Awakening, 2nd edition

by Kuili, Ray N.

  Winning over women had never been difficult for him. In fact, they always clung to him—to his confidence mixed with an unusual maturity for his age , to the youthful freshness of his proportional face, his slender figure, and his ability to be charming whenever he wanted to. But they were all girls—same age as him, same circle, same experience ; girls who hadn ’t seen much, who didn ’t mean much, whose only virtues were their cuteness and their age. He always knew for a fact that he would meet no serious resistance as soon as he decide d to get one of them. And now he wanted —and he was meeting no resistance.

  But this time everything was different. The woman standing in front of him was unquestionably more attractive than all those girls combined. She was also much cleverer than they typically were—otherwise how would she ever have end ed up in this place? She, unlike any of them, seemed for whatever reason absolutely inaccessible. And she was wildly seductive ; seductive in subtle and yet extremely powerful ways, sending cold shivering desire down his spine with her every word and gesture.

  Her mellow voice, which somehow sounded now more quiet than usual , was almost intimately soft. It was awakening thoughts and cravings that lay many long miles away from flipcharts and whiteboards, in the far-off land where the words ‘management ’ and ‘leadership ’ were nothing but dull meaningless sounds. Entirely different sounds inhabited that far -off lavish land and now they began rising their luring voices in his head. And , as weird as it might be, the fact that the words coming out of Joan ’s lips had nothing to do with this land of overwhelming seduction somehow only amplified her charms.

  “ . . . not that anyone would bother voting for me.”

  Alan moved his head to shake off the obsession. It flew away into the thick dusk that was ringing with passion, but didn ’t go too far off. Instead, it froze somewhere nearby in the warm air, ready to come back at any moment.

  “What did you just say?” he had to make an effort to pronounce the words clearly. “Did you say no one would vote for you? Why?”

  Joan shrugged.

  “Get real. I ’m good at what I do, but I ’m a woman among men who ’re used to boss ing others around. I ’m no match for Chris, or for you, or for Rob. I ’ll deliver my three speeches, just like everyone else, but I have no illusions about the outcome.”

  If she felt any disappointment about the situation, she didn ’t express it in any way. She seemed to have completely come to terms with her inevitable defeat.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, ” he said , feeling that in all honesty he wasn ’t referring to her leadership skills. “You ’re underestimating yourself.”

  “No, I’m not, ” she answered with a tender smile. “It ’s you who ’s overestimating me.”

  The obsession made a sharp leap towards him and hung warily in the air.

  Joan smiled again.

  “Take it easy. I ’ve got no problem with this. Really. Even if not a single soul votes for me, I wouldn ’t care. It ’s just a game , after all.”

  Alan thought that this time he had sensed a subtle false note in the way she said it, but he wasn ’t sure.

  “Why don’t we go back?” she asked shortly . “It ’s getting late. And it ’s all your fault—I didn ’t expect us to chat for so long. Let ’s go.”

  And she touched his hand.

  With a brief growl the obsession dashed back to him, dug its sharp fangs into the back side of his palm and , in an all-crushing wave , rushed throughout his entire body.

  “Let’s go, ” he said in a suddenly hoarse voice.

  Chris slowly wiped his face with a fresh snow-white towel. The air nicely chilled his freshly shaved skin. He inhaled slowly. It was a good day. Not perfect, but good. Good enough —that ’d be the most accurate way to describe it. Perhaps, it would have been possible to use the time even more wisely and to have gotten even more out of it, but by and large, this long day had gone well. Now they all know who the leader here is, so the main objective of today has been achieved. From now on , the most critical thing is keeping the momentum.

  He scrutinized his reflection. A good face. The face of a winner. A great asset that so many underestimate. If you have a face like this , you owe it to yourself to become somebody. Otherwise it ’s a shame.

  He looked into the mirror again. Yep, the face of a winner. Confident and charming in a manly sort of way. With these thick—though not too thick—eyebrows, arching under the high forehead, a straight, slightly wide nose, a firmly outlined, decisive mouth and a strong jaw. Equally attractive with romantic three-day stubble or neatly shave n , just like now. People follow a face like this, especially if it ’s backed by a resounding voice and a confident manner.

  Say all you want, but if you want people to trust you, looks matter. That ’s why elections look more and more like beauty pageants these days. No face, no place, baby !

  So if an owner of a face like this happens to be smart and longing for success, then all he needs is a bit of luck. No, forget success. Success is just bait for those who never look beyond the surface. The real name of the game is power. Everything else is secondary and comes with it. Whoever wrote the ‘P word ’ in that quiz was damn right. That ’s exactly what we ’re after here. Speaking of which , it ’d be good to know who wrote it. Really good. Not that it really matters though. He ’d simply articulated what was on everyone ’s mind.

  So what have we got here? We’ve got good cards to play. The ever -smiling fatty is not a competitor. Neither is Kevin with his horse-like face and an overwhelming desire to appear proper. The bodybuilder is smarter than he looks, and he ’s good at concealing his smarts, but he ’s still a lower -league player. After all, we ’re not electing the captain of a football team, so his muscle mass makes no real difference. As for the presence factor, he ’s just a bit taller than I am and , unlike me , hardly a smooth talker.

  Then we’ve got two broads. No real threat there. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we ’re all equal, blah, blah, blah, but nine men who ’ve been giving orders for years would never choose a chick to lead them. At least not these men, not these chicks, and not in this situation. Stella had a blast talking about Joan of Arc, but we ’re not in medieval France. Plus, there ’s no real Joan of Arc around, although Stella would likely disagree with this claim.

  Paul doesn’t care. The guy has no interest in winning —here or in his career. A typical geek who ’s made it to middle management in a typical geeky environment. Not a dork , though. Smart, sharp tongued, and under certain circumstances can cause some serious damage, so it ’s worth keeping an eye on him. But not more than that.

  Brandon . . . this one will require some effort. Yet, there ’s nothing unmanageable about him. Taking care of Mr. Mustache won ’t be harder than taking care of any other worthy opponent in the past.

  Alan the Youngster is not a threat. He’s a born speaker, he ’s very bright and experienced for his age, he knows how to talk to a woman, and not only to a woman, but his age is his liability. Sorry, boy. Grow up first then come back.

  Next, we have Rob. Now this is a challenge. You can see it at the first glance. You take a second glance and you see it even better. He was the first one to cut to the chase. “It doesn ’t matter what we discuss ; the only thing that matters is how we vote . . .” Clever. Experienced. ‘Seen it, done it ’ kind of a man. Dangerous. In fact, very dangerous.

  And then we’ve got Michael. Michael, the Sphinx. You can never guess what ’s on his mind, what he ’s going to say next. He speaks too little. Little, but always to the point. Straight to the point. Never not to the point. Too much to the point . . . Funny, but it ’s the same rarity of his comments that make them so striking, will play against him. A leader must be visible. An invisible puppet master is a commodity. An invisible leader is an oxymoron. He would be very tough to play against in the real world. But rules are different here and his tendency to stay silent most of the time will help everyone, except himself.

  Bottom line, there’re two strong oppone
nts, two second -league contenders and everyone else. The game plan thus becomes clear. You ’ve got to have six votes in order to win. This is the worst -case scenario. In the best case , two votes would suffice, but let ’s play it safe. The strong players would vote anyway for the weak ones to lower the chances of the other strong contenders. At least this is an obvious move. Some sidekicks may use it , too, by the way. Especially because they don ’t see themselves as sidekicks. But then there are those who , for a variety of reasons , will cast honest votes. They are the voters to go after. This is the electorate, so to speak, the electorate to fight for. How do you do this? How do you brainwash these minds so they vote for you and for you only? Easy. All the necessary tricks were invented ages ago.

  First of all, you can’t rest on your laurels yet. The laurels are too shaky anyway at this point. But if there ’s any doubt in anyone ’s mind it should be gone by tomorrow. Twenty -four hours from now everybody must understand that , had the situation been not so artificial, only one man here would ’ve been capable of truly leading the rest. Leading, as Clark put it, anywhere. Ah, Mr. Clark . . . What a sly fox! Every single thing he had said so far became , in some shape or form , an important factor. Even his abstract remarks don ’t seem so abstract anymore. It comes as a little surprise though. It was clear that nothing here was random. So , anyway, this is what comes first. The electorate.

  Second, it’s about time to start neutralizing competition. The truth is, there ’s more than one man here who can lead others. Somewhere or even anywhere. And making the voters believe that you ’re the right man for the job is as important as planting into their minds the idea that no one else is capable of doing it. Elections 101. Summers knew perfectly well where he was sending him to. It ’s quite possible that the old fox himself had been sent here some years ago. He of all people would not tolerate a loser. He would never bet on a man who couldn ’t win in such a simple game.

  Chris left the bathroom, threw off the towel and began to get dressed . The beige shirt and khakis will do a better job tomorrow. Too semi-formal. Tonight calls for jeans and this shirt. Better yet, this one. He ’s down to earth our Chris, right, guys? He ’s one of us, you can always talk to him. He ’ll listen to you. You can have a beer with him . . . Good grief, what a cliché. This elections analogy really gets inside your head. Speaking of beer talk and becoming popular, yesterday Rob grabbed all the initiative with his eyewitness Discovery Channel -type stories and not-so-beaten jokes. And you ’ve got to give it to him ; he did a perfect job at it. He never had to offer to tell another story —people kept asking for more themselves. That was some artful storytelling. Can ’t let it happen again.

  All right, it’s time to go. Most of them must be there already. Although here ’s a couple of latecomers strolling along. A man and a woman in the late dusk . . . How romantic. So, who a re they?

  He turned off the light and walked to the window. Late dusk indeed . . . Well, there ’s only one woman here with curves like th o se. Joan. The tasty morsel. Now, who ’s the lucky fellow? He ’s rather tall, so it could be either Kevin or Paul or . . . c ould it be the youngster? Get out of here! Who would ’ve thought?

  Unexpected envy stirred somewhere in his chest.

  She’s got this pretty ring on her ring finger. A decent -size d diamond. So much for the ring. Ah, crap. The ring—what does it have to do with anything? Two leaders are taking a walk and discussing leadership matters. But why with him? I mean, with him ? With Alan the Youngster, Alan the Kiddo, Alan the Kindergartener?

  The two figures unhurriedly rounded a tree and disappeared round the corner. Chris stepped away from the window. Fine, you two lovebirds, sing your songs, talk your leadership matters. Some of us have more important things to do . . . Although, come to think of it, not so fast, my dear Alan. Not so fast! What do you think you ’re doing? Taking a walk with a sexy woman? Wrong, kiddo. Wrong. You ’re taking a walk with a vote. With my vote. It ’s my kill, kid. And I ’ll make sure it stays mine.

  Who would’ve thought?

  “Damn it!” Brandon looked with frustration at the ball slowly rolling away from a pocket. “Your turn, Rob.”

  Robert walked around the pool table.

  “Sidespins are tricky. They don ’t always work.”

  “True,” Brandon sighed . “But I ’m willing to bet they don ’t always end up so pathetically either.”

  A slick red ball had finished its unhurried journey and now lay motionless a foot away from the desired target that it had missed by an inch a few moments ago. Brandon was looking at it drearily. The black ball—the only other ball left on the table—lay precisely on the invisible line connecting the red ball and the pocket. Even someone who had never played pool before could pocket this one easily. The short game was nearing an inglorious end. Robert glanced at the green cloth once more and started around the table again.

  “What are you doing?” Ross asked perplexedly, watching Robert lean over the table. “That’s a sure shot over there.”

  “A sure shot it is, ” Robert agreed , taking aim. “Too sure for my taste.”

  Alex shook his head in doubt.

  “That’s one too many round trips.”

  “Could be. But it ’s no fun otherwise.”

  The cue struck the ball with a dry sound. The black dot rushed across the table, bounced from the rail, hit the red dot and, sending , it away from the patiently waiting pocket, stopped at once. The red ball flew away frantically, passed the middle pocket and, having slowed down towards the end of its journey, rolled smoothly into the corner pocket.

  “Wow!” it was easy to hear the authentic astonishment in Ross ’s voice.

  Brandon walked over to Robert.

  “It’s not a shame to lose like this, ” he said with feeling, shaking his hand.

  Robert smiled.

  “It’s never a shame. Sometimes it can hurt, but that ’s not the case here.”

  “How about another one?” Alex asked. “I haven ’t played a single game yet.”

  Brandon shook his head.

  “I’m out. That was enough for me. At least for tonight.”

  Alex turned to Robert with a silent question.

  “Why not?” Robert said. “Anyone else?”

  “I’ll watch, ” said Michael. “I ’ve played enough already.”

  “Ditto,” Paul fidgeted in his armchair. “It ’s better to watch Rob ’s game than to be a part of it.”

  “As for me, I ’ve just played, ” Ross said. “So the table is all yours. See you tomorrow, Kevin.”

  Robert looked at Alex.

  “What are we playing?”

  “Nine-ball?” Alex proposed, taking a cue from the rack “Works for me, ” Robert took several balls away.

  “Let’s lag .”

  “Don’t bother. I ’d rather keep it simple. Just break it.”

  Alex examined the cue attentively.

  “So, what’s the game?”

  “We’re not playing for money here, ” Robert replied benevolently.

  Alex gave him a surprised look.

  “Why?”

  “’Cause we ’re just playing for fun. If you want a real game , wait till tomorrow morning.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “Winning, for example.”

  “Winning for the sake of winning?”

  “Why not? Do you see any problem with that?”

  “All right,” Alex smiled subtly. “Let ’s play kids’ pool.”

  “We don ’t have to, ” Robert replied , fully preserving his benevolent tone. “If you want to play for something real, we ’ll play for something real.”

  Brandon looked at them with some concern.

  “Rob, what exactly are you doing? We agreed from the very beginning to keep money out of it, didn’t we? Alex has an excuse ; he wasn ’t there. But you were.”

  “It’s o kay . We ’re not going to play for money, ” Robert answered, looking point-blank at Alex. “We ’l
l play for a speech.”

  “For what ?”

  “For a speech. Whoever loses doesn ’t present tomorrow.”

  Alex pursed his lips. Robert waited, smiling affably.

  “Deal,” Alex said finally.

  “Are you kidding?” Ross seemed dumbfounded. “Are you both out of your minds? You want to lower your chances at winning for this ?” He gestured at the pool table.

  “What am I risking?” Alex asked philosophically, arranging the balls. “Even if I ’m out of luck here, I ’ve got two more days anyway. Not the end of the world.”

  “If there’s anybody risking anything , that ’d be Robert, ” Michael said. “You ’ve seen him play. He hasn ’t seen your game.”

  Alex gazed at him over his massive shoulder.

  “It’s not like I dragged it out of him. Rob, have you changed your mind?”

  “Break it,” Robert responded.

  Ross looked around in the hope of finding some support.

  “We’ve got to stop it, guys. This isn ’t high school. The deal was everyone gets three presentations. We have to stick to our own decisions. If Chris were here, he ’d tell you how wrong it is to break our own rules!”

  “First,” Michael said, tapping a ball like a metronome against the arm of his chair , “Chris is too busy downstairs talking at the bar, so he won ’t be here anytime soon. Second, you think too highly of his role. And third, I don ’t see how this game breaks our rules. Both Alex and Rob seem to see it this way too. Does anyone else think this is going to be a violation?”

  Brandon shrugged.

  “Hardly a violation. Stupid, maybe.”

  “It’s all good, ” Paul said merrily. “Ross, just take it easy, man. Sit down, relax, have a beer, watch some good pool. Besides, ” he winked , “the less they present , the more chances we get.”

  Ross shook his head hopelessly.

  “Whatever. If no one here is interested in common sense, I rest my case.”

  Paul followed his own advice and opened another bottle of beer.

  “Smart. I knew this argument would work.”