Room 1515

by Bill Wetterman

  Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania was her choice and a good one. She could close her eyes and picture herself jogging from the Academic Center North to the Widener Hotel dozens of times a week. Then a posting on the career board listing her major under government jobs caught her eye, and eventually landed her in New York and ultimately working for Ursa in Washington.

  For one moment, Peacock was Donna O’Connor again. She turned down Cascade Drive to the house she was born and raised in, a three bedroom two-story, with a garage that wouldn’t hold a car. Her father, a local minister, complained the yard was too big to mow and the house too small for the family. He was right.

  She parked out front and sat for a short time. There was nothing here for her. No fond memories. A gray fog existed where her past before the accident lived in her mind. The first sixteen years of her life seemed unreal and void of meaning. She needed to see for herself that the sights and sounds here didn’t impact her. Her pain was for her brother mostly. Her hatred was toward God and toward her father who had so staunchly defended God before the accident.

  Scowling, she restarted the engine and drove away. Ursa was right. This part of her life was a wasteland. Still she had one more place to go.

  Chapter 29

  As Arthur Pendleton marched into the meeting room with his advisors, Chinese and English translators raced into position. Reporters from foreign outlets had been banded from the entire Central Beijing area. The meeting wasn’t held in the usual politically correct locations, but in the Communist Party Headquarters itself. Financial necessity had won the battle over the Chinese leadership’s total disdain for Arthur Pendleton.

  Pendleton refused the traditional formalities. He knew who the man in power was, Li Ziyang, the General Secretary of the Communist Party, and he spoke directly to him. “I understand your reluctance to meet with us and with me specifically. I’ve maneuvered your government into a financial bind. I’ve supported the Japanese to your displeasure.”

  “I’m very close to President Charles Monroe,” Ziyang replied. “I hope those responsible for the attempt on his life all receive punishment in due time.”

  Ziyang’s words scratched Pendleton, and his narrow grey eyebrows sent daggers flying at his enemy. He straightened his shoulders and sat tall, looking across the table at Pendleton as he would a thief. Pendleton kept his anger hidden.

  “I believe in justice General Secretary,” Pendleton said. “I believe in worldwide cooperation and a good quality of life for everyone. To that end I’m here to offer you an olive branch.”

  His translator spoke to another man for a moment, and Pendleton assumed the term olive branch needed some clarification. Rumors said Ziyang could be ruthless himself. Even having entertained the idea of reestablishing the title, Chairman, for his position, a title retired after Mao died.

  “Japan’s decision to adopt the Euro as its main currency opens up an opportunity for China.” Pendleton said, keeping his focus on Ziyang. “If we assist in bolstering the Renminbi (Yuan) by lifting the peg that links it to the sinking U.S. Dollar, your currency jumps to number one in the Pacific rim.”

  “If you do this, what do you expect from us in return?”

  “I expect nothing initially and your neutrality long term.”

  Ziyang nodded in the direction of Premier Xiang Liang Yu. “Let us recess for an hour.”

  “Fine,” Pendleton said. “Your people will verify the adverse effect this will have on the Rupee, Rupiah, and the Won.”

  “One question,” President Ming said. “Why the change of heart?”

  “May I quote Sun Tzu?”

  “Yes, but do not misquote him.” Ming smiled.

  “There is no instance of a nation benefitting from prolonged warfare.”

  The Chinese stood and the Europeans followed their movements.

  “One hour,” Ziyang repeated.

  #

  Donna O’Connor couldn’t get out of her car. Nothing fazed her as Peacock or Laverna. But the real girl inside scared the hell out of her. She wasn’t Peacock, or Laverna, or Donna anymore. She wasn’t anyone she knew. She reacted to the role she was in, but outside of a role, she didn’t exist. Pendleton would arrive in less than a week, and she would have to tell him about the baby. Would he approve? No one in her life could give her unbiased advice. So for the first time since their funeral, she stared out her driver’s side window at her family’s graves.

  Finally, she forced herself out the car door. She tugged her skirt down ladylike so her knees were covered. She looked up at the rugged hills outside Eggleston, Virginia, the hills that took her parents’ lives, and forced her feet forward toward the gravesites.

  Snowflakes wisped past her. Some touched her face, melting, and mingling with her tears. Her childhood was only a shadow in her memory. She couldn’t visualize the faces of her loved ones. But there she stood at the base of her father’s grave. Her mother and brother lay next to him, one on each side. Words clogged in her throat. Only a choking sound came out.

  She supposed the dead didn’t need to hear her voice.

  I’m mortally wounded, Dad. My mind and emotions are dying. Even my feelings for Arthur can’t be described as love—only a boost to my ego. One day, I’m afraid I’ll be just a whore and a cold-blooded murderer.

  She licked melting snow off her lips and sighed.

  I’m pregnant. I want the child, but I’m afraid to grow fond of it. Everyone I love dies. That’s why I know I don’t love Arthur. He’s very much alive.

  She fisted her hands.

  If God is real, why did He allow you to die the way you did? Answer me that.

  Her train of thought was interrupted by another car pulling up behind hers. She recognized the vehicle as Ursa’s. Even in a private moment, things weren’t private. He was up the incline and at her side quicker than she expected for someone his age.

  “A strange place to find you,” he said.

  “We’re what, a three hour drive from your office.” She turned and stepped toward him. “You shouldn’t be trying to find me.”

  “This part of your life is best left alone.”

  “Damn it. I needed some answers.” But she’d asked her question and silence was the response. She slumped. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Ursa put his arm around her. They stood motionless at her family’s gravesite. Her mind sorted the facts back into neat piles—duty, loyalty, to both Ursa and to Pendleton, and to her conscience. Her duty stayed steadfast. She would defend the country her parents loved to her death. Her loyalty to Ursa and to Pendleton had tightrope-like consequences. She’d been able to juggle both, but the time would come when she’d receive an order that would force her to choose between them. Whom she’d choose varied day-by-day.

  As to conscience, she had none in the true sense of the word. Mercy, yes, the kind she’d shown Daphne. She did have that practical moral upbringing after all. She could quote the Scripture about serving two masters, loving one and hating the other. As of this moment, she loved neither. But the concept rang true. Serving one of them would eventually become her downfall.

  “You’re right, Boss,” she said. “I need to look forward, not back.”

  “The team needs you.” Ursa took her hands and kissed her cheek. “I need you.”

  #

  Ziyang mulled the conversation he’d had with his leadership over in his mind. Pendleton came with a gift of short-term benefit, but a badly needed gift. Within a few years, the world would be forced to unite under Pendleton’s thumb. Except, Ziyang and the Chinese government would never bend the knee to him. To avoid the necessity, Ziyang had already begun planning for sacrifices, plans to be as self-sufficient as possible. If he couldn’t achieve that goal, the world would be plunged into total war.

  He nodded to the doorman, and he and his team reentered the meeting room.

  “Let’s be blunt,” Ziyang said. “We accept your offer with the stipulation that the movement in the financial market d
oes not look contrived.”

  “Agreed,” Pendleton said. “I learned how to do that from you.”

  “And you . . . what do you get?”

  “I weaken my most vulnerable enemy, the Muslim world, and make peace with you, one less vulnerable.”

  “You mentioned the Won. But we see that currency affected the least.”

  “You are, as always, correct. Iran, Iraq, India, Pakistan, and Indonesia will be the real losers here. Korea is still pegged to the United States.”

  “The figures quoted by you last year that over 100 million Muslims reside in China is incorrect, Mr. Pendleton.” Ziyang smiled. “Our far western provinces have expelled over ten million, and another fourteen million no longer practice this faith. But what is that number in a population of over 1.5 billion.”

  “To quote an old Chinese proverb, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’”

  “Interesting, the Arabs claim they said that first. Of course they’re wrong.”

  Ziyang frowned. “You walk a very dangerous road, Mr. Pendleton. I am not blind. You view world religions as the enemies of an enlightened civilization. I view them as the enemies of the State.”

  #

  Ziyang’s comment opened Pendleton’s eyes to Ziyang’s soul. The man walked a tightrope hoping to remain the United States firm trading partner, while cracking down on the growing religious swell enveloping his nation. True, Pendleton’s offer struck at the heart of bankrupting the Muslim world. Ziyang perceived that.

  “There is a difference between religions and God. I do not follow the rules of religion. I attend a church, and I’m a believer in Christ. I believe I am on God’s side.”

  “All deceived men do.” Li Ziyang stood, as did the others. “Let our administrators work out the details.”

  The official meeting ended. Nothing appeared in the headlines of major news networks. Foreign diplomats weren’t aware the meeting ever occurred. Pendleton knew he hadn’t made a friend in Ziyang. But Milton Rogers noted that Ziyang nodded in agreement with his advisors that this deal with the W.F.C. was fair.

  Yes, the deal was fair for today. A few years from now, it would be decidedly unfair to the Chinese.

  #

  Having finished his negotiations in China, Pendleton headed to Switzerland. Twelve members of his brain trust, Project Enlightenment, were gathering in Zurich for one week to discuss the structure of the future government. The Global Realm would be divided into twelve provinces, operating under the same laws, the same educational systems, and the same justice system. Each of these twelve members would hold an important position in a province.

  A present day capital city like London or Beijing wouldn’t do for the capital of a one-world government. There couldn’t be favoritism of one nation over another. Since Switzerland had long been a neutral country, Pendleton chose Zurich. Zurich was arguably the present day world’s financial capital anyway. Nestled in the beauty of the Alps, he would build the center of his government here.

  This brain trust of twelve did not include presidents, kings, or the like. Pendleton picked research scientists, transportation experts, education experts, computer geniuses, behavioral psychologists, and criminal justice specialists—two each.

  He checked into the Widder Hotel, selecting a penthouse suite for this meeting. Within an hour of his arrival, his team of twelve began their deliberations. The discussion was on Pendleton’s least favorite subject. How to eliminate crime under enlightened leadership.

  “The theory is quite simple,” Blake Carter, former head of the United States Department of Justice said, “Crimes like auto theft, muggings, and larceny should become non-existent when money is abolished. Every working person and their family will be provided a home, food, and the required numbers of cars free. Our major problems will be disbanding street gangs, stopping drug trafficking, and curbing violent crimes – rape, murder, and the like.”

  Pendleton said nothing. A member who identifies problems must also offer solutions. The team understood this concept.

  “First, we must convert the population away from a money-based economy. Second, we meet basic needs by distributing housing, meals, etcetera, matching each individual’s contribution to society based on the Lorton formula.” Carter glanced around looking for raised hands. There were none. “Then we take the first step in maintaining domestic control. As we provide the basics free, we confiscate all weapons, family-by-family. In order to have your residence, balanced meals, free healthcare, and necessary utilities, all weapons must be turned in.”

  “This will be particularly difficult in tribal areas and underdeveloped nations,” Milton Rogers said as he sat to Pendleton’s left taking notes. “They’ve lived lawlessly for centuries. I’m afraid we’ll have to subdue many by force.”

  Pendleton nodded. “We expect resistance. Sad, but it’s necessary that we subjugate those who fight us.”

  Some would object and pay the consequences. But in the end, the world security forces would have the weapons. People could still hunt on approved land. Weapons and munitions could be leased and returned. But a weaponless society equaled fewer murders.

  “Go on.”

  “Once we’ve subdued rebellious populations, individuals breaking the law will be confined humanely, brought to a speedy trial, and if convicted, serve the mandatory sentence for their crime—no legal challenges allowed.”

  Carter pointed to his partner on the criminal justice team, the former head of Kuwait’s Ministry of Justice, Farouk Abdullah. “I’ll give the topic of vice control and punishment to Abdullah.”

  Pendleton selected Abdullah because Kuwait was a constitutional monarchy. Pendleton wouldn’t be a monarch, an enlightened dictator more likely. Abdullah rose and bowed. Clothed Western-style and clean-shaven, he could have passed for an American with a suntan. “Global law must be applied globally. Where issues of morality are concerned, the State has no business in imposing moral code. The State does however have a right to pass laws governing the health and safety of world citizens.”

  “Here we go,” Pendleton sighed, “preventing alcoholism by confiscating alcohol.”

  “In a sense, yes. Our purpose is to allow freedom of choice within the law. Therefore whether an individual chooses to engage in fornication, use of drugs and alcohol, or indulges in some other morally questionable pastime, he or she will be free to do so with limitations.”

  Pendleton groaned. “I hate being the morality police.”

  “You want an enlightened society,” Milton Rogers muttered, “You have to create conditions conducive to one.”

  Abdullah nodded. “We can’t dictate how people spend their leisure time. We can limit and control their activities.”

  Pendleton raised his hand. “After reading this section of your report, I have some questions. These, how shall I put it, party times are to be scheduled in advance. Is this correct?”

  “Yes,” Abdullah said. “If an individual is interested in spending a weekend indulging in drinking and other related vices, he or she must go online to secure a reservation at an Entertainment Center in advance and agree to pass a sobriety test before leaving that Center. Sleep over arrangements will be provided.”

  “Good. That eliminates drunk driving,” Pendleton said. “If a person wishes to engage in fornication, how would the person procure a partner?”

  “Again online if he doesn’t already have a willing partner. He or she selects a Center professional employee who has passed the WED-Core 1134 examinations. We used to call them prostitutes.”

  Pendleton chuckled. “My God, we have examinations for everything.”

  “Precisely,” echoed one of the education team members. “You’d be surprised how many individuals will opt for a profession in these arts.”

  “Well, if we can’t mandate morality, we can at least minimize the collateral damage.”

  Abdullah covered his smile with his hand. “Speaking of reducing the consequences of sin, if alcohol and marijuana are fre
e and controlled, drug trafficking disappears. If medical testing is required for our participating citizens, particularly those requesting or employed in these facilities, AIDS and other STDs will be vastly reduced as well.”

  “All other drugs are banned. Correct.”

  “Correct.”

  “An economy not based on money eliminates many sins,” Pendleton said. “Gambling collapses. The pornography industry ceases to exist.”

  “Now, now, old boy,” Milton Rogers said with a chuckle. “The human race will create new vices as old ones disappear. Sin’s in our nature.”

  Pendleton chose not to dwell on that comment. “Tell me about the penalties for violating the laws.”

  “We’ll have four levels of world laws. We’ll have two guilty rulings, guilty with command of faculties and guilty by reason of mental impairment or disease.” Abdullah sipped some water and then continued. “The purpose of correctional facilities will be individual rehabilitation and/or removing a threat to the society-at-large.”

  “There is a nine page list of offenses falling in the lowest category,” Pendleton said, “yet only one punishment?”

  “One form of punishment at each level simplifies things administratively.”

  “List a few crimes in the lowest category and the punishment.”

  “A few would be failure to comply with the educational betterment requirements, theft from product distribution centers, and failure to hold a job. The sentence, if found guilty, would be one year at hard labor, generally working on conservation and beautification projects.”

  Pendleton reviewed the next block of crimes. “Yes, I see severe spousal abuse, assault and battery, distributing, obtaining, and the illegal use of drugs and alcohol, as far more serious than the first group.”

  “Agreed. There are only three pages of offenses in this second group. The sentence is a mandatory ten years in a correctional facility or mental institution. At this level, the inmates are separated from one another except for meals, visitations, and group counseling sessions. Educational advancement tools are available to help prepare them for re-entry into society.”