Chapter 570 - 268: Schrödinger’s Monroe
Harrisburg. The Lieutenant Governor’s Office.
Aston Monroe sat on the sofa in the lounge area, a cell phone resting on the coffee table before him.
Just ten minutes ago, the call from a Washington number had ended.
Raymond Walker, the House Majority Leader, had called on behalf of the Democratic National Committee to convey the will of the party’s highest echelons.
"Aston, you are our future in Pennsylvania. If you’re willing to clean house and make that trouble in Pittsburgh disappear, the party will give you its full support to take over."
It was a promise.
Monroe stood up and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
The Susquehanna River flowed silently in the night, and in the distance, the lights of the Governor’s Mansion glimmered faintly.
Bob Campbell lived there.
An old man who was about to become history.
Monroe’s fingers slid gently across the cold glass.
’He’d waited for this day for too long.’
’He deserved to be sitting in that highest position.’
Now, the opportunity was right before him.
All he had to do was nod, follow Washington’s lead, and Walker promised Campbell would soon step down, either for health reasons or due to a sudden scandal.
He would then, as a matter of course, be sworn into office and become the master of Pennsylvania.
’Compared to his arrangement with Leo, cooperating with the Democratic Party leadership was clearly the better choice.’
It looked like a path paved with flowers and a red carpet.
But Monroe didn’t immediately call Washington back.
He hesitated.
Human desire is endless.
When a man can only gaze up at the governor’s throne, he thinks it’s the ultimate prize.
But when that throne is within reach—practically in the bag—his gaze inevitably turns to something higher.
Pennsylvania Avenue.
The White House.
’He didn’t want to be just a governor.’
’A governor is merely a vassal lord.’
’In this Federation, only the man sitting in the Oval Office is the true Caesar.’
He was forty-six now. After serving two full terms, he would be fifty-four.
The prime age for a presidential run.
Monroe walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of soda water.
The bubbles popped in the glass with a faint fizzing sound.
He began to calculate.
It was a political equation for his future, with incredibly complex variables and his entire political career at stake.
Two paths lay before him.
The first path: become the Democratic Party’s governor.
This was the script Washington had written for him.
Accept Walker’s proposal. Become a blade wielded by the Establishment Faction.
After Campbell stepped down, he would have to use the power of the State Government, perhaps even mobilize the National Guard, to suppress the inevitable riots and dissolve the illegal Industrial Revival Alliance.
The advantages were obvious.
He would earn the favor of the Democratic National Committee.
Hundreds of millions of US Dollars in campaign funds would flood into his accounts, enough to drown any competitor.
The New York Times and CNN would paint him as a hero who restored order, an iron-fisted governor upholding the rule of law.
His position within the party would become rock-solid, at least for a time.
But what was the cost?
Monroe took a sip of water, the cool liquid slightly cooling his heated mind.
The cost was that he would have to do the dirty work.
Faced with betrayal, Leo’s counterattack would be swift and brutal. He would incite the Industrial Revival Alliance to riot, meaning Monroe would be declaring war on hundreds of thousands of workers.
The steelworkers, the truck drivers, the working-class people who had just begun to taste the benefits of the Industrial Revival Alliance—they would all see him as their mortal enemy.
Pennsylvania would be plunged into bloodshed and turmoil.
He would be personally severing his ties with the blue-collar class.
Monroe gazed at the Rust Belt Cities on the map.
Besides, Washington’s targets right now were Campbell and Leo.
But after taking those two down, the Democratic National Committee would inevitably try to bring the State Government completely under its heel to secure its grip on the key Swing State of Pennsylvania.
If he plunged Pennsylvania into internal conflict for Washington’s temporary backing, he would be a loser no matter the outcome.
A governor who won power but lost public support had no value on Washington’s chessboard—he wouldn’t even qualify as a pawn.
He would be cast aside immediately, and the Democratic National Committee would simply find a new proxy to clean up the mess.
His career would most likely end there.
This was the endgame of Washington’s path.
Monroe set down his glass.
The second path: become Leo’s governor.
Or, to put it another way, take a rogue path, independent of Washington.
He could continue working with Leo, using Leo’s influence with the grassroots to oust Campbell.
Then, he would acquiesce to Leo’s crazy experiments, tolerating the existence of that state-within-a-state.
He could use the Union voting blocs controlled by Leo to solidify his own rule in Pennsylvania.
The advantages of this path were enormous.
He would secure the governorship with ease, without being branded an oppressor.
He would have a solid Rust Belt base.
He could even leverage the vast, self-contained economic system Leo was building to control resources beyond the reach of Federation oversight.
That was a terrifying amount of power.
If he could harness this power and become its nominal leader...
Then, in a future presidential election, he would no longer be just an ordinary governor.
He would be the King of Pennsylvania.
He would be the only one who could win over the Rust Belt. He would hold the key to Pennsylvania, the state that could decide the entire election.