Tonya winced at the obvious stupidity. “Are you making this an official order?”
“This is an official and public Council President order,” Polly said.
With Focus Schrum’s backing, Polly didn’t need to say. Not if she used the term ‘public’.
“So be it,” Tonya said. Hancock, again, who already thought Tonya was an irrational enemy. This wouldn’t be easy. These were Arms. Blood would be spilled. People would die.
The worst thing about this was that Tonya had a bad feeling Polly wasn’t done punishing her for her so-called transgressions.
(2)
Tonya awoke to the sound of light rain on her tent and shook her head. The Council was holding its ’68 summer Council session in a rocky excuse for pastureland in the Wisconsin Dells. She didn’t look forward to the secretive Sunday morning session, not after every one of the other Council members had been so painfully polite to her yesterday.
She had never seen the Council so hip-deep in problems. The Arm Flap and its consequences still topped the list, the nastiest being the membership loss of a third of the Network. The Rizzari rebellion and its demands came second, every single demand of Lori’s having at least one Council member favoring it, but none having a majority. The disappearance, perhaps kidnapping, of a baby Chicago Focus, Gloria Frasier by name, and her partly built household of two triads and her attendants made the exceptional list as well. Evidence pointed to Focus Casso, who had vanished just beforehand – but Iris Casso was a below average Focus with no ambitions and no interest in such shenanigans. The letter denouncing Tonya by Arm Hancock, pointedly sent to all the Focuses except the first Focuses and the Council members, also made the list, much to Tonya’s embarrassment. All of those problems dwarfed the usual Council business, already too much for them to handle.
Tonya adjusted her household’s juice first thing in the morning, embarrassed at yesterday’s slipshod juice handling. She had gotten so distracted by the goings on of the Council meeting she had let things slide, enough to get Delia to tap her on the shoulder and remind her she was still a Focus. Embarrassing. Tonya rehearsed her presentation, again, her mind off in never-never-land while she ate whatever food her people put in front of her for breakfast.
Polly greeted her warmly as they trooped into the rented farmhouse. The story behind the farmhouse and land was pure Focus angst – the Focus household who owned the place bought it to be a combination tourist rental property and productive farmland. Unfortunately, the only tourist group interested in the place was an annual field trip by some Midwestern university’s Geology program, and the only thing productive about the hundred and fifty acres of ‘farmland’ was that it could support about ten goats. The land alternated between thin soil over rocks and muddy water meadows. Only a fool or a Focus could see anything usable about the place.
“Your presentation is second up,” Polly told Tonya. Tonya, sat, anxious, while Esther Weiczokowski droned on about some Midwestern Focuses whose household Transforms had come up with the bright idea of unionizing, and about their Focuses, who hadn’t stepped in firmly enough to squash the movement. The Council would need to stop this stupid idea, one way or another.
Tonya stood after Esther finished, and after a nod from Polly, gave her as-predicted unsatisfactory presentation about the Arm Flap. Afterwards, questions.
“How was Stacy Keaton able to free Hancock?”
“Who were the seven people with Stacy Keaton when she freed Hancock?”
“Is it true one of them was a tamed Monster?”
“Why was Hancock still alive to be rescued?”
“How was Hancock allowed to fall into withdrawal?”
“Did you have any personal involvement in freeing Hancock?”
Tonya was able to admit ignorance, duck or sidestep each of the questions, though the weakness of her non-answer to the last one was glaringly obvious. She sat, sweat dripping down her brow, knowing she was in trouble. Those questions had been well prepared, perhaps even rehearsed.
Polly glowered at her when the Council finished grilling her. “I find your answers not fully satisfactory,” she said. “I find I must ask the other members of the Council to vote on the wisdom of your remaining as the Northeast Region representative.”
An impeachment vote was harsher than Tonya expected. She barely caught herself before she blurted out something unwise regarding Polly’s pressure on Tonya to keep her Council seat. She thought for a moment, and nodded. “If that’s your desire, I have no objections.”
The vote was unanimous against removing her from her Council seat, though Polly abstained.
“Okay,” Polly said, the pro forma vote finished. “Let’s move on to the next item on the agenda. Last week, Faith Corrigan decided to take a leave of absence from her position. We need to find a replacement director of the Focus mentoring program.”
“A leave of absence? Why?” Connie Webb said.
Tonya heard the secret smile in Polly’s voice. “She says ‘it’s time the younger generation learns to take on some responsibility. They’ve gotten too reliant on their elders.’ I also think having Focus Frasier vanish out from under her nose in Chicago shook her up more than she’s admitting.”
Esther Weiczokowski, sitting on Tonya’s left, turned to Jill Bentlow and whispered: “It’s about time. She’s been screwing up young Focuses for the last five years.”
Jill nodded, but didn’t respond. Faith Corrigan had been a disaster as head of the mentoring program, but Faith was a first Focus, and so there wasn’t a thing anyone could do about it. However, if she decided to quit on her own…
“Who are you going to get to replace her?” Tonya said, trying to ignore Jill and Esther. Of all the unexpected things, Jill was sporting a noticeable set of muscles on her formerly waiflike five-five frame. Her aura had changed as well, more forceful and more blinkered. Tonya suspected the changes were a byproduct of the typical South Region Focus politics, which often ended in nasty physical confrontations and the use of firearms.
Polly didn’t say anything. She just gave Tonya a cat ate the canary grin.
“Oh, no,” Tonya said, her stomach sinking. “You’re not sucking me into that.” Over the years, the Council had habitually stuck her with all the impossible jobs. After all the nasty jobs she had taken on, she would have thought she had earned her way past something this bad.
“Tonya, don’t be so reluctant. You’ll be good at it,” Polly said. The entire room quieted, and turned to watch either Tonya or Polly. The fix was in. Some nefarious someone, either her own bitch of a boss, Suzie, or her former friend, Wini, had arranged the whole thing. An official exoneration coupled with a time-eating and nearly crippling punishment, giving her the worst job in the entire UFA, a job so onerous Faith Corrigan had been forced off the Council to hold it.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Every young Focus in the country thinks I’m the Wicked Witch of the East. They’re not going to be willing to talk to me. I’m the last person you want mentoring young Focuses.”
“Oh, I’m not kidding at all,” Polly said, her voice gleeful. Tonya had definitely found her way to Polly’s bad side. “Director of the Mentoring Program will be perfect for you. They all think you’re the Wicked Witch of the East because they haven’t seen you in any other role. You’ll be talking to all the Focuses, helping out, letting them get to know you. I bet after a little while you won’t hear any more of the Wicked Witch nonsense. Besides, your reputation will, um, get the attention of the more independent and recalcitrant younger Focuses who might normally ignore reasonable advice.”
“Polly, this is crazy. You need some charming Focus everybody loves, not some crotchety old lady with a bad reputation.”
“What I don’t need is some pushy young bitch from the Young Focus League with lots of enthusiasm and no brains,” Polly said, smile gone off her face, her lacquered red-painted fingernails drumming the table. Tonya wondered if the young leader of the aforementioned non-sanctioned and a
lmost illegal group, Focus Linda Cooley of Chicago, had somehow squeezed up a nomination from one of the first Focuses. Tonya found the whole concept of the YFL, all Focuses born after the early ‘40s and culturally sympathetic to the youth movements of the day, to be tacky and distasteful.
“What I need is you,” Polly said. “Faith has been running the Mentoring Program for years with her cronies, and I’m not pleased with the results. We need to get some new blood involved.”
Tonya shook her head. “Me? New blood? You think any of these Focuses will want to deal with me? After the Arm Flap and Hancock’s letter?” She had a bad feeling Hancock’s letter had sealed the deal, and the firsts really didn’t want anyone to help the new Focuses. Tonya, with her bad reputation, would be perfect for the job of ‘not helping’.
“Tonya, have a little faith in me,” Polly said. “You’ll do a wonderful job.”
Tonya sighed. “Polly, you’re just going to get me in more trouble. I’m already too high profile as it is.”
“Tonya,” Polly said, and she was serious, now, her face rock. “No more arguments. We all need you.” She looked away, meeting the gazes of the rest of the Council members. “As this is an elected position, I need to call for a vote.”
The Council voted unanimously in favor of the move. Tonya abstained. The fix had indeed been in from the start. She was now Director of the Mentoring Program. God save them all.
(3)
The Council meeting had adjourned for an hour, to let the Focuses rest, and in Connie’s case, make a collect call to her household and catch up on business. Tonya found a dark room, put her head in her hands, and tried to recover.
The trouble kept piling higher and higher.
Although Suzie Schrum was still peeved with Tonya because she hadn’t enslaved Hancock and brought the young Arm under her direct control, she still wanted Tonya to be the Region rep. At least that’s what she said. Tonya no longer believed it; the Focuses hadn’t considered the Director of the Mentoring Program to be a Council-level obligation for years. Was Suzie about to force her into semi-retirement while burdened down with a killer job?
Then there was the business of Carol’s letter to the Focuses. Tonya was glad Carol had recovered, as Keaton had told her she would, and was especially glad Carol hadn’t come by to try to kill her. At least so far.
No, to Tonya’s surprise, Carol had gone after her politically. Tonya was going to have to stop thinking of Carol as the same sort of bull-headed blunt instrument as Keaton. Her letter wasn’t a rant, but a finely crafted complaint about Tonya’s behavior in the Arm flap. Among the younger Focuses, it not only reinforced her Wicked Witch of the East image, it made her look like a fool. She wasn’t sure what it made her look like from the first Focuses’ perspective, but whatever views they held on the subject, they couldn’t be pretty. Or printable.
The fallout from the letter made Tonya worry that Rizzari’s bid to unseat her might succeed. Even after her response letter, she felt old, corrupt, and vulnerable. For years, Tonya had made her reputation as the young, forward-looking inventive rationalist Focus on the Council. For too many years. Her shine long gone, and with her refusal to stoop to the blackmail and terror tactics of the ruling First Focuses, she had little to fall back on.
She stood, turned on the room’s light, and got back to business. First up was another follow-up letter from the FBI, attempting to clarify some issues from the Arm Flap. Several of the FBI agents suspected she knew quite a bit more about Hancock’s rescue than she was telling. They had questioned her unmercifully about it, the day after the rescue, one of the more stressful encounters she had ever lied her way through. Only her political pull and the FBI’s embarrassment over the whole mess had kept them from throwing her into prison, indefinitely, as a ‘material witness’. Unsatisfied, they kept pushing, poking and prodding, attempting to get her to slip up.
She finished her response to the FBI, and picked up the next bit of paperwork. This turned out to be Jill Bentlow’s report on the drop-off in the number of Network members. Jill suspected nearly half of their non-Transform contacts were contacts no longer. Her commentary in the report was blunter than usual: “Anyone worth knowing has decided that if the Focuses could turn on a Major Transform Network member in such a horrible manner, they could turn on anyone. We’ve made a grave mistake by allowing our standard practices” the Council’s penchant for treachery and strong-arm tactics against the Focus community “to see the light of day. Until such time as we mend our ways, the Network will not be able to recover.” Analyzing the report, Tonya realized Jill had, somehow, added the Network head, Focus Michelle Claunch, to her supporters. Which also meant Jill’s primary backer, Focus Teas, must be at least tacitly allied with Claunch now. Had Faith Corrigan, another south region first Focus, a long-time ally of Teas and enemy of Claunch, decided to ally with Claunch, or had she been cut out? Her resignation from the Mentoring program hinted at the latter.
No wonder Jill looked readier for a fight than normal. Things down south would be getting ugly…and this did give Tonya a possible lever for ditching the Mentoring program.
Tonya cornered Polly in the back bedroom a half hour later, after deciding what sort of strategy to use.
“This is stupid, Polly,” Tonya said. “I’m the wrong person for the Mentoring program.”
“It will work out. Trust me. And thank you for not causing a stink.” Tonya could have refused the position, but her refusal would have cost her the Council seat and the rest of her already shaky political standing. She still was tempted to resign her Council position.
“Tell me how this isn’t going to cause both of us big problems,” Tonya said. “The Mentoring program has always been a South Region perk. By transferring the program to me, you’re transferring it to the East Region.” Polly’s region as well as Tonya’s. “And inviting retaliation.”
“Well, yes,” Polly said. “So?” The glare from her former friend was hot enough to ignite the bedroom’s partly peeling wallpaper.
“The new alliance between Claunch, Teas and Bentlow is going to give them enough juice to work in our backyard. With their bloody-handed tactics.” Such as kidnapping household Transforms, and threatening to let them go Psycho or Monster unless their Focus caved.
“So, you’ve been doing your homework,” Polly said. Implying ‘for once’, and confirming Tonya’s suppositions. “Their alliance isn’t quite what you think, and although neither of us can say anything in public about it, it favors us.”
“I find this hard to believe.”
“Remember your history. The Council nearly decided to dissolve the South Region after the Julius rebellion because so many of the South Region leading Focuses refused to help the Council reign in Julius and DeYoung.” Julius and DeYoung were, or had been, South Region Focuses. “They’re not going to be making that mistake again.”
“They’re going after Lori?”
“Yes, and feel free to point this out to Lori. She’s being an idiot, or, at least, more of an idiot than is normal for her.”
“This does put a different spin on things,” Tonya said, both appalled and gladdened. The last thing she wanted was help from her political enemies, or at least Suzie Schrum’s political enemies. On the other hand, their help would allow her to put more work into her other responsibilities, such as reigning in Hancock. And the damned Mentoring program.
Tonya sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “All right. But I don’t understand why I’m necessary for this.”
“God knows what kind of bugs are going to crawl out when you start lifting up rocks,” Polly said. “I need someone who can go in and straighten things out and clean up the mess. I’ve seen enough problems generated by young Focuses in the past three or four months to realize that a change needs to be made. We need someone running the mentoring program who can recognize a problem with she sees it, figure out what needs to be done, and take action. You’re one of the few people I’d trust to handle it, and y
ou’ve got enough charisma to influence many a young Focus over the telephone. Furthermore, you’re fresh off a move, so you aren’t having juice troubles, and you’re in as good a shape to handle this as is ever likely to occur. I also think this will put you on better terms with the younger Focuses.” That is, give Tonya a chance to build a new power base.
“All right, all right,” Tonya said, and gave in.
“Thank you so much. Look, there’s a couple of things you’ll need to do right off. First, contact Faith Corrigan and ask her advice. You don’t have to take any of it, just listen, sound appreciative, and tell her all about how you know you won’t do as good a job as she did, but you’ll do your best.”
“You’re kidding,” Tonya said.
“No. Look, it’s nothing major. Just call her up and make her feel appreciated. If you do that, you won’t have Faith and her cronies giving you grief every time you change something. Be polite, be appreciative, and flatter her. It’ll work wonders, and make your job ten times easier,” Polly said.
“I’m not sure my stomach is that strong,” Tonya said.
“Your stomach is made out of cast iron. The next thing you need to do is make some phone calls. Call every Focus who’s transformed in the last five years and check on her. Update the files and find the problems. I’ll make sure Faith sends you the files.”
“Polly, that’s got to be a hundred Focuses!”
“One hundred and thirty-three.”
Tonya winced. She knew it was going to be bad, but… “You know how much money that’s going to be in phone bills? I can’t afford all that.”
“You’ll find the resources to cover it,” Polly said. “Consider it incentive to be more forthcoming with the Council.” Tonya translated this as ‘the price you’re going to have to pay to keep any political power at all’. “The phone bills will hurt, but it’s important that we make those calls. You watch. I’ll bet you money you’re going to find at least three young Focuses who are fundamentally screwed up in some way that should never, ever have happened.” She paused, a tiny frown on her face. “Also, don’t forget we’ll all be watching to see how you’re doing.”
The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Eight Page 4