Chapter 6
ELIJAH
Vice President Rod Meaney had no bad news to darken the President’s day of triumph. He informed the President that all was well in the world, or as well as could be hoped in a Time Of Uncertainty when the Forces Of Evil were encroaching implacably from every direction.
The forces of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known were fully in control of every region and sector of Iraz except for those that were under the control of the Arisists, or the Irazi Liberation Army, or the Organization for a Free Iraz, or local warlords, or marauding street-gangs, or ad-hoc neighborhood citizens groups.
Sidi Hamid, the ex-Potentate of Iraz, was still in custody, still grousing about the quality of the food, the lack of sexual refreshment, and various indignities to his person and his spirit.
And Omar bin Sifr was still at large.
Two orders of business remained. The President had to sign the Order of Conferral, officially endowing the Vice President with Level-1 (i.e. Presidential) Authority, thereby making him the de-facto leader of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known while the President was otherwise occupied with his inaugural pomp. And the President had to give the Vice President the Daily Password.
The President hesitated. He was looking out the window towards the Capitol dome and the flag that fluttered there a little wildly in the morning breeze. It was not that he was unwilling to share the password with the Vice President, but rather that he was savoring the drama of the moment. One great statesman was about to pass a secret on to another not quite so great but still pretty formidable statesman. Matters of national security in the balance. Eyes (or in this case, he supposed, ears) only. This was what it was all about. The big game. The big guys playing the big game. With big things at stake.
“And the Daily Password is... ready?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Got a pen?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“’Cause I’m only gonna say this once. It’s a big secret, you know.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Okay. Here goes.”
The President paused for dramatic effect.
“Elijah.”
“Again, sir?”
“Rod, I told you I was only gonna say it once.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I heard the password. I meant, we’re going to be using that password again sir?”
“Well, it’s a pretty good password, don’t you think?”
“Yes it is sir.”
“I mean, can you think of a better one?”
There was another pause. Of course Meaney could think of a better one. He had great ideas for passwords all the time. VERTIGO. HAZMAT. RECKONING. CORNFLOWER. He was a veritable mine of ideas on the subject. But password generation wasn’t his job and he wasn’t about to be tricked into doing somebody else’s heavy lifting for them.
“No, sir.”
“Course you can’t. I can’t either. It’s the best one so far, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Am I right?”
“Of course, sir.”
“So we’re gonna stay the course until somebody thinks of a better one.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Of course not, sir.”
“Okay, then.”
There followed another pause which Vice President Rod Meaney didn’t know quite how to interpret. He worried that somehow the President secretly suspected him of thinking he could come up with a better password. Was this possible? They had started off on such a good footing and now it seemed that neither of them could think of anything to say. What had gone wrong?
Meaney popped another Priapax™ and washed it down with a gulp of room-temperature (which in the CNT was always precisely 71.75 degrees) instant decaf coffee.
“Are... are you angry at me, Mr. President?”
“Angry? No, I’m not angry. What gave you that idea?”
“Nothing. It’s just that, I don’t know, I thought maybe you were upset about the password.”
“The password? No, I’m not upset about the password. I mean, you were telling the truth when you said you couldn’t think of a better one, right?”
“Mr. President, of course.”
“So then why would I be angry?”
An awkward silence momentarily prevailed over the line connecting the President of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known with his Vice President, who may or may not have been secretly in love with him.
Then the two men spoke simultaneously.
“Okay, so...” said the President.
“Well, I suppose...” said Vice President Rod Meaney.
Each paused for a moment. Then they both spoke again at the same time.
“All right, then...” said the President.
“So, then, Mr. P...” said Vice President Rod Meaney.
They both paused again. The President chuckled. The Vice President emitted a grunt that had been intended as a chuckle, but somehow didn’t come out that way.
“Go ahead, Rod.”
“No, you go ahead, Mr. President.”
“All right. So you got the password.”
“Elijah.” Meaney rolled his eyes as he said it – not only was this not the best password, it wasn’t even the best biblical password, or even the best old testament password. What about Ahasuerus? Ishbosheth? Nimrud? That was three right there, right off the top of his head, and he wasn’t even trying.
“You got everything else you need down there?”
“Don’t worry about me, Mr. President.”
“Okay then. I’m signing the conferral order now.”
The President signed a formal order conferring Level-1 Authority upon the Vice President effective from the moment of signing through six o’clock p.m. of the same day or such time as the President should personally intervene to rescind such authority.
Vice President Rod Meaney waited at the other end of the open line. He could overhear the President reciting his name quietly to himself as he wrote out the words.
“Joooohn Quiiinnn-cy Juuuuu-nior. There. So that makes you the man, Rod.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Okay, now I’ve got to go get myself inaugurated.”
“Congratulations, sir. This is a great day for all peace and freedom loving people around the world.” The Vice President read this last sentence from a memo that all administration members had received the day before from Kurt Vole.
“You don’t have to tell me that, Rod. I won’t say that I couldn’t’ve done it without you, because that would be a lie. But it probably would’ve been a damn sight harder. So thanks for all you’ve contributed to the cause.”
“I’m just honored to do my part, sir.”
“You’ll be watching on the TV – or whatever the hell it is you’ve got down there in the TLC?”
“CNT, sir. A hypo-semantic thrice-shuffled fusion decrypted pseudo-videonic image presentation device. Yes, of course, sir. I’ll be watching.”
“It’s gonna be quite a show. Okay then, don’t get into any trouble.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Oh, and Rod?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Try not to blow up the world.”
“No, sir.”
“That was a joke, Rod.”
“Oh. Yes, sir. A joke. Of course, sir.”
Vice President Rod Meaney, now the most powerful person ever to have walked upon the surface of the earth pro-tem, forced a chuckle and this time it came out more or less exactly as he intended – it rang almost merrily in the heart of the Undisclosed Location and along the open line for an instant before the President hung up. But John Quincy Junior did not hear it, for he had turned his attention to the great whooshing and chopping of the helicopter outside that waited to bear him to glory.
Next chapter:
AN ARMADILLO IS TO A TYRANNOSAURUS REX AS THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON OR CREATURE OR ENTITY OF ANY KIND EVER TO HAVE WALKED UPON THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH IS TO GOD, in which the President uses his talent for analogy to identify his position in the Scheme of Things.
Vice President Rod Meaney had no bad news to darken the President’s day of triumph. He informed the President that all was well in the world, or as well as could be hoped in a Time Of Uncertainty when the Forces Of Evil were encroaching implacably from every direction.
The forces of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known were fully in control of every region and sector of Iraz except for those that were under the control of the Arisists, or the Irazi Liberation Army, or the Organization for a Free Iraz, or local warlords, or marauding street-gangs, or ad-hoc neighborhood citizens groups.
Sidi Hamid, the ex-Potentate of Iraz, was still in custody, still grousing about the quality of the food, the lack of sexual refreshment, and various indignities to his person and his spirit.
And Omar bin Sifr was still at large.
Two orders of business remained. The President had to sign the Order of Conferral, officially endowing the Vice President with Level-1 (i.e. Presidential) Authority, thereby making him the de-facto leader of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known while the President was otherwise occupied with his inaugural pomp. And the President had to give the Vice President the Daily Password.
The President hesitated. He was looking out the window towards the Capitol dome and the flag that fluttered there a little wildly in the morning breeze. It was not that he was unwilling to share the password with the Vice President, but rather that he was savoring the drama of the moment. One great statesman was about to pass a secret on to another not quite so great but still pretty formidable statesman. Matters of national security in the balance. Eyes (or in this case, he supposed, ears) only. This was what it was all about. The big game. The big guys playing the big game. With big things at stake.
“And the Daily Password is... ready?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Got a pen?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“’Cause I’m only gonna say this once. It’s a big secret, you know.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Okay. Here goes.”
The President paused for dramatic effect.
“Elijah.”
“Again, sir?”
“Rod, I told you I was only gonna say it once.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I heard the password. I meant, we’re going to be using that password again sir?”
“Well, it’s a pretty good password, don’t you think?”
“Yes it is sir.”
“I mean, can you think of a better one?”
There was another pause. Of course Meaney could think of a better one. He had great ideas for passwords all the time. VERTIGO. HAZMAT. RECKONING. CORNFLOWER. He was a veritable mine of ideas on the subject. But password generation wasn’t his job and he wasn’t about to be tricked into doing somebody else’s heavy lifting for them.
“No, sir.”
“Course you can’t. I can’t either. It’s the best one so far, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Am I right?”
“Of course, sir.”
“So we’re gonna stay the course until somebody thinks of a better one.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Of course not, sir.”
“Okay, then.”
There followed another pause which Vice President Rod Meaney didn’t know quite how to interpret. He worried that somehow the President secretly suspected him of thinking he could come up with a better password. Was this possible? They had started off on such a good footing and now it seemed that neither of them could think of anything to say. What had gone wrong?
Meaney popped another Priapax™ and washed it down with a gulp of room-temperature (which in the CNT was always precisely 71.75 degrees) instant decaf coffee.
“Are... are you angry at me, Mr. President?”
“Angry? No, I’m not angry. What gave you that idea?”
“Nothing. It’s just that, I don’t know, I thought maybe you were upset about the password.”
“The password? No, I’m not upset about the password. I mean, you were telling the truth when you said you couldn’t think of a better one, right?”
“Mr. President, of course.”
“So then why would I be angry?”
An awkward silence momentarily prevailed over the line connecting the President of The Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known with his Vice President, who may or may not have been secretly in love with him.
Then the two men spoke simultaneously.
“Okay, so...” said the President.
“Well, I suppose...” said Vice President Rod Meaney.
Each paused for a moment. Then they both spoke again at the same time.
“All right, then...” said the President.
“So, then, Mr. P...” said Vice President Rod Meaney.
They both paused again. The President chuckled. The Vice President emitted a grunt that had been intended as a chuckle, but somehow didn’t come out that way.
“Go ahead, Rod.”
“No, you go ahead, Mr. President.”
“All right. So you got the password.”
“Elijah.” Meaney rolled his eyes as he said it – not only was this not the best password, it wasn’t even the best biblical password, or even the best old testament password. What about Ahasuerus? Ishbosheth? Nimrud? That was three right there, right off the top of his head, and he wasn’t even trying.
“You got everything else you need down there?”
“Don’t worry about me, Mr. President.”
“Okay then. I’m signing the conferral order now.”
The President signed a formal order conferring Level-1 Authority upon the Vice President effective from the moment of signing through six o’clock p.m. of the same day or such time as the President should personally intervene to rescind such authority.
Vice President Rod Meaney waited at the other end of the open line. He could overhear the President reciting his name quietly to himself as he wrote out the words.
“Joooohn Quiiinnn-cy Juuuuu-nior. There. So that makes you the man, Rod.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Okay, now I’ve got to go get myself inaugurated.”
“Congratulations, sir. This is a great day for all peace and freedom loving people around the world.” The Vice President read this last sentence from a memo that all administration members had received the day before from Kurt Vole.
“You don’t have to tell me that, Rod. I won’t say that I couldn’t’ve done it without you, because that would be a lie. But it probably would’ve been a damn sight harder. So thanks for all you’ve contributed to the cause.”
“I’m just honored to do my part, sir.”
“You’ll be watching on the TV – or whatever the hell it is you’ve got down there in the TLC?”
“CNT, sir. A hypo-semantic thrice-shuffled fusion decrypted pseudo-videonic image presentation device. Yes, of course, sir. I’ll be watching.”
“It’s gonna be quite a show. Okay then, don’t get into any trouble.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Oh, and Rod?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Try not to blow up the world.”
“No, sir.”
“That was a joke, Rod.”
“Oh. Yes, sir. A joke. Of course, sir.”
Vice President Rod Meaney, now the most powerful person ever to have walked upon the surface of the earth pro-tem, forced a chuckle and this time it came out more or less exactly as he intended – it rang almost merrily in the heart of the Undisclosed Location and along the open line for an instant before the President hung up. But John Quincy Junior did not hear it, for he had turned his attention to the great whooshing and chopping of the helicopter outside that waited to bear him to glory.
Next chapter:
AN ARMADILLO IS TO A TYRANNOSAURUS REX AS THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON OR CREATURE OR ENTITY OF ANY KIND EVER TO HAVE WALKED UPON THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH IS TO GOD, in which the President uses his talent for analogy to identify his position in the Scheme of Things.
© by N. Ominous 27.12.04
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