Delegate Niles Beech
was a low ranking politician, as far removed from power as one could be and still be considered a part of the organization. It wasn’t because of a lack of ambition; he wanted all the power he could get
his hands on. He wanted all the power in the world, but he wanted none of the
responsibility. Why should someone in office be responsible for their actions? He was above the ordinaries; he could do to them as he wanted. You could ask that homeless guy he ran down last year, if you could ever find the body. He cracked open the seal of a fresh bottle of scotch and poured himself another generous measure. A reward for another day’s work. He
took a good long sip of the auburn nectar and let out an "ah" of appreciation.
He may be the black
sheep of the Beech family now, but he’d show them, he’d show them all. His
brother and three sisters may be doing better than he was right now, but things would change, they’d see. He was going to get the top job, the Directorship of the nation.
He looked up as
his meal ticket entered the room. A thin pasty man with arms and legs just too
slender and a head just the wrong shape to appear human. Cavity was his way to
power, his means to getting all the power he’d ever want.
Cavity sat down
on the red leather chair and lit up a cigar. “There’s a way to get
you all you’ve ever wanted.”
Beech grinned. “That’s just the sort of thing I like to hear.”
Beech stood on the
podium and prepared to deliver the speech that would guarantee his success. He
had learned it by rote; after all why bother learning to read a spoken language? It
didn’t make any sense. “The subdivisioner has got to understand if
she's going to have — she can't have it both ways. She can't take the high horse and then claim the low road.” He grinned in triumph at his witty opening remark.
The 2nd Subdivision of the 3rd Council was his for the taking.
the newly elected Subdivisioner. “I knew we could do it.”
Beech nodded. “We sure did. An extra twenty thousand
a year, I can afford a third car for my wife.”
is yours, but perhaps we should start thinking about drawing up plans for the Division?”
Cavity smiled, like a shark-eating killer whale.
It only took six
years of not-very-hard-work and the Division was his. Beech sat in the huge office
and surveyed his new domain. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d be close but I felt that he was holding something back for the end.”
“He was.” Cavity said casually. “But I removed
that small obstacle in our way. Now Mr. Divisioner, nothing stands between you
and the Directorship next year.”
“Next year?” Beech poured himself a glass and downed it in seconds.
He poured himself three more in rapid fashion. “You really think
I can be the Director?”
I do.” Cavity replied. “Even
your father thinks so, you’re not the black sheep of the family anymore. You’re
the favourite son now, the golden child. He wants to meet you tomorrow, to discuss
busy playing golf.” Beech slurred.
meet him, let him see how well you’ve done. I’ll have your secretary
reschedule your game.”
at my summer house right now, I’m driving up there tonight to celebrate in style.”
think that’s wise. Your opponents will be looking for any scandal they
can get a hold of.”
“My wife made
me have the affair, she said I needed to practice on a timid little thing like her before I’m ready to go to bed with
a real woman.”
we can’t afford the scandal. I’ll have a word with your wife and
explain the situation to her.”
hurt her, will you?”
I won’t kill her, and even if I did I can always clone you a more…suggestive…copy.”
“Do it.” Beech replied. “Like you said,
I can’t afford the scandal. “Replace the secretary…I don’t
think I learned her name. Replace her with a copy that can file properly and
make a proper cup of coffee.”
Cavity smiled. “I’m glad we agree on things, we must make sure nothing gets in the way
of you and the Directorship.”
Beech had found
the clone of his wife was a far more amenable woman. She was not the hot-headed
firebrand that he’d been forced to marry to get her father’s nomination all those years ago. However the clone did have a habit of sitting about doing nothing if not given proper instruction,
thanks to the mental chip in her head that controlled and suppressed every aspect of her mind except the desire to obey orders. Also her cute birthmark was gone, as was the slight shortness in one leg and her need
for glasses. That she could pass off as those new contact lenses that were all
the rage. She didn’t even mind if the secretary joined them in bed. Beech was happy, things were really going his way at last and he didn’t have
to worry about a thing. He knew what was best for everyone and he’d show
them that. He had plans to take their worries and fears away from them for good,
he’d given them total security and a worry-free life. These mind-wipe implants
would revolutionise the planet’s economy. Think of how he could solve labour
shortages, by turning the criminals and the great unwashed into mindless drones, he’d be hailed a hero. And those who got in his way, well one implant later and they’d be his obedient puppet until he cut
their strings. His legacy for the future was to create a better world, one that
he controlled utterly. He would create his own army of minions and he could have
his way with any woman he wanted and she’d never have a choice about it. He
summoned his secretary, then prepared to implant for her, after all he didn’t want her leaking any secrets to his rivals
anymore, plus she was fantastic in bed.