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1038 years and 259 days after the coronation of the first British Shahanshah, a meeting between the Shahanshah and the seven councillors of the realm. They are, universally, the best who the Shahanshah can trust to not stab him. They’re not quite the best but they are very very good at what they do and not as good as the Shahanshah.
"We need to screen off history," begins the Shahanshah.
"Wwwhyyyy?" asks Libationer Zia. The Libationer had studied from birth in the ways of the gods, and had even rose in the Hermetic Society to the level of having laid eyes on the Astral Codex of Alexander; as such, he was usually the one interpreting the will of the Shahanshah.
"High conditional probability of possibility of artificial intelligence given observations of past. I am competent to deal with this. Theokistos is not. Screening permits decorrelation as optimised by the office of Shahanshah."
Theokistos, who is one level above you and one level below the Shahanshah, has heard news of this. He does not, actually, understand the assignment. Advanced "artificial intelligence" is something to do with the god of sand, he thinks, though the god of sand doesn't seem like an awfully important part of the celestial bureaucracy?
The Chief Minister has other concerns. Kambiz of Belgorod was forged in the fires of the political system of Belgorod. When assigned to international negotations with the last rivals, Hispania and the fragments of Carthage, it was a relaxing break, because they tended to limit themselves to only two or three factions at a time, and were kept sharp and grounded to reality by being invaded by Britannia.
He's back to work, now, handling the bickering Shahs of the realm. It's a nice pace, suits his skills perfectly. When he retires, he thinks he'll buy Belgorod outright, set the entire city on fire, and be laid to rest.
On the matter of the Screening, anyway. "The Shahs won't accept this," says Kambiz. "Too abrupt, too much of a decision to make on their behalf given the established power of the aristocracy. We would need to bring them into the loop. I'm sure your.. persuasion" - the Shahanshah once feigned being an apostate, put to death, and was released by a senior guard sworn not to do so simply by talking through the dungeon wall - "will be up to the task of bringing them in line."
"We do not have established infohazard protocols for the task," says the Shahanshah. "I could contain all inferences the Shahs would leak; Theokistos could not."
The Shahanshah loves Theokistos really. This is just where he pretends to be someone who dislikes Theokistos pretending to be someone who likes him pretending to be someone who dislikes him, because Theokistos can play _that_ game, and tunneling in on that tiny domain of complexity against someone is the kind of thing where the Shahanshah gets the flickers of happiness that keep life barely positive. Theokistos is genuinely incompetent, though, not being the Shahanshah and all that.
"Then I claim the attempted screening unreasonable. Bring the Shahs in anyway, or find a different way. Zia, any different way proposals? None you say will work but there might be one that's workable."
Zia opened his mouth but was interrupted by the Shahanshah drawing a tiny alchemical device. "I made this, alone. What is its function?"
None could answer but Golshan, who could kill you in over 300 ways just with her bare hands. She'd never seen the device, but the Shahansah wasn't hiding his stance. He wanted them to figure it out; maybe he was lonely, wanted this gulf between minds to be crossed, signalling so blatantly. "Weapon. It, ah, is like black powder, but not, more dangerous than that. Size of it doesn't work if it's just black powder."
"And how does it work?"
"I don't know, I'm not an alchemist."
"I am," said the Shahanshah. He held it up to his head.
The Shahanshah makes sense in a way that no other person anywhere on the planet makes sense. As such,
He does not detonate it.
He lowers the not-black-powder-weapon and places it on the table. “Only Britannia has this weapon. The Zhou Dynasty does not have these; they have rockets, they have cannons, they do not have anything that can be held, let alone thrown.”
“The Shahs speak in this language. You tell them Britannia has this, and they think Britannia is better than anywhere else. Never mind that they’d destroy it in a destructive-conflict. The reason they can be told is that there is no need, now, for the memory of such a place as not-Britannia. It fits their pride.”
Kambiz’ job would probably be easier if the Shahanshah actually liked the Shahs that he was Shahan of. Still. “That actually works. What happens to the cities and the universities?” What of Belgorod, he means.
The Shahanshah smiled. "My predecessors placed the universities in a way that accords with history-independent geography; the cities grew about them. About Belgorod, though, I do have an offer to make, as you have been such a dear help with the integration of Carthage and HispaniaGaulIberia. Do you recall the theory of indivisibles?"
Kambiz nodded, cautiously. He barely recalled it. The Shahnshah knew this, and would explain accordingly. Kambiz would barely recall it afterwards but would understand. Very frustrating, inevitable. The offer would be worth his while, though.
"All in favour of the Screening of the Past?"
All in favour. So the Shahdom of Carthage, and everywhere else that once had memory of anywhere that was not Britannia, is to be incorporated, de jure, into the Empire of Britannia, and that will be that.