Distraction - Bruce Sterling [111]
“He sold out our country, didn’t he?” Oscar nodded. “That’s just too much to forgive.”
“Yup. Just like the President.”
“Now what? What’s the problem with Two Feathers?”
“Actually, the President’s not a bad guy in his own way. He’s done some good refugee work out in the West. It’s really different out there now; since the giant fires and relocations, they’ve got nomad posses taking over whole towns and counties.… But that doesn’t cut much ice with me. Two Feathers is a Dutch agent.”
Oscar smiled. “You lost me there. The President is a Dutch agent?”
“Yeah, the Dutch have been backing him for years. Dutch spooks are very big on disaffected ethnic groups. Anglos, Native Americans.… America’s a big country. It’s your basic divide-and-conquer hack.”
“Look, we’re not talking Geronimo here. The President is a billionaire timber baron who was Governor of Colorado.”
“We are talking Geronimo, Oscar. Take away America’s money, and you’ve got a country of tribes.”
Once the charges were dismissed against Norman-the-Intern, Oscar’s krewe held a nice going-away party for him. It was very well attended. The hotel was crowded with Collaboratory supporters, who professed heartfelt admiration for Norman and deeply appreciated the free drinks and food.
“This is such a beautiful hotel,” said Albert Gazzaniga. Greta’s majordomo had arrived in the company of Warren Titche and Cyril Morello—two of the Collaboratory’s permanently disaffected activists. Titche fought for perks and cafeteria fare like a radical wolverine, while Morello was the only man in the Human Resources Department who could be described as honest. Oscar was delighted to see the three of them spontaneously coalescing. It was a sure sign that trends were going his way.
Gazzaniga was clutching a hurricane glass with a little paper parasol. “Great little restaurant here, too. I’d eat here every day if I didn’t have to breathe all this filthy outside air.”
“It’s a shame about your allergy problems, Albert.”
“We’ve all got allergies in there. But I just had a good idea—why don’t you roof over a street between here and the dome?”
Oscar laughed. “Why settle for half measures? Let’s roof over the whole damn town.”
Gazzaniga squinted. “Are you serious? I can never tell when you’re serious.”
Norman tugged at Oscar’s sleeve. His face was scarlet and his eyes were wet with sentimental tears. “I’m leaving now, Oscar. I guess this is my last good-bye.”
“What?” Oscar said. He took Norman’s suit-jacketed elbow and steered him away from the crowd. “You have to stay after the party. We’ll play some poker.”
“So you can send me back to Boston with a nice cash present, and it won’t have to show on the books?”
Oscar stared at him. “Kid, you’re the first guy on my krewe who’s ever said a word about that sad little habit of mine. You’re a big boy now, okay? You need to learn to be tactful.”
“No I don’t,” said Norman, who was very drunk. “I can be as rude as I want, now that you’ve fired me.”
Oscar patted Norman’s back. “That was strictly for your own good. You pulled a major coup, so you’re all used up now. From now on, they’d sandbag you every time.”
“I just wanted to tell you, no hard feelings. I have no regrets about any of this. I really learned a lot about politics. Also, I got to punch out a professor, and I got away with it. Heck, that was worth it all by itself.”
“You’re a good kid, Norman. Good luck in engineering school. Try and take it a little easy with the X-ray laser gambit.”
“I’ve got a car waiting,” Norman said, shuffling from foot to foot. “My dad and mom will be real glad to see me.… It’s okay that I’m leaving. I hate to go, but I know it’s for the best. I just wanted to clear one last thing with you before I left. Because I never really leveled with you about the, uh … well, you know.”
“The ‘personal background problem,’ ” Oscar