by Simon Archer
I slumped back into my chair and grimaced. “I guess you’re right. It just bothers me is all.”
“I’ll keep working on it, boss,” Malthe said kindly. “I’ll track the guy down eventually, even if he did drop dead. He can’t hide from us forever.”
“Thanks, man,” I said gratefully, “but for now, let’s celebrate.”
I raised my half-empty champagne glass again in a toast. “To new beginnings, and to the new session of Parliament tomorrow.”
Several of our glasses clinked together as the others joined me in my toast.
Lin grinned. “I still can’t believe we pulled a whole new legislature together so quickly. Usually, this shit takes years, even when there’s not much turnover… and we threw over half the Parliament into the Void!”
“It’s just what we do,” I grinned, finishing off my champagne in one big gulp. “And after tomorrow, the foxgirls will never have to worry again. It won’t just be about enforcing existing laws anymore. Everyone’s rights when it comes to the spirit world will be written right into the Constitution. There’s no going back after that.”
“Amen,” Cindra said, finishing off her own champagne.
“We really are grateful to you, Nic,” Kira smiled warmly at me, “and to all of you who’ve helped us.” She looked at each new board member in turn in thanks.
“It’s just the right thing to do,” I said, squeezing her hand.
2
The next morning, I came to my office early to watch the proceedings in Parliament. This would be a historic day in Termina.
I’d taken over Elias’s old office, which was my dad’s before him, after I became CEO. I’d had the place completely redone. Gone were the black walls and carpet and strange slippery furniture. The walls were now blue to match the sky outside. Well, ideally, to match the sky outside. Termina had some dreary weather and was usually pretty gray when all was said and done. Still, it had some nice days, and they seemed to be more frequent as of late, probably because we’d slashed production on the factories on the south side, then restored business once we invested in better and more efficient energy and anti-pollution technology.
Instead of the leather furniture, I now had comfy, welcoming blue couches and loveseats scattered throughout the office at a comfortable height. That way, my guests wouldn’t feel intimidated or lesser than me like I had when I spoke with Elias. I’d also had the carpets ripped out and replaced with dark brown hardwood floors. Then I moved my dad’s old desk in there and threw Elias’s in the dumpster.
That had been a particularly cathartic moment.
When I came in, I looked out the window at the wispy clouds and blue-tinted sky for a moment, then pressed a button on my desk that pulled up a holovision. A broad holographic see-through image of the Parliament appeared across the back wall of my office. Little people walked back and forth across the screen, preparing for the meeting.
My new board and I had hand-picked pretty much everyone in the new Parliament. The one thing we hadn’t been able to do was to get any foxgirls elected, even on the south side. It was too soon for that. No one wanted to vote for someone they thought was a deranged savage just a few short weeks ago. Still, we managed to get together a pretty decent group of people who we thought would do well in the position.
Mostly, we’d grabbed people who had been sympathetic to my father or to Mat Sung before everything changed at TelCorp and put them in positions of power. Well, better to say that we put them on the ballot and ran their campaigns for them. Barring that, we found people who seemed sympathetic to our views and put them before the people after a rigorous screening process.
Then, when it came down to it, the people of Termina seemed to like what we were selling. Pretty much all the candidates we put forward and backed were elected. So, all in all, I was pretty confident this first session would go according to plan. I leaned back in my chair, propped my feet up on my desk, and sipped on some coffee as I watched the proceedings unfold.
“Order, order,” the Prime Minister, Lucianus Halit, called once everyone was in their seats. Halit was an old ally of Sung’s. He’d been young at the time, so he was only around his mid-fifties now. It’d been easy getting him elected Prime Minister since he had the experience.
The Parliament itself was a clustered half-dome of tables and chairs stacked on top of each other in ascending rows, kind of like a choir. The tables and chairs were shiny gray steel that glistened even through the holographic images.
At the center of it all, facing the rest of the Parliament, was Halit. He had short white hair, prematurely aged, but otherwise was young and fit. I’d even seen him referred to as a “silver fox” by some of the female journalists on the news. He had few wrinkles, just a little crinkle around each of his light blue eyes. He always struck me as a nice, kind gentleman who wanted what was best for Termina and its people of all sorts.
Slowly, the rest of the Parliament settled down and turned their attention to Halit.
“Welcome,” he said matter-of-factly. “This will be the first session of the twelve-hundred and sixty-third Parliament of the City of Termina. Thank you for joining us. Today we will be discussing the future of our city.” He took a deep breath for dramatic effect. “Now, are there any motions?” He scanned the room, seeing two hands raised with their forefingers up to indicate their intent to introduce a motion.
This was strange. I hadn’t anticipated more than one motion being introduced today. Halit pursed his lips, as if annoyed, but he somehow didn’t look surprised. He pointed to the first member of Parliament, a young man named Nold Oris. He was the one who was supposed to speak. Not that we could stop the second.
“Member Oris,” Halit said, and I could have sworn I heard his voice almost shake.
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” Oris said as he rose from his seat to address the Parliament. “As many of you know, we seek to introduce a motion to alter Termina’s Constitution and extend basic rights to the foxgirls population, as well as list a new Bill of Rights when it comes to the spirit world and the procedures known colloquially as bindings. If you turn your attention to your briefs, you will find the proposed changes listed there.”
Oris looked around at his colleagues, his eyes darting about almost nervously. I removed my feet from my desk and perched on the edge of my chair. Something felt off about all this.
“Excellent, thank you, Member Oris,” Halit said as his eyes flicked over the notes before him. “Shall we discuss it?”
The other man, the one who had also raised his hand to make a motion, raised it again. He represented my district, the one in the heart of Termina’s north side and financial districts. A youngish man, maybe around forty, Gersen had dark brown hair cut short and a strange cybernetic implant on the right side of his head. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was supposed to do, but it was covered in flickering green lights that gave a look that was less than human. Even so, he’d expressed what I found to be a genuine interest in remaking Termina into what it once was and easily won election in this district.
“Member Gersen,” Halit said, almost through gritted teeth. “Do you have a comment on this matter? You will get to make your motion once we discuss the one that is already on the table.”
“Of course, Prime Minister.” Gersen bowed his head in deference to Halit, and the flickering lights on his cybernetic implant shifted in the process, obscuring the whole holographic image in the green light for a brief moment. “I do, in fact, have a comment on this matter if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, Member Gersen.” The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes at the man in an expression that conveyed that he really did mind after all, but Gersen continued nonetheless.
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” he said. “Now, originally, I must say that I supported this new proposal by Member Oris, but after examining it more closely, I believe that we need to exercise more caution than we have thus far on this matter. There is an entire industry surrounding the foxgir
ls, and that industry practically sustains the lives and livelihoods of my entire district, not to mention many of my fellow Members’ constituents as well. I strongly believe that it would be unwise to move forward with Member Oris’s proposal. I have similar feelings about this new ‘Binding Bill of Rights’ as some have called it, for similar reasons.”
Gersen paused for effect. “Bindings are at the heart of Termina’s economy. Stunting it in such a way would have far-reaching adverse consequences that we have not even yet begun to get a glimpse of in these past weeks of change in our city. I welcome any thoughts that the rest of you may have on the matter.”
With that, Gersen sat down and gave a small smile to the camera, briefly blinding the holo feed for a moment again with his cybernetic implant. I stared, shell-shocked with my mouth wide open, at the holo-cast.
“What. The. Fuck?” I said, trying to grasp what had just happened.
Had Gersen played me somehow? Did he lie his way all the way to the Parliament? And why was it that no one there looked particularly surprised by any of this? Wouldn’t Halit or Oris or someone have told me if they knew this was in the works?
These questions and more raced through my head as I stared at the holo feed, waiting for someone else to speak. I wanted to pick up my phone and call Halit, Oris, or, hell, even Gersen right then and there, but they were all in session. There was no reaching them now, no stopping this. No communication in or out of the proceedings was allowed while the Parliament was in session. I’d seen to it that these rules were strengthened in order to ensure that outside influencers couldn’t take over the Parliament.
“Thank you, Member Gersen, for your comments,” Halit said, stony-faced. “Does anyone else have any thoughts?”
Several hands shot up across the vast corridors, and one after another, the members that I had personally ensured had a place in Parliament spoke up against Oris’s proposal. My proposal.
Some looked and sounded triumphant when they spoke, others meek and scared. One man kept stumbling over his words and was barely able to get out his position against the proposal, his eyes darting around nervously and lingering on the holo cameras as if he knew someone was watching him. He was far from the only one to act this way. Were they afraid because they knew I was watching and was no doubt enraged by the proceedings? Or was it something else… someone else?
Not one member spoke up in favor of the proposal.
As the commentary dragged on, Halit appeared to grow more and more disheartened, and so did much of the Parliament itself, even those who were speaking themselves. They largely echoed in vague and broad terms the concerns that Gersen had already given.
Eventually, Oris raised his hand again.
“Member Oris,” Halit said almost hesitantly.
“Thank you, Prime Minister.” Oris stood again and straightened out his shirt, which had become rumpled throughout the course of the proceedings. “I must say, after hearing my colleagues’ many concerns about this proposal, I must say that I have been swayed. I hereby withdraw the motion and take it off of the table for discussion.”
He sat down quickly and kept his eyes away from the camera, as if ashamed.
“Very well, Member Oris.” Halit sighed. “The motion is hereby withdrawn. Are there any other motions for the floor?”
Of course, Gersen shot up his hand again, forefinger extended to indicate he had a motion, but Halit didn’t call on him right away. He rubbed his eyes and leaned forward in his seat as if he wished he was anywhere else in the world.
“Very well, the chair recognizes Member Gersen,” he said when he raised his head again. As Gersen rose once again to address the Parliament, the Prime Minister slumped back into his chair.
“Thank you, Prime Minister,” Gersen said, bowing his head and smiling to Halit once more. “I thank my fellow members for taking my concerns on the previous motion under careful consideration. Now, I ask that they afford the same attention to my own motion, which is to deregulate the binding market effective immediately and to remove all boundaries to the performance of any and all foxgirl bindings.”
“Very well, Member Gersen, the motion is on the floor for discussion,” Halit announced, his voice heavy, and his shoulders still slumped. “Will you also speak in defense of this motion?”
“Of course, Prime Minister,” Gersen said before continuing. “Just as I said in my argument against the previous motion, both the foxgirl and binding markets are the cornerstone of our robust economy here in Termina. For years, decades even, we know full well that these markets have operated without much if any regulation and have benefited our city and its people immensely as a result. Now that efforts are being made to enforce existing laws and undermine the most basic structure of our economy and culture, I believe it necessary to formally deregulate these markets to ensure that Termina moves into its future flourishing and ready to face any hardships that may come.”
“Thank you once again, Member Gersen,” Halit said. “Does anyone else have a comment for or against this motion?”
To my relief, Oris immediately raised his hand.
“Member Oris,” Halit said, recognizing him.
“Thank you, Prime Minister, and thank you, Member Gersen, for this fascinating and timely proposal,” Oris began, and my heart sank. “I wish to speak out in agreement with this. I believe it will merely recognize in law what has already become common practice here in Termina. The benefits to our economy will be immense. We already see a downturn given current efforts to change our ways here in the city. This will correct for that and leave no room for any further efforts of this nature. Thank you.”
“Are there any other comments on this proposal?” Halit asked, and once again, dozens of hands shot up into the air. One after another, the very people I had put into power to protect the foxgirls spoke out in favor of stripping them of their most basic rights.
I was floored. I had no idea how this had happened or when. There hadn’t been a hint or even a whisper of something like this that I knew of beforehand. And I had Malthe constantly checking up on and looking into these people.
Finally, once everyone had had their say, Halit spoke again.
“Very well, I believe that’s everyone,” he said. “Thank you all for your comments. If there is not more, I believe it is time to call a vote. As I call your name, say yay or nay to the proposal.”
And with that, Halit read through every single person on the list, and every single person on the list voted in favor of the proposal. Finally, Halit arrived at his own name.
“I vote yay,” he said quickly, rushing through the words. I stood up then, pounding my fists on my desk.
“What?” I screamed at the holovision. “I put you there, you bastard! What do you think you’re doing?”
But Halit couldn’t hear me. No one could.
“Very well, did I get everyone?” he asked, raising his eyes from the roll call and scanning the room. “Yes? Good. The motion passes with a unanimous vote. Welcome to the twelve-hundred and sixty-third iteration of Parliament, everyone. I believe that’s enough for today. Session adjourned.”
And with that, everyone got up to leave or mingle, and the holovision went dark briefly before returning to news commentary. I didn’t shut it off, wanting to hear what the commentators had to say on the matter.
“In a stunning development this morning, the new Parliament shot down the long-planned motion to establish a Binding Bill of Rights and strengthen protections for the foxgirls,” the anchor reported, a bit in shock herself. “Instead, they voted unanimously to do just the opposite, codifying the former status quo into law. One has to wonder what new TelCorp CEO Nic Joch has to say about this. He must be fuming right now.”
“No kidding,” I grumbled, grabbing my phone off my desk and dialing Oris. Well, at least the anchors also seemed like they were surprised by the whole thing. It wasn’t just me who was in the dark about it all.
“Mr. Joch,” Oris said nervously on the other lin
e, and I muted the holovision so that I could talk to him properly. “What can I do for you this fine morning?”
“What can you do for me?” I asked incredulously. “What can you do for me? Are you fucking kidding me, Oris? What happened today? Why did you cave? Why did you speak out in favor of that asshole’s motion? What the actual fuck?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Joch, I just had a change of heart is all.” Oris’s voice was trembling, though his words were clear. “I had to vote my conscience is all. That’s what you always told us we had to do, after all. That we shouldn’t be beholden to TelCorp just because you helped us get where we are.”
“That’s not what I meant!” I screamed. “I meant vote your conscience, as in don’t make people fucking slaves! Whatever happened to that, Oris, huh? What happened to your principles?”
“I… as I said in the meeting, Mr. Joch, I’m deeply concerned about the financial future of our city,” Oris said, speaking hurriedly.
“Our financial future is better than ever!” I roared, cutting him off. “You’ve seen the numbers, you imbecile. We’re doing just fine!”
“The other binding corps, sir, they’re not doing quite so fine,” Oris continued. “They’re doing quite poorly, in fact. While TelCorp is a large part of our economy, I’ll admit, it’s not the only part.”
“You know very well that the reason those other companies aren’t doing well is that they refuse to change with the times,” I explained through gritted teeth. “If they accepted the way things are now, they’d be able to cash in on all the new opportunities this new direction has afforded them. And they will, in time.”
“I… I wish I shared your confidence, Mr. Joch,” Oris said quietly.
“You did an hour ago,” I snapped. “What changed?”
“Just my mind, sir, nothing else,” Oris said. “I have to go now.” Before I could get another word in, he clicked away on the other line.
Fuming, I furiously dialed Gersen’s number. That little fucker was going to pay for this.