Now for something a bit different (and longer; breaks my 2,000 word limit by inches). The story takes place not long from now, and kind of sets the stage for the other stories I've been writing. I'm not arrogant enough to call it Wodehousian, but that's what I was aiming: please enjoy, even if I fall far short of the mark.
The Mayor of Energia City sat at his desk in the Penthouse Office/Apartment complex on the top of Machine Towers, home of the Energia City Hall. His body man, and constant companion, Reginald, was at his side.
"Reggie, the problem is that Energia City is a bit small for a man of my talents."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor."
"I mean, I should be, I don't know, President or Governor or something."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor."
"Or even a Mayor of a real city. Say, like a New York or a Los Angeles."
"I believe you would have to move there, Mr. Mayor."
"What. No, that wouldn't do. I can't give up a cushy situation for an uncertain future. Are you sure about having to move to New York or L.A.?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor. Most cities are rather strict about residency requirements."
"No write in candidates?"
"None I am aware of."
"Well, that's rather parochial; requiring a Mayoral candidate to be from around the way. Rather limiting, I think: excludes a lot of really experienced people."
"And yet, there it is."
"It's not that I don't like Energia City, mind you. It's just that, well, the place is not exactly on the map you now; not world class like New York, or London or Dubai."
"I say it was more like Des Moines in a light recession."
"Exactly, Reg, exactly, see, if I were the Mayor of a world class city, why there is no limit to the good I could accomplish. Why, I could flit around the world, meeting with other Mayors: we could discuss the pressing issue of our times and share solutions. That would be rather dashing, don't you think?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor."
"As it is, the only place I can flit now is Yakosoba."
"I believe Yakosoba is a noodle dish, Mr. Mayor. If you are referring to our sister city, it is Yakusoba."
"Whatever it is, it's a damn boring place, as I see it. It’s just a bunch of boats and ports and such; at least by the brochures. No culture or anything exciting."
"Much like Energia City?" Reg said.
"Too much like Energia City. You know, Reg, I emailed the Mayor of Paris--now, there's a city--and asked him if he wouldn't mind our two cities getting into bed as sisters."
"Sounds tantalizing."
"I thought so too, Reg. But he told me to pretty much go pound sand."
"Pound sand doesn't much like a French turn of the phrase."
"Well, his functionary did not quite use those words. The French are very good at turning a phrase. In fact, by the time I finished reading his response I was rather amenable to the idea of pounding sand. This reminds me, I want you to hire a French speech writer."
"I'll write that down, Mr. Mayor."
"Preferably one who speaks English."
"I'd made that assumption."
"You know Reggie; my future is here in Energia City: Home of Rockets!! See, Reggie. Space is very important. It’s just that all these wars and occupations and such are a bothersome distraction."
"They are quiet burdensome."
"Well, the people need a distraction from their distractions. And space exploration is just the ticket."
"The Puget Sound Statistical Area is not known for rockets, Mr. Mayor. Most of that industry is concentrated around the flat states; Arizona, Nevada and such."
"Posh, Reggie. Why between Boeing-Airbus Industries and our great naval yards, the PS2A has moved half the world and blown up the rest. I see no reason why Energia City could not take the lead in introducing the rocket industry to the PS2A, you know, and show those Seattle punks what's for."
"Well, Mr. Mayor, there is a decided lack of interest in the PS2A, at least where rockets are concerned."
"That's why we need a rocket racing franchise up here; it would get peoples blood flowing."
"Well, I would think people would be rather adverse to rocket planes flying around the city; might hit a building, you know."
"Well, yes. You don't suppose people are still hung up about that whole business. I mean it was a one off, and so long ago."
"Voters are still skittish, Mr. Mayor."
"No sense of the future. Well, we could race the rockets over the Sound itself. There are no buildings there, what?"
"True. Ah, Mr Mayor, it's time for your 10 o’clock meeting with Mr. Sven Warlock and his Lawyer."
"Sven Warlock? Do I know him, Reggie?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor. He is a dear friend of yours; he contributes generously and quarterly to your Permanent Revolutionary Campaign."
"Hmmm. I vaguely remember him: business type, right."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor."
"Hmph. A dick and a Slick; well, send them right in, Reggie."
Sven Warlock and his Slick came through the door. Reggie, the perfect body man, seated them by the Mayor’s desk and offered them refreshments. Mr. Warlock, a bit nervous, refused.
“So what can I do for you, Sven old boy?” asked the Mayor.
"Well, see, Mr. Mayor..." Sven Warlock looked hesitantly at his Lawyer. His Lawyer nodded slightly, encouraging Sven along the script. "See, Mr. Mayor, I am gay..."
"What? Gay as in happy or gay as in preferring a right pounding in the..."
"Mr. Mayor, I believe that Sven is declaring himself a Homosexual Constituent." interrupted Reggie.
"Well, hmmm, that is news. Does your wife know?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor. She's very accommodating about the whole matter."
"And your children?"
"They're very broadminded."
"Well, only because you raised them right. Oh. Well. I would have never suspected. Well, damn, Sven, that changes everything. No you can reapply for you Minority Preferential Set Aside; I can't see how the Machine can possibly turn you down now!"
"That's the problem, Mr. Mayor, they did!"
"Why, that's discriminatory!"
"That’s what I said. For some reason, they think my whole goal in going gay is getting Warlock Industries a slice of the whole preferential set aside business."
"That's ridiculous."
"That's what I said. But some low level cog is blocking my application. He keeps bringing up my past applications for an Amerindian Casino, Palestinian Refugee Status and African American Rapper."
"Well that is certainly not fair, Sven. I mean, you were just trying to find yourself, as we all must."
"I'm just trying to find myself."
"And if today, you find yourself liking the..."
Reginald cleared his throat.
"What is it, Reggie? Can't you see I’m having a discussion with my newly Homosexual Friend?"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor. But you have an appointment soon. And it occurred to me that Mr. Warlock, having identified his problem, may have a solution."
"Brilliant Reggie! Well, Sven, do you have some way of unlacing this Gordian Knot?"
"Well, my Slick here," Sven jabbed a fat finger in the direction of his Lawyer, "seems to think that the Mayor’s Ball might be an opportune time for me to come out of the broom closet. He thinks if I show up in the company of a certain Gentleman, a respectable Gentleman, then the Machine will have no choice but to approve my minority set aside."
"Splendid idea. Well, of course you are invited to my Ball. And whatever Gentleman you choose to accompany you; oh, and Mrs. Warlock, also. Well, if that's all it is..."
"Mr. Mayor, my slick suggests a certain Gentleman."
"He does? Who?"
"You, Mr. Mayor."
"Me?! For god's sake, why?"
"Mr. Mayor, if I may," began the Slick." My client is doubly disadvantaged in this instance. I believe there is a tremendous amount of discriminatory bias at the Set Aside Board that my client is forced to overcome; bias against industrialists, particularly married industrialists, who seem, rather suddenly, to be gay. They seem to take the rather cynical position that my clients conversion to the Gay side of the Force is driven by some base profit motive, and not the outcome of an internal struggle he has finally resolved."
"Understandable. But why me?"
"Well, with whom else could my client make such a splash? You are young, handsome, thin...a veritable god-mayor of the city. The press takes a liking to you and you’re from one of the Original Families of the City; your roots go all the way back to the 1970s, when Energia city was little more than a collection of strip malls along the interstate. Who better to counter the base rumors emanating from the Machine?"
"Well," said the Mayor, cautiously," there is the small problem that I am not gay."
"You are not?" said the Slick, surprised.
"Well, no. I am not, am I Reggie?"
"I'll have to check this week’s calendar, but I do believe the Mayor to be correct in his assertion of heterosexuality."
"Rakish heterosexuality," added the Mayor.
"Oh. I thought, I mean, you are so thin, handsome and generally clean, I naturally assumed..."
"Oh, don't worry," the Mayor said, waving his hand, "I don't take it personally. In fact, I find it rather complimentary. You know, Energia City lacks a vibrant Gay Quarter--Sven, I don't think you count--and any world city worth its salt has a vibrant Gay Quarter. In fact, Reggie, take a note: find me some gays."
"I believe the Mayor already has a number of Homosexual Constituents throughout the city."
"Really, well, hmmm. Is their any way, legally, we could round them up and put them in a part of the city in need of revitalization?"
"Like the Hippie Quarter by the University?"
"Gods, no. Not the Hippie Quarter. I wouldn't want to mess with their studies. How about shifting, I don't know, the Black Quarter a bit. Not far; just enough to free up some space so we can wedge in a vibrant Gay Quarter."
"I'll pass your suggestions onto the Machine, Mr. Mayor."
"Good, good."
The Mayor turned back to Sven.
"I can see you have problems, Sven. I recall reading something in the Energia Times about you having some issues with your military contracts."
"I am afraid those reports are true, Mr. Mayor."
"Something about your explosives exploding a bit prematurely."
"Well, now, see the Acquisition Corp never specified..."
"Oh, I can't be bothered with the minutiae of industry. Suffice it to say that these set asides are very important to Warlock Industries."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor."
"And Warlock Industries is very important to my plans of turning Energia City into the Home of Rockets."
"Excuse me?"
"It is my intent, Sven, to make Energia City the world class capital of rockets."
"The exploding kind or the explorer kind?"
"Well, the explorer kind, of course. Though I'd imagine there is a lot of cross pollination between the two."
"Well, Warlock Industries has an excellent track record in exploding rockets. But the explorer kind, well...I mean, don't their engines give you bone cancer or such."
"Bone cancer! No, I hadn't heard that; but look, we could get the Vietnamese to make the bone cancer producing parts. We'd just assemble the whole thing here in Energia City."
"I don't know, Mr. Mayor. I'm not sure Warlock Industries could survive a bone cancer scare..."
"Sven, Sven, Sven. Let's let our Staffs handle the technical issues. You and I are decision makers, we are movers and shakers; those candlesticks won't get made on their own, you know."
"Candlesticks?"
"Sven, what I need from you right now is support. With the prestige of Warlock Industries, why there’s no way the Machine could hold back my plans!"
"Well, they're holding back my minority set asides..."
"Sven, with you and me working together, we can roll the Machine. You get your set asides to help you over this rough patch, I get the prestige of an upstanding business, and together we'll drag Energia City in to the ranks of world class cities. We can't fail!!"
Sven thought about that for a moment.
“Do I still get my set asides, to get Warlock Industries over the rough patches?” Sven asked.
“Sven, you let me handle that. I’m not going to let that ‘ole white debbil’ of a machine keep us down!” the Mayor said, excitedly.
“And you’ll escort me to the Mayor’s Ball, like my Slick suggested.”
“What? Oh, yes, yes. My gods, I see it know. Energia City is on its way to the top, and I am going to ride it straight on up!!”
Reggie escorted Sven and the Lawyer out.
“Reggie, this cannot fail, eh?”
"Except, Mr. Mayor, I believe you promised to escort Ms. Delilah to the Ball."
“Eh? I did.”
“Yes, Mr. Mayor.”
“Oh. Well, that is a problem. How are you going to fix it, Reggie?”
Reggie looked out the picture window and over the Energia City bay.
“I’ll figure something out, Mr. Mayor. I always do.”
Comments