【Behind the Scenes】S……
tair dish, currently Deputy Per Secretary at the Departnt of Energy.
His curriculuvitae was a del of ieccability. Though he possessed a re sixteen years of Civil Service experience, he had rotated through various core departnts and the et Office, held nurous key posts, and had even been seded to Nuer 10. Every perfornce review was unifory rked ''''Exceptional''''. His ast through the grades had been astonishingly swift.
A…
He frowned. "Too young, Albert. Far too young."
The Pri Minister''''s voice was a xture of fatigue and a cautious weighing of political risk.
"A Per Secretary at thirty-eight? Whitehall is not yet aced to this teo, I fear."
The coalition was on thin ice; any appoi could upset the fragile balance.
The et Secretary, Sir Albert Sackville, sat nearby, his silver teles glinting in the lalight.
He leaned forward slightly, his toeady. "A yount, a young appoi. There is a certain… syetry, Pri Minister."
"Moreover…" Sir Albert paused, his fiip landing on the assessnt n as his grey-blue eyes looked up frobehind his spectacles, "dish has extensive experien strategic assessnt, planning, a execution. He is particularly adept at coordination aiation. This Departnt of Synergy Coordination requires precisely such a heln, one who erect the frawork and, at the very least… e appears to fun."
The Pri Minister''''s gaze flickered over the surna ''''dish'''', and the uated ''''Lord'''' that followed. An aristocratic background was a double-edged sword in the Civil Service: it brought intangible assets, but could also attravisible barriers.
"And his background? Will it not be…"
"A silver spoon…" Sir Albert''''s eyes returo the file, "st be perpetually burnished by goldes lest it cast an unwele glare. Alistair dish uands this well. Every step of his protion has been founded on the bedroerit, not the shifting sands of lineage."
He picked up his fountain pen and tapped the nonation paper lightly. "To be safe, perhaps we ght add the word ''''Ag'''' before his title of Per Secretary? With a six-nth evaluation period, to be subtted in writing."
Sir Albert had discreetly provided a det buffer for this prosing young n—which was also a line of retreat. It was both prote and probation.
Outside, the glow of Whitehall''''s streetlas flickered through the gap in the heavy curtains.
The Pri Minister reflected for a nt, his gaze seeng to pierce the darkness beyond the drapes. Finally, he took his pen and signed his the bottoof the dot.
The ink bled into a single, dark point.
Alistair''''s file, and with it his political fate, had been cast into the kiln that was firing this delicate vase, the ''''Departnt of Synergy''''.
"The hihave a go, Albert. Let us hope this ''''vase'''' at least hold a few… flowers that are not too thorny."
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A coolly dern sitting-roo
The lines were , the only c froa shelf of handsoly bound classical literature by the fireplad several abstract prints on the wall.
Alistair, in a dark gree dressing-gown, stood at the window, gazing at the hazy lights of the South Bank across the Thas. He had just finished a patched-through call with Brussels, discussing the teical details of North Sea oil extra quotas, and a trace of weariness lingered on his brow.
The ring of the telephh the silence.
It was the direct line frothe et Office.
"Lord dish." The voi the other end was strictly business. "Sir Albert Sackville''''s plints. You are to be teorarily seded to the et Office, effective iediately. You are to spearhead the establishnt of the new Departnt of Synergy Coordination and its initial operations. You are appointed Head of the Preparatory Unit. A full brief has been dispatched via secure els."
The li dead.
Alistair did not ve iediately, his calface reflected in the windowpane.
His curriculuvitae was a del of ieccability. Though he possessed a re sixteen years of Civil Service experience, he had rotated through various core departnts and the et Office, held nurous key posts, and had even been seded to Nuer 10. Every perfornce review was unifory rked ''''Exceptional''''. His ast through the grades had been astonishingly swift.
A…
He frowned. "Too young, Albert. Far too young."
The Pri Minister''''s voice was a xture of fatigue and a cautious weighing of political risk.
"A Per Secretary at thirty-eight? Whitehall is not yet aced to this teo, I fear."
The coalition was on thin ice; any appoi could upset the fragile balance.
The et Secretary, Sir Albert Sackville, sat nearby, his silver teles glinting in the lalight.
He leaned forward slightly, his toeady. "A yount, a young appoi. There is a certain… syetry, Pri Minister."
"Moreover…" Sir Albert paused, his fiip landing on the assessnt n as his grey-blue eyes looked up frobehind his spectacles, "dish has extensive experien strategic assessnt, planning, a execution. He is particularly adept at coordination aiation. This Departnt of Synergy Coordination requires precisely such a heln, one who erect the frawork and, at the very least… e appears to fun."
The Pri Minister''''s gaze flickered over the surna ''''dish'''', and the uated ''''Lord'''' that followed. An aristocratic background was a double-edged sword in the Civil Service: it brought intangible assets, but could also attravisible barriers.
"And his background? Will it not be…"
"A silver spoon…" Sir Albert''''s eyes returo the file, "st be perpetually burnished by goldes lest it cast an unwele glare. Alistair dish uands this well. Every step of his protion has been founded on the bedroerit, not the shifting sands of lineage."
He picked up his fountain pen and tapped the nonation paper lightly. "To be safe, perhaps we ght add the word ''''Ag'''' before his title of Per Secretary? With a six-nth evaluation period, to be subtted in writing."
Sir Albert had discreetly provided a det buffer for this prosing young n—which was also a line of retreat. It was both prote and probation.
Outside, the glow of Whitehall''''s streetlas flickered through the gap in the heavy curtains.
The Pri Minister reflected for a nt, his gaze seeng to pierce the darkness beyond the drapes. Finally, he took his pen and signed his the bottoof the dot.
The ink bled into a single, dark point.
Alistair''''s file, and with it his political fate, had been cast into the kiln that was firing this delicate vase, the ''''Departnt of Synergy''''.
"The hihave a go, Albert. Let us hope this ''''vase'''' at least hold a few… flowers that are not too thorny."
---
---
---
A coolly dern sitting-roo
The lines were , the only c froa shelf of handsoly bound classical literature by the fireplad several abstract prints on the wall.
Alistair, in a dark gree dressing-gown, stood at the window, gazing at the hazy lights of the South Bank across the Thas. He had just finished a patched-through call with Brussels, discussing the teical details of North Sea oil extra quotas, and a trace of weariness lingered on his brow.
The ring of the telephh the silence.
It was the direct line frothe et Office.
"Lord dish." The voi the other end was strictly business. "Sir Albert Sackville''''s plints. You are to be teorarily seded to the et Office, effective iediately. You are to spearhead the establishnt of the new Departnt of Synergy Coordination and its initial operations. You are appointed Head of the Preparatory Unit. A full brief has been dispatched via secure els."
The li dead.
Alistair did not ve iediately, his calface reflected in the windowpane.