by Matt Rogers
Chapter 39
The inside was a stage of disarray. Representatives from around the world were running around with their hands in the air trying to be heard. The General Secretary was on stage attempting to calm the participants. In the gallery, sitting patiently were the main players in the event. The United States was waiting her turn while the Iron Curtain sat in defiant determination.
“Quiet! I will have everyone removed if we cannot settle down and listen to what our fellow nations have to say!” he yelled.
The crowd’s enthusiasm and excitement died a bit so he went further.
“Everyone take their sets right now! The World Body will come to order!”
The mingling and accusations completely subsided as the representatives for the population of the world finally complied to the Secretary’s wishes.
When order had been restored he called on the first player to make their case.
“The body recognizes the United States.”
She stood her full height and held her chin high for she was always aware the eyes of the world were watching.
“Hello, everyone, this is Nick Price with the Channel Five First at Five Fifty-Five News. We have trouble in the United Nations. We are going live to our brand new soon-to-be award-winning reporter, Wally Thornburg. Wally are you there?”
“Yep! Uh-huh, you betcha I’m right here, Nick!”
The image of the stoutly reporter standing in front of the world building came into view.
“Wally, what can you tell us is going on at the United Nations as we speak?”
“Well, Nick, I can’t really say.”
The anchorman came back on-screen.
“You can’t say? Why, is it a closed door session?”
The image of the reporter took over.
“Um, no, they pretty much allow us access anytime we want. It’s just, well, our producers told me to stand outside to give my report and since everything is happening inside I can’t be all too sure what is happening as I speak.”
The scene shifted to show the anchorman literally pulling his hair out.
“I meant what has been transpiring, Wally. Can you tell us what has happened since the last time you reported in?”
The camera shifted again.
“Oh yeah, I can sure do that, Nick! All right, since my last report things have gotten quite testy in the building behind me. There are now two separate worlds inside; those siding with America and those against. As of ten minutes ago the country count was even but the population numbers, well, those are something completely different.”
“What about the population numbers, Wally?”
“Well, Nick, it appears the free-loving countries of the world are not so free with reproduction. It looks like the Western Bloc, America’s side, has a little problem with people proliferation.”
“People proliferation?”
“Yep! People proliferation. We are not as proliferrant as those of the Eastern Bloc. My understanding is the countries on the other side of the divide are proliferating at an alarming pace and currently hold a two to one edge over our side.”
The scene shifted back to the anchorman.
“What does that mean, Wally?”
And shifted back again.
“It means they’re having a lot more babies than us, Nick.”
The control room didn’t know where to shift to next because they had a closed-circuit view of the anchorman and weren’t sure it would be professional to show him throwing his coffee mug across the room in exacerbation. They made a command decision not to press a button.
“I meant, what does the people population have to do with what’s occurring inside the United Nations, Wally?”
“Oh! Sorry about that. All right, I’ve been told by some military authorities that having more soldiers is a good thing. Apparently people are pretty darn important when it comes to warfare and since they have so many more people than us they have a slight advantage in the body bag department.”
“The body bag department?”
“Yes, Nick, body bags. I’m not exactly sure what the man meant but he said the country who could produce the most body bags was going to win. I went on the internet to find some of these body bags but was unsuccessful determining which bags he was talking about.”
The control room finally had enough and changed the view to that of the anchorman.
“Thank you very much, Wally, for that insightful report.”
“You’re welcome, Nick!” the beer-belied reporter shouted.
“We now take you live to Tim Tidbit who has been on special assignment. Tim, are you there?”
The screen altered and the reporter with charm and sex appeal appeared.
“Yes, Nick, I’m here.”
“Tim, can you tell us what you’ve been working on since last we talked?”
The reporter with the boyish charm and male-model appeal looked directly into the camera and women everywhere glanced at their husbands with disappointment. Tim Tidbit had arrived. He’d finally broken through and was tapped to perform the service he so desperately desired.
“Well, Nick, our producers made an interesting discovery when they went back to watch footage of the main players in the drama unfolding throughout the world.”
“What was that, Tim?”
“One man, Nick. One secret individual who kept appearing with those who held power. We decided to find out who this man was and were met with a brick wall of silence where the information age was concerned. We couldn’t find a single reference to this gentleman but were able to interview those he secretly met with. It appears he is some kind of security expert who has been advising the leaders of the world for some time now. He goes by the name of Nat Hallowed and we have been tracking his progress since the last time we spoke. As luck would have it we are right now, at this very moment, within ten feet of the gentleman and it is our intention to ask him what he has been saying those who would take us to war.”
Tim had always dreamed of aggressive reporting. He’d been a fan of the local stations when they went out and embarrassed the subject they’d been secretly stalking with questions the perpetrator had no idea were coming. To Tim it was the press’ job to go behind the scenes, get down and dirty with the lowlifes of the world and expose their wrongdoings to the nation as a whole.
The control booth was on edge. They were not experienced in ambush reporting and were worried they wouldn’t be ready with screen-change authority. They’d given permission to the young reporter after their union reps acceded due to fanatical female fervor. He could do no wrong, he was the day’s news, reporting and receiving with rave reviews. He walked up to the man who held the secrets they needed, paused, primped and then proceeded.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Nat turned to look at the person tapping him on the shoulder. When he did the unexpected occurred and a microphone appeared. He was not in an opening mood. His job was to monitor, not to be monitored. It ran against every grain of his schooling and experience. Behind the scenes was where the power lay, never in front. Oh, in front money and fame were obtainable but so were ridicule and second-guessing. The people who held power were not the kind who wished to share their viewpoint with those did not. It never worked out well when they did because the game was a bit more complicated, more layered than what every day, uninitiated others might be able to comprehend. While one might be siding with a specific idea it could have absolutely nothing to do with the idea itself. It might very well be a power play or a secret plan to achieve something else by implementing what they didn’t really want in the first place. Sometimes mistakes were encouraged to show the public a better way. The last thing he wished was happening at that very moment.
“Yes?” he finally answered hoping the reporter was merely lost.
“Hello, I’m Tim Tidbit with Channel Five News. May I ask you a couple of questions?”
He sighed for he realized he was the subject of the reporter’s curiosity, he just wasn�
�t aware of what his curiosity contained. Furthermore he didn’t have time for question and answer games. He was attempting to navigate the waters of world opinion and find a way to ease the nuclear option into one merely containing the loss of Human life. He opted for playing dumb.
“I’m sorry, you probably want one of the United Nations representatives. I’m merely an observer to the proceedings and…”
“Then why, Mr. Hallowed, have you been seen in the company of Governor Austin Travis, Secretary General Ahmad Rasheed, the Chancellor from Germany, the King of Spain, the…”
Nat decided the dumb option was out so he played the secret option instead.
“I’m sorry but I have no comment at this time.”
He figured that was it. The easiest way out was to act like you were in and revealing things would violate agreements.
“Then you will leave us no choice, Mr. Hallowed. We will run with the information we obtained from those you did meet. If you don’t want to tell your side of the story then we obviously can’t make you.”
Nat was okay with that. He’d seen enough news programming to know what was news one day was past history the next. Also, he was becoming quite worried with the tone the representative from Russia was taking.
“The United States of America has shown her true colors. They are not red, white and blue, they are green. Such as the green lands of her neighbors she wishes to possess, the green money she values above all, the green tint of jealousy she inspires throughout the world and the greenhouse effect she is responsible for causing. We, the people of Russia reject her imperialistic ways and are ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with our former comrades of Cuba in resisting her desire for world domination.”
The audience was in full revolt. Side bets were happening everywhere as positions were taken and then reinforced through treaties written on the spot to ensure allies would come to each other’s aid in case the previously unthinkable but currently unavoidable clashes of superpowers were to take place.
“The United States does not take threats from second-class powers and will do what is in the best interests of her citizenry. No vodka-swilling, fur-cap wearing Neanderthal can deter her from protecting the sovereign right to govern her own waters and remove a dangerous foe from her midst” the American ambassador responded.
Nat was watching as the mouthpieces of societies were talking their way into something they would be unable to retreat from. He was watching ego and bravado overtake commonsense.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make a statement, Mr. Hallowed?” Tim asked in a somewhat confused tone for he was slightly disoriented the man hadn’t agreed to answer his questions the first time. He’d watched uncountable interviews and never had they begun with the subject not speaking. He was realizing a flaw in his plan to become the next hard-hitting reporter with steely instincts and bulldog demeanor.
Nat wasn’t sure who to pay attention to. The reporter was getting on his nerves but he couldn’t very well walk up and talk to the representative of Russia if the cameras were rolling. Behind the scenes meant exactly what it described; not in front of the camera. No serious discussion of world-wide importance could possibly take place if someone with the microphone and cameraman in tow were recording his every action. He decided to give the man a little break which might allow him a bigger break.
“Okay, Mr.…?”
“Tidbit, Tim Tidbit with Channel Five News, Mr. Hallowed.”
Nat took a second look at the young reporter and saw determination, blue eyes, brown hair and just the slightest hint of stubble on the man’s face.
“What would like to ask me, Mr. Tidbit?”
“Well, sir, for starters we’d like to know what your relationship is to the various leaders of the world.”
The kid asked some good questions, he’d give him that.
“I am a security counselor.”
“A security counselor?”
“Yes.”
“What’s a security counselor? Please forgive me for my ignorance, I’ve heard of a security consultant before but never a security counselor.”
Nat smiled because he’d made the thing up on the spot. He had no idea what a security counselor was either but decided it would as well as any other and went with it.
“I am an advisor on security related issues. You see, the people you have seen me associate with are merely getting my advice on certain security aspects they are concerned about.”
“What kind of security aspects?”
The waters were getting a little rough so Nat decide to head toward shore.
“I am sorry, but those discussions are confidential. Please understand, I wish I could tell you but I am bound by agreements to keep my council my own.”
The control room was in atwitter because they were at odds with what to do. Should they stay with the young reporter who was on the scene asking questions of a man who was barely answering or return to their tried and true product who was screaming at the top of his lungs to get the cameras back on him so he could fulfill his required amount of airtime? The decision was made for them.
“Whoa! We seem to have some action taking place on the floor of the United Nations” Tim Tidbit said into the camera and everyone watched as it swung to take in the footage.
What became apparent to the viewers was the adults in the room had abandoned their posts. Representatives were rushing the stage in an attempt to get ahead of other representatives doing the same. The reasoning behind the stampede became clear as a man grabbed the microphone from the General Secretary and began shouting.
“We demand the Zionist pigs depart from our homeland! The nation of Palestine wants her lands back!”
The Middle East had decided they’d like a piece of the action.
Nat was watching as every aspect of neutrality fled from those who had attempted to stay on the sideline. He knew once religion entered through the doors she would be reluctant to leave. The chaos on the floor was reaching fever pitch and he was rapidly running out of time. Things could not continue as they were. He needed time. He wasn’t given it.
“Mr. Hallowed?”
He looked again to see the young reporter with microphone in hand and the camera behind.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tidbit, but this does not seem the proper time to…”
“Just one question, sir.”
He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was the eagerness of the reporter which affected him, maybe the irrational happenings on the floor at the time, maybe the subconscious desire to change outcome by altering normal responses but he allowed the man his request.
“What is it?”
“If you were counseling the United Nations what would you tell them?”
He saw the glimmer of hope, the possibility of forestalling events until he could find out if Vampire plans for clan warfare were proceeding according to their wishes. They had proven to be unerringly correct when they devised their schemes but he was having a hard time seeing how they were going to pull this one off. He was going to answer the reporter when something happened which gave him pause. He remembered a foretelling, a prediction of a future event. The detective had said the next time they spoke he might have his answer. His phone rang and Nat rushed to answer it.