Careful Measurements

by Layne D. Hansen

  This guy is a radical leftist ideologue. I wouldn’t even call him a Marxist, really. That would be putting it very lightly. Go through the dossier. Just know that whatever he has planned, it’s not going to be good. Extreme measures may be necessary to deal with this situation.

  Your Buddy,

  Wildcat

  It was as if his old friend, now private investigator, had reached into Patton’s brain and extracted the very words he’d been thinking of since he met Charlie Henry—or Harrell. The attached dossier was over forty printed pages, including mugshots from Henry’s arrests in Detroit, Seattle, and Los Angeles. There were police reports, a copy of Henry’s FBI file and an outline of what was in the CIA file. The fact that Henry had a CIA file was incredible. Outside of that revelation, there were several statements in the document that caught his eye.

  “Henry was a second or third tier personality in the Students for a Democratic Society organization,” the dossier read. “He tried several times to get accepted into the more radical Weather Underground. According to one ‘Weather’ member, Henry was an intellectual lightweight, seen as a coward, unwilling to earn his stripes.”

  This revelation filled in some of the missing picture for Patton. Charles Henry was a Sixties radical, still bent on making his mark, much like the other members of the SDS and Weather Underground. After realizing that a revolution was never going to happen, those people wised up, put on collared shirts and ties and earned college degrees. Some wrote papers and got jobs with federal agencies where they could bring about their “change” in more meaningful ways. And not only that, they could do it under the guise of being legitimate members of society.

  Patton shook his head in disgust, remembering how he felt in 2008 when Barack Obama shot to power, bringing so many Sixties radicals on board to help him “fundamentally transform the United States of America,” as he’d put it then. If the media would’ve done its job and vetted Obama and his radical associations, he never would have entered the race let alone won two terms. Now, in a small town created to serve as an experiment, the old playbook was being used. Take a young, handsome, dynamic person and sell them to an electorate as the next messiah. Plaster their face on billboards and TV, never let him answer a serious question, and watch him rise to power.

  However, what could Patton do with this information about Charlie Henry? This Asher punk was already a media darling just like Obama had been. Would he eliminate any chance that Mike Wilson had to win by trying to make the connection between Asher and Henry, or would the move be seen as crying wolf? Probably both, but the only the chance they had to beat David Asher was to connect him to someone unpalatable like Charlie Henry. That thought sealed it—they were going to slash and burn with this or they were going to lose. It was a risky strategy but Patton knew that it was the only chance they had to win.

  Patton vowed that he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  Mike Wilson hated having to wear makeup and he hated the bright lights shining in his face. Most of all, he hated having this brash pretty boy as an opponent, but there was nothing he could do about that. Tonight was his one and only chance to land a blow that would hurt David Asher’s candidacy, but he knew he’d have very few opportunities to do so. Mike knew that he had to be aggressive because the moderator of the debate was unlikely to give any openings.

  “And so, I think we need this government to bring some stability to this experiment. I mean, honestly, I think the people that set this up were negligent when they didn’t set up a government at the same time,” Asher said confidently. “Look at all that has happened since we got here last March. The murder of the Gruber family. The fires. The burglaries and vandalizing of stores downtown. Now, with a government in place would any of that have happened?”

  “Rebuttal Mr. Wilson?” the moderator asked.

  Mike nodded and cleared his throat.

  “First of all, let me touch on one thing Mr. Asher just said. When it comes right down to it, laws are theoretical. Back in Texas we had laws that were broken every day. Murder. Rape. Arson. Burglary. Just because a government passes a law doesn’t mean that it can’t be broken.”

  Asher snorted in derision at the answer, which made Mike all the more willing to go for his Hail Mary attempt later on.

  “Well, I’d like for Mr. Asher to show me how I’m wrong. Had a government existed already when the crimes he mentioned happened, would they have been prevented? If Mr. Asher thinks so, what’s his proof?”

  “Would you like to answer this Mr. Asher?” the moderator asked.

  “Yes, I would. The problem with this thinking is that it’s based on the idea that human beings can control themselves. History has proven that they cannot. Laws are established to keep man from moving to his nature.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Mike scoffed. “This is exactly my point. Crime happens no matter what laws are in existence.”

  Asher knew that he’d made a mistake and he tried to interject but the moderator wanted to move on.

  “Mr. Wilson, this has been a lively debate but we’re running out of time. Before we have our closing statements, would you like to ask your question of Mr. Asher?”

  Mike nodded and opened up a manila folder he had on his lectern. “This will need some background before I ask him the question,” he said to the moderator. She nodded and he smiled at her. It was the first time she’d allowed him any leeway during the entire debate.

  “The biggest problem with this town and the idea that we would elect leaders is that we are all new here. Everyone has come from different parts of the country. We all come from different walks of life. We have no real way of knowing if people are being honest. And that is why I’m leery at the idea of establishing a government in the way that Mr. Asher would have it.

  “And I include myself in that assertion. You folks don’t know me either. I’m glad we’ve had the chance to be seen and heard by the people of Blue Creek tonight and hopefully they’ll have a better idea of who we are and what we stand for. But that brings me to the question. It has come to my attention that Mr. Asher has associated himself with some people, who I think do not represent the mainstream thinking that we have in this country and here in Blue Creek.”

  With these words, Asher’s face turned bright red for a moment. Unfortunately for him, the camera caught his reaction.

  “It has come to my attention that Mr. Asher has been in consultation with a man named Charles Henry. If you’ll remember, Mr. Henry was part of the self-appointed committee that is organizing this push for government. My concern is that Mr. Henry has a very shady political past and has some views that most people would find disturbing …”

  Anna swore under her breath and looked over at Charlie. Her face had gone ashen white and she suddenly wanted to vomit. Charlie was on the edge of his seat now, his elbows planted on his knees.

  “. . . Mr. Henry was involved in some violent groups during the 1960s and 1970s. He was a member of the Students for a Democratic Society, and it has since been proven that it had ties to the Soviet Union during that time. Mr. Henry became disillusioned by SDS and wanted to join the Weather Underground. If that sounds familiar it’s because Barack Obama associated himself with a Weather Underground member named William Ayers.

  “The Weather group bombed the Pentagon and was responsible for many deaths, including the robbery of an armored car and death of a policeman. Although Mr. Henry was not accepted into the group, the mere fact that he wanted to join that group says a lot about him.”

  “Charlie?” Anna said pleadingly, prodding his shoulder to get his attention.

  “Shhh!” he said, slapping her hand away. “I’m trying to listen.”

  “Mr. Henry had files with the FBI and the CIA. It has been verified that Mr. Henry left the United States and went to Cuba where he met Fidel Castro in person. The FBI file mentions the fact that Mr. Henry was also tr
ying to get into the Soviet Union, although it doesn’t specify what his motives were.”

  “How the hell did they find this out?” Anna exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

  “This isn’t good. I hope this kid is up to this,” Charlie said, swallowing nervously.

  Patton’s posture was similar to Charlie’s, but his was due to eager anticipation, not apprehension.

  “We know that both Henry and Asher are associated with these two people,” Mike said, holding up photos of Anna and Travis. “The woman is Anna Radinski. She is a registered member of Microcosm and was officially accepted as an official participant of the Blue Creek experiment. However, this young man is not. She was also a member of the committee. His first name is Travis, but my campaign wasn’t able to discover his last name. He is here without permission. What he is doing here is only a matter for speculation at this point …”

  Jennifer yelled, clapping her hands and grinning at Patton.

  Patton returned the smile then returned his attention to the TV.

  “This young man has been seen with both David Asher and Charles Henry since this campaign has begun. Also,” Mike said holding up a grainy photo taken from Patton’s security video, “he was part of a group that illegally broke into a Blue Creek resident’s home.”

  Charlie swore viciously. Not just angry at himself, but angry with Travis and Anna and Asher for letting this slip away. His greatest nightmare was coming true.

  “So my question is, Mr. Asher, who is this Travis character and why are you associated with a man who used to be involved in the SDS and Weather Underground?”

  TV viewers could see David Asher swallow visibly and tug at his shirt collar. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. He swallowed again and then tried to smile.

  “That was two questions,” Asher said chuckling. The joke fell flat and he knew it. He was trapped. “Well …” the pause went on for a brutally painful few seconds. “However you received this information, I can tell you that I don’t know anyone named Travis or Charles. I know a woman named Anna, but that has nothing to do with this campaign.”

  The moderator tried to stop the carnage but Mike beat her to the punch.

  “So if a video and photos surfaced of you meeting with this Travis what would your response be?”

  Asher swallowed again and reached for his cup of water that was on his lectern. He felt like an animal in a trap.

  “I would say that if such a video or picture existed then it would be a coincidence that I met him … look,” he said, gesturing awkwardly with his hands but beginning to feel a surge of confidence come back. “This is ridiculous. My question is if there are videos of me and people I may have met, why were they taken in the first place? Isn’t that illegal behavior?

  “And furthermore,” Asher continued, speaking over Mike Wilson’s attempt to interrupt, “I think that this is political gamesmanship, pure and simple. Mr. Wilson and his people are trying to link me to some shady characters in a desperate ploy to derail my campaign. I’d say show us the video and the pictures if you really have them. There is an innocent explanation I’m sure. Look, we’ve all come here, like Mr. Wilson said, from different parts of the country. We’ve been here for less than a year. There are thirty thousand people and you’re accusing me of consorting with shady characters. It’s kind of James Bond isn’t it?”

  Some members in the audience cheered and laughed at the last part and the moderator had to silence them. It was a good retort, Patton thought. However, Asher didn’t know that Patton wanted him to call their bluff. They already had an interview scheduled for TV the next day, exclusively with just Mike Wilson. They would then upload all of their videos to the microcosm.org website. Asher had gambled, not knowing his opponent had four aces.

  “So in conclusion,” Mike Wilson said, still confident that his bombshell was still resonating, “I think that it is very important that we are careful about what type of government we establish and, more importantly, who we put in as our leaders. I have offered myself for interviews. I have been open and honest about my past, about who I am and what I want to do. I know that there is a lot of enthusiasm for Mr. Asher here but let’s be cautious about jumping the gun and electing him.

  “But more than that, I don’t want this to be a vote against Mr. Asher, I want you people to vote for me. Thank you and I hope that you will consider your decision very carefully. Good night.”

  Between the allegations Mike Wilson made during the debate and his appearance on TV the next morning, there was a giant change in the feeling surrounding the Asher campaign, which was now in total damage control mode.

  “Is he out of Blue Creek?” Charlie asked Anna, referring to Travis.

  “Yes,” she said, swallowing hard. “We got him out last night.”

  Charlie nodded. That was the first step. The next best thing the two of them could do was to lie low and get Asher’s face out in front of this mess.

  “When is David going on TV?” he asked, much more calmly than he was feeling at the moment.

  She took a long swig of water then answered, “Tonight. Six o’clock.”

  Charlie nodded again. “Good time. People are usually watching TV then.” He made as if he was going to stand up but stopped. “Oh, and make sure we get access to the video of what he says so we can put it on the intranet later.”

  “I will. We’ve been working on what he should say. I’ll email it to you when we have it done.”

  “Okay,” he said, standing and walking to the door. As he opened it he said, “Just let him know that the whole thing could fall apart if he doesn’t say the right thing tonight.”

  “He knows,” she said, trying to assure him. “Charlie, we’ve come way too far to let it all fall apart right now. Trust me, he’ll have them eating out the palm of his hand.”

  And she was right, Charlie knew. That was part of the reason he hated Asher so much. Worse, however, was the fact that Charlie needed Asher to get his hands on the reins of power.

  “So what do you make of these allegations, the videos and the photographs?” the attractive female blond reporter asked David Asher.

  A picture from the night before flashed in his memory. He smiled, thinking how much more attractive this reporter was naked than dressed.

  “Well Ashley, I think that Mr. Wilson knows that this campaign has gotten away from him and that he is desperate to bring it back to a point that he can possibly win it. And more than that, I think it’s reprehensible that these people would follow other people around like that. Recording and taking clandestine pictures of these people …” he said. He shook his head, unable to finish his thought.

  The reporter agreed with him but she had to at least appear to be playing devil’s advocate.

  “But Mr. Wilson says that since there are no laws on the books right now, so how can these acts be illegal?”

  Asher took a deep breath, glad she tossed him a softball question.

  “Well, technically he’s right, of course. But this guy is all about the Constitution right? That’s all he seems to talk about. We haven’t officially adopted the Constitution yet, yet he seems to hold us to that standard. And then he has the nerve to throw these pictures and videos around like they mean something.”

  She gave him a quizzical look and asked, “They don’t?”

  Asher chuckled, smiling his most charming smile.

  “It’s a ridiculous charge. Okay, they have pictures of me sitting next to a guy in a bar. Big deal. To the left of this ‘Travis’ person is yet another person. Is Wilson looking into that guy too?”

  “That’s a fair point,” she said, knowing that if she said it, her audience would think it. She was relaxed now, as was he. She was lofting the softballs up and he was crushing them.

  “What about this Charles Henry person?” she asked him.

  Asher grimaced and shoo
k his head. “It’s another farce. Look, if this Travis is in league with this Charles Henry person, what does that have to do with me?”

  The reporter had no answer so she went to Wilson’s talking points.

  “Mr. Wilson says that it’s dangerous to elect a person they don’t know … someone who might be tied to a Sixties radical. How do you answer to that?”

  Asher leaned back and looked at her. A camera picked up the move and made it appear as if he was talking directly to the audience.

  “I won’t answer to it because it’s a desperate political ploy. Look, it’s clear from polls that you and others have run that this race hasn’t been very close for a while now. I think this is all about getting Mr. Wilson back into the race. I don’t see how anyone could think it’s anything more than that.”

  Without taking his eyes off of the TV Charlie dialed Anna’s number. She picked up after one ring.

  “He did it,” he said without emotion.

  She was giddy and it took her a second to compose herself.

  “Yes! He did! It’s over. We did it Charlie!”

  “Tell him good job from me,” Charlie said then hung up. He knew what the two would be doing tonight to celebrate and he didn’t want to think about it. Charlie knew that the election was basically over and he had to credit Asher for getting the ball across the goal line. Now, he had a new set of plans to work on.

  Patton had come to the same conclusion as Charlie Henry. They had David Asher on the ropes but he wriggled free with his slick answers in his TV interview. The final round of elections were held a week later, but to Patton and Mike, it was a foregone conclusion—David Asher was going to be elected Blue Creek’s first governor.

  And it happened just that way. The silver lining, however, was that it was much closer than either of them could have foreseen. Like with the first round, David Asher got off onto a huge lead, but then the business owners got out to vote and closed the gap. By the time that ninety percent of the vote had been counted, Wilson had closed the gap to five percentage points. After that, however, the count leveled off and Asher won by a convincing eight percent.