Chapter 3-67: Just Some Working Stiffs (1/2)
“Wha-what?” the man stammered, and then realized what the square pupils meant. “Oh gods, you’re Citybound...”
There wasn’t much sound, but the Wrath was bright red, and a little black, as his head blew apart under Fred’s Grit, and only ash reached the old green paint on the office wall.
Fred retrieved the man’s cell phone from his pocket, and turned to the frozen director.
YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY I AM HERE, Fred’s words flamed up and were gone, the man paling.
“This is impossible... Baltimore doesn’t have any Citybound...” the man protested.
I’M KIND OF A FREE AGENT. IT’S A SHAME. IF YOU HAD KEPT YOUR EFFORTS POSITIVE, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN MAYOR.
The man’s face plummeted. “Wait, wait! I’m sure I can make the money back...”
The sound of the shot was silent, and his head also vanished. His body slumped into his comfortable chair, the stump of his neck smoking.
Fred turned around and took two steps out, then paused, turning to look at the secretary, who was on the phone and about to speak, but couldn’t under his eyes.
MISS HARRINGTON, YOU KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON AND FAILED TO REPORT IT. BALTIMORE IS NOT HAPPY WITH YOU. YOU HAVE A WEEK TO LEAVE TOWN. YOU WILL DONATE THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR RETIREMENT AND PENSION TO THE SOUTHSIDE RESTORATION SOCIETY, AS YOU WILL NOT LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO COLLECT IT IF YOU DO NOT.
The phone slipped from her hands down to the desk with a clatter, and she stared at his backside as the uncompleted phone call droned at her loudly...
There were more than a few people watching as he walked out, gaping as he strode out, turned right, and paused right in front of a slender fellow of mixed heritage who instinctively stepped back as Fred looked right at him.
ABNER JEFFERSON?, Fred asked the man calmly.
Sweat beads broke out on his forehead. “Y-yes?” he managed to reply with a wince.
THE CITY OF BALTIMORE INSTRUCTS YOU TO TAKE OVER YOUR PREDECESSOR’S JOB AS DIRECTOR OF PUBLIC WORKS. FURTHERMORE, YOU WILL UNDERTAKE AN IMMEDIATE INVESTIGATION INTO THE CONTRACTS WITH THE COMPANIES BELONGING TO THE O’DONNEL FAMILY, WHO HAVE DIRECTLY BILKED THE CITY OUT OF OVER HALF A MILLION DOLLARS, ARE PADDING THE ROLLS OF PENSION CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE UNIONS FOR THEIR WORKERS AND POCKETING THE EXCESS, TO OVER TWO MILLION DOLLARS.
THE CITY IS INTERESTED IN ACCEPTING YOU AS A CITYBOUND. YOUR FAMILY HAS BEEN HERE FOR FOUR GENERATIONS ON BOTH SIDES. GO TO THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT AND ANNOUNCE YOUR INTENTION TO SERVE IF YOU AGREE.
Fred reached out and clapped the younger man’s shoulder. WELL SERVED, MR. JEFFERSON.
He turned and walked away, ignoring the crowd that was peeking out and hastily slamming up against the walls to let him pass, leaving Abner Jefferson gaping after him. He strolled back to the window, Rode the Light back down to Sleipner, swung on, and his bike was heading out before he laid a hand on the bars.
He was a Citybound acting under the direction of the city. There were federal laws put in place exactly for this purpose... mostly in recognition of the fact that making the actions of the various Warlocks running around illegal wasn’t going to stop anything from happening, because their sponsoring entities just didn’t care. Making the actions of the Spirit of the land upon which you stood ‘illegal’ was just asking for all sorts of coincidental ways to die to happen to you, as more than one legislator of one sort or another had fallen out of, down, or through messily...
The Warlocks sworn to the Profound Forces fell under the rules of religious conflicts among the Powered, but the genius loci basically came under the “Environmental Dictates”, an ever-evolving set of guidelines on how to respond to the Spirits of local areas... which basically came down to not pissing them off and not getting in their way, and everyone would pretty much be better off for it.
Naturebound and Citybound could and did get into shooting matches... but as long as it involved only them, the law was hands-off. The Warlocks were expected to claim responsibility and victory in such disagreements, which often were basically duels over whether development and expansion, or abandonment and reclamation, would proceed in certain areas.
A Citybound executing a governmental employee was now basically a hazard of the job for either gross incompetency, or more likely, outright corruption. It turned out that Citybound getting into positions of authority soon had the government humming along sweetly, and local business leaders tended to either fall in line, or move operations... to another City Spirit who might be happy to get them, but still wouldn’t put up with anything their prior city was pissed at them for. Someone fleeing and owing their prior city a debt might keep their life if they brought business to a new city, but still end up having to pay that debt off if they didn’t want unwanted visitors stopping in to collect... with interest.
His next public stop would be to the MacConnel spice company in the suburbs. They were starting to use alchemical additions to their spices, generating some pretty bad odors and contamination of the air. Their company had a decent history to it, but this change had really annoyed the city. Baltimore suspected something else was at work, and his Heavenbound Pact was curious, too.
His Stormbound Pact was definitely interested in shutting down all sorts of atmospheric pollution, and Baltimore had thus lined up four different businesses for him to visit and deliver a final notice about cleaning up, or else.