General Giraud was visiting Nanterre after a victorious campaign against a violent group that had taken control of a peaceful town on the outskirts of the Parisian metropolis. The leader, David Marinot, had taken control by presenting himself as its defender against other criminal groups, mostly coming from the capital, before imposing his rule with an iron fist. It was a resident of this town who, at the risk of his life, had informed Colonel Lejeune and General Giraud of the gravity of the situation.
The general, being a man of principles who desired nothing more than a return to order, naturally agreed to gather and send his men to the location despite the risks.
Karima had not participated in the operation, as she was needed in Nanterre to maintain order. Thanks to her comrades, everything had gone well, and no major problems had arisen in the absence of the high-ranking officers and part of the police force.
The return of the general and his men was celebrated with fanfare, and the criminal leader was executed in public under the applause of the crowd. Care was taken to list all their crimes to justify the sentence. For many, being hanged was too generous a fate for such a man.
After almost a year of chaos, nothing was left of the republic. The general thus proclaimed an obvious truth: the French Republic is dead. Until then, measures had been improvised, sometimes difficult ones, for the common good. It was hardly possible to speak of a provisional government, as it was a crisis context requiring the application of martial law. But this state could not last forever.
Unsurprisingly, the general announced that a new government had to be formed, whatever its form. France, more than any other country, had a rich experience in this matter: it had been an absolute monarchy, a parliamentary monarchy, a republic, a directory, a consulate, and an empire.
There weren't many options left, but originality was not the criterion sought by the general, who, like everyone else, desired stability and efficiency.
He could have taken power by force, everyone was aware of that, and he had the means, yet he chose another path: that of a referendum. For him, it was essential to let the people decide on the form of the government that would organize society and defend its rights.
He also wanted to make Nanterre the heart of the country since, of all the places he had visited, it was the one that was doing the best considering the number of inhabitants. The problem was that the further one moved away from this town, the less his authority was recognized. Large regions thus escaped his authority, preferring to follow individuals who were closer and sometimes just as competent as he was.
Some generals and admirals had done the same and now found themselves in charge, by force of circumstances, of cities and regions. All General Giraud could do was do his best for the people who accepted to place themselves under his protection.
All the inhabitants of the region were thus invited to go to the barracks, the police station, or any building transformed into an emergency government outpost to express their vote. In Nanterre, the outpost was naturally the Rathelot barracks.
The question was simple: "What political regime do you want?"
All sorts of proposals were made, and a blank space was left for the voter to make a suggestion.
Karima and the others had spent sleepless nights handwriting all these ballots. They were made of very poor quality recycled paper, so thin that you could almost see through it.
At dawn, the voters began to arrive. Under the supervision of the police and the army (including the gendarmerie), a ballot was handed to each one. There was a voting booth and a large glass box that had luckily survived the riots and arson. Little by little, the box filled with ballots.
Karima, who was near a large window overlooking the training yard, exchanged in a low voice with Captain Ruffet to avoid being heard.
"Captain, isn't this a bit risky? I mean, what if we end up with a dictatorship?
"Would that be such a bad thing, Sub-lieutenant?"
"P-pardon?! You're joking, I hope!
"Look at them. They need someone to tell them what to do. They need a leader. We are already not far from a military dictatorship, you know? We just called it something else and gave it a legal framework. Honestly, I'm not sure what we've been doing so far was legal. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure: we stepped out of legality months ago. So, a dictatorship... If we end up with an emperor, well, it will be the will of the people."
The will of the people... But the people can be wrong!
"But what if it marks the end of democracy, Captain? There will be no more voting, no more elections."
"Look where we are," sighed the captain. "It's already good that so many people have turned up. Think about the many people who didn't bother to come because they have already given up on this right. Even before the blackout, what was the percentage of voters and abstainers? People, even more so today, no longer care about these things. They want peace, they want order, they want to eat their fill and be warm in winter. If they decide to have an authoritarian regime, it's because they have determined that they need that type of regime to have what they truly need to survive.
"I understand, but... It bothers me, Captain. France has gone through so many trials for us to be able to vote."
"I know. But we need to put things in perspective. Try to see French history from an external point of view. We had kings for almost our entire history. Everything else, including the republic, came only after 1789. They are just regimes. They were born and they died. France continued to exist during all that time. We must ensure that it continues to exist, even if it's in another form. That's our priority. No matter how we go about it, no matter who is at the head of the state, no matter the flag, as long as it's France."
But can France remain France after all this? The country is already fractured!
"I... I see," sighed Karima. "So the choice they are going to make, that we are going to make, doesn't matter much?" asked Karima with a tiny glimmer of hope.
"Not really. A king, an emperor, a president, a chancellor. It's just a name, just a title. The one who ends up in that position will have to manage the crisis, probably until their death. They will have countless difficult decisions to make."
"But who? The general?"
The captain briefly observed his sous-lieutenant, his gaze devoid of emotion, before shrugging.
"There will certainly need to be another vote, but I hope so. He is an experienced and dedicated man. He will surely know how to govern and get his hands dirty when necessary."
General Giraud was an almost obvious choice, for he had been tirelessly moving around and fighting for the proper functioning of the towns near Paris and maintaining order for a year now. Everyone could see that he was giving a lot of himself. Those who accompanied him everywhere and assisted him were even concerned about his health. It was said that he didn't sleep more than a few hours each night.
Because Karima had only the rank of sous-lieutenant, it was still a significant progression compared to the beginning of this crisis, she had never been able to speak with the general. However, she had seen him several times and had a very good image of him. He was very tall, mature without looking old, had a certain presence, and maintained his appearance carefully. He was clean-shaven and always wore his fine uniform, although most often it was partially hidden by the majestic armor of King Henri IV.
Compared to her or anyone else, he was impressive. He was the kind of person one could not ignore, even by trying.
It was at this moment that the man entered the room, dressed in his fine uniform only. He politely greeted all the military personnel present but did not forget to exchange a few words with the civilians waiting for their turn to vote.
Shortly after the general entered, Karima noticed a plump woman in her fifties. Her dark skin and black hair contrasted with the very colorful clothes she wore. It was Karima's mother, and it was clear she had made herself presentable for the occasion.
"Ah, Mom! Uh, Captain, may I go see her?"
"Granted, but don't stay too long. We are here to monitor and prevent disturbances and fraud."
"Yes, Captain!"
The young woman immediately headed towards her mother, who noticed her in turn when she was only a few steps away. Karima and her mother had not seen each other for weeks. More and more often, she told herself that she should take the time to visit her mother. However, she always found a good reason to postpone the visit for a few days. Generally, she blamed it on her work. It was true that a lot was expected of her, especially since she had been promoted. However, things had been evolving in the right direction for some time thanks to their efforts to restore order in the city. It was certain that the fact that they had destroyed the bridges between Nanterre and Paris had something to do with it.
"Hello, Mom! How are you?"
"Ah, Karima! I'm fine, I'm fine. But you? It's been so long since you visited me! I'm going to end up thinking you're avoiding me, haha."
Karima felt ashamed and didn't know what to say to defend herself. Fatima took advantage of the moment to continue.
"I was hoping to see you this morning. I didn't know if you would be here or on patrol. What lengths a mother has to go to see her daughter!"
"I—I was assigned to help monitor the area."
"I see that. You're quite numerous!"
"That's because it's an important day. The captain, like all the officers, including General Giraud, wants everything to go well."
"General Giraud? That handsome man over there?" she said, eyeing the officer who was busy giving instructions to another officer.
"Mom!"
Karima's mother loved to tease her, and since she knew her daughter well, she usually had no trouble finding weaknesses in her defense. Karima's strong reaction made Fatima smile triumphantly.
"Well? There's nothing wrong with saying a handsome man is a handsome man. And besides, he's in uniform… Is he single by any chance?"
"But I don't know!" exclaimed Karima. "And besides, you're too old!"
"Oh really?" Fatima replied, feigning surprise and raising an eyebrow. "I don't see why. My neighbor, Nadia, she's fifty-four; well, she got into a relationship! So I don't see why I couldn't! It's been years since I've dated anyone, and I get bored in the apartment. You're never there, and I'm all alone."
Karima felt a headache coming on hearing her mother talk about these things. She was perfectly aware that it wasn't easy for her, but that didn't mean she was ready to see her mother start a new life with a stranger!
Karima's mother didn't mean everything she said. What had happened with her previous husband, the father of her only daughter, had affected her more deeply than she let on. While she did feel the weight of loneliness, she wasn't really thinking about getting into a relationship again. She wasn't actively looking for a good match. However, she was seriously starting to worry about her daughter. She saw the years passing without anything changing.
"Besides, Karima, maybe it's time you found someone, isn't it?"
"W-what?!"
Karima's cry drew all eyes to her, including the general's. She hadn't expected that attack!
"I-I… It's just… It's not the right time, Mom! It's complicated! I don't have the time! I have too much work!"
Fatima saw her daughter get defensive as she always did when she brought up this delicate topic. Although very pious and born in Algeria, she wanted her daughter to choose her own husband. This wasn't a given for families whose hearts were turned towards their country of origin. Most often, it was considered important to carefully preserve the traditions of one's ancestors even if one had been away from the country for generations. Fatima had seen the consequences that could bring.
"Blah blah blah. Just excuses. You're not going to wait until you're my age to be interested in men, are you?"
"No! Of course not! But not now!"
Karima averted her gaze and noticed several mocking smiles, including on the faces of her colleagues. Her heart raced, and her thoughts became confused. All those eyes… She wanted to run and hide in a corner. That was partly why she avoided these kinds of conversations. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Why is she talking to me about this? Leave me alone, Mom! I'll decide when I'm ready!
The young gendarme had already tried to get into a relationship before the blackout. She had probably started like everyone else by looking around her, in real life. Then, seeing the few acceptable candidates, she turned to dating apps. And that was worse! Plenty of men, but none of them good! She had accepted a few dates but was never satisfied. Worse, she had the very unpleasant impression of being on a meat market. Between those who only wanted her body for a night of fun and those who couldn't string three words together in proper French, she preferred to uninstall all those apps.
And then the blackout happened.
Since then, she had been so busy that she had put all those things aside.
"You think so much about others, Karima. Maybe it's time to think a little about yourself, about your happiness. Don't let your youth slip away. You'll regret it. Men don't want old bitter women. Especially if you want to have children one day."
And now she's talking about children! Ah! I want to leave here! Send me on patrol, captain!
She turned to her superior, but he pretended not to see or hear anything.
Traitor!