Chapter 12
The presidential palace stood proudly gleaming on a hilltop overlooking the capitol city. It had a grand view of that mechanized city full of mechanized people. It was carefully placed to be easily observed and admired by the populace, but in a secure enough location to keep the hordes away if they got restless. The current president, Tyran Max, was as eccentric as they come. He had the palace painted all sorts of gaudy colors. On the grounds of the monstrosity were various exotic animals, some caged, some not. On special days of the year Tyran allowed people to visit the “Presidential Zoo”, at their own risk, of course. The palace itself actually consisted of one gargantuan structure and two lesser palaces facing kitty-corner to the main one. On this day, however, it was a fourth structure, deep underground, in which some imminently important business was to be conducted.
Deep below the main palace in this underground complex was where President Tyran Max awaited his top military officer, General Tool. The underground haven was much grander than most dwellings of the commoners in the Democratic Free State. It had large, open spaces to conduct meetings, along with multiple bedrooms, kitchens, dining areas, sports facilities, and all sorts of colorful gardens kept in bloom year round by the miracles of science. President Tyran himself was a young, tall figure, with a very light complexion, beady eyes, and a somewhat round and squishy clown-like face.
He was leaning back in a plush purple lounge chair at the head of an enormous glass table which could easily seat fifty people. He had spread before him on the table various brilliant and elegant pitchers of coffee, tea, juice, and various other beverages. There were also large jars next to the pitchers. One was marked “sugar”, another marked “salt”, and a third labeled “not sugar or salt”. Dressed in jeans, a hawaiian shirt, and a giant sombrero, he looked anything but presidential. He took a small spoonful from the “not sugar or salt” container and quickly sniffed it. He then took another spoon of the white powder and stirred it into an oversized cup of coffee.
He swiveled anxiously in his chair and eyed the room. Four jumbo monitors, one on each wall, to keep watch of the compound. Four guards, one standing at each wall, and four secretaries, each wearing skirts a bit shorter than what might be considered proper, also standing along the wall. Growing impatient, Tyran hollered at a blond secretary. “Secretary 36D! Why isn’t the general here yet? Can you check and see about his ETA? I’m a busy man, you know. A man like me can’t be kept waiting!” The petite young lady blushed and answered in a loud tone, due to the large distance across the ridiculous size of the conference room, “With all due respect, sir, he’s not due to be here for another five minutes!” “Yeah, I knew that!” he arrogantly shouted back. Just then on one of the monitors, the general was seen being escorted down the corridor on his way to the conference room. At the sight of the overweight general, Tyran rudely joked, “He don’t walk, he waddles! Look at that! Ain’t that funny!” Noticing the lack of laughter from the company in the room, he spoke with feigned indignation, “Well, don’t ya’ll think that’s funny!” Everyone in the room then showed some teeth and let out a forced belly laugh. “There, that’s more like it!” the president approved as he clapped his hands like a child and made his way towards the large steel door to greet the general.
General Tool was huffing and puffing by the time he reached the entrance. Tyran greeted the general with a hearty and overzealous handshake and spoke with a hurried gusto, “Hey fat ass, good to see you again! You need some water?” Then, turning to one of the secretaries continued yapping, “Hey, get this man some water before he passes out!” “That’s not necessary,” assured the giant. “All right, you heard the man, everyone out! Out, out, out!” Tyran ordered the group. Confused, the general said, “But I didn’t say that.” Tyran burst out laughing and, slapping the general on the back, said, “Of course you didn’t! You calling me a liar?” The general wasn’t sure what to say so he kept his mouth shut. All the secretaries and guards left the room and secured the giant steel door behind them.
President Tyran and General Tool sat down at the shiny table. “This is a most urgent matter, which is why I requested to meet in the underground,” the huge man began. Tyran said that he was quite anxious to hear the news as this was the first time General Tool, or any military officer for that matter, had requested such secrecy. The flabby officer then went on to explain exactly what information had fallen into his hands the day before. He gave all the details of what had transpired with agent 0020. Excitedly, the eccentric president declared with glee, “That’s a game changer right there, yes it is! Time to put our thinking caps on!” He then reached for the “not sugar or salt” container and sniffed another hearty spoonful. “So what’s our next move?” the general inquired as he leaned heavily on the table. “Hold that thought!” Tyran shouted as he pushed a button on a transparent screen embedded in the table.
An exotic young mocha-colored maiden quickly ran into the room and, without saying a word, started rubbing the shoulders of Tyran. Due to the highly sensitive nature of what they were discussing, the general felt he had no choice but to suggest that maybe they should remain alone. “Oh, don’t worry about her! She won’t say a word, I promise!” Tyran happily informed his guest as he grinned with pleasure from ear to ear. “How can you be so sure?” asked the perplexed general. Leaning back in his purple chair with a shit eating grin on his face and eyes half closed, Tyran replied, “I’ll have her killed, of course.” The girl instantly started trembling and crying, so the president turned around to comfort her. “Oh, darlin, I was just joking around with my friend here. I’d never do that to you, sweetheart!” he stated with a devilish grin. This calmed the girl and she resumed her methodical rubdown of the president.
General Tool heartily disapproved of such sloppy security measures, but what could he do? After all, Tyran was the president, so he could do just about anything. However, he couldn’t help but second guess himself for telling this erratic clown such world-shaking information. Oh well, nothing he could do now. Back to business.
So what should we do about 0020?” Tyran got a wild-eyed look in his eyes, put a thoughtful finger to his chin and asked, “Is he useful?” The general sighed and said he was of the opinion that the low-level agent would cease to be useful as soon as the backup data storage was ready to go. “After that,” the general continued as he leaned back in his plush sky blue chair, “I can’t think of much use for him.” “Excellent!” exclaimed the giddy president. “Then we’ll have him killed immediately after he’s done setting up all the technical stuff!” Unflinching, the general agreed that this was probably the best course of action. Turning his attention to the masseuse, the jumpy politician grinned wide and relieved her of her duties. She bowed respectfully and started walking away. “Wait!” shouted the president. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? Would you like a little backrub, general? She’s quite adept.” Preferring to speak in private, the general denied his desire to be touched by the youthful beauty and politely refused. As soon as the girl left the room, Tyran pressed another button in the table and a voice came over a speaker embedded in the floor. “Yes, sir,” came the voice of one of the guards outside. “Did you see the young masseuse that just left?” The guard confirmed that he did. “Fantastic. Please follow her and kill her in a discreet manner,” Tyran nonchalantly ordered while licking his lips. “Yes, sir,” came the reply. “Oh guard, and please send in the finest bottle of whisky we have on hand. It’s time to celebrate!” “Would you like me to do that before or after I kill the girl, sir?” Rolling his eyes at the general, Tyran said, “You kill the girl right away, and have someone else bring the whisky. Do I have to think of everything?” “My apologies, sir. Thank you for clarifying.” Tyran hit a button in the table to cut communication.
“So where were we?” asked Tyran in a casual tone as if he had just ordered a pizza instead of a murder. The general, after several years of working with the moody tyrant, still wasn’t accustomed to the detached brutality his boss exhibited so he tried to not show his shock on his face. “We were talking about killing the agent,” the general re-focused their nefarious planning efforts. The president was tapping his fingers in a nervous manner on the table before he burst out, “Where’s that damn whisky!” Right on cue, a long faced man servant entered the room with a brilliant bottle which appeared to be cut from diamond and two fine rocks glasses which he promptly set in front of the schemers.
Tyran eagerly picked up the bottle and poured two generous portions of the potent liquid confidence. He handed one of the drinks to the general, who couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He simply released a powerful jetstream of air, tilted the glass back, and slammed it down in one swift motion. “Atta boy!” approved the fearless leader of the Democratic Free State, who dually retired his drink in one gulp. Slamming his fist on the table, Tyran eyed the giant general across from him. “Ok, so here’s what we do. After whatshisface finishes setting up the auto backup and we have access, then we have him bumped off, then.” The wise leader quickly got a blank look on his face as he looked inquisitively at the floor for a moment. “Then,” he resumed, “We’ll need to get some of our best scientists involved so they can copy the technology they see from the other side.” There was an awkward pause before the general broke the silence, “Then what, sir?” President Tyran Max released a malevolent cackle and slapped the mammoth man on the back. “That’s when the real fun starts, that’s what!”
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