Distraction - Bruce Sterling [150]
Huey barked with astonished laughter. “What? Who do you take me for, Mao Zedong? I don’t need any brainwashed robots! I need smart people, all the smart people I can get! You just don’t understand!”
“So what am I missing, exactly?”
“You’re missing me, boy, me! I love my state! I love my people! Sure, you despise Louisiana, Mr. Harvard Business Boy—it’s corrupt, it’s too hot, it’s half under water, it’s dirt poor, it’s poisoned with years of pesticides and pollution, it’s all outta gas and oil for you Yankees to burn in the winter. Half its people speak the wrong goddamn language, but goddamn you, people are still real here! My people got soul, they’ve got spirit, they’re authentic real-live people! We’re not like the rest of the USA, where people are too sick and shocked and tired and spied-on even to fight for a decent future.”
Huey coughed loudly and resumed bellowing into the phone. “They call me a ‘rogue Governor’—well, what else can I be? All them ’emergency committees’—they’re totally illegal, oppressive, and unconstitutional! Look at this new President! He’s a trigger-happy killer—and that’s the very best man you got! That man wants me driven out of my own statehouse—hell, the President would like to kill me! I’m under constant threats to my life now! I watch the skies every minute so’s I don’t get fried like a fritter by goddamn X-ray lasers! And you—you think that I wanna lobotomize Nobel Prize winners! Are you as nuts as your boss? My God Almighty, why would I do that? Where is that supposed to get me?”
“Governor, if you’d told me these things earlier, I think we could have come to an understanding.”
“Why the hell am I supposed to tell you a damn thing? You don’t rank! You don’t count! Am I supposed to drop my pants to every pipsqueak Senate staffer in America? You are a political nightmare, kid—a player with no history and no power base, who comes totally out of left field! If it weren’t for you, everything would have been perfect! The air base would have gone broke. The science lab would have gone broke. All the people would have left nice and peaceable. I woulda picked ’em all up for a song.”
Kevin arrived in the laboratory. He was wearing an ill-fitting cop’s uniform, and he looked as if his feet ached badly. “Just a moment, Governor,” Oscar said. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Kevin, how’d you find me in here?”
“There are location trackers in those phones.”
Oscar throttled the phone with his fist. “You never told me that.”
“You didn’t need to know.” Kevin frowned. “Oscar, pay attention, man. We have to go to the media center, right away. The President of the United States is on the line.”
“Oh.” Oscar removed his hand from the phone’s mouthpiece. “Excuse me, Governor. I can’t continue our discussion now—I have to field a call from the President.”
“Now?” Huey yelled. “Doesn’t anybody sleep anymore?”
“Good-bye, Governor. I appreciate your call.”
“Wait! Wait. Before you do something stupid, I want you to know that you can still come and talk to me. Before everything gets out of hand … next time, let’s talk it out first.”
“It’s good to know that we have that option, Your Excellency.”
“Kid, listen! One last thing! As Governor of Louisiana, I strongly favor genetic industries. I got no problem at all with your personal background problem!”
Oscar hung up. His nerves were buzzing like a shattered electrical transformer. His eyes burned and the bare walls seemed to pitch. He threw an arm over Kevin’s shoulder. “How are your feet, Kevin?”
“You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m really dizzy.” He snorted. His heart was pounding.
“Must be allergies,