Queen of Denial

by Selina Rosen

  She turned to walk in, and that's when the shot rang out. She immediately hit the ground and something landed on top of her. There was a pain in her right arm.

  "Up there on the roof," Van Gar screamed, at which point she realized that it was he who had landed on top of her.

  The guards opened fire for what seemed like ten minutes.

  "Hey, I think that forty-sixth hit killed him," Van Gar announced dryly.

  They quickly hustled the Queen inside and the doors were closed. They sat Drew in her chair. She looked at Van, and he smiled.

  "It's not bad."

  "Well, it's not good," Drew held her arm. "Thanks, Van."

  Margot ran in with the doctor.

  "You know, we would save Margot about a hundred miles a day if we would just put in an intercom system."

  The doctor pulled her hand away and she winced.

  "Be gentle with me, it's my first time."

  "Ah, she says that to all the guys," Van Gar said lightly.

  Stasha looked at him. She saw his trembling hands and the sweat on his forehead. He was putting on an act. He didn't want anyone to know how scared he'd been or still was. She had seen him launch himself at the door even before the shot rang out. Somehow, he had felt that Drew was in danger, and had acted accordingly. And she knew in that instant that Van Gar loved her sister, loved her more than Zarco ever had or ever could. He had flung himself at her without fear of personal injury. All he cared about was Drew. If Van Gar had been King, the country could have gone to hell in a hand basket while he went after his Queen. Stasha knew now why Drewcila would never forgive Zarco, and she understood her sister a little bit better. She looked at the blood the doctor was wiping up, and with the realization that it wasn't bad at all something else hit her.

  "Drew, someone tried to kill you."

  "Duh, ya think so?" Drew looked dumbfounded, then screamed at her sister. "What was your first clue, the hole in my arm?"

  "My Queen," one of the guards ran in and knelt at her feet. "They have identified the body of the sniper."

  "Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?" Drew said sharply.

  The guard seemed reluctant. "It was Lord Greyston."

  "Lord Greyston," Stasha gasped, "but he was one of Zarco's oldest and dearest friends!"

  "Maybe that's the point," Facto said. "It's obvious that Drew has no intention of running the country the way the King did, nor does she seem to be in any hurry to locate him and have him returned to power. For the obvious reason that she is getting a charge out of running things. To someone like Lord Greyston, in fact to anyone with a Royal title, it's going to seem that your actions are . . . well, traitorous to your class."

  "Charge out of it?" Drew said with raised eyebrows.

  "A term I've hear you use many times," Facto said defensively.

  Drew nodded.

  "I wouldn't suggest a stroll outside, or on the balcony until we can be sure that Lord Greyston acted alone."

  Drew nodded again, then looked at Facto and smiled. "I thought I told you to get lost."

  "I wasn't quite through the door when the shots rang out. I thought I'd better stay close."

  "Is that loyalty I hear in your voice, Fatso?" Drew asked.

  "Not at all. If something had happened to you, I would be in charge." He bowed low and departed.

  Drew laughed after him.

  The doctor had finished dressing her wound. "I put J-16 on it. It should be healed by nightfall."

  "Thank you very much."

  The doctor started to go.

  "Wait! Hold on there a minute, doctor. What do you think about the health care problem?"

  "Drew," Van protested, "someone just tried to kill you."

  "You're acting like it's the first time that ever happened," Drew laughed.

  "Margot, get me a cigar and a beer."

  "So, Doc. Let me hear it. What do you think can be done about the health care problem?"

  Van Gar threw up his hands. He guessed he'd have to check this thing out himself. He looked around for Fitz, but he was nowhere to be found. Obviously, he had followed orders and left. Van Gar left the office and started looking for Fitz. He found him some ten minutes later talking to one of the palace guards.

  He looked at Van Gar and nodded. "And remember, Varge, double security at the doors and gates." The guard nodded and went off. "I heard about the attempt on the Queen's life, and was just fortifying the palace."

  Van Gar nodded.

  "Do they know who the would-be assassin was yet?"

  "Lord Grey . . . something."

  "Greyston?"

  "Yep, that was it."

  Fitz drew in a deep breath and shook his head. "I guess the lack of protocol was just more that he could stand." Fitz shook his head and sighed. He was obviously shaken by what this man had done.

  "You stupid sucks would kill someone over protocol?" Van Gar asked in disbelief.

  "I know it doesn't mean anything to you, or for that matter to our Queen. But to certain people, especially those of noble birth, protocol is very important. They're very proud of their heritage. And, let's face it, Drewcila is making a mockery of everything they stand for. Lord Greyston was a member of the advisory council, as was his father and his grandfather before him. She's messing with generations of tradition, and it's obvious that some people don't appreciate it."

  "People like you, Fitz?" Van Gar asked softly.

  Fitz smiled and nodded. "That's no secret. I've tried to get Drewcila to act in a more queenly manner, but you see how much progress I've made. If she would just give in a little. For instance, since her return she has not made any attempt to hold a ball or a banquet for the nobles of the kingdom. Such a simple thing would show them that she respects them."

  "But you and I both know that she doesn't. She thinks they are a lot of fat, rich fuckers, resting on their titles."

  Fitz smiled and nodded. "Yes, we know it, but there is no reason that they must. And if she would hold a banquet and get to know them again, who knows? Maybe she might even like them. If she didn't, she could at least pretend."

  "I'll see what I can do about talking her into it. Meanwhile, there's something bothering me. Something that Facto said."

  "Facto? What did he say?"

  "He said that if anything happened to Drew, he would be in charge. It that true?"

  "Yes, it's true. Why do you ask? Certainly you don't think Facto had anything to do with the attempt on Drew's life?"

  "You tell me. Power of that kind is a pretty good motive for murder," Van Gar suggested.

  "You can put that right out of your mind. Facto may not approve of Drew. And, yes, it's true that he tried to get Zarco to leave her where she was, but he's just not capable of such a plot."

  "I'll tell you something, Fitz. If this little excursion to your planet has taught me anything, it's that you never know anyone as well as you think you do. If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just keep an eye on old Facto."

  Chapter 14

  Zarco stared at the wall. He had lost track of time. Day turned into night, and night into day, and it had all lost meaning as he sat in his tiny cell waiting for his release. He had just about given up hope. Taralin seemed more than happy to let him rot here, and it seemed from the news casts that no one even remembered they had a King, much less were in any hurry to see him returned to power. He saw Marcus pushing the screen over.

  "The Queen's making a speech. I thought you'd like to see it." He turned the TV on, and Taralin's face filled the screen.

  "As you all know, unemployment is at an all-time low, but that is not the only problem our country faces, nor am I pretending that it is. In the last few weeks, with the help of my staff and from concerned citizens out there who took the time to write about what they saw as problems—as well as the possible solutions to those problems. I believe I have come up with some answers—real answers. Not a bandage on a cut, as has been suggested by my advisors, but a cure.

&nb
sp; "I will start with health care, as that seems to be the number one bitch, and I will work my way down the list. Right now, the government has a policy concerning health care which I simply do not understand. It seems that if you do not work, or are unable to work, or are too old to work, you can get any sort of health care—free. In other words, if you contribute nothing to society, and don't pay any taxes, we—the government—take care of you. Once again, let's look at the country like a business. One, Two and Three are hard workers. Four never lifts his hand to work, Five has no hands, so he might as well not be there, and Six is so old that he works too slowly to be effective—he might as well stay home. One day, there is an explosion in the plant, and all six employees are injured. As the employer, I can afford to send three workers to the hospital. Obviously, I send One, Two, and Three, right? Wrong. According to current policy, I send Four, Five and Six—leaving One, Two and Three to fend for themselves. Except that they can't afford medical care, because it is hideously high, so they go without. One dies, Two suffers injuries so bad that he can no longer work, and Three is permanently disabled so that he can only do half the work he used to do. So, now I have gone from having three out of six employees being unproductive to six out of six. That is the cost of our current health care program. People are punished for being healthy and productive.

  "This is my proposal. Under the new law, anyone currently paying taxes will receive emergency medical care free—emergency to include life-threatening illnesses. All children under the age of majority will also receive free medical care. Anyone else must pay for such care. According to my calculations, the government can save billions of Gildoltars in revenue each year simply by taking these unproductive members of our community off the health care programs, and placing tax-paying, productive members on it.

  "Now, before you start calling me a cold, calculating bitch and accuse me of being uncompassionate, let me say this. Right now, only one in twenty can afford health care. Under my new program, only one in twenty won't be able to. I also have a parts two and three to this program. They will all tie in, so please let me continue before you stop listening.

  "Part 2: No one shall be unemployable simply because of their age, nor shall their age be an excuse to stop working. Under the new law, all employers will find a suitable position for the aged employee—his or her work day not to exceed five hours, four days a week, with no cut in hourly rates. Such employees will then receive the same medical benefits that all tax-paying individuals receive. Because the government will not be paying old-age pensions, and because the elderly employed will still be paying taxes, not only will they save the country several million Gildoltars, but I have to believe that the resulting feeling of productivity should reduce the now high rate of suicide among our elderly.

  "Part 3: No one shall be considered too handicapped to work. Employers accommodating a handicapped worker shall receive tax cuts matching the wages paid to these people. Citizens too debilitated to leave their homes shall be given the chance to do piece-work from their homes, or other home-based work, depending upon their skills. In this manner, all handicapped persons can be covered under the national health plan. And again, because we would not be paying these persons for their disability, and because they will be paying taxes, this will once again save the country millions."

  She paused long enough to drink half a can of beer, and to wink at the camera man, and then she continued.

  "Second problem: The indigent—people who are unproductive for no other reason than it's become a way of life. Because of our free medical to the 'poor' they have bred like flies. Why? Because we give them more money for each child they have. Well, the days of the hand-out are over, boys and girls. Our country's roads, parks and space-ports are in bad need of repair. All people now receiving free rent, free utilities, grocery allotments, and/or large sums of money for sitting on their asses will be put to work. You will be moved to government housing and given food of our choosing. While you are working, a government staff will keep under-age children. A government staff will also clean quarters. All such government staff members will be drawn from those presently indigent persons who are living off the government. Since we are already supporting these people, this program will cost the government nothing, and hopefully we can teach these people—or at least their children—a little pride, as well as cleaning up our roads and other much needed work. Since taxes would be taken from their wages, they would then fall under the medical program.

  "Third problem: The outrageous cost of medical care. These costs brought my attention to the fact that there are a whole lot of people out there making outrageous wages who don't work any harder, if as hard, as the rest of us. These people are systematically raping our population. Extravagantly high wages were a big part of our employment problem. It also caused a huge gap between the so-called classes that had nothing at all to do with the real productivity of a worker. This problem was the most easily solved. There is already a minimum wage. I will also make a maximum wage, under which no one will be allowed to make over a certain amount of money per hour. This law covers everyone from the factory worker to the doctor and the guy who owns the pharmaceutical company. This in itself should bring the cost of health care, cars, textiles, etc., down. For those of you who think you cannot get rich under this program, please take some time and figure it out. In an economy where a man can't make less than one Gildoltar an hour or more than twenty, any man who makes eighteen is rich. He's just not filthy stupid fucking rich.

  "Fourth problem." She finished her beer. "Crime." She laughed and shook her head in disbelief. "The way we handle crime in this country is nothing short of ludicrous. When a criminal is convicted of a crime they take him to a special hotel where he is given free room and board, an athletic training area, free higher education, and free medical. In short, they live better than most tax payers—at a high cost to the government."

  She leaned forward and her expression suddenly got very dark. "Solution: Trenches are now being dug. Tomorrow, every person now in prison having been convicted of a violent crime-violent crimes being murder, attempted murder, rape, attempted rape, and child abuse in any form—shall be shot and buried. From this day forward, such crimes shall be punishable by death upon conviction without appeal."

  She sat back, and some of the tension left her face. "All other prisoners shall be released. All those newly-released prisoners convicted of robbery or other 'non-violent' crimes, and all who have a previous conviction of any type on their record, shall be shot without appeal upon conviction of the next offense of any type. First-time non-violent offenders will spend five years in jail upon conviction without appeal. In other words, get caught the first time committing a non-violent crime, and you rot in jail doing hard labor without pay. First-time violent offenders and second-time non-violent offenders will rot in the ground."

  Drew took a deep breath, smiled and shrugged.

  "Obviously, this program will save us countless billions. Not just in care and feeding, but we will only need one in five of our present prison facilities. So, what do we do with the other buildings? You should all know me too well by now to believe that I don't have a plan to re-use them." She grinned again, widely this time. "Well, the soon-to-be-empty buildings will be used to house those people in the new government work program—remember the second problem? Their first job will be to make these former prisons into decent housing. The housing they are now using—mostly rental property—should give affordable housing to the tens of thousands of working people who desperately need it.

  "That leaves us with problem number five." She started a new beer."The plight of our country's farmers. The only problem they seem to have is that they had a good year, and so did everyone else. Their store-houses are full of Rash. Next year, they'll know to diversify. In the mean time, they're all going to go broke unless we help them—but they're also going to help us. As most of you know, Rash is the one grain known to be a complete diet. So, the people on the new work progra
m will be eating a lot of Rash. In the future, whatever the product, the government will buy the farmer's surplus to feed the people on the work program." She downed the beer. "So, that's about got it. Any questions?"

  Everyone started shouting at once, and she held up her had. "Yo! One at a time, or you can forget it. I haven't really slept in two weeks, and I'm on the rag, so don't push it."

  One man held his hand up higher than anyone else, and she nodded in his direction. He was so surprised that she had called on him, that it took him several seconds to remember what he had wanted to ask. "My Queen, your new crime program seems a little harsh. Do you really think it will work?"

  "Dead people don't commit crimes," Drew laughed and nodded at another reporter.

  "Don't you think the 'poor' will revolt? I mean, talk about harsh. Where is your compassion?" A young woman asked.

  "If the 'poor' revolt, we will have no other recourse than to shoot them in the street. As for compassion—two things. One, my compassion is for the people whose backs the unproductive have been riding on too damn long. And two, I am offering these people a chance to be productive, live in decent housing and eat wholesome food. Plus, no one has said that they must enter the work program—just don't expect a check from us. Next," she nodded at an older man.