110 A Patron Sain (1/2)
By the time the day ended, Carlton Brock decided that it had been the longest day in his career, no, more than that: in his entire life! It felt much, much longer even than the days preceding his birthdays when he was a child. He'd spent them wondering what presents he would get the next day, constantly looking at the clock and finding that only a few minutes had passed in what had felt like an hour.
Accompanied as usual by the indomitable Lea Panatella, he returned to his suite and immediately made straight for the cabinet that contained his private bar. He poured a stiff Wild Turkey for himself and a Dubonnet for Lea. Handing her the glass, he said:
”You know, Lea, sometimes I amaze myself. I really do. You know that I carry a gun around at all times, now that everyone's bodyguards have been reassigned to building security. I had the urge to pull my gun out and shoot a couple of assholes every few minutes, I kid you not. It called for supreme self-control.”
”Why? They agreed to everything,” said Lea.
”They agreed because they had no other choice. What did you say, governor? That you're opposed? You're fired, get the fuck out of here right now. They all knew that would be exactly what would happen if they got difficult with me.”
”You were disappointed by their lack of enthusiasm,” said the mind-reading Panatella.
”Exactly. Exactly! I give them total power, absolute power to do anything they like within their territories. And how do they react? They're horrified! You know why?”
”They are afraid of the responsibility?”
”Absolutely. No more hiding behind someone's back, pointing the finger of blame everywhere but at the mirror. They have to produce, and keep increasing production. They have unlimited powers, so if they fail there will be no excuse.”
”I was about to tell you that I heard Mark Penny is adopting the same approach at the White House,” said Panatella.
”He would. The dumb fuck never has any ideas of his own. He has to steal mine. I don't mind. He won't be President much longer, anyway. The election's scheduled for next year, right?”
”It was. But don't you think they might move it, because of all that had happened?”
”I don't know and I don't care. Lea, you cannot imagine how wonderful it feels not to be at the mercy of the moronic mob.”
”You mean the voters?”
”Yeah, I mean the voters. The amount of disgusting people I met when I was campaigning... I tell you, anyone who goes through that hell deserves more than the Presidency. He deserves to be canonized. A saint! That's who you have to be, on the campaign trail.”
”Even Mark Penny?”
”I'm afraid so, yes,” said Panatella, getting her notebook from her handbag. She flipped a few pages and said:
”We kick off at nine with minister Weinberger. He wants to discuss the new financial structure before the vote.”
”Another guy that likes to evade responsibility. Who's next?”
”Nelson Odongo, at eleven.”
”That guy,” Brock said, nodding. He had a swig of bourbon and said:
”I really feel for him. I mean, I've got just fifty one assholes to deal with. He has what, around a hundred and forty?”
”He worked for various aid agencies when he was young,” said Panatella. ”So I'm sure he has plenty of experience dealing with assholes.”
”You're right, let's not worry about Odongo. He's really fucked himself though, hasn't he?”
”What do you mean?”
”Well, he obviously thought that being the leader of the world parliament he'd also head the Colonial Council. And everyone on the Colonial Council will make megabucks, Lea. Speaker of the world parliament, a thousand a month. Peanuts.”
”It really is peanuts,” Panatella said, shocked. ”That's less than welfare before the, you know, in the old times.”
”Welfare? Hah! You know how much the guaranteed minimum income is going to be?”
”Less, I guess.”
”Much less. Ten dollars a month. Everywhere, across the whole world.”
”Ten dollars!”
”Lea, ten dollars or pounds or whatever is going to be the same as a thousand, in the not-so-good old days. Anyway, you and everyone else on my staff have nothing to worry about. I'm paying you all out of my cut, and I'll make sure it's enough so that you have everything you need, and more.”
”Thank you.”
”And on top of that, you'll be getting the ten bucks, too. So will I, like everyone else who is certified as a living, breathing adult. It's not dependent on being out of a job.”
”What about children?”
”What about them?”
”Well, they have to eat too, don't they?”
”Children are the responsibility of their parents,” Brock said firmly. ”The new government is all about giving people back their responsibilities. Anyway, what happens after Odongo?”
”There is a final brainstorming session scheduled at two. Practically everyone will be there, so it will take place in the assembly chamber.”
”Brainstorming? What the fuck? I thought everything has been agreed upon.”
”The final vote is the day after tomorrow. I guess everyone wants to have their say before that, maybe propose something new.”
”A hundred and forty guys, and each will have something to say?”
”Hopefully not. Anyway, not everyone will be there.”
Brock nodded.
”I knew it,” he said. ”I told all those guys: stay here. You go back to your country, you're inviting trouble. You might even get killed, or put in jail.”
”It's happened to a few,” said Panatella.