Free Monthly #23 The Morning Meeting (Lily Lang)

A selection from 21st Century Short Stories

Introduction

Unless I’m blind as a bat (and sometimes I wonder if I am), this is the first selection of the 21st Century Short Stories this year. This story takes place sometime during the events of Emergence (UBL for those who haven’t bought it yet). There are no spoilers to the book at large, only adding to what we already know about Lily Lang from Free Monthly #5.

21st Century Short Stories | The Morning Meeting (Lily Lang)

The image on the wall of my father looked down at me with a stern gaze. Instead of focusing on my task, I thought about what I was doing. My work would enable the Absolutists to increase their control over North America. I was tasked with empowering the Families. Now, I was one of them. What would my father say?

His voice popped into my mind as I gazed up at the picture. “You have done well for yourself, but what have you done for others?”

“I don’t know.” I replied. The dark hallway was empty at this hour and whenever I could not sleep, I had to talk things through. Tonight, the urge to converse with my father struck me.

“Then you are on the wrong path, my little Lily.”

“But what else is there for me to do, dad? How do I serve others?”

“That is for you to figure out, Lily. I am merely the one who worked to give you some guiding principles in this life.”

“And I fear I’ve strayed from them.”

“The course of one’s life is never set in stone. The future is a malleable. It always is no matter the concreteness of the present.”

I nodded and looked around to ensure I was still alone. My wristphone was still in the bedroom. No All-Seeing Eyes would know I was speaking to an imaginary ghost of my father. “I may need to undo the work I’ve done to shape the future. That’s what scares me.”

My father continued to look down at me with his furrowed eyes and stern expression. His white eyebrows were bushy and what remained of his hair circled the top of his head like a bowl. I waited for his reply, but it did not come. I could not recall his words of wisdom, and my mind refused to generate new ones. Not tonight, anyway.

I sighed and paced once more. While I was on track to achieve what I had aimed for, ulterior motives were creeping up behind me and presenting themselves through every Family member I met. I had always assumed my reasons for taking the presidency were for the betterment of society, even if it meant the occasional undermining of Absolutist plans. However, the truth I was struggling with was the fact I was empowering myself and harming others along the way. The concept of the greater good only kept guilt away from my conscious for so long. The hens were finally roosting. My actions had become too much to ignore.

 I was deeply worried about the North American technocrats, the ones that joined at the hip with other industries to become the first American Families. I was not one of them, not until Rodney granted me patronage. Even then, I was a lesser member of our order, stuck doing their bidding and living in the precarious situation that it brought. If I failed to do the work tasked to me, I would be stripped of any privileges and tossed back to the masses who would shun me. If I tried to push upward, they would perceive it as a threat and handle it in a similar manner.

I thought things would remain relatively normal after Rodney’s patronage and, to an extent, I was right. There was no obvious driving logic to dictate a change in my course and altitude, but one came last week when Rodney connected me with Alexa and Fiona. Before I knew it, I was on a path to the presidency. They needed a new spokesperson for their mission, for the North American AI Governor, and for the powerless mass that was called the North American Congress.

“Lily!” My husband’s distinct hoarse voice cut across our home. I glanced down the hall to the room he was standing in. Our house was modest by Family standards, yet the several rooms of the single floor home were more than most people had. The AI Governor reached the conclusion decades ago that people’s excessive lifestyles prevented the equitable treatment of others and nature’s desire to thrive. To rectify the equation, as my professor taught me, the governor did what it does best. It coerced everyone to downsize to continue our survival. The governor created an exception list and enforced compliance. Those who resisted risked being excluded, indefinitely.

With the population remaining relatively stagnant in North America, even declining in the last two decades, I was unsure how many people bought those particular lies now that we knew nature was still struggling to thrive as it once had on the continent. In the end, everyone that wished to stay connected to the rest of the world moved to east and west coasts where the All-Seeing Eyes infrastructure was more robust. Those who stayed in the middle were quickly forgotten and the reservations housing Abnormals were all the average citizen cared about. The Families understood the need for infrastructure to maintain transportation of food and supplies and used their efforts to gain support among the disaffected of the regime.

I crossed our home and found my husband looking out the window. The dim lighting made it impossible for me to see what he was looking at until I reached his side. A limo between two SUVs sat in our driveway. My mind raced through the list of people that might come to our home. It was rare for anyone of importance to visit, especially so early in the morning. In the last six months, I could count two separate visits. That included the one from last week when Rodney, Alexa, and Fiona first told me of their plans. I calmed myself through controlled breathing, weaning my anxiety and heart rate down.

A black suited bodyguard exited one of the SUVs and opened the limo door. A bulky man with a salt and peppered beard emerged and cast his gaze about. I felt my body clench up and I held my breath again as the pounded of my heart resumed. I wondered just who it was that was coming to our humble abode where so many of the Lessor Families lived in Delaware. I raced through the names of people he might be, but I could not place his name.

The large man strolled forward and did not bat an eye when the automated porch lights came on. He continued up the steps with his bodyguard trailing, eyes peeled for trouble. I chuckled. I could not help myself. It was all a facade since we resided in a gated community. The several reporters taking pictures with their thin tablets just beyond the motorcade would not have been permitted otherwise. The best drone system and fencing available helped monitor the perimeter of our community to keep disgruntled citizens at bay. Whoever the man was, he came with authority.

I took a moment to marvel at the reporter’s tablets, which possessed large opaque tactile touch screens with a back that turned into a lens for the camera apparatus attached to the tablet. The edges of the devices were solid and housed the battery, processors, and light emitters. The devices were a unique invention being beta tested by reporters. With the devices, reporters could take a picture or video, record audio, write, and not miss anything. The opaque screen allowed them to see what they were writing and what lay beyond the text on the screen.

I crossed to the next room and answered the door when the bearded man knocked. As soon as the door opened, he beamed at me and winked as he spoke with an eastern European accent I could not place. “Good morning, my dear. I know the hour is early, but I was in the area and wished to speak with you.”

“Who are you?”

My question made him broaden his smile. “Perhaps we should finish our greeting and go inside before we continue our conversation?”

“Right you are.” I said and stepped out onto the porch next to him and shook his hand. I had made a habit of wearing presentable clothes to bed in recent weeks as I was often called in to work at odd hours. The result was a wrinkled, deep blue suit as I stood next to the man. The reporters began adjusting their tablet cameras. While I hated the idea of looking shabby next to the man with his perfectly tailored and pressed burgundy suit, it was the least of my concerns. I still did not know who the man was. “Together?”

“Together.” The man replied with a glance at my husband, who was only visible to us.

Then, in unison, we recited the words of our pledge as was customary before leaving the public eye for the safety of private spaces. “We will support, uphold, and give our all to the government.”

“Inside we go.” The man said and ushered me into my own home. Once the door was shut, he turned to me with a rambunctious grin. “You don’t recognize me? My dear Lily, that is a shame! I’ve come from Europe to discuss defense contracts. Have you not heard I was in town?”

“Oh, you’re Ivan Vasilevsky!” Comprehension filled my thoughts as everything started making sense.

“Indeed, I am. And since I’ve been told you’re going to be president soon, I felt we should at least touch base on a few things. I know the families over here are not always forthright with their plans.”

“Please, let’s sit in my study.”

My husband stepped toward the kitchen. “I will get some tea and coffee.”

“Some coffee would be perfect. It has been a long morning so far.” Vasilevsky said as he followed me down the hallway and into my study.

The room was large enough for a modest desk next to the window and four chairs before it. Each of the three remaining walls housed bookshelves, but only the north wall held any books. The others were littered with various works of art. Vasilevsky glanced at the books before turning to study the artwork. After several seconds, I began the conversation. “You do understand the whole presidency thing isn’t a decided thing, right?”

“I believe you will ascend to the presidency.”

“Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“I’m an excellent judge of character and I’m privy to information that you’re not, my dear.” He stated his reply as if it were a matter of fact. His confidence made me want to slap him, but I resisted the urge. “This painting here, it is a work from the great Stewie, isn’t it?”

“Uh—yeah, I think it is. Why?”

“I’m a fan of his work. Went a little crazy there and obviously became an enemy of the All-Seeing Eyes, but you cannot argue with his abilities as an artist. I love his poetry more than his paintings and drawings though. You know any of his poems?”

“I can’t say that I do off the top of my head.”

“That’s a shame.”

“So, you’re here to get to know me before working with my administration? Is that it, Ivan?” I asked, trying to get the conversation moving towards something productive.

“Something like that, and please, call me Vasil.” My husband brought a tray with three cups of coffee and some honey in and doled one out to Vasil and myself before taking the last one. Only I dabbed some of the honey into my coffee. We all sipped our drinks and Vasil’s eyes widened. “This is the best coffee I’ve had in quite some time!”

My husband loved his coffee, and I could see the pride well up in him as he said, “It’s one of the few things we splurge on.”

“And the perfect thing to splurge on!”

“Can you give us a few minutes? I need to speak to Vasil here alone.”

“Of course. Of course. Let me know if you need more coffee or some honey.”

“Will do.”

He exited and I shut the study door. “Now, Vasil, what is it that you need from me?”

“Why do you assume I need anything, my dear?”

“Why else would you show up at this hour? Have you not acclimated to our time zone?”

“I am constantly traveling. I know how to handle the jet lag by now.” Vasil’s words were slightly scornful, but his demeanor was unchanged. “I need to know what they have lined up for you to do in South America. I want to ensure that my business ventures do not interrupt or conflict with your friends and their plans.”

I frowned at this. “Why would I divulge any of that to you? What would I gain from it? Have you asked them yourself?”

“I can make contract negotiations for the North American Absolutists go far smoother than they are going currently. All I need to know is what the plans are for South America as it relates to these defense contracts. I have asked and received answers that do not strike me as, shall we say, valid? Why is it I find my companies constructing these weapons and ships and such when North America is not at war with anyone?”

“Ah, you want to know if we’re going to help against the SAR?”

“That’s certainly part of it, my dear. The SAR and the African groups are what I am curious about. They’ve been a nuisance for some time, growing in power, but I believe there is more to the movements, posturing, and orders from North America than meets the eye. I merely want to understand, my dear. Help me understand, and I’ll help to expedite the Absolutist plans.”

“What if we are making moves against the SAR?”

“It will lead to disruptions in my business ventures. If I can be proactive, my work for your friends, my friends, all Absolutists, will continue without interruption.”

“And what about Africa?”

“The same answer applies, I think.” Vasil’s words were casual as he watched the coffee swirl in the cup as he rotated his hand.

“Why do you assume any military buildup would be directed to those places?”

“Come now, would the Families of North America be doing anything else? Besides, I spoke with them and about South America. I know where their minds are.”

“And the answers of they gave didn’t satisfy for what reason exactly?”

“Surely you know of their constant deceit with one another and with those they seek to use as pawns. I’m not interested in playing their games. I have a business to run.”

That much I figured to be true based on what I had heard about Vasil and his organization. He was one of the few who grew in wealth, power, and influence without being attacked by other Absolutists. “You do this in the open? I’ll have to justify this conversation and it sounds like I’ll need to lie. Do you think that’s wise of me?”

“I asked Rodney if he minded and he gave me the go ahead. So here I am. We are conversing under the pretense that I wish to meet the future president and develop a working relationship. It’ll benefit you and me. That’s all you need to speak to.”

“I see.” I let the lull in conversation stretch for several seconds. The old analog clock on the bookshelf behind me ticked the seconds away before I met his eyes again. “Okay, what do you already know?”

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