by Jen Cole
Chapter 4
“If only a human would step in to help us,” said Tik-a-ka. “We would all be so grateful.”
Martin looked at his wife.
“I can’t do it,” she said. “I have responsibilities back on Earth.”
“The Governorship is only for a year,” he murmured. “This place could be turned around in that time. Thousands of children saved.”
She asked Tik-a-ka, “Would I have to stand for election?”
The guide blinked. “Our situation is dire. You need only state your willingness, and the position is yours.”
“I’ll think about it,” Eileen said.
On reaching their hotel room, she barely waited for Tik-a-ka to leave. “Well?”
Mutely Martin took her hands.
“Say something, Darling. I need your opinion on this.”
Feeling the tension in her fingers, he realized his next words could make or break the deal. He drew a deep breath. “You’re a good person, Eileen, much better than me. I won’t say what I’d prefer you to do for my own selfish reasons. Today we’ve seen needs far greater than mine, so all I’ll say is, as ever, you have my support in whatever you choose. You always make the right decision.”
Had he laid it on too thick? No, her back straightened and the old do-gooder spirit lit up her eyes. She tightened her hands on his.
“Thank you, darling. Your support means so much. Governorship is a huge undertaking, but the livelihood of a whole species is at stake. We’ll stay, and I will do my utmost to stop this looming apocalypse.”
He pulled her into his arms, feeling the rapid beating of both their hearts. Passion ignited them. Like new lovers they tore off each other’s clothes and for the first time in their marriage Martin didn’t need to overlay his wife’s image with that of another woman. Eileen was going to die and make him rich. Tonight she was perfect.
When she informed Tik-a-ka of her decision the next morning, the Keggan bowed lower than ever before. “The gratitude of my people is unbounded,” she said.
“Do you have any of the town planning documents and charts made by my predecessors?” Eileen asked. “They’d be a good place to start.”
“They are stored in the palace vaults. We can go there immediately.”
They set off briskly, making good time in the coolness of the morning, but as they approached the pillars, Martin stopped in shock. The palace walls were now decorated with five images. His wife’s face smiled down upon them.
Eileen was also startled. “I’ve only just accepted the Governorship,” she said.
Tik-a-ka bared her fangs in a Keggan smile. “Last night, in the hope this would be your decision, our artisans prepared the palace.”
They reached the steps, which were now scrubbed clean. Two Keggans at attention pulled the doors open.
“You have a staff of ten,” said Tik-a-ka. “If you need more, let us know. They will guard the palace, prepare your meals, perform secretarial duties and clean.”
Eileen gasped as they stepped inside. Martin reached for her hand and squeezed it. The transformation was exquisite. No doubt about the Keggans’ gift for artwork and design. The rooms held such warmth and welcome he found himself saying, “We should send for our things and check out of the hotel.”
“Already done,” Tik-a-ka chittered as several porters brought in their suitcases. “The Palace of Governance is your home now. You will be working hard for us so it is only right that we make your stay as comfortable as possible.”
Eileen shook her head. “This is breathtaking. I only hope I’m able to live up to your confidence in me.”
Tik-a-ka showed them around, finishing in a large room filled with computers and audiovisual equipment. “Your working area.”
“Why all the screens?” said Martin.
“They were installed by a previous Governor. While your wife fixes our mess it will not be safe for you outside. On an intellectual level, everyone is grateful we have a Governor to take on this task, and we all know some relocation of housing will be necessary. Unfortunately that will not stop us becoming sharka when our territory is threatened. It means you must find ways to reorganize our people from the safety of the palace. Installing cameras in the streets will enable you to view your progress on these screens.”
She pulled a key from a pocket of her leotard. “This opens the basement treasury. It contains the taxes of our people from the last six years. You may use the funds as you see fit.”
Tik-a-ka departed and Eileen sat heavily in one of the chairs. “What have I got myself into?”
Before Martin could answer, a Keggan in a purple leotard entered carrying a tray with two teapots and crockery. She introduced herself as Chi-chi, and watching her set out mismatched cups, Martin decided she must still be in training.
Selecting a teapot, she poured a stream into a tiny purple cup, but as he reached for it, she hissed. He looked up to see the fur rising on her arms, and stepped back hurriedly. For good measure he tucked hands under his armpits and bowed. When he dared to peek, he noticed Eileen had adopted a similar posture and that the Keggan’s fur was beginning to settle. Thank God he hadn’t actually touched the cup. But didn’t Tik-a-ka say the offer of tea came with permission to take it?
It was another minute before Chi-chi was able to explain. “The tea in the purple cup is for the Governor. Only she has permission to touch it.” The Keggan poured from the second teapot into the dark green cup. “This tea is for you,” she said to Martin. “It will provide energy for the day.”
“Doesn’t my tea give energy?” said Eileen. “I’m going to need as much as possible for the task ahead.”
The Keggan bared her teeth. “Your tea gives energy, but also much more as befits the Governor.”
She waited until the two had drained their cups and then took everything away.
“Whew,” Eileen laughed. “I’m glad we don’t have more than ten on staff. I can see we’ll be treading on eggshells around them.”
Another Keggan entered carrying rolls of paper. “I am Teti, your personal assistant,” she told Eileen. “I have brought the town planning documents drawn up by previous Governors.”
As Teti began spreading them on the table, Eileen turned to Martin. “No need for you to sit through this. Go unpack and explore. I have hours of study ahead.”
As the weeks went by, Martin settled into a comfortable routine, rising at around nine to enjoy a leisurely breakfast, and then reading for a while in the conservatory or taking a swim in the pool before lunch, at which Eileen, who’d been working frantically from six in the morning, would join him. Over their meal she’d describe her progress and he was always impressed.
She’d come up with an idea for relocating poorly situated Keggans with a minimum of distress for all. Bringing in dozens of bots from Earth, she’d set them to work creating a satellite city with proper utilities and good housing at the far edge of Keggan settlement.
Because the new city was so distant, Keggan workers and bots were building a monorail to reach it. The elevated rail meant Keggans could never settle on it and stop the trains from running. Seats in the carriages were designed with partitions, which enabled passengers to sit without touching and doors locked automatically when a carriage was full to prevent excess Keggans entering and standing in the aisles where they might be jostled against one another by the movement of the train.
“So far the building projects have progressed well,” said Eileen, a couple of months into her governorship. “The real difficulty will be moving those currently living in unsuitable locations to the new city without bloodshed, but I have an idea for that.”
Initially her idea worked brilliantly. Keggans whose houses blocked areas Eileen had planned for footpaths and roads, were sent a key along with a notification that they had won a house in the new State Lottery instigated by the Governor. This aroused excitement and curiosity, and many took a day trip to visit the satellite city and inspect their prize. On retu
rning, they found their old houses razed and their furnishings already in transit to their new ones. They’d been ‘moved’ by invisible hands, and there was no one to rage against. Eileen was inordinately proud of this violence-free ploy, but unfortunately word of the trick spread quickly and it stopped working long before enough people had been relocated.
Her next maneuver she called Operation Pied Piper. After the adults had left for work, prettily decorated bots descended, throwing sweets into the air and calling out to the children that any who wished could join the grand adventure of a train ride ending in a wonderful picnic. At first just a few came out. Then more and more joined in until finally a stream of Keggan children followed the bots to the train, which took them to a park in the satellite city and a lavish picnic. Afterwards they were shown their new homes and told their parents would soon be arriving. Meanwhile, notes were delivered to workplaces, informing parents of the situation. Keggans downed tools and rushed to get their children, but on bringing them back, they found their old homes demolished and the empty land barricaded with electrified fencing.