The Meeting

The Meeting Cha 10 from LionWorld by William E Justin Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved For Big-E White, the decision to end his 15-year career in professional Lion-Fighting did not bring increased peace of mind. He could see how habituated he had become by the routine of it all. His life had been set around the strict calendar of the professional lion-fighting season, that began in spring and was concluded before autumn. During the off-season, he stuck to his personal training and avoided any management tasks that went for setting up the coming year’s slate of matches. Max and Merle would be The Le Muffet Crew’s representatives at the January league summit where video of new and known pockets of Tall Lions around the world would be looked at, evaluated and put to political gamesmanship among the clubs, league officials, and Pay-Per-View companies. Big-E didn’t prefer to even get on a plane or leave his estate during that time. But he had to attend events with Coco and keep her happy. Tomorrow they would fly to Hawaii with Max and Marthia to meet with Ethan Vulerummer about the exhibition match that was being planned for the first week in spring. It would take place on the day following the ceremony in Columbia District honoring the three great Lion-Fighters. He was excited about this. Vulerummer had passed the test he had secretly laid out—he’d agreed to pay a million dollars each to him, Max, and Jimmy Luani. It wasn’t the money but the opportunity to battle the leader of The Fascists and richest man in the world that had him keyed up now. Kerri Branghaue told him from the beginning that Vulerummer would likely have full control over the situation. But he felt intuitively—and because of all the strange events surrounding the exhibition —that some kind of crack was going to open up and swallow the man many considered to be the most dangerous and evil presently alive in the world. His attempt at “down-training” had not been going very well. The personal pattern of values he’d built up in his body and mind over the years would not yield easily. They “chattered” for greater stimulus and new adventures like a nest of baby birds. Paul Cavalet encouraged him to take it slow and stick with his current regimen. But he felt it would make more sense to increase and decrease the various aspects of his training on an overall decreasing slope—backing off on the speed and duration of his running for example, while upping the intensity for 180 degree lateral bursts or forward lunges. Cavalet told Big-E he was now passing into the 6th creative cycle of his body’s renewal process. After the 7th, at age 49, the bodily cells would loose a connection to the overall creative process and become less able to innovate. The body would then merely replicate itself and slowly fade like the readability of a document that gets copied from former copies. He could go on for decades having rises and falls in the various aspects of his physical vehicle—but would inevitably fall behind the curve and decline. Big-E hadn’t really understood what his mentor was telling him but Cavalet said that with some luck, he would over time. He always thought he’d achieved the full extent of his physical prowess—not by rote repetitious training alone—but also by making educated, spur-of-the moment changes in his training. Today, he ran as usual out to Las Grotto de Mirrillo Agua . He hadn’t liked the boarding up of the cave by World Security but understood the good reason for it. His friend the anthropology professor told him they would re-start their own work on the project in the spring. Big-E could tell World Security had gotten to the man and had shut down the project. Ordinarily, the enthusiastic professor would have begun work immediately when Big-E told him of the discovery.

The boarded up cave was a distraction. He didn’t like to see markings of civilization when he opened his eyes in the tight gorge filled with rock edifices and the natural hot spring that commingled with a creek coming down from the upper elevations. Big-E felt restless as he went back and forth between the hot and cold pools. He couldn’t still his mind. He wasn’t sure whether it was general restlessness or excitement about the trip to Hawaii that was making him unable to focus. He made a decision to go up the trail where he had seen the strange old lion several weeks earlier. He knew that trail but had never gone to the top of it. It ran up a high ridge above the canyon and onto another slope. It looked to him like a place where Tall Lions might gather. He didn’t really want to face off with any— especially when there was no money involved. He always carried a small tranquilizer dart crossbow along with a bat and blade when he went out into the wildlands. Really, the self-loading automatic weapon was all he needed in case he came upon a whole group. It came equipped with a maddening ”screech element”—a piercing siren sound that was switched off during professional lion-fighting matches unless a “lion rout” was under way and human lives had to be saved. He carried the bat and blade just in case he ran into a “Lone Tall”—a lion that had been cast off from the group after a battle with a non-sharing alpha male. Big-E didn’t like the Lone Tall’s. They possessed attitudes almost as nasty as the fringe lion . He thought if he came upon one he might just take it out manually for fun. Many of the Lone Tall’s would travel to the edges of civilization, where the fringe lion were relegated, and take over a group. They didn’t live long after that, as they would be spotted by World Security Lion Control and killed—lest they mate with fringe lionesses and begin to upgrade the population. Fringe Lion functioned perfectly as they were. The sheer disgust factor people could instantly see, hear and smell in the freakish breed was just right for keeping most people out of the wildlands. The Fascist Party in particular—with eyes focused on private control of the wilderness lands, were instrumental in maintaining the status quo regarding the Fringe Lion. Big-E wasn’t expecting any encounters with Tall Lions however. He followed the straight trail along the ridgeline for several miles until it abruptly ended in a rocky series of ledges perched before a huge, deep chasm. He dropped in among the outcroppings and found a flat area extending a couple hundred feet where he could gaze down into the chasm. A large anvil-shaped piece of rock jutted out into the huge gorge. It was two feet wide. Looking at it from the side gave the appearance of an old ship’s plank opened up before the ocean. He sat down for a while to study the peculiar edifice. He stood up and walked out to the base of the anvil-shaped rock and went up on one leg, out-stretched his arms and bent his upper body forward at the waist. His right foot was in front of his left. Then he came out from that position, took a step forward and once again adopted the pose. He did this until coming to the very tip of the narrow point and bent his right knee to lower his body. This is not something he would’ve attempted on a day with any wind swirling about. Even a small gust could’ve sent him careening into the deep chasm. But at the edge of that ridge it was strangely free of wind and he didn’t plan to stay there for long. What came to him as he maintained his pose however, was something very different then he could’ve ever expected—a sudden expulsion of a loud roar—clearly that of a Tall Lion. He could feel its outgoing breath on the back of his neck. It was that close to him. The roar reverberated in the rock and formed a distant echo from within the chasm. For almost anyone except Big-E White, the startling roar would’ve sent them into the chasm. Instead, his instinct and training allowed him to quickly roll back on two feet and jump high into the air while twisting his body in a single fluid motion. He landed with his right foot in front of his left foot, in fighting position, with both bat and blade removed from their holsters on his belt and now in hand. His body was slightly hunched and coiled to spring when he focused his eyes on the beast he knew would be right out in front of him preparing to maul him. What he saw instead actually caused him to freeze-up in body and mind—the great lion that had sounded such a roar was set back nearly 100 feet in front of him now. Sitting on the back of this exceptionally Tall Lion—that he recognized as the very old one he had seen that day in the canyon—was a man. The man spoke to Big-E, who was unable to move or speak; A thought crossed his mind that he might be in the midst of a stroke. “Your body seems to be frightened by my little lion,” the man said in a sweet voice that seemed to come from all directions around him. “You will recover shortly.” Then he addressed the great Lion-fighter in a soft tone one might use with a child; “Little Hero, I wanted you to re-experience your excellent fitness. It was I, along with your little dog that saved you in your battle not long ago. Tomorrow you will begin your final contest fighting the lions. I rely on you to be as focused as you are now in this present moment. Also, you must learn to become more happy in your blessed life.” The man was smiling

broadly, emitting kindness. He touched the lion on the side of its neck and the giant cat rotated his body to BigE’s left. “You performed very well a few moment ago”, the man said with admiration. “Still, your speed is no match for my beloved little lion, although he is quite old now.” And with that the lion and its rider propelled into a massive leap and shot right out of the top left of Big-E’s peripheral vision. Over the next few minutes, Big-E was able to slowly regain control over his body and speech. He staggered to the where the man and his lion had been. Their sudden, incomprehensible leap would’ve sent them flying into the chasm. He surveyed the area with his eyes looking for what should’ve been a pile of fleshy wreckage. There was none! There was one rocky shelf that could’ve supported their landing. But it was over a hundred feet away and down another thirty feet. But both gravity and their forward momentum would’ve sent them sliding off of that ledge as quickly as they arrived. The entire event was impossible: incomprehensible: unfathomable. Big-E slowly made his way back to Las Grotto de Mirilla Agua. He now realized this man was the Kachina he felt was stalking him and was responsible for the other strange events. He named the Kachina, The Lion Man and tried to suppress from his mind the flood of questions that kept arising about who this was, and what had actually happened. Did he dream this? Was this some border awareness between dreams and normal reality that he had crossed into? It had felt like any other kind of normal reality although the shock of the lion’s roar had jolted him into heightened state. But he understood the instruction The Lion Man had given him and told himself that this was the part of the event to stay focused on. As he sat down with his legs dipped into the cold pool, he realized that everything would be, as it must. Behind everything a Dynamic Will is expressing itself like a steady wind and all he had to do was to control his sail and rudder, and be happy. The thought of this took a lot of pressure out of him. He began to feel more at ease now. “Let thy will be done!” he repeated over and over again to himself. Then he thought of Coco and love for her filled his heart. He hurried home to see her although he wasn’t going to tell her about what he’d experienced; At another time perhaps, but not now. When her husband came into the kitchen he was two hours late and Coco was angry. But seeing him instantly erased all of that. He looked so different to her. She had never seen him look so soft and his face was strangely lit up. It was as if he had been transfigured—although she wasn’t exactly sure what a “transfigured” person would even look like. He was glowing. And not glowing with the shadow of a subtle smirk—which is how he usually appeared. He looked younger and sweeter. It didn’t occur to her to ask him what had happened. She began to melt into a dreamy state herself and came into her husband’s arms, which closed and held her like he had never held her. “I love my Big-E man so much”, she said dreamily. “I love my Coco baby even more” he replied—and she knew he really meant it. They were on the Le Muffet private jet the following day in route for Hawaii. They sat at the rear where Max filled his reclining chair and Marthia sat in the aisle opposite Big-E and Coco. Maxim’s baby sister was kidding him, “that he should be a real man and give up his comfortable seat to either Marthia or her”. “Naw” Max replied. “You know it all about my leg”. “You and that damn leg!” Coco exclaimed facetiously. “That his pride and joy” Marthia added and rubbed its somewhat squishy outer covering which gave the feel of real flesh. “That…my baby”, he said looking on the leg fondly while letting his fingers course over the top of his wife’s hand before patting the prosthetic limb attached to the thigh beneath his pants leg. “I know Big-E wish he had one” Max joked. They all laughed and Big-E laughed long and in a higher pitch then usual. He was almost giggly or giddy. This made his three companions look up. Big-E White wasn’t known to ever be “giggly”. Coco had noticed odd changes in him since the previous day but decided to not question him. Big-E would tell her when he was ready. This morning however—after a good night’s sleep—he had appeared more back to normal to her. He replied to Max’s jibe that he wouldn’t be needing a high tech leg anymore. This brought into focus the subject of the imminent closing down of the Le Muffet Lion-fighting organization. The next step would take place upon their return with a scheduled meeting with Bill and Ronnie. They worried that the youngest of the Le Muffet brothers would react very poorly to the news. He had sacrificed a lot to forego

college and join his brothers. They all feared he would join another club and now openly conspired on how they might get him to simply abandon Lion-fighting and return to school. Marthia said she had one idea. She mentioned the case of a rising battalier named Maurice Chattam from District Toronto in Canada. Chattam, a Muslimon, had simply quit the sport one day saying he had a dream that The Profit had come to him and demanded that he retire, saying it was forbidden that a man put his body—God’s great gift to a worthy soul—in harms way either for sport, recreation, or unjust war. As Lion-fighting was very popular among Muslims, it touched off a worldwide furor that was aided greatly by Ethan Vulerummer’s media companies. They had gone on a veiled attack against Chattam and conservative Islam itself by amplifying the story worldwide and running phony opinion polls to cook-up controversy and drive ratings. Then, Fascist Politicians joined in, saying Islam was an affront to “normal” values. Chattam got it from all sides but also received support from all sides. Marthia paid the young man a visit to tell him that Max and Big-E would circulate a paper among the Lion-fighting community—to be published in many of Vulerummer’s newspapers—saying they supported his decision while denouncing those that became involved in this private matter to score political points. “We might be able to use the example of Maurice to show Ronnie there’s a better way for him. That God has planned-in a special role for him”. Max and Big-E were non-committal to this but Coco enthusiastic. They were all silent for a few moments before Coco changed the subject. “I can’t get over how strange it feels to be going to a private luncheon with that evil man” she said, referring to Vulerummer. “Oh, but you can’t hold on to that baby” Marthia said passionately. “We going there to do a job and you gotta be warm to Mr. Ethan. That’s what we have signed on to. You gotta look for those parts in the man that are… human ”. Marthia spent the previous night having dinner with Max and Kerri Branghaue who had designated her as the team leader. The two women hit it off instantly. While Kerri enjoyed Max, and was a little freaked out by Big-E, she found Marthia to be a sheer fascination with great subtle personal power she used to control events without hardly being noticed. Kerri Branghaue wished she could’ve had a sister like Marthia Le Muffet to confide in. She had a natural wisdom that ran deep. And she possessed a good heart. The two weakest links in her team would be Coco and Sidney Luani. Both were outspoken women who didn’t like to be forced into unsavory business like a meeting with Ethan Vulerummer and then be told to be “nice girls”. Still, Marthia knew they would perform well. They would play a role they knew very well. It was really just a matter of the two of them deciding what they would where. Niether felt they had yet met a man they couldn’t charm. And when the two of them went at it in unison—as they had when they were single—there was a multiplier effect. Coco only wished they would have Robert Casoni there for support but Kerri Branghaue wanted to hold him back and away from Vulerummer’s attention. Max and Big-E would conduct business as usual and not become too impressed by anything. Jimmy Luani however was more impulsive and would chatter on ceaselessly if given the chance. But David Ohuna could cue him as needed while watching over the legal matters. Kerri Branghaue found no shortage of data files on him. Ohuna was well known in Columbia District and in Manhattan City as a legal strategist without ties to the particular political parties. He had been a legal mechanic and a man who came up with solutions nobody else could see. His deep and quiet personality intimated a kind of darkness that made a few people afraid of him although he was generally regarded warmly. He also seemed to possess a record without a scratch of ethical failure on it—a remarkable thing considering the places he conducted business. Kerri Branghaue would’ve liked to be in Hawaii herself to debrief her team after the meeting but considered it too big a risk. Vulerummer’s crack security would be all over them she believed. She didn’t want to provide any alert and get in the way of a perfect integration between him and the Lion-Fighters. By now some kind of description of her as well—along with a place on a watch list—was likely to be at the attention of these people. She was sure no pictures of her were taken during her foggy night attempt to intrude upon Vulerummer in Manhattan City. She had been prepared to kick out any camera that pointed at her during that confrontation. She didn’t do photographs. Being anywhere near her team in Hawaii was a poor risk to take. She could speak to them by a World Security Secure Phone she gave Marthia when they returned to the plantation on Maui later in the day. Max then asked his sister about the incident with the little Chihuahua dog and Little B. He was smiling. Big-E had called him and told him about “the alleged rape” of Chica supposedly carried out by Coco’s famously passive poodle dog. “I told Big-E that dog got hidden aggressions,” he said to his sister while casting a mischievous eye at his brother-in-law who was starting to get that giddy look again.

“Well, it turn out to be consensual between the two dogs”, Coco said in a tone to rebuff her brother’s insinuations. “When that crazy lady down the street tried to sue me over the pregnancy, Big-E searched the surveillance camera tape… Maxie, nobody tell you ‘bout all that? So anyways, we see the little Chihuahua in the picture. She came over to entice Little B. She put her backside right in his face!” “Oh, yeah...?” Max exclaimed and laughed deeply. Marthia was shaking her head. “…and that finished her nutty lawsuit”. Big-E—satisfied by his great detective work—spoke up; “Can you imagine…that woman was talkin’ $300,000. !” “She lucky she didn’t get all her hair pulled out by Baby Coco” Marthia said jovially. “Well”, Coco said a bit sadly, “it turn out there is still a chance of that comin’ to pass. I found out yesterday that the bitch still wanna extort $100,000.! I haven’t even got around to tellin’ Big-E. But she brought little Chica over yesterday and rang the doorbell. Now she saying she gonna put the dog and the puppies down unless I wanted to buy her. Right in my face she said; ‘I can barely stand the sight of this little slut now…but you can have her and the freakish pups she gonna deliver’! Right in my face she said this! “So I tell her; ‘bitch, how dare you come over to my house and use that tone with me? I want you to go home and find this book entitled, ‘People You Don’t Fuck With’, Then when you find it, go and look up the name Le Muffet!”. Max smiled proudly, he had personally taught his little sister when and how to say that very line when someone thought they were going to verbally abuse her. Then he said; “Good, put the dog down. Problem solved”. When he said that, Coco winced and the other three instantly knew that would never happen. “What kind of woman is that?” Marthia said, “She sound very unhappy to me”. “Robert found out what kind of woman that bitch is,” Coco replied. “ He researched her and found she one of them New Cristopians. She provide a lot of money to the cult and has been a chief supporter of their founder— some guy named Carl Manson. This Manson was in the penitentiary in upper New York doing time for manslaughter. He supposedly had some kind of revelation one day when he was in the shower room with other prisoners. He took up preachin’ and won himself an early release by converting people like my crazy neighbor over the internet.” Max frowned and spoke to Big-E in particular. “They let anyone move into Santa Barbara?” “As long as you got the money” he replied. Max said that a crazy lady like that wouldn’t last ten minutes in The Oakland before people ran her out. “And the plot keep getting’ thicker” Coco said. “The other night when Kerri Branghaue was talking to me on the phone, I asked her if they had made any progress in tracking down the men who attacked my business associates in Australia…” “Yeah, I meant to ask her about that too,” Max interrupted. “World Security in Europe caught them in Scandinavia of all places” Coco continued. “They interrogated ‘em and found out they were paid by somebody close to this Manson guy. He has apparently put me on his enemy list ‘cause I’ve been vocal in my support of The Precepts Of The Curriculum Program. He has all kind of strange involvements—nobody really know what he up to. They’s all like, super-Fascists…that’s what agent Branghaue told me. She said that I should tell Mr. Ethan all about what happened and ask him for some help in the matter. She said it would garner his trust in us if I asked him for a favor…in the right way.” “So what happened to those idiots?” Max asked and Coco replied they were brought back across the Atlantic and given over to Canadian Mounter Crime bosses. Her eyes widened a little. “Agent Branghaue doesn’t think they are among the living any longer.” “Man, these New Cristopians sound stupid”, Max said. “They kinda remind me of Fringe Lion…all messed up in the head and frothin’ at the mouth”. He and Big-E exchanged a smile. It was long considered to be the ultimate insult among professional Lion-fighters to compare someone to a Fringe Lion. As the Le Muffet jet streamed across the Pacific, Jimmy and Sidney Luani were relaxing in their bed after an early morning of making love as the multicolored sunrise filled the eastern horizon of I Kini Akua Plantation in Maui. Jimmy’s mother Veronica was in town and getting their boys off to school. She had them walking out the door and stopped outside her son’s bedroom as she was leaving. “Mejo” Veronica yelled, “I’m taking the boys now…don’t use it all up in the bed…you have your big meeting today and need all your juice!” Jimmy gasped and yelled back; “Mama, I ain’t doing nothing . We just waking up slow in here.”

“I hear the bed hitting the wall earlier” she yelled back. “David says you need to save something for your big meeting today, my son!” She laughed to herself and shot out the door. “She only really happy when she’s treating me like a fifteen-year old”, Jimmy said with consternation. Sidney had her head buried in the pillow trying to muffle her hysterical laughter. “I’m probably going to be just like that in twenty-years when we go and visit our boys and their wives” she said. Jimmy asked her if she was ready for their big day and she replied that she was. Kerri Branghaue had had a long conversation with her two days earlier and stressed how important it was for her to just act as she normally would in such a situation. Then she talked to Coco and the two decided the best course of action for them to take was to sex-up their appearances for the meeting. Coco and her had gone on an online shopping adventure together over the phone, so they could coordinate their dress. Their goal was to wow and hopefully distract Ethan Vulerummer with a bit of “slutty elegance”. Sidney asked her husband if he would be embarrassed if she wore something he might consider a bit to revealing. He said he had never been that way. “That’s why I married you to begin with” he said. “Why?” “Because you were a tall, long-legged, blond slut”, he said putting his hand high up one of long legs. “That’s the only reason?” she asked playfully. “…and because I knew you could handle El Grande and work him for two male children.” Jimmy laughed like a teenage boy. She giggled. “…and why else?” “Because you were my friend and I fell in love with you…and I knew you wouldn’t go crazy with my money”. He thought some more. “And because I knew you would be a good mother.” “…and why else?” Jimmy feigned exasperation. “Hey, that’s it. Mainly because you’re a sexy, long legged blond slut!”. Sidney jumped out of the bed feeling satisfied. She put a robe on and said she would go bring them some of the food his mother had made and then they could start getting ready. He called out to her saying she was supposed to say why she had married him. She paused and turned back for a moment. “I’ve just always had a thing for big dumb, rich guys who are easy to manipulate”. A sudden flash of her smile came with the after thought. “I like Oafies.” “Come back in here then Oafia, I got something that needs more manipulating.” She was out of the room and Jimmy leaned back in his bed and reflected on how lucky he was to have a wife like Sidney. Even though she could be a bossy bitch, their relationship just became better and better with each year. His heart throbbed with a recurrent burst of gratitude for all of the good things that had come to him in his life. “Thank you God, for making me one of the protected.” This short phrase, “one of the protected”, was introduced to Jimmy when he was ten-years old. An older boy had cornered him on the street and said he and his friends were going to come and “take you away from your Mama so you won’t be a panzone who embarrass his home boys”. The boy who accosted him was new in the local gang. He was given the task of bringing Jimmy Luani into the fold —“that weird kid with the Island daddy who left him”. They would make him a junior member when he turned twelve but were letting him know how things were going to be. He told his mother what had happen when he got home and she became enraged. Veronica Luani immediately called someone she knew that was connected to the adult leadership in Shades of Brown—the local gang in their section in the poorer eastern neighborhoods in The City of Angels, L.A. She insisted her son be considered and treated as, One of the protected. This wasn’t only a phrase, but a designation. Years earlier the gangs had adopted a form in which to mediate their differences. It was called, “The Council of the Hoods”. Leaders would get together incognito and even mask their voices as part of the ritual. They would try and work out their problems in a rational way. One thing they had agreed to was the adoption of this designation for the promising children coming up...that nobody would mess with them. The motto became; “We don’t eat our young, homes, and if somebody do, they don’t get the chance to do it twice!” So Jimmy Luani became designated as “one of the protected”. A good student even at ten years of age, he was also showing signs of becoming an amazing athlete. He was allowed to flourish unmolested by the wiles in the poorer patterns of value that were all around him growing up. He became a shining star and source of pride in his neighborhood although many were disappointed by his decision to abandon his football career to go into Lion-fighting. But when he came to dominate that sport and make millions of dollars a year, all was forgotten and he was more popular then ever. A big part of each Sunday in those neighborhoods was to gather at homes

and restaurants, have soapes and watch their homeboy superstar battalier add to his ever-growing total of “batted lion heads”. He had the district where he grew up officially designated “Shades of Brown”. The local park where he had honed so much of his athletic prowess was then renamed Luani Park. Tradesmen from the area were instrumental in the re-establishment of I Kini Akua Plantation in Maui—which in many ways became a satellite of the Shades of Brown district in L.A. The various produce was first marketed in L.A. through local venders. Local exconvicts were ran through David Ohuna’s “Back to Life” program there and lots of people from the neighborhood would enter a lottery for a chance to attend the summer party on Maui that followed a big community festival in the Shades of Brown District. These were events the Jimmy had yet to attend himself as they fell during the crucial end of the Professional Lion-fighting season when his All Asia team would be trying to wrestle away the championship from The Le Muffet Crew featuring Big-E White. Big-E wasn’t very popular in the eastern sections of The City of Angels. Anybody foolish enough to be walking around there with a bottle of Big-E White’s DRINK would be harassed. Sidney returned with a tray of food, took her robe back off and climbed back into bed with her husband. She liked to be naked when on those special occasions, she fed him breakfast in bed. “Thank you, baby”. Jimmy kissed her and then looked at the tray of food and frowned. There were three scrambled eggs with potatoes, onions and peppers, salsa, two pieces of French toast, two oranges, and a small bowel of hot cereal. “Is that all there was?” Jimmy asked. He was expecting more. His mother wasn’t known for cooking up less then a full amount of food. “No, I put the rest in the refrigerator.” Jimmy was slightly exasperated and asked her why. He was hungry. Sidney and him had been going at it since waking up to the crow of one of the roosters that had come in too close to the house before sunrise. “You shouldn’t be overfed today”, she answered him. He looked at her long, luscious body. “I guess I won’t be getting any more cooch either”. She shook her head. “David said that you had to treat today as if it were a match day”. Having his mother, his wife and David all in the house at the same time made Jimmy feel like he was in jail. He watched as his wife picked from his plate of food. “You bring me half a plate of food and then eat half of that!” She nodded plainly and he told her that it was cruel to send him into a meeting with the world’s richest man—on a half-filled stomach. “Not to mention with blue wavos…”. Sidney laughed. Nobody but her husband could complain in such a cute way. She was sure he half-believed he was a poor, deprived soul. This made Jimmy think about the night before Lion-fighting matches with the All Asia Team. They would have a ritual dinner together that was more like a final training session. Everybody would sit on their knees with straightened spines around a low table and pass around two plates of food. The first was simple brown rice, the second was raw vegetables. They would take little bits of it and then pass around a bottle with some unsweetened and slightly bitter concoction. “Tomorrow we will eat lion-heart!” they would say at the conclusion of their pre-match dinner/meeting. And it was true. Following a successful Lion-fighting match—which always included at least one dead Tall Lion—the beast’s heart would be removed and cut up before being placed into a wok and stir-fried along with the leftover rise and vegetables from the previous night’s supper. Then finally, the alcohol and other foods were unleashed and the entire club would sometimes spend hours partying around their caravan of four-wheel drives. Sydney dipped her tongue into the little bowl of syrup for the French toast and kissed Jimmy on the lips. “I did bring a special treat for you” she whispered to him in a luxurious voice. She pointed to a mound of cloth napkins at the very edge of the tray. He reached over and touched them and could feel a bottle underneath. When he pulled back the napkins there was a bottle of Big-E’s Drink sitting there seemingly to mock him. Sidney laughed hysterically and Jimmy had to as well. “That’s a good one, eh. First you feed me half a plate of food, then give me blue wavos, and now this. You in rare form this morning, baby.” “Don’t you think it will be fun to have Big-E and Coco here tonight? I can’t wait.” Fun was not the word Jimmy Luani would ever use to describe time spent with his rival of almost twentyyears. “I’m sure David and him will have a blast” he said. “It will be nice to see Coco.” Jimmy always liked his wife’s best friend—and all of The Le Muffet family— but he could never understand why a gregarious girl like that would marry Big-E White. Even during the time when they used to be part of the same group, Big-E was jokingly labeled as “the party animal” because he so wasn’t.

At Lord Rashling’s Castle, Ethan Vulerummer was watching a computer presentation provided by his man Jay Carroll. Over the prior two weeks, mass demonstrations by peaceful assemblies of progressive youths and others had begun to appear around the world. While the heads of his media units were instructed to ignore all such news, their initial strategy was beginning to backfire. The mainstream media was going to suffer a major loss of credibility if it were to continue and that would not only lesson the value of his holdings but ultimately help to drive people away from New Fascism. Carroll’s presentation contained all of the recent updates as well as a scenario of possible ways of nipping this thing in the bud. “Hit teams” were being put together in Canada, Spain, South Africa and other areas where countries where World Security was still being run by Fascist sympathizers. In Manhattan City and Columbia District, Fascist leaders were intimating that, “decisions had to be made”. Many were openly calling out within their own circles for Ethan Vulerummer to, “step up to the plate” and coordinate a unified Fascist response. It seemed all that was lacking was a go-ahead from him to, “crack down” on the leaders of the demonstrations. Their scheme consisted of a subtle, highly-planned massacre of the demonstration leaders’ family members; their wives, children, parents. Public humiliations, poisonings, pre-arranged “accidents and random acts of violence” that would occur “off the books of accountability” through the Fascist element in World Security and their media counterparts. It was a radical plan and his people knew Ethan Vulerummer liked radical plans. But while Vulerummer considered this to be “a final solution”, he was telling people to take it very slow. If they were to de-stabilize things to a greater extent, it might turn out even worst for them then it now appeared to be. Jay Carroll suggested that perhaps today’s meeting with the Lion-fighters and subsequent announcement of an exhibition match following the honorary celebration in Columbia District, would add a feeling of more unity between the left and right wings of the political, social landscape. While the Lion-fighters themselves were largely apolitical, two of the women—Coco Le Muffet and the Le Muffet matriarch, Marthia, were known progressive Democrats—each of whom had spoken out against New Fascism in the past. He told his boss that the wife of Big-E White was especially volatile. “She’s made enemies of that Karl Manson guy back in New York State and has pissed off leadership at a big fashion house in France….Gloryline… I think it’s called. The other woman is the wife of Maxim Le Muffet and is apparently one of those Mother Mary types. She gives away his money as fast as he can make it.” Vulerummer became curious as to whether he could charm the two women and improve their view of New Fascism. He told Carroll to launch some stories about improvement programs being put into effect among the financially challenged—and also to “cook up some hope” that efforts were underway for opening up a few new sections of the wildlands for development to ease overcrowding along the fringes. The Fascist Party always had a few of these “hope builders” ready for use to boost Public Relations. Vulerummer used both “hope builders” and “fear makers” to manipulate public opinion through his vast control of North American media. The Fascist leader had hoped for some days away from politics during his stay in Hawaii. He’d hoped to spend the bulk of his meeting with the Lion-fighters regaling in their tidbits from the glorious sport. But Jay Carroll was reminding him that today’s meeting would be—after all—a political event. The legalities of the exhibition match had been concluded between Carroll and the advisor for the Lion-fighters, David Ohuna. It would be held at The Sky Atrium that was built into the partially exposed roof above the ninetieth story of the V Corp building in Manhattan City. The Sky Atrium was put together as a nature center with many plants, trees, rocks and a man-made stream that flowed into it from a brief waterfall. Some trails and caves gave it a maze-like quality. It became the scene of the “bunny hunt”—hosted annually by Vulerummer for The Seven Lions of Private Control. The Lion-fighters and their wives met up in a hotel room in Honolulu and renewed acquaintances. Coco and Sidney were dressed very provocatively in short skirts with low-cut, sleeveless tops and adorned with their finest jewelry. They planned on taking the seats at the table closest to Vulerummer and be almost shameless in a feigned attempt to curry favor. Marthia was dressed very conservatively to provide a more adult counterpart to Coco and Sidney. She would aim for the seat at the table that was opposite him. Max, Big-E, and Jimmy wore business attire and would dominate the center of the table and center stage as well. David—no stranger to meeting such as this—had suggested the table placements. He told them to be ready to maneuver to gain the desired seating and offered a few tips on just how to go about this. Vulerummer would no doubt want the men closest to

him but Coco and Sidney could easily get their spots. When the leader of the Fascists gazed across the table, he wanted him to feel the gaze of Marthia. David Ohuna wasn’t expected to sit down with them all but if there was space he wanted Jimmy to insist that he stay and dine with them. He wanted as much face time as possible with Vulerummer so that he might gain more insight into him. He had plotted all of this with Kerri Branghaue. At World Security Regional Headquarters in LA, she was in the office of her boss Eric “Brick” Smith. They were discussing the recent demonstrations against New Fascism that were taking place worldwide. As a regional chief, he would be responsible for dealing with the inevitable outbreaks of anarchy that would pop up although the demonstrations were being billed as non-violent. He was wary that Fascists would try and discredit the prodemocracy movements by inciting violence and then be blown up and twisted by V Corp media writers. This would be standard operating procedure for them in such a situation. He expressed his hope to his deputy that the event in Hawaii might yield some information they could use in this respect. “Vulerummer might tip his hand”, he said to Kerri Branghaue. She asked him what he though he might say that could help them. “You never know” Smith answered thoughtfully. “If he were to relax, he might elude to something we know nothing about. He might say to one of them…’stay away from the Bay City bridge on Thursday, I hear there might be trouble over there’. He might say anything…”. She didn’t think Vulerummer would ever be that careless but she knew well what Smith was getting at. He turned and gazed out his office window which was built with mirrored glass. On the building next to them, window cleaners were fixed on a rigging cleaning the window glass of a more ordinary variety. One of them was waving to somebody inside behind the glass that was out of Smith’s view. He looked back at his deputy. “A lot this depends on how ready your group is today”. She assured him that she had spent hours talking to the entire crew about such things. She went on to praise David Ohuna. “If I’d have sought to insert a level four operator into that position, I couldn’t have found a better guy. Brick, he’s astonishing. And a natural occurrence to boot! He’s incredibly perceptive…and he blends into the woodwork like some kind of forest creature with a natural camouflage!” “I’d like to meet him”, Smith said with a bit more enthusiasm then usual. “You have met him. He’s been at a meeting you held some years back. But he makes it a point to be the guy at such meetings that you never remember. He’s been in a meeting where Vulerummer was present, too”. Smith shook his head. He’d been around for so long that he could hardly remember half of the meetings he’d held or attended. The many people involved were like those you pass in the street. They only popped back into mind when cued by fresh circumstances; where something you remember about them presents a value and they re-enter the mental imagery of here and now. He expressed to Kerri Branghaue how wrong he had been at first when they decided to try and use the Lion-fighters. “I was thinking these guys were like animals themselves”, he told her. “I mean, look at how they make a living. I’ve never thought much of Lion-fighting to be honest. I figured we could manipulate something in one of them, and maybe get Vulerummer hurt or killed as a result. But now…”. Smith was at a loss to explain these people. His deputy understood everything about them he was missing. She too had thought of people involved in Lion-fighting as naturally downscale. Among educated people, the sport was considered to be a kind of blood-letting—a thing the lower classes used unknowingly as an appeasement for their natural violence. But having now studied them thoroughly through their deepening interactions, she liked them all personally and had a respect for the subtle but professional manner in which they carried out their commitments. She had them set now—like hidden bear traps—and could only hope Vulerummer might unknowingly stumble into one. The Lion-fighters and their wives were talking about the old days as they waited to leave for the forty-five minute drive out to Lord Rashling’s castle on the coast. The bulk of the conversation centered around Jimmy and Big-E. They talked of their “war stories” fighting fringe lion on the outskirts of Southern California the summer after graduating from high school. “They say the fringe lion are getting more stupid”, Jimmy said. He had read how cutbacks in the wildlands preservation budget were causing more inbreeding. They weren’t being properly rotated into new areas. This

and the fact there had always been a fair amount of cannibalism, was producing a “dumbing-down” effect in the 80 year-old, genetically engineered species that was plagued by abnormal behavior from the outset. “Did you see that thing on the news? I couldn’t believe it! One came all the way into downtown Dallas eh. They never used to be like that! Some lady is out walking her dog at daybreak and there’s this retarded fringe cat gnawing on a metal light post. The lady walks right by and it never even notices her. Thirty minutes later when somebody came to shoot it, the damn thing was still chewing away and making these painful screaming sounds…and blood was dripping down the pole. Everybody was grossed-out.” “They always been stupid.” Max offered. “They depend on ‘group think’…five of ‘em together only got the mental agility of two and a half brains.” Big-E asked Jimmy if he remembered the one back in the day that had fallen from the ledge and impaled itself on a spiny tree shank fifty-feet below. Jimmy started laughing as he remembered. He told Max about the time he and Big-E had gone out together without any spearmen, and ran into five fringe lion. They batted two down and two others ran away. A fifth cat had not joined in the battle against the two young men but was instead chasing a bee around—pawing and leaping at it. Then, left alone by the fleeing lions, it staggered about like a drunkard before going over the edge of the precipice. The men laughed but the women winced and flashed disgusted looks. “It’s just getting worst though…the whole situation”, said Coco. She commented on the fringes north of Santa Barbara. “More and more people are being forced to the tent camps. Only now they went and made ordinances against there being more then fifteen people in any one area. So they line up further and further down obscure dirt roads the city bulldozers cut straight into patches of the wildlands for them. That puts ‘em father away from the resources and leaves them vulnerable to the cat attacks. Twenty people been killed in the last year….and twenty more fringe runners along with them. Those idiots keep coming up from LA with their hundred dollar bills to coax the fools into their games. But, since it add to the tourism money, nobody says anything.” “Nobody except Coco Le Muffet”, Jimmy said laughing. “Big-E, how many fights has your girl gotten you into over the years? Back in the day, it seemed like every time the four of us went out, you ended up having to deck some dude who got into it with her!” “That’s why I decided to move her out of the Bay Area, Oafy”, Big-E replied, smiling at his wife. Coco defended herself. “One time! And that’s because some asshole was talking shit about Robert!” “We never let anyone talk shit about Robert” Sidney said plainly. “Even when he’d say it wasn’t a problem and not to worry about it”. Jimmy said he remembered at least two more episodes when Big-E had to step in to defend his outspoken wife. Marthia changed the subject. “Do you all know how many times the six of us been together in all these years?” They each knew that this was only the third time they had been together. The last time was at Jimmy and Sidney’s wedding and the first time was the night of the big party at the newly built Le Muffet compound in The Oakland. It was there that Marthia had played matchmaker. “You two were just the cutest boys,” she said to Jimmy and Big-E. “I just knew that you’d be perfect for my girls!” She said this and smiled warmly thinking how everything had turned out. The time had come to leave for the meeting. They had a large limo waiting for them outside of the hotel. Sidney and Marthia—the least publically known of the famous group—went out in front of the others. They would attempt to ward off any photographers that might be present. There was one. He had been alerted by a hotel staff person. The two women spotted him and asked if he’d heard anything about celebrities being there at the hotel. “The Lion-fighters?” asked the guy. “Yes!” Sidney said in a bubbly, screechy tone of voice. She bounced up and down excitedly. “I wanna get at that Maxim!” Marthia said and began to move her hips a little. “I wanna find out if he really is all of that”. “You mean if he has all of that!” Sidney said and the two began giggling like crazy teenagers. The photographer was laughing with them and at them. He didn’t usually see groupies this old. Marthia told him a bellhop had said they were conducting a meeting in a conference room. She pointed down a corridor from the main lobby where they were standing. “Say, is there any chance you would be interested in knocking on the conference door and telling them there are a couple of fine women who wanted to join them. You can say you’ll introduce us all!”

This sounded like an excellent plan to the guy. He might manage to get a scandalous photo worth some real money. He quickly agreed and was off—telling Sidney and Marthia to give him a sixty-second head start before following him to the conference room. He disappeared just as Coco and the men were coming through. Their limo pulled out and a local news van pulled into the vacated space. Word was out that “The Three Greatest Lionfighters” were in town for a meeting with “The World’s Richest Man”—a natural top journalism get . Nobody knew just where it was supposed to take place, but rumors had been swirling all week that Vulerummer was staying in the private quarters at Lord Rashling’s Castle—which was something state park officials adamantly denied as it was not supposed to be available to rent. On the way over there, Max ran them all through a list of things to keep in mind. “Now we got to stay focused on feeling the honor of getting to meet the great Ethan”, he said in a commanding tone. Coco and Sidney—whom had never liked Max’s “boss” tone-of-voice— rebelled a bit. “Even though he a Fascist asshole…” Coco said with overt disrespect. “Not to mention a cold blooded killer” Sidney added. Marthia reminded all of them they had met that type of person before; they knew from experience how they were supposed to act. “Just keep in mind that Mr. Ethan was an innocent little baby at one time. And maybe the reason why we here is to coax him back into the light in some little way.” Coco and Sidney both considered this quietly. The men didn’t. Kerri Branghaue and David had told them a lot more then they told the women. Their limo came down a private road into the State Park that housed Lord Rashling’s Castle. They stopped in the underground parking lot and made their way to the tramway that ran beneath the grounds. Both the tramway and the private quarters were closed off to the public for VIP use. The people that worked regularly there were also kept away. They were told a special maintenance crew would be working in the section for a week. Vulerummer had paid high officials a large some and made offers they could not refuse to gain their compliance. The six followed a security man who led them into a carrier that would deliver them to a position below what had once been Lord Rashling’s “War Room”. When they climbed the stairs and came into the entry, they had their first glimpse of Ethan Vulerummer—who was flanked on each side by Jay Carroll and David Ohuna. Big-E White came in last. He calmly and slowly raised his gaze to the eyes of Vulerummer to take in a first impression. Paul Cavalet had taught him a particular method for gaining insight into people and situations via the first impression. When Big-E’s eyes met the persona of Ethan Vulerummer, he saw something shockingly diabolical behind the smiling face that was being introduced to them by Max who led the group in. The Lion-fighter in him, if set loose with bat and blade, would’ve instantly smashed Vulerummer’s head in and slit his throat on the spot. It was trained to kill the beast as quickly as possible. But Big-E was in a business suit and he knew that this would be a Lion-fight on a completely different level. He feigned shyness and shook the hand of the leader of the Fascists, telling him what an honor it was to meet him. Vulerummer was ecstatic. In a display of true charisma, he smiled and said how he felt like a little boy surrounded by his heroes. He explained to the group just how all of this had been initiated. “I usually live a very modest life. But last summer my wife told me I should do something for myself. She asked me if there was something special I wanted. What came to mind was my fantasy of being beside of the three great Lion-fighters.” He added. “I realize how silly it all must appear”. Vulerummer was lying of course. He hadn’t even seen his wife for several years. She’d spent the summer in her apartment as usual in a mild alcohol and drug induced stupor. While he certainly did have the fantasy of being a Lion-fighter, Vulerummer’s main intent was to use the exhibition to bond with the millions of working class guys that followed the sport. He would need as many votes as possible from this demographic when he announced his run for the presidency a few days following the event. “Every man should have a fantasy or two he gets to fulfill”, said Maxim with understanding. Jay Carroll and David Ohuna—each in his own way—were all smiles and pleased with how things were starting off. When his boss suggested they adjourn to “the war room”, Carroll opened the door for them. Lord Rashling’s conference center had been converted to a dining area for this luncheon. The giant map table where the dictator once gathered his generals had been removed and a large rectangular dining table was installed in its place. The room itself was rectangular except for a curved section that bulged out from it and contained a small table and pair of armchairs where Rashling would hold private conversations with individuals. A bay window opened the area to a view of the breaking coastline and the ocean beyond. From this vantage point one could see a corner of the large, modern parking lot down below where park visitors were put onto an overhead tramway that brought them up the many steps to the front gardens of the huge estate. Flower pots with

rich tropical blooms were set everywhere outside of window boxes on this edge of the complex that was aligned with a narrow canyon dropping down from the sloops above. It was all very lovely but contrasted sharply with the interior of the room. It was painted to mimic old yellowing walls and rubbed out with various chemicals to maintain a patina that caused it to look austere for the tourists who came here. It was after all a grim place. It was supposed to look that way. Rashling and his men had spent many work days there planning the liquidation and cover-up of tens of millions of people that were killed during The Last War. Ordinarily, the walls featured old photographs of various concentration camps throughout the world where human beings were processed before being killed and cremated. Other photographs showed “lion feasts” where Tall Lions had been placed in mass to raid small villages where guns were not allowed. Others showed huge hospital wards where hundreds of sick people lay on blankets ready to be ushered into death by “finisher drugs” following the introduction by Rashling troops of pathogens into the water systems in various

neighborhoods. All of these pictures had been removed and replaced by bright water color paintings of scenesfrom “the age of Victory” preceding Rashling’s time. The room had been converted into a “happy place” where happy rich people could have a happy luncheon with other happy rich people. One decorative element in “the war room” was left untouched by Vulerummer. Two of the earliest model airplanes hung from wires from the ceiling in one corner. The planes could actually be flown on tethers but probably never had been. They were replicas of the fighter planes of the era. Jimmy, Max and Big-E paused to look at these as Coco and Sidney came in beside Vulerummer as he walked to the head of the table. “Oh Mr. V” said Coco in her best little girl voice, “Could we sit next to you?” Vulerummer chuckled. The two were dressed in their expensive little outfits featuring short skirts and tops barely held up by tiny spaghetti straps above the full reveal of sumptuous breasts. They looked like high-end hookers to him. “As long as it is alright with your husbands” he said graciously looking toward Jimmy.

He motioned back and said, “oh…please” and excitedly began telling the others how he had actually flown one of these types of model planes as a kid. He said that someone had come up with one but none of them knew anything about tethers—that were used to control the flights in a circular path and land the planes in one piece. All they had was fuel and a small battery but they had gotten it started and decided to launch it up the pitched roof of a house. The plane took off but quickly went into a nose-dive and almost hit an ice cream vender on the other side of the street. While everybody smiled at this story, Vulerummer’s ear was muffled by the sound of Coco’s voice. She said how honored she was to meet a man like him. Sidney and her flanked him; almost pushing him into his seat at the head of the table as they enveloped the richest man in the world with the mixing scents of their perfumes and vision of their soft, pampered skin. Both wore perfectly applied makeup on their faces that set off eager eyes. Sidney’s mouth was falling open like she was anticipating an exotic jackfruit; her straightened hand covered the table and pointed toward Vulerummer’s mid-section, as it seemed to be slowly moving forward. Coco made hand gestures too as she uttered words of deference to Ethan Vulerummer. At a given point, the two pairs of fingers on her upturned hand spread open almost imperceptibly the way a woman’s legs do at certain times. He was all smiles and felt a hardening up down below as the thought crossed his mind of how he would like to have these two run as naked prey at the annual “Bunny Hunt”. He’d seen this game played before, but never so well. When they were nineteen, Jean D’Soul had schooled Coco and Sidney on how to become intensely beguiling. She would bring them along to many meetings such as this and let them practice. Once, one of the old men was so charmed that he asked the two to walk across the lane to a jewelry shop and pick out something nice for themselves. When Jean stepped in to forbid this, the young women didn’t pretend to pout—they really did pout. But Jean later explained to them that she wasn’t training them to be prostitutes. She wanted only for them to be aware of the skills such women employ and develop more self-confidence. She wanted them to know the powers they possessed at that time in their lives so that when they became older and those powers began to decline, they could transmute this force into something more valuable—instead of losing it altogether. The rest of the group began filing in around the table. Big-E and Jimmy took places next to their wives. Marthia sat down in the seat opposite Vulerummer who expected Max to take that symbolic position as the leader of the group. Instead he sat down at the corner of the table next to the Matriarch of the Le Muffet family. Jay Carroll and David Ohuna stood back toward the entry. Jimmy said; “David, aren’t you going to join us?” He turned to Vulerummer who’d seen Luani’s attorney shrug. “Mr. Vulerummer, I was hoping David could dine with us. He still has to explain the contract to me.” “Of course!” Vulerummer said in a commanding voice. “Please join us David.” His smile was warm and welcoming. During the hour before the Lion-fighters and their wives arrived. He’d sat down with Ohuna and Carroll to go over the fine points of the agreement for the exhibition. Ohuna had communicated with the other attorneys and gained their compliance. Vulerummer liked him from the outset—they had some associates in common in Manhattan City. He suspected Ohuna was a good Fascist deep down inside although the man claimed to be politically agnostic. Jay Carroll didn’t like him at all. Instantly he’d saw David get between the boss and him. He had this smile that would blacken to a point of brilliance in a hot white flash of light. The man was formidable and Carroll resented it and didn’t want to leave Vulerummer alone with him lest he become seduced. The boss had already become charmed by him and when Vulerummer was charmed by something he became more vulnerable. Carroll glanced at David with flinty eyes. He could see a whisper of white light appear in the smiling blackness of the man’s soul as he turned his head a tiny bit in response. He motioned for David to take the last open position at the table and said he would go and have the waiter bring an additional setting. Carroll left the room to go listen in on the luncheon via ease-dropping equipment that he had had installed. The servers began to fill the table with platters of appetizers. Jimmy saw the arrival of Oysters prepared “Manhattan Style”—filled with great care after their shells had been soaked in a fine liquor. He began to fill up his plate unabashedly until his wife told him to save a few for everybody else which caused a boyish look of selfcontinuousness to appear on his face. Vulerummer insisted he eat to his heart’s content. Jimmy Luani was his personal favorite among Lion-fighters. While Big-E While was remarkable in his precision as a Battalier owing to his substantial training in the martial arts, Jimmy was just plain ferocious and able to charge and run faster then any man his size. He never dug in to fight a Tall Lion on even ground. And he kept his blade in its sheath—making him one of only a few “two handed battaliers”. The additional force brought to bear caused a loud, distinctive thud.

With the adversary knocked out but still standing for a moment, Jimmy would grab his blade ceremoniously and slit the Lion’s throat in a huge sweeping motion. Then he would puff out his chest and strut about like a fighting cock for a few moments if he wasn’t under any pressure from additional Lion. It all made for a great show and Vulerummer loved it. The day his other guest, Maxim Le Muffet had gone down as a battalier, Vulerummer was deeply depressed. It was clear to him he’d never again get to witness such a man in action again. Like everybody else who closely followed the sport, he felt Max was on an entirely different level then any of the others. He had had all of the precision of Big-E White and all of the speed and ferocity of Jimmy Luani. While his total figures for “killed Lion” would’ve been about the same, the “what ifs” surrounding conjecture of the numbers of “batted Lion-heads” and “slit Lion throats” Max would’ve compiled, were in sharp agreement—his records would’ve stood for generations to come. But on that depressing day, Max had met up with a Tall lion as much a giant in his species as he was in his. For Vulerummer—who had impressed them with his great knowledge of their sport—to be here with the three now was an experience quite enthralling to him—it could only be surpassed by joining them on the field of action. He asked the three Lion-fighters to be honest with him. “Won’t I just look like a fool in the midst of you guys?” Big-E spoke up before the others; “We all run that risk. But, from what I’ve seen from your TV people, they plan to keep it light and put the emphasis on physical fitness. If that’s the case, I think it’ll work out. Since you’re sponsoring the event—and putting it out on regular TV—I think everything will turn out fine.” “That brings up my big question” Max said. “Are we going to actually kill a lion? You can’t do that on regular TV.” “The plan going in is to just box with the lions” Vulerummer explained. “Now if we get into a situation where we have to kill one of the cats, then that’ll be OK. I want it to be a live broadcast so that any killing of a lion is there to be seen. In a taped situation they might force us to obscure that.” Coco suddenly felt a bit sick to her stomach. They were almost ready to be done with the whole wicked sport once and for all. That she would have to go through even one more of these “games” between men and the bestial carnivores, was unsettling. “Mr. Vulerummer? I must confess I’ve never been a great fan of all of this. I was raised with it and have gotten used to it. But I really hate all of that blood! Isn’t there anyway to spare the children who watch this from that?” Vulerummer smiled softly at her. “I realize that in a format other then pay-per-view, more children are apt to become exposed to an actual lion killing, but this won’t happen as part of any plan. We mainly want to chase the beasts around some and let the men spar with them. I’ll just be an odd-looking bystander, mostly hiding behind Max. Everyone agrees that two Tall Lions against the four of us is not a real match, only an exhibition. I would be surprised if there was any blood at all that will be picked up by the cameras. It should all be fairly docile.” As he said this, Marthia noticed what an expert liar the man was. Jimmy had a bemused look on his face and Max was looking down at his plate of food trying to hold back a smile. In a real match, lions who were as outmatched as these two would be, would simply flee from the field of action; they’d run away. In an enclosure such as that in which the match would be held, the lions would have to fight. And if they fought, they would have to be killed. They could just chase them around from a safe distance—which they would for a while. But a time would come when one of the battaliers would be forced to crack some Lion skull. Max wasn’t going to run the batted lion through however. He asked Vulerummer if he’d been working with the spear, “just in case the situation did call for it”. “Oh yes” he said. “I’ve gotten a mechanical fighting lion and am up to 65% on the heart thrusts”. He said this robustly and then tried to temper his tone for the women. “Of course, this is definitely not something we’re expecting”. The Lion-fighters all shook their heads in agreement trying to make all of this sound softer. The truth was that Vulerummer would get the first shot at a stunned lion. If he missed the heart, Max would finish it off. There would be no throat-slitting—that was too gruesome for regular TV. But it was understood, unofficially, that they weren’t going to simply chase fleeing Lions around like clowns either. Ordinarily, Coco would’ve spoken up harshly to such a clear farce, but she was supposed to be playing the role of “naïve and nubile” and coming on strong would fly in the face of this. Instead, she commented to Sidney on what a good man Mr. Vulerummer was. She looked at him adoringly. “You remind me of my daddy” she said precociously. “He always told me, ‘baby, we never hurt Lions unless they try and hurt us. You’re like that too, sir!”

The men seemed to be on the verge of losing it. They never heard Coco sound this naïve. David frowned. He didn’t like the way things were going and spoke up to shift the focus. “At any rate, I think we all know the first priority here is that no human blood is spilled. That’s the important thing.” Everybody was in agreement on this point and nodded their heads. Vulerummer now knew they were all on the same page as far as how the match was to go down. He would get his shot at a lion heart. His cameras would record it and send it out live through his media network. If he missed his shot he would still be seen as a man who had gone into the field of action with the greatest of the Lionfighters and his reputation among the million of fans of the sport would greatly enhance his run for the presidency. As he gazed out across the table he began to feel as if he was rapidly bonding with the men and their wives. As the lunch was served, he chatted amicably with all of them. They were a breath of fresh air compared to the sort of people he was usually involved with. The conversation turned to politics with Ethan Vulerummer explaining the basic Fascist worldview to his guests. He knew he was sitting with mostly progressive Democrats but found them eager to learn more about the strong parental guidance inherent in Fascism. He expounded on their design and core belief that individuals flourish best in sturdy groups with a well defined, authoritative chain-of-command. He looked across the table to Marthia and brought up her own work as a community organizer in The Oakland. “Mrs. Le Muffet, I imagine many of the people you work have had trouble functioning in the world. The strong program you offer to them helps to take away the burden of personal decision-making that many of them—for different reasons—aren’t able to handle well.” Marthia considered this. “Yes, it’s true the people have their troubles!” Vulerummer quickly rejoined before she could add anything to what she had said. “What the Fascists say is; ‘why force the poor among us beyond their capacity?’. Isn’t it better they be sheltered by strict corporate controls that paint out the lines of their duties for them in a clear fashion that shields them from the stress of modern life?” Marthia heard this and remembered how at the age of twelve, she had accompanied a neighbor lady down to the government building to help her get signed up. From the lobby of the building actual lines had been painted on the floors leading to the various offices. An attendant would ask people coming in what their special needs were. For food assistance, you followed the red line. For medical assistance you followed the white line. And if you qualified for cash assistance you followed the green line. She remembered a man who became very frustrated and yelled; “what color line we take to find a decent job and a way out of this shit hole?” She remembered how everybody there standing in the lines roared with laughter and it made her smile. “I see your point, Mr. Vulerummer”. Marthia said, staidly sitting up in her chair. In her mind she was thinking how the corporate Fascists had invisible lines for many that were painted from the cradle to the edge of the wildland tent encampments. Jimmy Luani was thinking in a similar track but from a different perspective. “Last week, I told my wife there were duties she needed to do more often. So, she gets pissed, goes and gets a can of spray paint….and paints a line with an arrow on the wall next to our bed that points to the bathroom!” Nobody could believe he had just said that—especially Sidney. They all blushed. Vulerummer thought it was perfectly hilarious that he should make such a joke and even wondered if it might be true. He had a big smile and looked at Sidney questioningly. “That’s so not true! Jimmy gets everything he wants. That’s how I was raised.” She tilted forward with her head turned toward their host and away from her husband who was looking down at the table, muffling a smile and slowly shaking his head at the crazy way she had said everything. She flashed a suggestive gaze at Vulerummer and let foot slide over beneath the table until it was up against his. He liked the shape of her breasts as they filled out the flattering low cut top she wore. He didn’t stare though but straightened up and addressed Jimmy. “She’s quite a woman you have”, Vulerummer said with admiration. Jimmy looked at him with an exaggerated expression on his face and nodded before glancing back down at the table to slowly shake his head back and forth again. “You don’t know the half of it” he said a little comically. Sidney responded by looking at Coco kind of dumbly like she wasn’t sure she knew what he was getting at. “Jimmy”, Vulerummer said. “Am I right that you’re from the east part of LA?” “Yes sir” Jimmy said. “I was born and mostly grew up there except that my dad is Hawaiian and I spent time here with him too. I’m one of the few, one of the proud, Chucowaiins. And now my boys are Chucowhitewaiins! “But Eastcity is a big part of who I am. I spent the biggest time there with my mom. Our section of town is called Shades of Brown.”

Vulerummer commented that it sounded like a very vibrant place and Jimmy laughed and said that was especially true considering all of the World Security helicopters that were always buzzing around. “No, I’m just kidding. It’s really a great place. They even named the park after me! We started hosting a big fiesta there in the summer. I’ve only got to see video ‘cause, so far, I’m always working. But Sidney brings my boys and everybody really parties. Let me extend an invitation to you, Mr. Vulerummer…I mean, if you’re in the area at that time… swing by. Sidney will be there and take you around. You’ll be in good hands”. “If you come, I’ll come”, Coco said excitedly to their host. “I haven’t gotten to go yet.” Vulerummer now felt Coco’s foot touching his as her and Sidney exchanged a quick little glance. He was starting to get the impression that these were two women who liked to get together and maybe bring a strong man they could trust into the mix. He could pick up the scent of “kinky” a mile away and thought he might just like to take them up on the offer. “I often spend some time in LA during the summer” he said. “The wives of Lion-fighters get put on the back-burner that time of year” Coco said matter-of-factly. “Now, do the three of you tune into the matches?” Marthia said they made it a point not to. “I’ve always avoided that”, she said. “On the day Maxim met his match and was almost killed, I didn’t find out about it for hours.” This brought a slightly somber pall over the table. Vulerummer finally said with real earnestness that he remembers that day as one of the most depressing of his life. “It was for all of us”, Coco said softly and Jimmy along with Big-E especially, sounded off in agreement. Max had become used to this sort of thing and had a pat response. “But we all came through the other end of it pretty damn good!” he said cheerfully. “And that’s why you’ll always be the king of the Lion-fighters”, Vulerummer said and the others raised their voices in agreement. Marthia wanted to change the subject. She asked the leader of the Fascists what his stand was on the opening up of the wildlands. This was, year in and year out, the issue of greatest concern among voters. The Democrats considered this to be an almost universal remedy for all that was wrong in the world—an intelligent expansion that would bring new opportunity and ease the rapidly crowded cities and suburban areas. The Fascists liked things as they were. Many held title to prime spaces and were paid subsidies to keep the huge swaths of real estate closed to development and habitation. When populations lived beyond the private control of Fascist corporatism, the wealthy saw a reduction of the style of life they were used to. Without a large service sector, they would have to wait longer for their needs and desires to be met. A rapid opening up of the wildlands would produce a colossal shift as lower and middle class people saw their dreams come afire. “Well, I worry that if expansion and development come too quickly, they’ll be an accompanying ‘baby boom’. We don’t want to go in there and open things up only to have to go back in later to shut it down.” Vulerummer confided that there were many among the hard right wing Fascists that felt any opening of the wildlands be accompanied by mandatory sterilization or at the least, forced birth control. This was a touchy subject. It brought memories of Lord Rashling and The Last War. Most people believed that any kind of forced sterilization would set off riots and cause an unraveling of society. In the US prior to the Last War, a Fascist movement to sterilize people thought to be undesirable had occurred in secret. There was even talk that a gene to sway the species toward socialism was loose in the pool and had to be wiped out. A few of the hard right wing Fascists had lobbied for a special congressional committee to investigate this claim but then Rashling had taken over control of Europe, invaded parts of central and South America, and began biological/intellectual cleansing in earnest. “Forced sterilization is ungodly!” Marthia said without a trace of surreptitious. “And I agree wholeheartedly” Vulerummer said with a long sigh. “Sadly, there are those in the far right and far left that would like to shape our species through science to fit their own picture of how Mankind should be.” In reality Vulerummer didn’t believe in God and did feel that it was up to elite individuals to use science to shape the species. He believed in a future filled with digital “designer baby” showrooms where people with a qualifying parental credit score could build their progeny from the test tube up before uploading into the womb. He thought an accompanying set of laws preventing “illegal intrusion” by undesirable biological “border jumpers” would be very much in order. People not wanting to abort these illegal fetuses would be deported to a new colony at the south pole which society would create as a kind of cold storage locker for biological components that might be used in a variety of ways.

This was nothing Vulerummer could speak to these people about. His duty as the leader of the Fascists meant he had to keep mainstream people inside a protective bubble brought by the strict propaganda broadcast throughout his vast, monopolized media empire. David watched and marveled at what an expert liar Ethan Vulerummer was. His “mask” was very fluid. An honest person shows signs in his demeanor of normal uncertainty about what is ultimately true. A liar attempts to mask that uncertainty and a distortion is slightly or greatly visible—even when a liar has convinced himself that his lies are the truth. David knew that what made a liar expert was the realization of this mask and the ability to “make it move” in a natural way. The very idea of forced sterilization turned Jimmy Luani’s stomach. “I think all of that is so fucked up!” he said and his wife nodded in agreement when his words came out. “I mean, I’m a little of this and a little of that. And my boys are even more so. The guy who once sat in this place would’ve sterilized us right out of existence. We’d a never got born at all, eh!” An earnest, serious look passed over Vulerummer. “And what a shame that would’ve been!” He said that it was for this reason that people needed to go slow about unleashing all that the opening up of the wildlands would bring. “If the wrong Neanderthal eggheads get loose, there’s no telling what might happen!” Vulerummer’s guests had never heard this term before and had curious smiles on their faces as they silently wondered just what their host had meant by this. None of them asked, but nodded their heads in agreement as if he had said something very wise. As they finished their meal, the Lion-fighters became caught up in telling their stories about the many bouts with the great beasts. Vulerummer was like a little boy listening to the glorious, manly encounters he could only dream about. At a certain point he remarked that he would trade everything to have lived their lives. Coco and Sidney both protested this like little girls who liked their daddy just the way he was. “They say that money can’t bring one the fulfillment of the deepest desires…and it’s true. About all it can get me is an opportunity to stand in back of the real warriors, your husbands.” “Well you keep up the trainin’ on the spear and we may have to bring you in fo a real match” Max said goodnaturedly. Vulerummer chuckled at the thought of that. “Even if it were possible I’m afraid the people around me would never let that happen. They keep the old meal ticket pretty much cloistered up!” And with that he pulled the Deep Water Communicator from the breast pocket of his coat and summoned Jay Carroll. The contracts were brought in once the servers had cleared the table. Jimmy asked David to interpret a few pieces of legal ease for him and after a few minutes the paper work was complete. “I hope you don’t mind” Vulerummer said suddenly, “but I’ve had members of the media assembled over in the Rashling Castle Press Chamber to make an announcement.” This caught them all by surprise. Nobody had mentioned a press conference. Ordinarily this would’ve caused a lot of irritation among the prominent group but as they were involved in role-playing, they had to muffle their feelings. None-the-less, Big-E saw anger welling up in Maxim’s eyes. Intentional or not, this was an affront and Max wasn’t used to that sort of thing. “Good”, Big-E said in a strong voice that also featured a convivial undertone. “It’s best to get all of that out of the way. We might as well get the sports talk birds chirping early.” He made a similar higher-pitched laugh as earlier on the flight over and once again raised looks of curiosity from his wife and brother and sister-in-law. Jimmy was caught by it as well. It was strange for him to hear Big-E possessed with even a shred of gayety. Vulerummer showed an appreciative smile. He had not told them about the media on purpose. If his guests had come with any last-minute demands along with threats to default, he would use his substantial power to rebuff this. He didn’t permit niggling or any attempts at wrangling from his employees and other associates—and this case would be no different. He assured them that the media would be “well behaved” since he employed most of them. Coco and Sidney exchanged wide-eyed looks. In little, revealing dresses they hadn’t been thinking of a media event with photographers and TV cameras; neither wanted to be seen publicly as pastry pieces. Coco had her business persona to consider and Sidney had just been elected an officer of the local Maui PTA. But there wasn’t anything they could do and soon the group was being led by Vulerummer down a corridor into the complex’s old, large media room. They found no less then four television cameras. Three dozen reporters, producers and photographers had packed the area to capacity. The media room had not hosted a crowd like this since the days of Rashling. Jay

Carroll put out the word only ninety-minutes earlier and had more or less ordered the editors of the news stations and papers owned by V Corp to send out their people. Members of the press not controlled by Vulerummer —only a few in number—were in attendance as well. An exhibition Lion-fighting match was not a big story but when the participants were the richest man in the world and the three greatest Lion-fighters of all time, it became a gossip writer’s field day. So big in fact, that serious journalists were forced to be involved. The stage area contained just enough space for all of them. Jay Carroll gave a quick introduction to his boss and Ethan Vulerummer came to the podium. Max towered over his right shoulder. Big-E and Jimmy flanked him. Sidney, Marthia and Coco came up beside their men as Carroll joined David Ohuna by the VIP entrance. The flash photography began in a burst of light and clicking sounds set in a general hum of flowing electricity. Vulerummer possessed a warm, fatherly look. He had never felt so fortified as he did now, surrounded by the great Lionfighters and all of his media employees. He glanced at some notes he had brought and laid out. “Thank you for coming” he began. “It is not well-known that I am a great fan of Professional Lion-fighting. Since I was a child I have regarded the great athletes who make up the sport as my heroes. I would listen to the matches on the radio. The great battaliers of my youth were Minnesota Jesse Killabrew and Brooklyn’s Rocky Hammer. The great spearman of that era was Gordie Howard. “As I wasn’t built to be a Lion-fighter, my plan following college was to become a sports writer at one of my father’s newspapers. With his early death however, it was left to me to take over his business and I wasn’t able to fulfill my dream. But like many, I sit in the comfort of my living room on Lion-fighting Sundays and watch as these great athletes go into battle. The youngsters of today have great role models as well—men like Maxim Le Muffet, Jimmy Luani and Big-E White. “Not long ago I was speaking with my wife about what new event we might conjure up to fund our charity to under-privileged children. She knows of my unrealized dreams and suggested this exhibition Lion-fighting match. I was aware that these men would be honored in early spring in Columbia District so I proposed this to them and they accepted. This will also greatly benefit their own work with under-privileged children. “But before I turn over the microphone to them and to any questions you might have for us, let me say this:”. Vulerummer paused to gather up his thoughts before finishing his short speech with a passionate flourish. “The ancestor of the Tall Lion was a beast that left early man cowering in caves at night. But we gained mastery over our environment with our superior minds. The Lion-fighter proves Man is also the physical master over the animals—going up against the Tall Lion with less in weaponry then that which the great cats possess with their fangs and claws. Men like this prove that not only are we superior in mind, but in body as well.” Big-E, Max and Jimmy glanced at each other with crooked smiles. That was not something actual Lion-fighters believed. If it were true they’d be fighting Polar Bears and each knew that a great bear could dispose of both a Lion-fighter and a Tall Lion simultaneously in about a minute or two. He had it all wrong. But nobody would tell the richest man in the world that. Vulerummer tilted his upper body back a notch and fixed the open palms of his hands in an odd, upward pose. His eyes glanced into the periphery of heaven for a long second as he said excitedly that Man was the crowning jewel of life; that The Great Man is master of the universe; and that we should all strive to be like The Great Man. Jay Carroll appeared to wipe a tear from his eye and began to clap. Many of those present feel obliged to join in. Max and Big-E patted Ethan Vulerummer on the back. Jimmy smiled and clapped a little but what he’d just heard sounded stupid to him. A flurry of flash photography went off. Vulerummer stepped back from the podium a bit and Max leaned in and told the media that he, Big-E and Jimmy were happy to be participating in the event with Mr. Vulerummer. Stan Regis, dean of the network news anchors came forward to ask a question. V Corp had put him on a jet the previous day and shipped him in from Manhattan City. A full, five-minute section on the event was being produced for the following day’s news. He asked Vulerummer if there were any truth in the rumor that leading members of The Fascist Party were trying to get him to run for president in the coming election. In good humor and a trace of hubris, Vulerummer used a hand gesture to brush the question back. “Oh, Stan, who’s been giving you your tips?” A number of smirking faces appeared in the media gallery. It was obvious to insiders that the question had come from Vulerummer himself through Jay Carroll. “I’m sure you people have some real questions for these men” he said and dropped back behind Max, Big-E and Jimmy who closed ranks. For the next twenty-minutes, the reporters asked questions and the photographers took pictures. Big-E and Jimmy were asked about the current state of their rivalry. They replied it was nothing more then a media con-

coction put on by Sports Talk and shows like it. The two said they had always been friends and remained so. Max was asked if he was thinking of retirement as he was soon to turn 40. He answered that the thought had crossed his mind but he’d recently had “the leg” into the shop for a tune-up. Coco was asked about her outfit and whether she had made it herself. She said it came from a particular designer, that Big-E had chosen it for her to where, and that Mr. Vulerummer had commented that she looked cute in it. There were no questions for either Marthia or Sidney. As the press conference wound down, a photographer snapped a picture of Max who had turned toward him at the very moment he did. The man was an older Asian. He wore a small-brimmed hat, and had a fully visible press pass in plain view. When the camera came down following the shot, a familiar pair of gleaming, smiling eyes were gazing at Max. The man who had snapped the photo was Dr. Ben Akiyama! He quickly slunk back into the pack of press people with a big smile on his face and disappeared. Max glanced at his wife and saw her head turned in profile toward the spot where Dr. Ben had been standing. He knew she had seen him as well and wondered just what he was doing there. He hadn’t seen or heard from him since his last visit to Dr. Ben’s house when Max told him about their involvement with Ethan Vulerummer and World Security. He had left for Japan and hadn’t returned any of the calls Max had made to him. It was a mystery he was anxious to solve and wondered what Marthia would make of it. He decided not to bring it up with the others just yet. He didn’t think anyone else had noticed Dr. Ben’s presence. Soon the group withdrew from the pressroom and parted from Ethan Vulerummer. With David, they left Lord Rashling’s Castle in the limousine for the airport and a quick ride to Maui where they would all spend the night at the I Kini Akua Plantation. They were met at the Hana airport by two vans that would shuttle them to the Luani’s home. Jimmy’s mother had brought his boys. They were presented to meet for the first time with Big-E White. They were told to be on their best behavior and say it was an honor to meet him. They had grown up mostly hearing how he and their father were rivals and they had been warned not to think like this when they were introduced. Big-E smiled and shook the hands of the boys. Coco had been to Maui without him on a number of occasions and was treated like one of their aunts. Big-E had been like a giant shadow to them. He told the boys that he and their dad started off fighting lions together and that he always considered Jimmy to be the better of the two. This made the boys smile. Jimmy thought that was gracious of Big-E. He knew however that—like him—Big-E White would only consider Max as a greater battalier then himself. Both Marthia and David got on the secure line to Kerri Branghaue who had been waiting patiently for a report on how things had gone and to gather their impressions of Ethan Vulerummer. They talked for a long time. David finally told her that she had all her ducks in a row now if she was able to cook up some way of derailing Vulerummer’s quest for power. He told her that the man had all but confirmed he would be running for the president now. She thanked him profusely and said that they would find some way to knock Vulerummer out— either literally or figuratively. She added that she wasn’t likely to be in contact with any of them until the ceremony in Columbia District that was to take place on the day prior to the exhibition Lion-fighting match. It was best to just allow normality to take its natural course. The group had a casual dinner. Black bean tacos—a staple at the Luani house—were laid out on a large platter while Jimmy braised pieces of Ahi Tuna on the grille. They finished eating and Jimmy and Big-E went with the boys to play the new Lion-fighting video game. Big-E White and Jimmy “Samoan” Luani were the principle characters in the game’s story line. Each had gone into a studio the previous year to do video and have their body movements recorded for the engineering of the lifelike scenes. The contest featured the two leading their crews of up to six Lion-fighters into a south-eastern Asian jungle village under siege by endless waves of “Devil” Tall Lions. Scoring was based on both the number of lion killed or driven off and the number of villagers saved. For their game, Jimmy took the “Big-E” character and his youngest son as a spearman while Big-E had the older boy and took the “Jimmy” character. They played late into the evening. Max and Marthia were alone with David. Coco and Sidney had gone off somewhere in the car together. The king and queen of the Le Muffet clan had earlier discussed the appearance of Ben Akiyama at the press conference. They were more then a little baffled and a bit withdrawn. David watched them for a while and then spoke up. “I saw that Ben Akiyama paid the two of you quite an unusual visit today”, he said point blank. Maxim and Marthia popped to attention. “Did he call you? Or did you just see him there”. Marthia wasn’t sure if the two had ever met. She didn’t think so. But Dr. Ben was well-known—he was a minor celebrity in his own right due to his role as Max’s trainer.

David—and many others at the press conference—would have known him. That was part of what made his appearance so strange. Not even Coco and Big-E had seen him. David replied that he had spotted him and knew who he was even though he’d only saw him a couple times on TV. He said he wasn’t sure at first but then noted how the two of them had reacted. “I can’t figure out what he was doing” Max said plainly. “He’s done strange stuff like that all the time but I wouldn’t expect him there in the middle of all that. I can’t get a handle on it.” “My opinion is that he was there to test the integrity of this situation. To see if it’s something that will hold together.” David said this knowingly as if it were a fact rather then his mere opinion. “And I think he meant to show you that he’s there, backing the two of you up.” “Why ain’t he returning our calls? That’s what has been concerning me the most. Now this?” Marthia really didn’t like any of this even though she fully trusted Dr. Ben. David speculated that he had made himself unavailable to them for some good reason. “Maybe he wants the two of you to feel what it’s like not to have him around. In the end, we all have to fend for ourselves anyway. Maybe that’s what it’s about.” Max shrugged and said that what David had just said was better then anything he could come with to explain the strange maneuver. “He always been surprising us…in matters large and small”. Marthia nodded in agreement. She added that the avoidance of complacency was the first principle he taught them and everyone else. David asked them if they’d like to walk out to the west end of the estate to see the afterglow of the rich Hawaiian sunset. They said they would and the three strolled out to a cliff where the sky was widely open. “When I was a kid here, I couldn’t wait to get off this island and see the world. Now, I don’t care if I ever leave again.” “You found you was rooted to the land”, Max said. “It’s the same for us back in Califia.” David smiled inwardly. The Oakland was well-named for these two. Max and Marthia were like towering oaks themselves with great roots stretching out far and wide. With all of his children, Max reminded David of the old Hawaiian kings he was taught about as a young boy. He truly was a Big Kahuna. After advising them just how to think about their relationship with their new “friend” Ethan Vulerummer, David called it a night and said he would see them in the morning. Then he took a roundabout path that would bring him to his small hut at the opposite end of the property. When they were alone together, Marthia told Max that Vulerummer was as cold a man as she had ever seen. “He put on a great mask” she said, “but there’s something deeply wrong with him.” She and Max were sitting on a bench that was slightly tilted back to make viewing the sky a little easier. Thinking again about the coldness of Ethan Vulerummer made her come in closer up against her husband. She looked up into the sky where the stars were now becoming visible as the final traces of the sunset yielded. “Why everything so big and mysterious?” she wondered out loud and this made Max chuckle. “You might as well be asking why we so small and mystified by it all.” Weeks passed and Eric Smith was sitting alone in his office. It was now a few days before the Winter Solstice vacation and the Cristopian holiday. Kerri Branghaue had already left, promising to take some real time off. Smith too was going to be out of the office for 10 days but wasn’t in any hurry to leave. It was late afternoon and he sat back with his feet on his desk, thinking. He had spent the previous three days writing up his annual review for the higher-ups at World Security Central Command. In it was no mention on the progress to topple Ethan Vulerummer and The Seven Lions of Private Control as this was a joint effort by the Democratic regional chiefs. Smith and the others had locked Central Command out of the loop. Made up largely of political appointees, this layer of bureaucracy was tasked with providing the interface between the various governments and the actual controllers of World Security—the regional chiefs such as Smith. He was partnered with the chief of eastern North America and the Atlantic—a man named Henry Wesson. Their focus on Vulerummer made them the point team. The other regional chiefs were developing plans to take out the others of the Seven Lions Organization—each working on the centers of Fascism in their own areas. But the plan all hinged on the destruction of Vulerummer. In roughly three months Smith calculated, Vulerummer would be announcing his bid for the U.S. Presidency. Having spent several decades building up his huge media empire—while leveraging politicians to soften antitrust laws—the richest man in the world would now make his push to drive New Fascism into the mainstream. What bothered Smith the most was how Vulerummer was able to use wealthy and influential Democrats to accomplish this. His ability to control media was brought by actual makers of entertainment programs, movies and

music. They had built the cradle in which New Fascism was born. Many of course, would create their works in a way that shed light on the folly and outright contamination of the Fascist mindset. The long history of mockery of Fascists was a good example of this. The parody of traits of people such as Rashling and Vulerummer, and of their more common man counter parts, were always broadcast out to the masses in abundance. The problem—as Smith saw it—was the unwitting participation by the makers of entertainment and informational media in promoting the aims of Fascist Capitalism—which is unbridled consumerism and the subsequent pumping up of the top-end people at the expense of everybody else. He thought the evil brilliance of sociopaths such as Vulerummer was in their ability to groom and feed “the stars” and their support troops like well-trained, pet hamsters. They provided the opium of the masses which allowed for greater and greater bubbles and instances of seizure that fortified Fascist “parental control”. Get the people hooked on the dope and even if you spent 40% of the time telling them about self-empowerment, healthy living, God and good wholesome apple pie—it wouldn’t matter. The people would still have to have dope first and be more then willing to submit to “parental control” to attain it. That was how Smith’s view of the system really worked. He heard many of these progressive Democrats say that you had to change the system from within; by engaging in the full measure of the political process. He considered that a small part of the truth. The system only really changed from outside pressure. Real outside pressure moved the political process to the speed of thought and upset all of the fixed positions. People usually didn’t give up their positions willingly for the better good. That might mean loss of privilege, a decreased ability to garner the “dope” they had become hooked on. And now Smith saw stirrings of uprising that were occurring throughout the world and it made him wonder. Would the system change in a more positive and natural way as it had following The Last War? Or would it take the more usual historical path of greater violence and discord? He and others believed that the greater the violence, the greater the advantage to somebody like Ethan Vulerummer. Vulerummer would never change as his enlistment in New Fascism was likely to be pathological. This meant other Fascists would hold their ground as well instead of yielding real power. Smith reflected glumly that they still didn’t have a clue as to how to knock out the Chairman of The Seven Lions of Private Control. Surrounding him in his office, that absence of light in space and time—which we call Darkness—gradually changed the sharp lines of the shapes and objects of the room into a lone mass. Only the twinkling lights from outside the windows provided illumination. Eric Smith got up and turned on the lights and packed up his briefcase before leaving for the Holidays. In Santa Barbra, Little B was a “happy dog”. The Goddess Randi was holding him. They were taking a “doggy picture” and the Goddess was saying that he should “smile”. So much had changed for him during the preceding days. He felt like “a big dog” now. He heard both The Goddess Randi and The Goddess Coco say; “Little B, you’re a big dog now”. He liked it when they said he was “a good dog”, “a big dog” and “a happy dog”. Things began to change for him when The Goddess Coco had discovered a flea on him. Little B remembered first that the Big Dog Man had said he was “a little flee bag”. Then The Goddess Coco said, “no he isn’t”. She picked him up and looked for fleas and found one. Nobody liked fleas; they were “bad”. The Goddess told The Other Dog Man to take him home and have The Goddess Randi give him a bath. They went to the house of the Goddess Randi and he was given a “luxury poodle-dog bath”. Later, when he was dry and “fluffy”, he got to spend the night in the “glorious bed” in between The Other Dog Man and The Goddess Randi. When the next day came, The Goddess Randi brought out something he called, “a Chi-Bee”. This Chi-Bee smelled like the toy mouse The Goddess used when he wanted to play “tough dog” with him. But the Chi-Bee looked like a little dog. He grabbed the Chi-Bee and began to shake it. The Goddess then said, “No Little B. Don’t hurt the Chi-Bee, he loves you!” Then The Goddess moved the Chi-Bee all around and said, “I love you Little B”. He pushed him down on his back and put the Chi-Bee on top of him and again said, “I love you Little B”. Little B didn’t know what a Chi-Bee was, only that he wasn’t supposed to play “tough dog” with it. That day, when The Goddess Randi had brought him back to his house, he smelled something strange when he came in. He followed the smell and both of the Goddess’ followed him upstairs to one of the rooms. He went in and saw Chica—the little dog from down the street. Chica was up on the bed. She must have come over to have a “good-dog time” so he jumped up on the bed too. But when he went to smell her she growled at him and looked like she might bite him. He didn’t like dogs that growled and tried to bite him. They were like that one dog at the “poodle-dog salon”

they called, Mr. Snapper. Mr. Snapper was a “bad dog”. He heard many people say that. While he got his “luxury poodle-dog bath” from The Goddess himself, Mr. Snapper got his from one of “dog girls”. Now Chica was acting like Mr. Snapper and didn’t want to have “a Good Dog time”. The Goddess Coco picked him up and said, “Baby, Chica come to live with us. You gonna be a daddy dog”. He didn’t know what a “daddy dog” was. Since Chica didn’t want to have “a Good Dog time”, he jumped down off the bed and went outside to look for birds and cats. Then, two nights later, he heard a noise coming from the room Chica was in. He couldn’t go there because the door was closed. It sounded like Chica was crying. The next day, there was a lot of excitement and lots of people going into that room. They wouldn’t let him go inside. But after some more days, they did let him go in. “Baby, these are the Chi-bee’” the Goddess Coco said. “You’re the daddy dog, Little B” the Goddess Randi told him. He didn’t care much for these Chi-Bee’ at first, but now he liked them. They were all taking a “doggy picture”. The Goddess Coco, The Goddess Randi, Chica, him and the Chi-bee’. Little B was excited.