Chapter 10

WHO'S THE MAN?

The Vice President tried to shrug off the unhappy memory just as he’d tried to shrug his unhappy heart back into place. He reminded himself that he was alone, alone, blessedly alone. Ortolan was thousands of miles away in France, no doubt eating some kind of moldy cheese in his family's castle, or perhaps besmirching the already questionable dignity of his office by deflowering a ripe young intern right there on his desk -- a desk paid for by the drastically overtaxed French people. But he, Meaney, was safely ensconced beneath 28,000 cubic yards of reinforced concrete, 8000 feet underground in the Undisclosed Location -- the place he loved best.

He looked around the CNT -- the hundreds of little blinking lights soothed him. The consoles and monitors that surrounded him beeped or purred quietly in a secret language that only he could understand. They said, "it's okay Roddy Boy, you're the man. You're our guy and don't you think twice about it. Come on, Rod, let's see a smile."

The Vice President continued to glower. He was still thinking of smug Ortolan.

"Come on, Roddy. We know there's a smile in there somewhere... Come on. You can do it..."

Meaney continued to pout, but it was hard to resist the cajoling of all these machines that thought so well of him and wanted only for him to be happy. The left side of his mouth began to twitch slightly.

"That's is Rod. Now, who's our guy?"

The Vice President shrugged and looked aside bashfully, but he was secretly pleased.

"Come on -- who's our number-one guy?" The consoles and monitors twinkled and flashed and bleeped and purred...

"I am," murmurred the Vice President.

"What was that? We didn't quite catch that," bleeped the consoles.

"I am," said the Vice President.

"That's right, Roddy. You are. Now, we don't want to see any more of this pouting. You're the man! Come on -- let's hear you say it."

These computers were telling him that he was the man, which was something that he already knew, but it was nice to hear from an objective source. These were state-of-the-art, precision devices -- they didn't make mistakes. They didn't play politics. Their judgment wasn't impaired by feelings or weak-kneed philosphies. They were pure, objective, infallible computing machines that saw things as they were. They understood. They got it.

"I'm the man," said Vice President Rod Meaney.

"You're darned tootin'!" said the machines. "Now don't you forget it."

Meaney reached for his little blue bottle of Priapax™ and reminded himself that he was sitting at the helm of the the Most Powerful Nation The World Has Ever Known -- the ultimate Cockpit -- and he was the Captain, fully in command and flying solo.

There were only two pills left in the bottle. Meaney figured he might as well pop them both – why not? There was plenty more where they came from. To be precise, there was enough Priapax™ stored in the Undisclosed Location to keep 150 male VIPs in a state of constant readiness for a minimum of 200 years. Somewhat more than a lifetime’s supply.



Next Chapter:

PRIAPAX™, in which we learn a little about what's up with the Vice President.