(This is a sporadic, limited series that deals with those who govern the fair Indigo City. Politics, dirty dealings, dislikes and such. Stuff in red are reference links to other 5th Column stories. Rated MA)
Indigo City Mayoral Office, Central.
Mayor Lomond Locke stretched his cybernetic hand. At times it felt like a glove, like right now and at others like his real hand. He paused, wondering if Scahill actually had his hand in a jar somewhere in the CBTF vaults. Lomond looked across the table at Councillor Eric Wellings who was playing with his phone.
Wellings was a political animal through and through. He drank the Kool-Aid, he probably brewed it! Lomond respected his abilities but as a person, socially they had little in common. Wellings was a fat half black, half something who liked making model ships and collecting spoons when he wasn’t trolling for barely legal escorts in Lovecraft.
Next to Wellings sat Suzanne Louis-Mendez. An attractive French-Canadian mix Latino woman who was approaching middle age. She won her place partly due to her beauty but also sympathy as she lost her right leg during TGI though in very different circumstance to how Lomond had lost his hand. Hers was a gripping tale, whilst his could never be told since murdering the previous mayor and covering it up was illegal in every country except Burundi & Saudi Arabia.
Across the table sitting like there was a metal rod up his bottom was Matthew Myers or Colonel Matthew Myers as he often reminded people. Myers was a good soldier which meant he took orders and direction quite well. Added in with his almost zealous dislike of carriers made him a fine choice overseeing security infrastructure for Indigo City.
Sitting next to him was Sarah Armand. She worried Lomond because even though she was vocal on her anti-carrier stance, there was something that reminded him of the Hamlet quote “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” Maybe it was her eyes. Either way he would prefer if she got into a lift that didn’t have a lift in it.
He looked at his watch. Typically they were late.
“We have enough for a quorum,” said Lomond as he addressed the room. “If and when the other three get here we shall catch them up. First order of business…”
There was a sharp but casual rap on the door as Nathan Harrison strode in. He was a large man who always looked like he was going to burst out of his tailor made suits. Lomond liked Nathan but his political decisions often flip-flopped on a whim.
“Nice of you to join us Councillor Harrison,” Sarah said suggestively.
“Apologies to all,” he replied as he undressed her with his eyes.
Lomond inhaled sharply and rolled his eyes, it would easier if they just did it here on the table and got it over with than this high school like flirting and innuendo. “First order of business…”
Another tap on the door as Councillor Brock O’Flea shuffled in with his cane. Lomond sighed as the man in his sixties wandered in. “Is your watch broken Brock?”
O’Flea stopped, put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his pocket watch. Slowly, carefully, he popped it open, adjusted his glasses and looked at the time. “Well the big hand is on the twelve…”
Councillor Wellings chuckled at the old man but was soon silent after catching Lomond’s eye. O’Flea ambled to his seat next to Harrison who fist bumped the old man.
“Player.” Smiled Harrison.
“You know it.” O’Flea nodded “Could I get some tea before we get started?”
Lomond’s bionic hand responded to his subconscious desire to crush the old man’s head like an egg, firming into a tight metal ball. The old bastard known as Mr Broccoli was a popular figure and for a politican, pretty clean. He didn’t take bribes, he didn’t get involved in scandal and if Lomond hadn’t done away with Mayor Daughtry during TGI then it would easily be MAYOR Brock O’Flea.
“Why not,” exhaled Lomond “Would you like a biscuit too?”
O’Flea raised his head, pondered the question before smiling “That’d be nice.”
Lomond clenched his teeth, smiled politely and sat down.
“Well, if we’re not going to start,” said Wellings as he hauled himself out of the chair “I’ve got to make a call.”
“What’s his name?” asked Suzanne knowingly. Wellings glared at her before exiting in a huff, phone to his ear. As he got to the door he was stopped by the final member of the council had arrived.
“Leaving already Eric?” said Councillor Ace Metus looking at the little fat ball of a man in his way.
“A-ace, um, no, I…” stammered Wellings. It was the eyepatch that unnerved him as it made Ace’s left eye very distinct and hawk-like.
“I would’ve been here sooner but The Reverent Dentist Doctor just caused a stir down at th…”
“Reverend Doctor Dentist,” corrected Councilor Myers. “If you want to beat the enemy you have to get your facts straight…Ace.”
Mayor Locke stood up “Now that we’ve all arrived, I officially call this meeting to order.”
“What about my tea?” asked O’Flea.
“Feel free to go get some Brock,” said Lomond “But first order of business is the old Temper Industries building in Lovecraft.
O’Flea looked at the mayor. If he left then the council could easily push through the demolition order to remove the T-Zone in Lovecraft which housed large numbers of homeless. He knew he had Metus & Myers on side, possibly Harrison. So leaving to get a cup of tea…
“No, I’ll wait.”
“Then let’s get on with this shall we. I have other things to do today,” Mayor Locke smiled as he picked up the ceremonial gavel.
**
Mayor Locke waved at the small group gathered outside before getting into his limo. An aide handed him a phone.
“Who is it?” he asked as he shut the door.
The aide gulped and passed the phone through the window meaning it was one of two people; his mother or Scahill. The limo drove off.
“Hello?”
“Did you get approval for the T-Zone demolition?” barked the voice at the other end that was not his mother.
“Deadlocked. Broccoli has pulled some heart strings and we’re locked up.”
“Not good enough!”
“Well then why don’t you just blow it up like the power station in Devil’s Den?” Lomond stated angrily down the line
“Watch your tone Locke,”
“Then don’t patronise me! I can get things done but since this is a democracy and not a dictatorship we still have to contend with a few dissenters.”
“Bring them into line or I will.” The line went dead.
Lomond tossed the phone onto the seat and looked out the window. Seemed that today was going to be one of those days.
To be continued....later...
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