Authors: Scott Spotson
The office was huge. At the back sat Amanda, looking tiny in front of her marble slab desk. Two giant aquariums full of tropical fish and oversize starfish stood at each side of Amanda’s desk. There were five very gradual steps up to where she sat. One could take three paces on each step before lifting himself on the next step. And there were two comfortable black leather sofas situated right in front of Amanda’s desk, ostensibly to allow large groups to meet with her.
Marcus was unsure if he should advance or not. Amanda solved the problem for him when she spoke. “Come on up,” she said, not looking at him directly.
Gulping, he slowly made his way toward her, and uncertain which sofa to take, settled for the one on the right. He sat in the corner, in order to face Amanda directly.
“Mr. Gelby,” Amanda began with a smile, “thank you for taking your valuable time out to meet me today.”
Cheerful. Pleasant
. Marcus began to wonder if the rumors about the “dragon lady” were true after all. “Not at all, I am most honored.”
Amanda got to the point right away. Glancing at a report in her hand, she frowned. “It says here your work performance is most exceptional. Especially on Wizard Regi’s request that the bitcoin economy be extended to the charity and giving sector.”
Marcus’ chest swelled out with pride. He wondered if this would be too easy. “I do the best I can, Ms. Fullerton. Is there something I can do for you?”
Amanda grew serious. “I have to say, though, I’ve reviewed your security check, and it says prior to your employment with the Liberators, you were accused of hacking secrets from the conglomerate Clearwell Inc. while still employed there.”
Sweat now poured from Marcus’ neck, temples, forehead, and underarms. Amanda was still not looking directly at him, so he zipped out a tissue from his coat pocket and swiped his forehead. Inserting the damp tissue back into a trouser pocket, he gulped. “I’m dreadfully sorry about not reporting it. I do confess to it.”
Now Amanda gazed directly at him. He was relieved there was no sweat glistening in view, but that would change in the next few seconds. Desperately, he said, “I’ll be happy to resign my position today. I don’t deserve to be here.”
Sighing, Amanda walked over to him. He tensed up. She took out something from her purse – a letter of termination, perhaps? No. It was a stack of tissues. She offered a few to him. “For goodness sake, Mr. Gelby. Wipe away your moisture, do not be ashamed. It does not bother me, and it shouldn’t bother you. Got it?”
Marcus gratefully took the tissues, his eyes showing huge relief and gratitude.
“Let’s be comfortable here,” Amanda said. She was still standing a distance away from him.
Smiling, he said, “Yes, Ms. Fullerton. But once it starts, I—”
“I know, I know,” Amanda waved away his concern. “It keeps going, doesn’t it?. It’s very awkward, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m going to ignore it. It doesn’t bother me at all. Okay?”
Marcus exhaled. “God bless you, Amanda.”
The Supreme Liaison smiled, and sat behind her desk. She leaned over. “Now, I wouldn’t bother calling you forward just to fire you. I have people who take care of that.” She laughed. “Calling in someone to fire him? What kind of terrible boss do you think I am, Mr. Gelby?”
Marcus waved his hand out in embarrassment, “No, no, I didn’t mean…”
“Stop,” Amanda fiercely said. “Now, down to business. I need some hacking work done.”
Marcus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me?”
“Yes. I said it. I need you to hack into some hospital records for me. If necessary, the Department of Vital Statistics.”
I must be dreaming
, Marcus thought. Maybe magic is at work? Maybe this was not the real Amanda Fullerton?
Despite his disbelief, Marcus played along. “I still don’t understand.”
“I can’t tell you the reason behind your mission. What you must do for me –” she handed up a piece of paper, “– is find out the birth records of an Angus Tucker, of Detroit, Michigan, whom I suspect was born on April thirtieth about twenty-seven years ago.”
Marcus swallowed. He started sweating afresh. “That’s asking me to break about a dozen laws. I’d get into trouble if I were found out.”
“You won’t get found out, Marcus. You’re too good.”
“And it’s not just me, it’s also you. What if people found out that the Supreme Liaison authorized this sort of unethical behavior?”
Amanda placed her hands flat down on her cool marble desk. Her voice took on an urgent, yet professional tone. “Believe me. Your work may save the democracy of millions of people. You’re absolutely not to reveal what you’re doing. To anyone. If you have a girlfriend, do not tell her. If your mother is dying and asks you, you’re not to tell her. Do you understand?”
“Am I in danger?”
She shook her head. “No. But it’s vital that no one knows. Except me. When you find the records – as I have no doubt you will – you’re to inform me right away. And to give me proof.”
Marcus’ eyes darted around as he thought through his difficult task. “Well, Ms. Fullerton, even if I can do it, there are a lot of unknowns. For one thing, the hospital may not have digitized the records from twenty-seven years ago.”
Amanda’s gaze became icy. “Then you’re to bribe hospital office staff to give you the records. I have resources. Anything. Just don’t get caught.”
“And the Department of Vital Statistics – if I have to go that route, it’s impossible to get in. They closed about one year ago.”
Amanda, for once, mourned the loss of a branch of government. “Then,” she said, standing up behind her desk, leaning on her wrists, “you are to break in. Any further questions?”
Chapter Forty-Six
One year, eleven months post-Liberation
The four wizards and Amanda were now closing up a long, exhausting Petition Day.
Amanda stifled a yawn, and announced, “Last Petitioner of the day. Ian Jardine, President of the Taxpayers’ Federation of America.”
For weeks now, during the public events, she’d been avoiding awkward glances between herself and Demus, and the more tender looks she shared with Regi. She groaned inwardly.
Why did she have to get involved with the only two male wizards on the council?
Must be the addiction to the sense of impropriety. She’d also remembered the promise she made to her family.
A pleasant-looking man, aged about fifty, with well-groomed brown hair appeared on the screen.
“Mr. Jardine, you have the floor now,” Amanda said.
“Greetings, Liberators!” the man jovially exclaimed. The five council members nearly grimaced at the overbearing volume of his voice. “I’ve great news to announce to the world!” He winked. “I’m going to use your platform, if you don’t mind.”
Sensing fawning accolades to come, Regi said, “By all means, no problem. Go ahead.”
Holding a piece of paper in his outstretched arms, the man adopted the tone of a town crier, gazing in full at the news item. “Hear ye! Hear ye! As of yesterday, the very last employee of the infamous government agency, the Internal Revenue Service, otherwise cursed as simply the IRS –” he glared at the camera for a brief moment – “was laid off, effectively ending its reign of terror which had been put into place during the American Civil War!”
The four wizards clapped enthusiastically.
The man dramatically lowered his arms and stared at the camera, looking thrilled beyond his belief. “Thank you, Regi. You’re a hero to millions and millions of long-suffering and oppressed American taxpayers. They’ve been thrown into jail, had their homes broken into, their life savings confiscated, and their reputations irrevocably damaged.”
He turned to every wizard. “Thank you, Demus. Thank you, Indie. Thank you, Justica. And thank you, Amanda.”
Amanda tried to be neutral. “Well, wasn’t Al Capone caught on the charge of income tax evasion?”
Jardine glared. “Al Capone had plenty of sticks in the fire. He would’ve been caught sooner or later.” He beamed again. “Anyway, thank you! Thank you! May this day be henceforth celebrated as a new national holiday – Tax Freedom Day!”
The four wizards again clapped.
“Your dreams are our dreams,” Indie said generously.
“I don’t know why your popularity’s so low,” Jardine peered through the screen, frowning. “You know, all the politicians were so corrupt, raising taxes for their pet projects or to scratch the back of a Senator or whatnot. They forgot something….” He raised his voice. “It was our money, not their money!”
“Read our magic – no new taxes!” Indie said, smiling.
“I hope you stay in power forever,” the man said. “The Internal Revenue Code was more complicated than the Bible, and that’s just wrong! Please, as God wills it, you will prevent a return of the corrupt tax and spend regime, and eradicate it forever from the annals of history.”
Amanda spoke out, “All right, Mr. Jardine, it’s time to wrap up.”
Jardine started kneeling on the ground. The camera zoomed in on his bowed head. “My Dear Lord,” the man was heard to intone softly, “May the Good Lord see the Liberators and smile upon them.”
Amanda pushed the button to cut off Jardine’s prayers. She felt annoyed. The images on the screen reverted back to the council.
“Well, that was very touching.” Indie beamed with pride as she glanced around.
“Motion to adjourn,” said Amanda. Her eyelids were drooping, and she welcomed the chance to rest up in her office back in San Francisco. She badly needed the perk-up of a fruit smoothie.
“Wait,” said Justica. “Given that our second anniversary seems to be coming up soon –”
The Liberators all listened intently.
“– I think for our next Debate Day we should start discussing the transition planning.”
“Just a minute, Justica,” Demus sheepishly interrupted, “I don’t think this is ready for a motion yet.” Amanda mentally glared at the wizard in red.
What are you up to, Demus, you arrogant, contemptuous hypocrite?
“Well, why not?” Justica asked, puzzled. “I mean, transition planning is standard, and –”
“Demus is right,” glared Indie. “We’re working closely with Amanda on the framework, and will get back to you.”
Huh?
thought Amanda. This was news to her.
Justica didn’t know what to say. Deciding to drop the topic, she shrugged her shoulders. “Fine. Keep us advised.”
Hmmm. Amanda thought through the developing events of the last few minutes. The wizards seemed to be out of sync with each other. She could pick up the vibes. There was something wrong. But right now, she was too tired to care.
“Meeting adjourned.” Amanda brought down her arm and rested her palm on her desk, silent in her relief.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“I call the Plenary Conference of the Five Continents to order,” Wei announced solemnly in his native Mandarin language. He was the
de facto
leader – even if not the titular head, since wizards didn’t believe in ranking – of the AJI council. Clad in yellow, he gazed around at the spectacle, which occurred only once or twice a year. It was a session that was always full of intrigue and awe, since it assembled the greatest powers all over Earth – the wizards – and decided issues of international importance. Ever since the wizards adopted the mantle of the Liberators and also had taken to governing Mortals as well, this secret meeting took on an added significance. No portals were permitted to the Mortals.
No Mortal knew about this meeting.
At the end of Wei’s introductory address, the five emblems of each of the Five Continents – AJI, AFRI, EURO, SUDA, and NAM – disappeared from the five-sided screens that dotted the inside of the dodecahedron. Instead, the image of the speaker flashed continuously on each of the twelve surfaces enclosing the geodesic sphere. All the wizards could glance anywhere – up, down, sideways – and instantly see the speaker.
Five wizard councils hovered inside the dodecahedron, all separate from one another. They were stacked up at an angle from each other. Each of the wizards’ councils had the four colors – red, blue, yellow, and purple – as proudly worn by each of the continents’ four members. In addition, the perfect gender ratio was present on every council – two males, two females. Each council consisted of the four wizards sitting diagonally several yards from each other, with nothing but air between them. The Five Continents had nearly one thousand years to perfect their traditions, as commanded by their god Elsedor, and they tenaciously held on to their rituals. Twenty wizards in all, to govern the world.
“Time to pray to Elsedor,” Wei intoned, his eyes closed and his head bowed.
Everyone closed their eyes, and chanting, each of the twenty wizards drew glowing dots into the air. When they had finished, they all checked one another’s creations, still savouring the rituals even though they had seen them hundreds of times over during their lifetimes. All the patterns formed perfectly shaped dodecahedrons. The wizards beamed at one another.
“Thank you,” Wei said. There was no applause. He smiled and excitedly began, “We are on the cusp of history. As you all know, this coming anniversary will be the one thousandth year since the death of the Mighty Elsedor.”
Instead of clapping, all the wizards emitted short-range fireworks within their personal space. Spectacular displays of color and light burst out all over within the sphere, magnified by the twelve giant screens surrounding everyone.
Waiting for the excitement to die down, Wei held up his hand. He spoke, with his eyes slightly upward. Hushed tones. “It is time.” All the wizards sat up intently. “It’s time – to fulfill the Prophecy!”
Intense, brilliant extravaganzas of fireworks simply exploded. Pandemonium reigned. The wizards not only cheered, but used their magic to amplify their cheers within every cubic inch of the sphere. The result was deafening.
Wei started to speak again, but he was drowned out by the cheers.
“The Prophecy!”
“The Prophecy!”
“The Prophecy!”
They shouted over and over again, up and cheering, all in perfect tandem.