» Tue Apr 05, 2011 5:03 pm His Royal Highness King George VIII strolled through the ballroom of Buckingham Palace, a folded copy of The Times tucked under his arm. The middle-aged monarch inherited his mother's twinkling eyes and dark hair, while he cursed his father for his hereditary male-pattern baldness. The Palace, the official Royal residence in London since the reign of his great, great, great, great, great, grandmother, Queen Victoria, had seen better days. The ornate surroundings had been stripped by successive governments, the Rembrants and Rubens sold to private bidders on orders of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
His reign over the past decade had not been a happy one. Clashes between the Royal Navy and freelance drillers in the North Sea accelerated Britain's withdrawal from the European Commonwealth, but the issue became a moot point once the wells began to run dry. The sinking of the Norwegian ship HNoMS King Haakon VII by the Royal Navy ship HMS Cornwall led to widespread condemnation, prompting the king himself to intervene in a throwback to the days of dynastic marriage, George VIII marrying the Norwegian Princess Kristina, every inch the stoic Scandinavian picture of royal elegance. The union placated public anger in the two countries, although George's "Le etat? C'est moi!" quip at the wedding ceremony had been picked up by the British tabloids as wholly inappropriate in a modern constitutional monarchy. He had spent a great deal of time at Balmoral in Scotland, his presence there an attempt to quell secessionist spirit in England's discontent northern neighbour, enjoying rambling hikes and shooting whilst the rest of the population struggled to make ends meet.
Outside the privileged world of the palace, Britain itself had been in steady decline. As with the rest of Europe and America, dwindling oil reserves took a grim toll. A government survey conducted in 2070 revealed that only one in seven Britons still owned a car, the cost simply too prohibitive for most citizens. A growing trend in rural areas had spread into cities - the use of horses. While initially derided as a preposterous relic of ages past, even the squeamish middle classes began to embrace the animals as affordable alternatives to the car. Parked cars were consigned to rusting scrapheaps, while in the streets of the city it was not unusual to see piles of dung and hear the whinnies of horses hitched to parking meters. Livery stables boomed, even while upper class ladies held their breaths past the piles of refuse now left by the useful animals.
Previous governments had adopted what had become known as an 'Ostrich strategy' - the energy crisis acknowledged far too late. Public riots broke out in many major cities as energy prices soared, prompting many to see electrical items as a luxury, not a privilege. The previous Prime Minister had made a token effort to construct wind turbines and solar generators, but the output was far too inadequate. Faced with a vote of no confidence in the House of Commons, he ordered a mass construction of nuclear power plants across the country, using techniques developed in the United States.
The new measures were seen by many as an irresponsible 'quick fix' - nuclear power has a poor reputation since the New York incident in 2065, leaving much of the state without power and killing 46 plant workers. The 'Hot Summer' saw the creation of the 'Response' group, which grew to prominence protesting the construction sites of three new nuclear power plants. Their most infamous action before 2075 was the systematic intimidation of site foremen, but in November 2075 they shot to prominence as one of the foremost ecoterrorists on the planet. George VIII, clad in traditional robes, presided over the state opening of Parliament and remembered the day vividly.
A red bolt shot across the green seats of the House of Commons, striking the reelected Prime Minister square in the chest. He fell with a crumple to the ground, as peers screamed in terror. The Imperial State Crown balanced precariously on George VIII's head as he ran to assist the fallen Prime Minister. While red and gold clad Yeomen of the Guard - the king's personal bodyguard - gave chase and eventually cut down the assassin, the King accompanied the stricken head of government as he was carried away by paramedics. The beam, from an AER5 laser rifle, had nicked the aorta of the Prime Minister's heart - causing fatal internal bleeding.
The event stunned an already declining nation. While the Americans were always shooting, blowing up and disintegrating their presidents, the last British Prime Minister to be assassinated was Spencer Perceval in 1812. Perceval had been shot by an individual acting alone, while Prime Minister Morton had been killed as a part of a Response conspiracy. The following months turned into a witch hunt for Response members. Although the assassin had been killed as he attempted to flee, the successive Prime Minister vowed to bring the rest of the domestic terrorists to justice.
The new Prime Minister, John Hobson was nicknamed 'Hobson's Choice' - an elder parliamentarian who had served as Morton's Deputy Prime Minister, primarily due to his long service. A jovial and portly sort in the classic English tradition, he was more used to hearing old ladies complain about lines at the supermarket than hunting assassins and trying to maintain the United Kingdom's interests abroad. The greatest outrage came with the U.S.'s annexation of Canada, in February 2076. Although the British Commonwealth had dissolved in the 2050s, referenda in Australia, Canada, New Zealand and across the Caribbean rejecting the British monarch as their sovereign and Spain snatching Gibraltar, many still felt a kinship with their Canadian cousins, who had continued to ship resources back to their ailing mother country, whilst imports from the U.S.A. were almost non-existent.
Diplomatic relations with the United States began to plummet following Britain's refusal to send troops to aid her erstwhile allies against Chinese aggression in Alaska, citing commitments in the Middle East and European instability. Draconian measures aimed at protecting Britain from the New Plague also did nothing to enamour Britain to the Americans, leading to increased tariffs and diplomatic shunning. By 2077, the 'special relationship' that had existed for centuries had been completely demolished.
The headline of The Times on the morning of July 17th, 2077, concerned increased energy rationing measures enacted by various local councils, with a feature on how Britons could construct their own improvised fallout shelters out of mattresses and wardrobes, featuring a Harris family from Berkshire. Earlier that morning, Prime Minister Hobson had videocalled the King for a meeting on an 'urgent matter'.
Welcome to Britain.
