Boss Citadel sat pensively as
Sammy recounted the minutes of the meeting. After each meeting the two usually
had an update between themselves of the matters with the chance to touch on
more delicate and confidential topics. Not all present at the meeting should be
privy to the full disclosure at times and it helped to have this freedom to flesh
out the issues. Of course these one on one meetings were generally a case of
Sammy talks and Boss listens which Boss often found quite grating in a purely
primal sense. He hated the sense of being talked down to like a teacher
lecturing his pupil but was generally helpless to improve his position as Sammy
was more informed and a better talker.
But on this occasion it was more
than just a pissing contest that was chipping away at his patience. A thought
had come to him recently while watching a Walter Wallace special. Walter had
been asked how he handles the weight of responsibility in helping so many
people. He replied by mentioning that he had recently considered the idea of
‘what if he was no longer the happiest man in the world?’ – He still had things
in life that he found important and if he knew someone might be able to help
him achieve them then he could only hope that they might care to do so, and the
only way he could justify his position was to do his best while he could.
Boss was struck by the notion; it
was a question born out of the self but instead of broadcasting it to the world
for help, it was simply reflected back inward as its own answer. Boss had spent
the night pensive and unnaturally selfless. He had dinner with Ms Citadel and talked
to her. Instead of finding Sally the cleaner or some other hooker to give him a
blowjob that night he had let his wife do it. He went to sleep with a clear and
calm mind, intent on changing his ways tomorrow. The next day however was the
shit storm with Chips and the motivation was directed to business and the
positivity was soon evaporated into stress and finally the bitter comfort of
resignation.
But the feeling managed to
resurface that very morning after the meeting. He considered the manner in
which he looked down upon the attendees as uninformed rabble; they would listen
to him but he would not listen to them. Was he not just like the rest of them
when Sammy came to his office or suite and discussed the minutes? What did
Sammy know on his pedestal of condescension? What was he planning?
“The ‘Cit Soldiers’,” Sammy
continued, a hint of contempt in his voice as he said the title, “Chips has
been effectively covered up and is no longer traceable to Citadel. We’re still
not clear on what exactly led to the breach of protocol apart from the unproven
theory of human retention. Problem there is it suggests it is not a lone case.
His partner Whisker has been brought in for analysis and maybe-”
“Maybe Walter had an effect on
them.” Boss interjected.
Sammy almost looked thrown,
“Sorry?”
“I said maybe Walter is having the
effect on the soldiers.”
“It’s possible.” Sammy replied.
“It would make sense wouldn’t it?”
Boss continued, annoyed by Sammy’s neutralising responses. “Can we test for
that on the other one, Whisker? Maybe get that Doctor Lady back in to inspect.”
“It wouldn’t- Dr Blues no longer
wishes to liaise with us. She has discontinued her participation in the Walter
specials and has showed little interest in our science department.”
“Well we could surely find
something interesting for her,” Boss said. He couldn’t understand why Sammy had
to be such a cunt all the time. The condescension continued to click a spark
next to Boss’ highly flammable temper. He was on the point of ordering him to
do it but backed out instinctively at the last breath, “Look into it,” he
concluded weakly.
“Right. Moving on, Walter’s
popularity has reportedly hit lows, nothing drastic. Interest levels have still
continued to rise almost to the levels reached when he was first unveiled.”
Boss was now turning away, his
face flaring slightly. He knew Sammy could tell but Sammy showed no signs of
knowing – this only made it worse. “What do you do when you go home, Sammy?”
Boss asked aggressively, cutting off his associate mid sentence.
“Pardon?” Sammy replied politely,
stalling.
But Boss wasn’t going to give him
the time, he was figuring out Sammy’s little game of cock and ass. “Does the
money really excite you?”
Sammy looked Boss in the eye and
gave a cheeky smile, as if they were friends, “A man’s motivations should
remain his own, lest somebody steal them away from him.”
“Fuck you. What pussy have you
bought? What boat have you sunk?” Boss said, his voice rising forcefully.
“Sammy remained passive, “Money is
not my currency, you know that.”
“Well why are you here? Why do
what you do like you’re the only fuckwit who can do it? You want power? You
want to be me?
A flash of emotion passed through
Sammy’s face. Boss narrowed his eyes in glee.
“I doubt there are many who would
wish themselves such a fate. Your successes have fuelled your vices and you
garner more pity then you should command in your status. I don’t envy you or
your name because I know you so well. You on the other hand must envy
something, otherwise you wouldn’t ask your questions, searching for more. Do
you watch Walter Wallace hoping like a billion others for a signpost to contentment?
Do you think I do? Are you so arrogant to demand his status? So stupid to think
anyone who knew better would demand yours? Many would and would be equally vain,
equally self entitled and equally envious.
Boss leapt from his seat and had
Sammy by the collar, driving his small frame into the wall behind him. He
squared him up and punched him in the jaw. He cocked back and swung again but
Sammy had ducked in time and his fist wedged into the poorly re-enforced wall
space. Sammy pushed Boss with surprising strength and he was turned around,
pivoting at his caught right fist and extending his elbow painfully. Sammy
pulled Boss down by his own collar and headbutted him in the nose. Boss felt it
pop and dropped to his knee clasping at his elbow.
“Fuck!” he said, tasting the blood
in the back of his mouth.
Sammy was standing a few feet
away, clutching at his jaw like a prize fighter shaking off a point. “My
motivations are my own. My duty keeps me content in this fucked up world. You
can have your money and power and pin Walter to his fame, but I will keep doing
what I do well. Now if you will excuse me I think we should continue this
meeting at a later date.”
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