Lyons and Ray moved into the office as the two men shook hands. Rove continued, “I am sorry to enter my office so rudely Mr. Goldberg, my administrative assistant Ms. Lyons failed to mention she had already let you in,” he laughed mischievously glancing at his blushing assistant.
“Now Mr. President, don’t give her too much grief. I mean look at that pretty smile, you can’t get mad at that now can you?” Goldberg remarked releasing Rove’s hand.
“No you can not,” he agreed putting his hands in his pockets, and then spreading them out welcomingly, “Sit down, sit down. Can I offer you any kind of coffee or tea,” he suggested to Goldberg as they settled themselves into the comfortable furniture.
“No, no I am quite alright. I am here on business, Mr. President. Not pleasure,” Goldberg scowled.
Kel Goldberg, pushing his early sixties, had been the mayor of Villaggio since the days of Xavier’s youth. Even at that time, Xavier thought Goldberg looked old. His grey hair made its home on the top of his skinny face. Goldberg was the sternest and most serious man Xavier had ever met. His conviction and love for his city was admirable and yet it carried with it a certain sense of recklessness. Rove always likened it to the story of a young boy protecting his younger brother from a dog with a stick. Sometimes if the boy just held the stick that was enough to get the job done. Other times a couple swings would suffice. Goldberg was the type of person that always swung. Rove wondered if it was because of his earlier days serving in the National Guard for Virtagwalla. Kel still proudly displayed his National Guard Ceremonial Saber in his office in Villaggio City Hall.
“Fine Mr. Mayor. Just business,” he nodded to Lyons and she left, closing the doors. Ray settled in at a desk in the back right corner looking out the window, which peered over the famous flowing east lawn and Grand Via loop of Capital Tower.
Kel eyed Hampton with contempt. Turning back to Rove, “Does your associate always sit in on your meetings?” He whispered, flicking his eyes back towards Ray.
Xavier chortled, “Hampton Ray is my Chief of Staff and one of my most trusted advisors. I often ask him to accompany me in business meetings. If you are uncomfortable with that I would be more than happy to ask him to excuse us such that we can speak in absolute privacy?”
Goldberg shook his head sighing. He stood up and moved towards Rove’s fireplace. Leaning against the mantle, he shouted, “Mr. President, we have been colleagues for a very long time, haven’t we?”
Rove leaned back in his chair with a playful grin on his face, “I believe that would be an accurate statement. I hoped by this point we could refer to our relationship more as a friendship than simply colleagues. But if you wish to call it simply that, than I would agree with you. Yes.”
Goldberg clenched his hand, “I have always been up front with you, Mr. President. I have always shot straight with you. And I always took you as a man of solid character and integrity. I mean you are a Villaggian boy for God sakes. You have always shot straight with me too, Mr. President, have you not?”
Rove rolled his eyes and snorted, having an idea of where all this was going, “Yes Mr. Goldberg I have always told you exactly what I know and how I feel.”
Again Goldberg sighed rather dramatically, “Well, sir, as the Mayor of Villaggio I am here once again on their behalf to serve the complaints of its residents. We feel that Ponchertrain is once again trying to wheedle their way into our city. Ponchertrain is attempting to use all of its money and influence to make us into their little project. Well we will have none of it!”
Goldberg paused his hysterical fit, which providing Rove on opportunity to stand and call for Lyons to come into the office. After she entered, he requested, “Can you please get Mr. Goldberg some coffee and one of those chocolate éclairs from Sue’s bakery. The ones you usually have in the kitchen every morning? I think he’s going to need to try one,” he flashed his charming smile at her, and then at Goldberg. He paced over to Goldberg, and placed his hands on the Mayor’s shoulders, “My good friend, you have nothing to worry about. Ponchertrain is more than content dealing with its own problems on this part of the island. Trust me,” he consoled, leading Goldberg back to the couch.
Lyons set the coffee and doughnut on the table. Rove moved back in his chair and the room hung in anxious silence. Rove placed his two fingers against his temple, “Try the doughnut, it really is fantastic.”
Goldberg grabbed the pastry, and raised it to his mouth for a bite, “Wow, this really is great.”
“I told you. Trust me on these things,” he smirked cunningly, “And trust me when I say that Ponchertrain wants nothing to do with Villaggio,” the President paused and then asked, “Was there anything else?
Pushing the doughnut away, the Mayor shouted in response to Rove’s question, “Mr. President, we have gone over this before but I wish to bring it up with you again. The Villaggian City Council has taken its own independent, closed-door vote and we all, collectively, saw this issue the same way. No one on that council supports your actions of driving this nation to be just another star on the United States’ flag. We feel that your actions have been and continue to be reckless, and dangerous.”
Rove rolled his eyes, and he carefully placed his coffee down on the table. The President snapped his eyes to Goldberg, “Now Kel,” he remarked standing up, “I have told you this a thousand times, and I would be more than happy to come out to Villaggio and tell each and every one of your council members the exact same thing: I did not decide to make Virtagwalla a candidate for statehood. It was the people. You know that three years ago this issue was taken to a vote and 500,000 people cast their opinion. The majority made it quite clear they felt the best thing to do for our people was to ask to join the United States. And therefore, coming into office I went with the will of the people. That is our system. This is not just my government, or just your government. I don’t know how you run it over in Villaggio, but when the majority of people want to do something, here in Ponchertrain, you are either going with it, or being trampled in its wake. I wish not to be trampled, so that is what we are doing.”
“Mr. President we simply can not support your actions?” Goldberg reacted again with a controlled sense of rage.
“No Mr. Goldberg, you can’t support your countrymen. Democracy has dealt her card, and we are all having to adjust our hands to make it work. The only thing I see is your city council refusing to realize the times and preparing yourselves and your people for the modification.”
Kel crossed his arms and shook his head; “It is people like you that have just given away this nation’s blood and treasure. The United States will gladly welcome us with open arms. That country will come in, wave their flags, and make our schools just as bad as theirs. Then they will put the screws to us. They are going to tax us like there is no tomorrow. With their debt and their wars they need our blood and treasure. Well let me tell you sonny, this place used to be different. This place used to be stronger until Ponchertrain opened itself up to the world like some dirty prostitute, and allowed people from out there to come here. To lay down roots! It was these shiny buildings that dragged down what it meant to be a Virtagwallan - it is those fancy suits, flashy banks and business, and racy lifestyles. Well Villaggio just wants to voice its detest for this entire exercise.”
Rove sighed and calmly remarked, “Mr. Goldberg I am sorry you feel that way. I truly am. It is disheartening to see such an out dated attitude. What I am not sorry for is welcoming the world into our city and our nation with welcoming arms. To me, that is what it means to be Virtagwallan. We are not a bunch of slow moving, witless famers on an island in the middle of the pacific ocean enjoying our beaches and keep them all to ourselves. Just because we may have a different flag flying over our heads does not change who we are,” Rove stepped closer to the Mayor, “Mr. Goldberg, do not ever come back into this office and criticize this nation, or these people - your people. Because if you do, you will surely be sorry for it,” he calmly ended with a smi
le.
Kel silently reached down, and finished his coffee. Rove moved back to the sitting area, “Now Mr. Goldberg, is there anything else you have come to speak to me about?”
He heaved, “Yes Mr. President there is. I, and by that I mean we as a council, we are most disappointed in the recent decisions made by the University of Virtagwalla.”
Rove found it odd that it was the second time in one morning the University had been the point of conversation, but being off the topic of statehood comforted him, so he provoked Kel, “What exactly do you mean by ‘recent decisions’?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Mr. President. I am speaking of the university’s decision to expand to Villaggio in order to establish a branch near the downtown square.”
Rove cocked his head and stopped mid sip, “What are you talking about? The UV is expanding to Villaggio? How did you learn this information?”
“It is really quite obvious, especially when the land they acquired has a fence around it and every twenty to thirty feet are signs talking about the Villaggian campus coming soon from the University of Virtagwalla,” he remarked sarcastically.
Rove sighed, shocked, “I am sorry Mr. Goldberg but this is news to me. I was unaware of the University’s desire to expand. I mean I believe it is completely legal, however I didn’t realize there was a demand or desire for a branch of UV especially because Villaggio College is their top rival.”
“Well I guess the Board of Trustees felt there was a need and a desire, Mr. Rove, because a plan seems to be moving forward to expand the system.”
“I don’t remember any vote on the topic of expansion and I am an member of that board. I will do some looking into this. Thank you for the information and the heads up,” Rove remarked, standing up.
Goldberg followed suit, finishing off the doughnut. After shaking the Mayor’s hand, the President pointed at the empty plate, “I told you, you were going to love that doughnut didn’t I? Grab another one on your way out!”
Goldberg was barely in the elevator when Ray gathered up the President’s things, and ushered him out as well. After riding the elevator all the way down to the basement, they followed a tunnel under the Capital Tower’s front lawn. The two walked quite a ways below the ground before they entered the sun drenched subterranean terminal of the island’s light rail system. The station had been shut down to the public, and the only people that stood in the terminal were the graying Prime Minister, Artimus Zhang, and the vivacious Minister of Finance, Jacqueline Sensado.
Rove hollered at the Prime Minister as they approached each other, “So why aren’t we just taking a helicopter again, instead of bothering with these Carriages?”
Zhang snarled in response, “I hate helicopters. You know that. I just don’t trust those damn things.”
Rove rolled his eyes, as he greeted his Minister of Finance. Without haste, moments later a shiny silver and glass Larynx Light Rail Carriage pulled into the station. The egg shaped carriage side hatch opened to reveal a man welcoming them.
“Good Afternoon Mr. President, Mr. Prime Minister, Minister Sensado, and Mr. Ray,” the man greeted, summoning them into the carriage.
The man was dressed in a finely appointed silver grey suit with a matching hat. He carried in his hand a silver briefcase, and sunglasses, “Please find a seat. I will let the pilot know we are ready to depart,” the man remarked, showing the guests where to sit down.
“Mr. Larynx, I was not aware you would be joining us on our little adventure into the jungle today,” Jacqueline Sensado said elegantly sitting down.
“Ms. Sensado besides holding a voting seat on the Board of Directors of the Republic Power Company,” he glanced at her and winked a witty smile, “I wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world.” Eric Larynx grabbed a phone on the wall of the carriage, called the pilot, and joined the group in casual conversation as the light rail carriage sealed its glass hatch, and rocketed out of the station into the bright Virtagwallan morning.
4
At the time of Eric Larynx’s childhood Virtagwalla was quickly rising as the financial capital of the Far East. Not yet had China pulled itself into the modern age. Banks that had taken over the rest of the world were looking for a safe foot hole to set up shop to service the rapidly industrializing indo-china region. Having at one time been a US territory and military protectorate, Virtagwalla resembled an already established microcosm of the American free enterprise system. When Eric was in the fourth grade his family sold their already massive home outside of Seattle, Washington to move into one twice the size in the Settlerstown neighborhood of Ponchertrain, Virtagwalla. His father was named the President of the island’s branch and Vice President for Asian Affairs. Life in Virtagwalla turned out to be a nice one, at least for Eric and his sister. On the other hand, their mother had a mental break down only after about three years, and moved back to Seattle to live with her parents.
During his time in college at the University of Washington, his father had passed, and to him and his sister he left a vast fortune. Taking his piece of the fortune, Larynx moved back to Virtagwalla and using his Engineering and Finance degrees he went about designing and implementing one of the most ambitious projects ever before conceived in Virtagwalla – a light rail system starting in Ponchertrain that connected everything. It would unify the island like the highway had when he was younger. The politicians had issues with its aesthetic appeal to their jewel box city, so Larynx artistically crafted one of the most seamless systems ever designed. The tracks, and the stations were built into existing buildings – the tracks literally would go in and out of the shiny spires of the city. The other way he convinced the civic leaders was that his new company, Larynx Light Rail Corporation would finance the entire project with its own money. After ten years, Larynx had achieved his goal. The entire city of Ponchertrain had been connected, starting in its architecturally stunning Larynx Central Station downtown, and weaving its way through the burrows of Capital Square, the Business District, University Center, the docks and shipping yards outside of the Freeway Loop, Park Giza, Maynard, and Settlerstown. The newest set of tracks, “the Ring” as his champions and critics uniformly referred to it, took travelers along the coast and through parts of the jungle, quickly and efficiently, to Villaggio. It cut the travel between the two cities of an hour along the highways and its treacherous turns, to merely twenty minutes in the comfort of the impressive Larynx Carriages.
Eric Larynx by the age of forty was not only one of the richest men in Virtagwalla but in the world as well. He had patented and designed his revolutionary train system technology that ran efficiently off of electricity and magnets– systems that cities paid billions to replicate.
However, it simply wasn’t the rail industry that made him fabulously wealthy. After completing the first line on the island, he was featured in Forbes Magazine as one of the greatest innovators of his day. At that point he was brought into many companies as a member of their Board of Directors. As such a substantial client, Eric Larynx was asked to join the Republic Power Company’s Board of Directors. He agreed, noticing his company’s reliance on the power company. He never understood why the Republic Power Company was allowed to operate as an independent company – aside from the Villaggian City Council’s influence on its basic rate price. Other companies on the island that had no competition like the Virtagwallan Gold Depository Company, or VirtGold, had been partially nationalized by the government. Yet RPC was permitted to operate without significant government interaction, and essentially no government control. It wasn’t till that fateful day when he was to greet the President, Prime Minister and the Minister of Finance on one of his Carriages en route to the Republic Power Company’s headquarters in the jungle would he begin to understand that the power industry was in fact a very political issue.
The Larynx Carriage sailed smoothly along the rails following the path of the highway leaving the city. As the Carriage approached the coast, the track veered sharply, and it continu
ed along the cliffs overlooking the ocean and rock faces of the Mounts. Rove dominated the conversation.
“So Mr. Larynx, Prime Minister Zhang tells me you have approached the Parliament about building one of your light rails along old Highway 100,” Rove said leaning back in his seat.
Larynx looked over at Zhang who rolled his eyes sharply but continued to gaze out the window at the water. Eric nodded his head, “Yes, Mr. President, that is the plan. I think it would really help to bring this island together. It would unite the two great cities with a more efficient means than that of a bumpy old road. It would improve transportation for sure, but also trade, and communication. I mean cell phones and the cell towers surely do a sufficient job now, but what happens if an emergency leaves us without a cell tower, or hell, even hard phone lines. There is nothing like good old fashion mass transit to help get food, money, and information to people.”
Rove laughed, “Well you have sold me,” he paused chuckling, “So what’s the hold up?”
Larynx looked at the Prime Minister who didn’t even flutter his eyes in Larynx’s direction. Jacqueline Sensado sighed at the Prime Minister then said, “Sir, decades ago Virtagwalla put forth a statute outlawing the destruction of the Virtagwallan Cedar jungle without express consent of the Parliament. This project would be built through the jungle and thereby require some trees to be removed. There are members of the Parliament that are not convinced the rail is a good enough reason to do more damage to the jungle’s fragile ecosystem.”
“Right,” Rove rolled his eyes, “So you want to cut down some trees, but the Parliament’s tree-hugging stance is problematic. I see where they’re coming from. So how do you get their approval?”
utopia unraveling (The Virtagwala Series Book 1) Page 2
