by Jen Cole
Chapter 5
Martin had been a little surprised by Operation Pied Piper. True, nobody was hurt, but many of the children on finding themselves abandoned in strange new houses had been distressed, despite the bots’ assurances that their parents would soon arrive. When he mentioned to Eileen that it wasn’t like her to upset children, she’d simply shrugged.
“I’m making these people a gourmet omelette,” she’d said, as Chi-chi arrived with the tea. “I can’t weep over a few broken eggs.”
The months went by and as progress continued, so too did the change in his wife. It seemed power had given her the confidence and purpose that money alone had failed to do. In her obsession to create a beautiful working city, Eileen was gradually coming to view the Keggans less as poor creatures needing help than as obstacles to her goal. Each step forward was a great victory to be celebrated in the bedroom and if she ever came looking for him in the afternoon, he knew what she wanted.
At first he’d enjoyed his wife’s more assertive desires, but it quickly became clear she viewed his role in the Governorship deal as doing all the pleasuring, and he soon began to understand how a concubine must feel.
On a warm afternoon as he wandered the far reaches of the grounds in an effort to stay out of her way, he spotted a gardener stepping from what seemed to be an impenetrable hedge. In the past Martin wouldn’t have given it a thought but boredom had sharpened his curiosity, and waiting for the gardener to depart, he went to investigate. The hedge, he discovered, was hiding a door, on the other side of which was a tiny memorial garden. The four graves in the middle were marked with beautifully polished stones. Each held a picture of a Governor but unlike the smiling faces on the palace walls, the expressions on these were severe. Apparently the year of leadership had taken its toll.
The Keggans had answered vaguely when Eileen asked them what happened to the previous Governors, implying they’d served their year and then departed. Too busy to investigate, she’d taken them at their word. He shivered. His wife must never learn of this garden.
On returning, Martin headed to the kitchens for a snack and found Chi-chi preparing the tea. As she got out the green and purple cups, he counted at least thirty tea canisters behind her on the shelves.
“Do you mix those blends?”
“That is my job. I was taught the art by my grandmother who was herself a tea-maiden to a Governor.”
“I guess a little bit of everything goes into the Governor’s tea,” he joked.
“The Governor’s tea is a most secret recipe.”
“I’m sure you mix it to perfection,” he said. “What exactly is it supposed to do?”
She lifted the tray. “It helps the Governor do her job.”
He tagged along behind her to the war room, as his wife now called it. They’d only just entered when a red light began flashing above one of the screens. Chi-chi turned her back to it and began setting out the tea things. Eileen looked around.
“Ah, Martin, you’re just in time for some fun. Over here.” She waved him towards the screen under the red light. It displayed a number of bots operating road-making machinery. The process had halted because a large Keggan was standing in their way. Eileen picked up a microphone and whispered two words. “Do it.”
One of the bots approached the Keggan and spoke. Martin heard its tinny machine voice – manual labor bots weren’t equipped with anything fancy.
“Excuse me, sir. We are trying to make a road here. Could you please step out of the way?”
Never having seen a Keggan go into sharka, Martin stumbled backwards as this one exploded into fury. Fur stood up all over, and its mouth stretched into a fanged howl as claws raked the bot with blurring speed. A human would have been reduced to pulp in seconds but the bot just stood there, its toughened metal hide barely scratched. The assault went on for almost three minutes before the Keggan collapsed. The bot carried it quietly to one side, and the road works recommenced.
Eileen turned to her husband and grinned. “Who said you couldn’t get a Keggan to move?”
Shocked, Martin licked his lips. “Is he dead?”
“Shouldn’t be. Mind you, the sharka takes its toll. It flushes out of their system once their victims die, so normally they wouldn’t experience it for more than a minute. Much longer and they themselves collapse as this one did. He was strong. He had the hormone in his veins for almost three minutes.” Eileen leant forward, peering at the screen. “He’s all right. Can you see him beginning to move? Come on, let’s have some tea.”
Martin glanced at another display showing a freshly made road. Keggans wandered along it and, he thought, no doubt appreciated their new freedom of movement. He noticed that anyone standing still for more than a few seconds jumped and looked around before moving on.
“What’s happening there?” he said.
Eileen laughed. “No point in clearing away the Keggans and building roads if they’re only going to settle back down on them. Sewers, water and electricity run under those roads, along with a sensor system. When the sensors detect a stationary mass of over twenty kilograms they begin a countdown. After thirty seconds they direct an electric current through the road to the mass. While not severe enough to do real harm, it’s unpleasant and encourages Keggans to move along.”
As she calmly picked up her teacup, Martin marveled. Eight months into her Governorship, he barely recognized his wife. Was she aware of the change in herself, he wondered, and if so did she care? It was true she’d made outstanding progress, and so far with only minor upsets to the Keggans, but the hardest part was still to come. The homes of thousands of diehard families not yet fooled by her tricks still lined the canals, while seepage from the toilet pits fouled the waters. Surely only real violence would move that lot. Eileen had come a long way, but could she resort to that kind of force? Unless she did there would be no uprising against her and an uprising, Martin felt sure, was how the other Governors had died.
Chi-chi loaded the empty teacups onto the tray.
He reached for it. “I’ll carry this for you. I’m going past the kitchen anyway.”
She hesitated and then dropped her paws. “Thank you Governor husband.”
Since Eileen had accepted the job they’d been calling him that, relegating him to accessory status. Though it galled, knowledge of the wealth he’d soon be inheriting helped Martin hide his anger. As they passed down the corridor, he said casually, “You didn’t tell me in what way this special tea helps the Governor.”
When Chi-chi failed to answer, he stopped and put the tray on a hall table. “I am the Governor husband,” he declared. “I am here because the Governor needs me to help her succeed. Your special tea may not be the best thing to give her. Unless I know what it does, I’ll have to advise her not to drink any more.”
Chi-chi’s teeth began to chatter – a sign, he’d come to learn, which indicated nervousness in Keggans. “Please, Governor husband, I must keep serving the Governor her tea.”
“Then explain its effect. If it really does help I assure you I’ll have no objection.”
She sighed – an action he’d also learnt meant so much more than a human sigh. It was a minor surrender.
“Saunders, our first Governor, explained some of the ways we are similar to Earth people. Our brain chemistry can be influenced by different teas, and so can yours.” She paused.
“Go on.”
“He also told us that when humans become leaders, their brains begin changing.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” said Martin.
“Saunders assured my people it’s built into your genetic makeup, kicking in when a human takes on a leadership role. The changes that occur in a leader’s brain result in improved concentration, an increase in the release of a hormone you call testosterone, and a decrease in the ability to empathize. These changes help leaders to act swiftly and with confidence when making decisions that can disadvantage some in order to protect the majority.”
Ma
rtin frowned. “Can’t say I’ve noticed great personality changes in those with leadership positions, though a lot of leaders do seem to be dickheads.”
“Did you know them before they were leaders?” she asked. “In any case, the changes to the brain of a leader take place slowly in the beginning, particularly in those with a great deal of natural empathy, such as the humans who volunteer to be our Governors.”
Martin held up a hand. “I get it. Your special tea speeds up the natural changes happening in the Governors’ brains.”
“Correct, which enables the Governors to be effective more quickly.”
Martin reached for the tray. “Then I agree the tea is necessary. A Governor who pussyfoots around for too long may not fix your problem before a plague takes hold. I have no objection to your serving it.”