development, an indisputable-anthropological-fuckin’ fact, clearly reinforced by the evolution of politicians, journalists, soap-opera stars, talk-show-hosts, and hairdressers. Certainly my experience has always led me to accept the inherent necessity of these particular elements of our species, but I have never given a rat’s ass about politicians and I wouldn’t let a hairdresser touch me!” (see endnote 4)
Emmett was well-versed in the lore of the late, lamented Mayor Dickie who had written, during his years alone in Sleepy Hollow, his Guide To The Human Soul, a series of tracts which every Mall person supposedly knew-by-heart.
Emmett was a consummate liar who was, nonetheless, not very good at it—it’s my nervous disposition that’s what it is…and that damn errant gene—and, as he stepped into the CleanBus which would take him to Scarborough Mall, he was not overly convinced that Gabriel Kraft had been completely taken in by what Emmett considered to be his ‘act.’ Still, Emmett knew, that dominant-obsessed little cocksucker now had his hands on Gordon’s diary and, as Rhonda said, was ‘in with all the udders.’
Kraft played his options well, thought Emmett. It was a pleasure to watch him watch work, his charm so exactly conceived, his physiological reactions so controlled. Ah, if I could be one-half as talented and deceptive; I was ever-so-nervous, yet was I ever-so-convincing? The delicious part was the ‘under the drawer’ bit. A masterstroke on Emmett’s part really, for Emmett had actually stolen Gordon’s notebook out of his locked drawer only minutes after being informed of his superior’s death.
Obfuscation, prevarication, and just plain bold-face-lying...in the end what was the difference? Psychopathy baffles logic, Emmett assured himself, as surely as deathsmoke never dissipates. That Gabriel Kraft was a man-of-logic, Emmett did not doubt. That he himself was not, he rued.
The doors hissed shut and the airseals on the CleanBus closed with a whoosh and began to move. Emmett remained lost in thought, ignorant of the scrolling advertising screens where windows had once been. Mayor Dickie was right, he was thinking, you cannot trust human beings. They say one thing and do another. They believe, yet they betray. They hate the viruses, but they made them anyway.
Emmett was as sure as anything that Gabriel Kraft would have more to say and do about Emmett’s knowledge of the deception in the Embryo Centre. Emmett had confessed that he had read Gordon’s diary and, as he hoped, Gabriel Kraft had offered to buy his silence. Emmett Strachan’s every wish would have to be fulfilled. Emmett, as scared as he was, was counting on it.
FIVE
You have chosen me to carry on this great inheritance from the Father-of-the-Malls. I am charged…I have accepted…I bear this great burden. The tasks before us are formidable but we are ready for the challenges to come. ( change to upbeat now! ) I am delighted to say that our Exchange is booming! That’s what I said, booming! Last week, Toronto Nation signed a covenant with the Swedes to help repopulate their lands. In return, we are pledged one thousand credits per embryo, the highest price paid yet for Toronto Nation Embryos!—( wait for applause, your Worship! )—It is our duty to help repopulate our allies in Sweden who, need I remind you, bear no blame for any of the catastrophes which befell our world and, indeed, we should be forever grateful to them for reducing Norway, the infamous birthplace of Jeffrey Meilgaard, to that which it is today, a barren rubble. Yes, our duty is heavy, but no heavier than any we would all willingly bear for our beautiful children.
Honour the child! ( three repeats, then wait for silence ).
But I cannot do this…I cannot ensure a wonderful life in the Malls for you and your family without some measure of sacrifice on all your parts . Yes, we all must
Emmett was well-versed in the lore of the late, lamented Mayor Dickie who had written, during his years alone in Sleepy Hollow, his Guide To The Human Soul, a series of tracts which every Mall person supposedly knew-by-heart.
Emmett was a consummate liar who was, nonetheless, not very good at it—it’s my nervous disposition that’s what it is…and that damn errant gene—and, as he stepped into the CleanBus which would take him to Scarborough Mall, he was not overly convinced that Gabriel Kraft had been completely taken in by what Emmett considered to be his ‘act.’ Still, Emmett knew, that dominant-obsessed little cocksucker now had his hands on Gordon’s diary and, as Rhonda said, was ‘in with all the udders.’
Kraft played his options well, thought Emmett. It was a pleasure to watch him watch work, his charm so exactly conceived, his physiological reactions so controlled. Ah, if I could be one-half as talented and deceptive; I was ever-so-nervous, yet was I ever-so-convincing? The delicious part was the ‘under the drawer’ bit. A masterstroke on Emmett’s part really, for Emmett had actually stolen Gordon’s notebook out of his locked drawer only minutes after being informed of his superior’s death.
Obfuscation, prevarication, and just plain bold-face-lying...in the end what was the difference? Psychopathy baffles logic, Emmett assured himself, as surely as deathsmoke never dissipates. That Gabriel Kraft was a man-of-logic, Emmett did not doubt. That he himself was not, he rued.
The doors hissed shut and the airseals on the CleanBus closed with a whoosh and began to move. Emmett remained lost in thought, ignorant of the scrolling advertising screens where windows had once been. Mayor Dickie was right, he was thinking, you cannot trust human beings. They say one thing and do another. They believe, yet they betray. They hate the viruses, but they made them anyway.
Emmett was as sure as anything that Gabriel Kraft would have more to say and do about Emmett’s knowledge of the deception in the Embryo Centre. Emmett had confessed that he had read Gordon’s diary and, as he hoped, Gabriel Kraft had offered to buy his silence. Emmett Strachan’s every wish would have to be fulfilled. Emmett, as scared as he was, was counting on it.
FIVE
You have chosen me to carry on this great inheritance from the Father-of-the-Malls. I am charged…I have accepted…I bear this great burden. The tasks before us are formidable but we are ready for the challenges to come. ( change to upbeat now! ) I am delighted to say that our Exchange is booming! That’s what I said, booming! Last week, Toronto Nation signed a covenant with the Swedes to help repopulate their lands. In return, we are pledged one thousand credits per embryo, the highest price paid yet for Toronto Nation Embryos!—( wait for applause, your Worship! )—It is our duty to help repopulate our allies in Sweden who, need I remind you, bear no blame for any of the catastrophes which befell our world and, indeed, we should be forever grateful to them for reducing Norway, the infamous birthplace of Jeffrey Meilgaard, to that which it is today, a barren rubble. Yes, our duty is heavy, but no heavier than any we would all willingly bear for our beautiful children.
Honour the child! ( three repeats, then wait for silence ).
But I cannot do this…I cannot ensure a wonderful life in the Malls for you and your family without some measure of sacrifice on all your parts . Yes, we all must
Similar Books
