Anthony, Piers - Tyrant 4 - Executive

by Anthony, Piers

  I gave Ebony her turn with me. I find myself being slightly defensive here but can only repeat that my way with women is the way that seems correct to me. Ebony was part of my staff-family, and she deserved her share. That does not mean that I loved her or necessarily found her physically attractive. But I had known her many years and respected her as a person. She had never made any pretense at being beautiful or brilliant; she was good at running errands and absolutely conscientious in that. When any of us gave her a thing to do, we had no further concern; it would be done properly and on schedule. She had been especially useful to Shelia, who could not get around freely in her wheelchair. Of course, I paid all my staff members a decent wage—well, Spirit did; I don't even know what the figure was but knew it was fair. They served me with a devotion that deserved a greater recompense, and now was the time of payment.

  Thus it was that I found myself in bed with Ebony, though I confess I would have preferred Coral. I admit that this period following the Navy and my marriage left me somewhat out of sorts sexually. Some prefer to believe that folk in their fifties have little remaining interest in sexual expression. This is not the case in my experience. My interest remained as strong as ever, though my performance had slowed somewhat. Thus an act that might have been completed in two minutes when I was twenty was more comfortable in half an hour at fifty, not because my body had slowed to that degree but because my urgency had. The young tend not to understand about timing and savoring.

  Ebony introduced me to an oral technique she called "Around the Planet." She began at my navel and proceeded in a kind of tightening spiral, her tongue covering every part of me. I had not imagined how stimulating this could be when properly performed. She moved me around as suited her, closing in on my center of gravity, and the effect became so strong that I felt compelled to warn her: "Pilot, that ship is about to take off without you!"

  "Ships don't make single flights," she said, and proceeded unabated.

  Maybe not, but this one fired its drive very soon thereafter, unattended. She proceeded as if it hadn't happened, and in an amazingly brief interval, the drive was ready to fire again. She continued to use her tongue and her mouth, and presently the urgency overcame me a second time, this time attended by her lips.

  I thought it was over, but I was mistaken. Still she continued, the detumescence that should have occurred was halted, and the ship was fueled for a third takeoff. When she deemed the occasion appropriate, she mounted me in the normal manner and moved in such a way that I did indeed come to a final culmination. She had not had pleasure in her own body before, but now she joined me in a pulsing climax.

  "Did Q match that?" she inquired as we subsided.

  "Once," I said. Indeed, I was not sure I had ever before had a triple conclusion. I had not known that men were capable of multiple performances, especially at this age, but it seems that they are, when suitably managed.

  She relaxed, satisfied. She had evidently proved her point.

  Thereafter I felt no disappointment when it was Ebony's turn; she had her own expertise. And for a year or so I had, if it is fair to phrase it that way, three mistresses, who scheduled me somewhat in the manner that the multiple wives of ancient sultans had, seeing that I had no sexual frustrations. Perhaps one would look askance that I include Shelia in this number, but though she could not move her legs, she was worthy in other respects, and I always felt comfortable with her. I should clarify that our time together at night was not always physically sexual; the companionship of these three women was just as important to me.

  Yet, gradually, a dissatisfaction came upon me. That may seem ungracious in the extreme, and certainly I did not voice it to the three, but in retrospect I must say it was so. I think it was the fact that these were working personnel. They had been chosen for reasons other than sexual, and while I deeply respected them all, I did not love them. They were too close; I knew them too well. They were not my mistresses; they were the members of my personal staff, who served me to the best of their ability in all things. Their sexual accommodation had to be a secondary thing, temporary, until I found a woman who was not a respected associate. I did not view it that way at the time; I view it that way now, in my effort to understand the subsequent events. I believe that I desired some new romance, with some less knowledgeable woman, so that I could take the initiative and feel more like a man than a pampered creature.

  I called my first formal cabinet meeting, on Spirit's advice. It was in the hallowed Oval Office, and the media were excluded, with one exception.

  "As Tyrant, I have no need of conventional organization," I informed the group. "This may be the only cabinet meeting held. But I felt I should introduce you formally to each other, so that there is no confusion about the offices you hold or the rationale for them. All of you will report directly to me, or, in my absence or unavailability, to my sister Spirit, or to Shelia, who will see that I am kept current." I put my hand on Shelia's shoulder, for her wheelchair was beside me. "She has my complete confidence, and she will respect yours; if she tells you something, you may rely on it. If it sometimes seems that she is running the planet, that is probably the case." I smiled, and the others smiled with me, but we all knew there was a fair amount of truth in the statement. If Shelia made a commitment in my name, and it turned out to be in error, I would do my best to honor it, anyway, to avoid mutual embarrassment.

  I turned to the man on my right. "Senator Stonebridge is in charge of economics," I said. "He will take what measures are necessary to balance the planetary budget and thereafter to reduce or eliminate the planetary debt. This has not been accomplished in centuries, but it is my mandate and I mean to honor it. The United States of North Jupiter at this point is on the verge of becoming a net debtor nation; we shall restore it to creditor status."

  I turned next to Gerald Phist, seated next right. "Admiral Phist is in charge of industry. This includes farming, food procurement, and the preservation of the environment, which has, at times in the past, been degraded by the excesses of industry. He will restore Jupiter to a position of leadership in technology and production and efficiency, and will eliminate such waste and fraud as has existed in the past." I spoke as though this would be easy to do, but we all knew that Phist's job would be as difficult as Stonebridge's.

  Roulette, Phist's wife, was next. "Rue Phist is not a citizen of Jupiter," I said. "As Tyrant, I have abolished that requirement for service. She is in charge of crime, and she will eliminate it as a factor in Jupiter's economy. This includes all types, violent and monetary and sexual." Roulette nodded and smiled and leaned forward, and Stonebridge's eyes nearly popped as her deep cleavage flexed. I knew he would be meeting with her individually, as economics and crime interacted; he would discover that she had a competent head above that competent bosom. I had selected mostly from my own closest circle, because I understood these people best, but I had not ignored competence.

  Spirit was next. "My younger sister, Spirit Hubris," I said, "is in charge of interplanetary relations and implementation of policy. She is my second in command and will govern in my absence. This has been so throughout our relationship." And I suffered a flash memory of Spirit as a child, with her finger whip, using it in my defense. She no longer had the whip, but nothing had changed between us. At forty-seven she remained a fine figure of a woman too.

  Ebony was next, looking somewhat out of sorts in this company. "Ebony did not ask for the post of population," I said. "I thrust it on her. She will find means to bring our burgeoning population under control, so that it will not devastate us. She will consult with the others to see that such measures as she implements will not interfere with their projects."

  "Tyrant, if I may..." Stonebridge said cautiously. I nodded and he continued: "A significant portion of our population problem originates beyond the territorial boundaries of North Jupiter. I doubt that the domestic problem can be solved without reference to the external problem. Immigration—"

  "Illegal aliens
cost us twenty-five billion dollars a year," Ebony said. "But if we try to wall them out—"

  "Jupiter industry would suffer," Phist said.

  "So we must solve the international and interplanetary problem first," Roulette said. "Illegal aliens are my concern too. We shall have to have an early meeting, Senator—those of us whose concerns overlap, as in this case." She flexed her cleavage at him again.

  "By all means," Stonebridge agreed immediately, as any man would.

  I was privately pleased. Ebony was no intellectual giant and made no such pretension, but she did do her homework. She had, by this interchange, achieved a measure of acceptance in this group, in Stonebridge's eyes and in her own. They would get the job done.

  Next was Faith. "My older sister, Faith Hubris," I said. "She is in charge of poverty. She will abolish it—again, consulting with others of you to be sure that her programs do not conflict with your own." I glanced around the group. "I expect there to be constant interaction among you. When you come to me with a program, be sure you have already cleared it with whoever overlaps. If you cannot agree on policy, then I will arbitrate. Shelia will coordinate any required meetings."

  I came to Hopie. "My daughter is in charge of education. She will arrange for it to become competent and relevant. Whether this includes job training or retraining you will work out among those who overlap. I suspect that means most of you."

  Then Mondy: "Admiral Mondy is in charge of intelligence. He will probably not be interacting often with the rest of you, but Shelia will show him all of your reports, and he will inform you of what he deems relevant to your interests."

  I completed the circle with Thorley. "As you know, I agreed never to infringe on freedom of the press," I said. "Though Thorley's political philosophy differs from mine, and he opposes the Tyrancy on principle, he is enough of a realist to accept the situation, and I do not keep secrets from him." I paused, remembering how the man had stepped into a laser beam intended for Megan and won my lasting gratitude—and hers. I might differ from Thorley on every other matter, but I respected his courage, integrity, intelligence, and dedication to principle, as he respected mine. I was about to surprise him.

  "Sir, I know you want no part of this administration," I told him directly. "You came here in your capacity as a commentator, and you are free to publish what you will. This is to be an open administration in every matter other than immediate planetary security or private scandal, and of these you will also be advised. I believe you now know the actual nature of the Jupiter invasion of Ganymede." He nodded, with that wry quirk of a smile. "I am now asking you to participate in this administration, in a capacity I doubt you can refuse."

  "I do refuse!" Thorley said, startled. "I do not care to lend any portion of my reputation to the Tyrancy."

  "The position of censor," I said.

  Thorley actually spluttered, and there was a ripple of laughter around the circle. "The only censorship I would approve is no censorship!" he exclaimed. "I would consider any such institution a clear and present breach of—"

  He paused, for I was nodding affirmatively. He smiled ruefully. "You wish me to enforce the absence of censorship."

  "I can think of no one better qualified for that post," I agreed. "It is necessary that the person in charge have the discretion to distinguish between legitimate privacy of individual interests and the right of the public to be informed about the nature of its government. The integrity to abuse neither."

  "And if I should decline, I would be by implication condoning what I abhor."

  "You know that even the best intentions can be corrupted by time and circumstance," I said. "Today I support total freedom of the media, but how will it be after I have wrestled with error and inadequacy? It is better to have a censor who is not otherwise committed to the policies of the Tyrancy."

  Thorley raised his hands. "Sir, you have mouse-trapped me. I am left with no choice."

  "That is the nature of tyranny," Spirit said, smiling. But she knew, as I did, and as Thorley did, that this appointment signaled more emphatically than any other my intent to honor the commitments that had brought me to the Tyrancy. I did not intend to be corrupted by power.

  I was dangerously naïve, of course.

  We brought in linguistic experts, folk who practiced many languages, and explored Amber's potential. She was indeed not limited to Spanish, English, and French. She knew Russian, Arabic, German, more than one dialect of Chinese, and sundry others, though she spoke in none but Spanish.

  The specialists explained it to me in terms I could understand. Amber had not been mem-washed or otherwise abused. She was a member of the class sometimes called idiot savants. Her brain was in effect miswired. The material was there but could not be properly applied to the ordinary concerns of normal folk. Her intelligence, in Spanish, was low-normal; in other languages, she was technically a moron. But she could remember a certain amount of what she heard.

  Khukov's specialists had evidently found a way to utilize her severely compartmentalized brain. They had programmed each segment to a different language. Had they all been programmed in Spanish, Amber would have understood Spanish in any mode but have spoken it only in one. In short, she would have had no advantage, because her brain operated only, as it were, in parallel, not in series. But this way, she had an enormous array of languages to draw on, without sacrificing the one complete one. She was indeed like a computer—one with a number of memory banks, each bank set up in a specific language, which could be hooked in at will. But only Spanish could print.

  One might wonder of what use such a child might be to a political tyrant. But it did not take me long to fathom that. I did not know all the languages of the System, but it seemed that Amber did. My secret knowledge of Russian had on occasion served me well, when Saturnians spoke among themselves in my presence, supposing their consultation to be private. With Amber I could spy similarly on any other language. All that I needed to do was bring her with me, letting it be known that she had been given into my care, was of substandard intellect, and would not cause any mischief. Indeed it was so—up to a point.

  When the iron magnates of Mars dickered with me on prices and policies, Amber was there. She sat in her chair, staring at her hands, her fingers twitching erratically. What the magnates did not realize was that the solitary child, tuned in to Arabic, had been instructed to make certain simple gestures if certain things were said. Amber did not understand the significance of those things, but she dutifully made the gestures with her fingers, and I noted these. It was a simplistic task, but, coupled with my own talent in judging people, it gave me invaluable information. I became aware of the limits to which the magnates were prepared to go, muttered among themselves, and that greatly facilitated my bargaining.

  The same was true when I dealt with executives from the various nations of Uranus, who spoke French, German, Italian, or other tongues. I became a far more prescient negotiator than those others took me for. After the sessions I would return Amber to Spanish and question her in detail, gathering yet more information. She was normal, in memory; I had to catch her early, or she would forget most of the detail in a few days. That was all right; in a few days the information became passé.

  Somewhere along about here—I regret I can no longer keep the chronology straight, but it really doesn't matter—I received an interesting message. It was in the form of a feelie chip. Shelia gave it to me with a wry expression. "I think you had better read this one yourself, sir."

  "You can't give me a digest?" I asked, mildly perplexed.

  "The effect would be diminished."

  "I don't need effects!" I said, mildly exasperated. "I need efficient information. That's why I keep you."

  "It's from an admirer," she clarified. "Female."

  Oh. My position did lead to some communications of this kind. Men are mostly attracted to physical beauty, women to power. As Tyrant I attracted more than my share of offers. In the earliest days some voluptuous women would
strip part or all of their clothing as I passed, showing their wares much as shopkeepers might. And you know, I did find it appealing, not merely for the elegance of the flesh but also for the fact that it was being offered to me, a physical nonentity. Vanity may be as much a male trait as a female one, and flattery has power even over those who know better. Sometimes I dreamed about those proffered bodies that I had to pass up.

  Shelia filtered most of them out, not through any jealousy but because a power-seeking woman really has little to offer me but mischief. Also, she knew my bias for known elements; I prefer to know a woman well before I get intimate with her, and it was difficult to know any ordinary woman when I could not go out without my security guards. Finally there was my marriage: it existed in name, no longer in substance, but for Megan's sake I did not want to sully that name openly. As far as the public knew, I had become celibate. (I use that term in its popular sense, rather than in its dictionary sense. In centuries dictionaries have not caught up to the fact that celibacy refers to a person's state of sexual inactivity, rather than to his state of unmarriage.) All my women protected me in that respect. There were surely suspicions and insinuations about our night life; in fact, some uncomfortably accurate conjectures were published (and some I rather wish had occurred), but Coral, Shelia, and Ebony invariably turned blank stares on questioners, as if soiled by the very notion. Women tend to be better at such deception than are men.