(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) Continued from here
Councillor Ace Metus checked his bathroom door was locked before he removed his eye patch. Behind the black velvet was a bionic eye. He exhaled as he popped it from the socket and placed it into the port on his laptop. Slowly the laptop downloaded all the info stored in it. The eye was more of a recording device than an actual eye, hence the patch. It also housed a dual shot plasma blaster which made him feel like a Bond villain.
Ace looked at his watch and then at the download bar, tapping his fingers on the sink to pass the time.
**
“Go to lunch please Melissa,” said Councillor Sarah Armand to her receptionist. “I have some papers to read.”
“Yes ma’am,” Melissa said as she got up from her desk.
Sarah shut the door behind her and went into her office. Her eyeballs rolled back in her head and her skin shuddered before literally shattering like a dropped wine glass.
“Ahhh!” she exhaled with delight as she took her carrier form. Sarah looked in the mirror and admired her own beauty. She was quite literally stunning; as if Aphrodite and Legolas had a daughter. Her dragonfly-esque wings on her back vibrated with an electric hum. If given a choice she would stay in this form always but with the carrier hysteria over people like Wind Duster and The Quoll she had to maintain her façade.
The door flew open as Melissa re-entered the room. The young girl froze on the spot looking at Sarah like a deer in the headlights.
{Melissa} Sarah’s ethereal voice wafted like chamber music into the young girls ears {You saw nothing}
“I saw nothing,” Melissa echoed.
{Why are you here?}
“I forgot my handbag.”
Sarah shook her head {Good help is hard to find. You will go to lunch}
“I will go to lunch”
{You will not look when you cross the street}
“I will not look as I cross the street.”
{You have decided that today is the day you have shots of vodka for lunch}
“I have decided that today is the day I have shots of vodka for lunch.”
{Run along}
Melissa grabbed her bag and exited. Sarah flew across the room and locked the door behind her. “I am going to miss her. Good help is so hard to find these days.”
**
Councillor Brock O’Flea looked at the yellow envelope full of cash thoughtfully. He weighed it in his hand against some invisible scale before placing the envelope back into the hands of the young Asian man who’d given it to him. O’Flea patted him on the shoulder.
“Son, you can tell the Quan’s that my price is thirty times what’s in that envelope,” the old man leant on his cane. “And when they cough that amount up, my price will rise again by another thirty times.”
“You would be wise to take this gift,” the young man said.
“Son, I don’t take gifts from anybody,” Brock shuffled to the door of his chamber and opened it up “No gifts, no cards, no loans and just in case I’m not being clear, no bribes. Now, get!”
“What?”
“Get. Scram. Vamoose. Leave. Exit. Bye. Out!” He pointed to the open door. “And don’t come back or I’ll call the CBTF and say you’re a blight.”
The young man swore in his native tongue as he tore out of the office. Brock tapped the door shut with his cane and retired to his desk to finish his tea.
**
Councillor Colonel Matthew Myers flipped through the briefing he had on the Detention Center For Criminally Inclined Carriers, the facility that The Reverend Doctor Dentist had seemingly just waltzed out of without so much as an alarm, bell or whistle going off. If he had his way he’d implement martial law on all carriers whether they helped or hindered the judicial process and execute them. Remove them from the equation.
Indigo City had for the nest part of a year since The Great Impact or TGI, had been gripped in fear due to people with mysterious powers of varying natures running rampant. The Quoll, Rocking Roll, Zack Attack, Wind Duster, rumours of some diver or aquatic carrier, the seemingly untouchable Lex Hard and the stories of some wolf in the Kingville Forest raising an army combined with blights.
“Kill’em all, let God sort’em out!” He said aloud as he rocked in his chair reading the specs on the generator that essentially depowered carriers.
Bzzzzt! “Your one o’clock is here sir” barked the intercom. He put all the papers back into the folder.
“Send them in.”
**
“...ith honesty, integrity, and accountability!” stated Suzanne Louis-Mendez as she addressed the luncheon where she was the keynote speaker. The crowd broke into rapturous applause which made her smile. Suzanne waved as she left the podium to begin the meet and greet. It was the tedious part of the job but highly necessary. She smiled broadly and led with her hands as she stepped to the first of what would be countless people.
**
“Praise the Lord Jesus!” yelled a homeless man as Mayor Locke stepped out of the limo. He smiled and waved at the man as he looked at the monstrosity known as the T-Zone. Even in Lovecraft this building was an eyesore. He took out his phone and took several photos. Why on Earth did Broccoli and co want this saved? Why did Scahill want it torn down?
“Jesus told me that you had a solar to spare!” yelled the man as he approached Lomond. The driver who doubled as bodyguard kept the homeless man a safe distance. Mayor Locke tapped his driver on the shoulder and the big man stepped aside.
“Didn’t God say he helps those who help themselves?” Lomond asked as he pulled his wallet out.
“First Corinthians chapter seven verse five, do not deprive one another. Praise Jesus!”
Lomond nodded “You should be in politics. Now are you registered to vote?”
The man threw his hands up. “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Romans, chapter thirteen verse one. Praise the Lord!”
“Is that a yes?” Lomond pulled out some money and paused, waiting for the reporter who’d just arrived to get his camera focused. When he was ready Lomond handed over the money and smiled his big political smile “Glad I could help sir.”
“Praise the Lord on high!”
**
Councillor Nathan Harrison nodded as the gym instructor loaded the barbell up to 470lbs. Nathan took the bar in his big black fingers and lifted it. The gym instructor hovered nearby as he did six slow but full reps before grunting and the weight was taken off him. He jumped up and roared as adrenaline coursed through his veins.
“How you like me now?” he yelled at the small group of spectators in the gym. They applauded on cue. Nathan high fived several only to stop when his PA wiggled a phone at him.
“Sorry sir, but it’s the head of the zoning committee.”
Nathan wiped the sweat off his chiselled ebony body and took the phone “Councillor Nathan Harrison speaking.”
“Remember who put you in your job Nathan!” growled the slightly distorted voice at the other end. “If I find out you voted with Broccoli again on the T-Zone, your head will roll. This is not a metaphor. Enjoy your workout.”
Nathan whirled around scanning the gym.
“Something wrong sir?” as ked his PA as she took his phone back.
“No…s’all good.”
To be continued…hopefully…soonish
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