me to collude in its dismantling. I cannot… I will not… grant royal assent to any further steps toward dictatorship."
This was it. The inevitable confrontation.
I looked at the good, weak old man before me, a relic of a dying world.
"Your Majesty," I said, my voice soft and regretful. "I had so hoped you would not say that."
I rose to my feet. "I understand your position. And I respect it. Perhaps… the burden of the crown has become too heavy. Perhaps it is time for a new generation, with a new vision for Britain, to step forward."
He stared at me in horror as he understood the implication of my words.
"Prince William… he is a pragmatic man," I continued gently. "I am sure he would understand the need for strong measures in these trying times. I am sure the people would welcome a young, dynamic King."
I wasn't threatening him physically. I was doing something far crueler. I was threatening his legacy, his son, the future of his family. I was giving him a choice: abdicate in favor of his son and allow my regime to continue unopposed, or refuse and risk the entire institution of the monarchy being destroyed in a fight against me.
King Charles slumped in his chair, seeming to age a decade in an instant. He was beaten.
I walked out of the Palace, leaving a broken King behind me. The final check on my power had been broken. Now, there was nothing to stop me.