by S A Shaffer
As the speaker called for the next motion, David’s eyes grew wider when an idea struck him. He leaned close to Blythe and didn’t bother hiding the surly tone in his voice when he whispered, “Isn’t a massive aerosol polymer company incorporated in Speaker Walker’s district? If I’m correct, they held a fundraiser for him in the recent past.”
A faint smirk appeared on Blythe’s face as he nodded slowly. “You are on the right track.”
“Mr. Speaker,” said House Stockton Representative Delano. “House Stockton is unanimous in its decision to grant psychologists the power to prescribe antipsychotics to minors without parental consent. A certain sect of individuals has refused to allow their children to partake in vital antipsychotics despite the insistence of qualified physicians. House Stockton feels that such ignorance …”
As Representative Delano droned on, David whispered, “How many of the mass employers reside in the speaker’s district? If my memory is correct, five of the ten largest companies in Alönia dwell in the Sixth.”
“Very good,” Blythe said. “Five is correct, but you haven’t told me how that has made him speaker?”
David pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “Well … his district has the lowest taxes of all the districts in all the houses of Alönia. This tempts greedy business owners to relocate to his district, bringing with them a vast amount of jobs. And where the jobs go, the people follow with little choice in the matter. This would swell his population and give him a windfall in the census.”
“I think I picked the right aide.” Blythe gave a reassuring nod. “However, elections happen every three cycles and the general public would have an opportunity to voice their opinion through their vote. How has the speaker managed to maintain the popular vote in his district for over a decade? If a majority of the population in the most populous district approves of his representation, perhaps he deserves to be speaker? What do you say to that?”
David furrowed his brow, unable to come up with a viable solution off the top of his head.
“But … But, Mr. Speaker!” Delano almost shouted. “Recent studies show that the latest antipsychotics may improve focus and decrease impulsivity and hyperactive behavior in minors. These results are crucial to the development—”
“Representative Delano,” Walker cut in, “your motion is denied.”
David continued thinking while the rest of the Assembly grumbled its disapproval.
“So …” David whispered, leaning closer to Blythe, “if that were true, why are 85 percent of all the other district representatives in Alönia Equalists?” he asked, thinking aloud. “If I’m correct, the businesses in the speaker’s district are given an additional tax credit for providing private education to their workers. These private schools are well known for their Pragmatic approach to politics and economics.” David could hear himself talking faster now as the answer unraveled itself in his mind. “Speaker Walker brings companies into his district, and then uses district funds, donated by the same companies, to fund his very own indoctrination program.”
As the rest of the representatives booed the speaker’s veto on yet a third motion, Blythe slow-clapped and smiled at David. “You are a natural at politics, my boy,” he said. “I have a prodigy protégé.”
David smiled and blushed at the compliments but frowned inwardly. Natural had nothing to do with it. If Blythe only knew how many hours he had spent in study the past four cycles to prepare for this day.
Speaker Walker denied three more motions, including one to cut government spending for the manufacturing of new warships—warships that just so happened to be crafted by a company residing in the speaker’s district.
“I find it unwise to constrict our military funding any further given the threat of Outlanders,” the speaker said.
Of course, there hadn’t been any Outlander activity in five cycles.
As the Assembly wound down and the representatives shuffled in eager anticipation, Speaker Walker made one more announcement, surprising everyone: “Before we conclude today, I wish to raise my own motion.”
The entire auditorium hushed, as this was the first motion the speaker had made in several cycles.
“I have been in conference with Don Hezekiah Johnson, manager of Alönian Public Pharmaceuticals. As Public Pharmaceuticals has grown substantially with the rise of psychological diagnoses in the general public, they have decided to build a new facility and move their headquarters to the Sixth District of Braxton. As this motion requires speaker approval before an Assembly, I hereby approve the relocation and the acquisition of land from the Sixth District.”
The auditorium gasped like a rush of wind as every participating member sucked in a breath. Then, like a roar of thunder after the silent flash of lightning, representatives jumped to their feet and shouted their outrage.
David knew what this meant, and he swallowed hard as he looked over at his new boss, wondering how Blythe would react to the surprise motion.
THE BURDENED LOCAL POPULOUS
David looked on and Blythe said nothing while the rest of the representatives raged in the Assembly Room. Blythe simply steepled his fingers and tapped his lips. After several minutes he rose and walked out of the box. David had to scramble just to keep up with him. Blythe remained silent—hands folded behind his back the entire way back to their offices.
“With me, David,” Blythe said as he entered his private office.
They walked into the unsettling, window-floored room and took their respective seats.
Blythe rested his hands on the bridge of his nose for a few moments before he took a deep breath and spoke. “You’re having an interesting first day. I’m assuming you know that Speaker Walker rarely makes motions, and never without particular purpose. You know the ramifications of this one?”
“Yes, sir. Public Pharmaceuticals is the largest organization in Alönia. Larger than the top three Alönian companies put together. This would cement Representative Walker’s speakership indefinitely.”
Blythe nodded. “Indefinitely is correct. However, there can never be difficulty without opportunity. Can you guess what that opportunity might be?”
David looked at Blythe for a few seconds until it hit him. His eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Public Pharmaceuticals is moving. You mean to bring them here—I mean, to the Third District.”
Blythe nodded slowly.
“But how?”
“That’s why I hired you, my boy. We have a problem. We need a solution. I know it is your first day, but are you up for a little challenge?”
“Yes, sir,” David said, unable to keep himself from smiling.
“Good lad. Now we need to find a way to tempt Don Johnson into changing his mind about the Sixth District. I was thinking—”
“Um,” David interrupted. “Begging your pardon, sir, but that might not be necessary.”
“Oh?” Blythe said with nearly concealed condescension. “Why is that?”
David swallowed, then began, “Well, sir, Public Pharmaceuticals is just that—public. They are a hybrid organization that is just as much a government entity as a private corporation. Even if you could convince Don Johnson to move the proposed site to the Third District, Speaker Walker would probably still hold veto power over the transfer.”
Blythe’s countenance darkened a little as he got to his feet and walked over his window away from his desk a bit. “So you are telling me that the site is permanent and there is nothing we can do about it?” He shook his head. “We need a solution, David. This will effectively make George Walker a monarch.”
“Yes, sir,” David said, “But … there may be another option. There is nothing we can do, but there is something the entire Assembly could do.”
Blythe turned and looked at David, lips pursed and brow furrowed. “Go on.”
“Well, granted, this is a particularly old section of House Rules. But the Assembly can assert authority over a project in which it has an interest if there is a f
inancially more tenable option available, there is a strong public interest in Assembly interference, and the current project situation is a burden to the local populous. True, the speaker would still have veto authority on the transfer, but in this particular situation a simple majority vote of the Assembly would overrule his veto.”
Blythe paced across the window-floor a few times before returning to his chair. “Show me the law.”
David scrambled out to his desk and retrieved a worn book, House Law, from his tattered satchel. Once back, he turned to the appropriate page and showed Blythe to which section of House Rules he was referring.
After reading it over, Blythe gave a heavy sigh. “This rule hasn’t been used in over a century,” he said. “Are you sure it is still a good ruling?”
David gave a firm nod. “It has never been challenged or overruled.”
Blythe nodded in return as he looked over the rule again, rubbing his jaw. “Yes … this might work. It just might work. Could be difficult convincing the other houses to vote with us, though.”
“Why? Would the other houses prefer that Speaker Walker veto their motions indefinitely?”
Blythe laughed. “Never use a sledgehammer when a scalpel is all that’s necessary. There’s another reason Walker is still speaker. It isn’t that all the other representatives wouldn’t love to see him go; it’s that they all want to be the one who fills his shoes.”
“Well, they needn’t worry about that. Even if we acquire Public Pharmaceuticals, we would still be a far cry from unseating Speaker Walker.” David chuckled … until he noticed that Blythe was not laughing with him. “Wouldn’t we?”
“David, I assume you remember the portion in your contract that designates everything said in this office as confidential,” Blythe said, his tone still pleasant but his eyes firm. “I don’t need to remind you of the consequences of violating that confidentiality.”
David swallowed again. “Absolutely not, sir.”
“Good. Because I’m about to tell you something that only a handful of people know. For the past three censuses I’ve concealed certain portions of our house population.”
David felt his mouth fall open as a thousand questions filled his mind: How does one hide population? … Is it illegal to mislead a census? … Sure, it’s illegal to inflate your house numbers, but has anyone ever deflated their numbers? … Why would they want to?
When David said nothing, Blythe went on, “I noticed as a first-term politician that after every census, neighboring representatives pilfered population from any district that was experiencing growth. So for the past nine cycles or so, I’ve limited our population growth in each census, despite the popularity of my social assistance programs. The truth is, if we acquire Public Pharmaceuticals, our population will become a very close second to the Sixth District.”
“How close?”
“Very close. By my estimates, between 1 and 2 percent difference. The question is, if we reveal our hand at the up-and-coming census in four months, what will we gain? Walker will still be speaker, and even if I maintain my charade, the wolves will come to call. How long will it be before they realize our true population?”
David thought for a moment, then asked, “Do we have any alternative?”
“No, we do not,” Blythe said as he clasped his hands behind his back. “This just means we have until the census to acquire both Public Pharmaceuticals and an additional 2 percent of population. The time to strike is now. We will never get another opportunity like this. But we must proceed very carefully, because if our actions are discovered before we make the motion next week, another district could make the same proposal and ruin our prospects. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. In the meantime I would like you to think of why the Sixth District site is counter to the public interest and why our district isn’t. I will handle the ‘financially more tenable’ element of the rule. I know of a particular piece of property that should do the trick.”
“Very good, sir. Will that be all for now?”
“Yes, I think so. You can go and get settled in. It’s going to be a busy first week for you.”
David smiled and then nodded as he got up. He tried to tiptoe inconspicuously across the window … floor … thing, giving a little wave to Paula as he exited Blythe’s office. She winked at him and continued filing her light-pink nails.
After sitting down at his desk, he noticed that his left arm was growing sluggish. He glanced over at Paula, who was still busy at her nails, before rolling up his sleeve and swapping out a finger-sized power-pack with a fresh one from his satchel. The silvery digits of his hand twitched with the fresh power, and he spun the wrist a few revolutions before pulling his sodden sleeve down over the awkward metallic appendage. It dangled a little lower than his natural arm because it weighed more, forcing him to hunch. He might have been above average height if the clumsy thing didn’t pull him forward, but it was still better than no arm at all. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t also have a limp. The combined hunch and limp gave him a damaged appearance.
After shoving the spent power-pack into his satchel, David pulled open one of his desk drawers to start figuring out what he’d need. He blinked upon finding that it was already filled with supplies. He looked up in surprise at Paula.
“I took the liberty of stocking your desk while you were out,” she said, smiling as she blew dust from a nail. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you, Ms. Paul—um, thank you, Paula.” It was a simple act, but probably the first nice thing anyone had done for him since … well, since a long time.
Paula smiled and went back to her nails.
David rested his copy of House Law on his desk and stared at the title. They had until next census, the twenty-first day of Prumuveour Season. He puffed out his cheeks and counted off the days in his mind—117. That was not a lot of time to install a massive facility and scrounge up an additional few percent of population, and it would come at a price. Partnering their district with a don could be dangerous.
The thought made David cringe, and he considered the ruthless history of the dons. Centuries earlier the Houses of Alönia were still made up of family houses with tentative alliances. The original thirteen family lines held all the power in the land—almost. A number of merchant families, while without lands, gained vast amounts of wealth through monopolies over different products. In time they granted themselves titles and became the “Dons of Alönia.” Over the centuries their power grew to rival that of the Alönian houses. Now the old family houses existed in name only, but three dons still stood.
Don Hezekiah Johnson managed all pharmaceutical production and distribution across the entire Houselands. His management, so to speak, was more of a cover, as all profits from the government-funded entity flowed directly into his pocket.
Next, Don Rafael Hephnaire owned several resorts, though his true source of power came from his stronghold over the Alönian labor unions.
Finally, Don Alphonse Gabriel remained the most elusive of the bunch. Nobody really knew how he collected his exorbitant amount of wealth, though a majority of the Alönian dance clubs sent him massive distributions every cycle. David had also heard the rumors that Gabriel ran a blackmail organization through the dance clubs, as well as an illegal drug distribution system, though no one had ever proved it.
David sighed. Yes, working with a don could be dangerous, but as Blythe said, they really didn’t have a choice. David opened up his House Law book and started reading, searching for a modern answer to an ancient bit of law. A few hours later he was knee-deep in magistrate decisions, Assembly rules, and governmental projects, pulling from his own books and some of the extensive resources in the file room. He paused his pensive thoughts when Blythe exited his office and walked over to David’s desk. Paula jumped up and retrieved Blythe’s coat from the rack.
“Any luck?” Blythe asked.
“Some, sir. Still looking,” David said.
“Tell me what you got,” Blythe said as Paula helped him into his coat.
“Well … I have identified many public interests that would qualify under the rule, but the issue is that each one is just as strong in the Sixth District as it is in the Third. For instance the Assembly can interfere in the interests of providing jobs to an underemployed populous. But the Sixth District can show a need for jobs just as easily as we can and our greater need is irrelevant.” David let out a frustrated sigh.
“Keep at it. I’m heading to the Third to see about a piece of land, and I’m taking Paula with me.”
“Oh, wonderful, I’m so glad I finished my nails,” Paula said. “Now I can go and get them dirty at some construction site.”
“It’s not so much that I need you, Paula; it’s that I don’t want you not there.” He winked at David. “I find that my negotiations are far more effective when Paula accompanies me. We will see you tomorrow, then,” Blythe said. “Oh, and take this.” He flipped David a silver coin. “Buy yourself some dinner on the way home. Call it a first-day bonus.”
“Thank you, sir!” David said after he’d caught the coin from the air and realized it was a full sterling.
He watched as Blythe walked with Paula on his arm over to the wall behind David’s desk. He was about to said something, but the odd sight of the two of them just standing in front of the wall robed the words from his mouth. Paula held her hat tight against her head. Then, Blythe reached out and pulled a lever that David hadn’t noticed before. Chilled wind burst through an opening, blowing all the papers off David’s desk as the wall opened into a tiny garage docking a sleek, two-seater skiff—and not just any skiff: a Cloud Cutter 71. Skiffs were named after their seafaring counterparts, a holdover from the far past. From where David sat, he could see the little airship’s sleek pontoons cradling the wooden hull and the single, internal turbofan, a thing of beauty and craftsmanship as much as functionality and sport. He gaped as Blythe and Paula climbed in and buckled themselves.