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Updated Sunday 21 February, 2010 12:15 PM |
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SNAKE OIL
By Doctor What
Chapter Seventeen
That money talks
**
March 7, 2017
“If I may have your attention please?” yelled Drake as he stood before the desk, trying to shout above the din.
It took a few seconds for the noise to die down, mostly because David and Aaron were arguing once again about Doctor Who, this time apparently arguing about which Companion ‘most deserved to die a horrible death’.
After a few seconds, the gang finally quieted down for good.
Drake spent a moment looking at the assembled group.
He had to admit – they certainly made a motley crew.
I think I have a representative from nearly continent here thought Drake. Man –talk about a United Nations…
“Quick introductions all around, people,” continued Drake.
“Aaron here. Originally from the UK.”
“David. From the glorious land of Down Under.”
“Alexei Orlov. Take a wild guess where I’m originally from.”
“Judging from the accent – uh, Yorkshire?”
“Berky?”
“Yes?”
“Be a dear and just play your videogame.”
“Okay-dokey.”
“Peter Chambers – and I happen to think you lot are the saddest so-called revolutionaries I’ve ever seen.”
“Then why are you sitting here?”
“Because it beats having to slog through Channel 4’s sixteen part special ‘Big Brother meets 28 Months Later meets the Return of Godzilla: We’re not even pretending we have any original ideas anymore’ extravaganza. Besides –this should be vaguely amusing.”
“Also allows you to avoid the missus for a few days?”
“That too. It’s a win-win thing, all in all.”
“People…” continued Drake, a dark tone to his voice. He shook his head in annoyance.
They’re acting like a bunch of five year olds, they keep interrupting one another, they go off on bizarre tangents at the drop of a hat and I strongly suspect half of them want to kill the other half just on general principle.
Drake paused for a moment, a bit stunned at a sudden revelation that popped into his head.
Holy shit – they’re EXACTLY like the UN…
“People!” shouted Drake again. “Can we have some quiet here?”
Once again, the room slowly quieted down.
Drake cleared his throat.
“You all know why we’re here. Can I have some progress reports? Alexei?”
Alexei slowly stood up and pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket.
“I got a hold of some of my old contacts. Four of them are willing to help with our little enterprise. They’re sending me whatever bits and pieces of intel they can get their hands on. So far, from what I’ve seen, it seems like our suspicions are valid.”
“Any ideas when you can get all that intel to the rest of us?”
Alexei shrugged his shoulders.
“Will take a bit of time to sift through it but I figure within 24 hours.”
Drake nodded his head.
“Good, good. Peter?”
Peter stretched out his legs as Alexei sat down. He didn’t bother to stand up but started speaking anyway.
“Same here, Drake. Nothing dramatic like a vid of Anderson exchanging spit with Ambassador Bob but lots of little things that confirm a lot of our suspicions.”
“And thank you very much for that horrifying mental image, Peter,” chastised Drake. “Did you mean to implant an image that made me want to throw up in my mouth?”
“Well—yes…actually.”
“Hrumph. Okay – Doctor Who and the Goth – what you’ve got?”
Aaron stood up, brushing a hand on his cravat to straighten out some wrinkles.
“My esteemed colleague and myself have been in contact with several other freelance civilian contractors such as ourselves and, while we have been unable to get any useful information on the wherefores and whereas and wherewithal of our sadly benighted elected officials dealings with our extraterrestrial adversaries, we were able to confirm that the possibility of an alignment of certain interests and commonalities at some indeterminable point in the future was not, on the whole, beyond the realm of impossibility and the broaching of said possibilities at a more advantageous and opportune time should not be discounted if and when such negotiations will need be re-examined and revisited.”
An observer would have noticed that –with the exception of Aaron and David – every single person in the room slowly mouthed this sentence under their breath, trying very hard to ascertain its meaning.
Drake tried – and failed – and leaned back against the desk.
“Was that in English?”
Aaron actually seemed to stand up straighter and taller.
“But of course!” said Aaron, shock and dismay apparent on his face. “I could not have spent twelve years in her Majesty’s Civil Service without using English, my dear Drake.”
Drake rolled his eyes.
“How about that in American?”
“Oh! Oh!” shouted Berky, rising out of his chair and waving his hand. “I know the answer to that! Pick me! Pick me!”
Drake took a moment to rub the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before replying.
“Go on.”
Berky stood up and cleared his throat.
“It means that an alliance between us and a whole bunch of other soldiers of fortune –“
“Berky…” said Aaron, darkly.
“Sorry – freelance civilian contractors – is a distinct possibility in the near future and the only question will be the details of said alliance.”
“Oh,” replied Drake. “That’s excellent news!”
Berky clasped his hands together into a doublefist and waved it triumphantly over his head, smiling.
“Alright!” said Drake, grinning. “This is slowly all coming...er...David? Is there a problem?”
David had been sitting in the chair frowning. Now, at the mention of his name, he cranked up the emotion to ‘scowling’.
With great reluctance, he slowly stood up.
“Look Drake—not that I don’t appreciate all the effort you’re putting into this but, really, what’s the point? When do we get to blow some stuff up or pound somebody?”
“You of all people should know that one doesn’t make a move until you have some good intel on what exactly you’re up against.”
“I’m aware of that but what, exactly, are we doing?”
Aaron piped up.
“I feel that I must concur with my esteemed colleague here. We’re kind of flailing around here unsure of what our next step should be.”
Drake sighed again. He was afraid that it would come to this.
Oh well—might as well get it over with...
“Look—that’s the point, isn’t it? We have zero ideas on what the Lytasians are up to or what are they planning or even IF they’re planning anything! Sure –they could be just sleazy intergalactic used car salesmen out to make a buck off of us. Yeah—so we end up with a cheap car that gets shitty mileage but at least we have a car now and get to drive around the galaxy. Ok –that’s a lousy metaphor but you know what I mean. On the other hand –what if they’re up to something more insidious? What if they’re planning to doublecross us? For that matter –what kind of bullshit deals did our leaders do and how long before they come back to bite us on the ass? We have a right to know and we have to prepare for it! If all this is for nothing – if it turns out that nothing’s going to happen – then fine! I’ll call it quits and we can all go our separate ways! But we need to know!”
Drake glanced around at the assembled gang.
Half of them seemed to be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The other half looked bored.
Christ – I’m losing these guys...
“All I’m asking from you guys is to just give me a few months. The stakes are too high for us to slack off here. It’s not like you guys are exactly overwhelmed with other work at the moment, anyway.”
The bored half made some noises that could either be interpreted as vaguely acknowledging grunts or a release of some excess intestinal gas.
David and Aaron exchanged a glance for a long moment, almost as if they were communicating telepathically. They nodded their heads in agreement.
“Fight to the last gasp, as the great Bard once said.” replied Aaron. He nodded his head once more.
Drake smiled.
“Of course. There will always be setbacks and unpleasantness to go through before we can get to the good stuff and show our mettle. After all – you can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you.”
Aaron raised his eyebrows in mild surprise at that last sentence.
“That’s actually a rather profound statement. Who said that? Jack London? Mark Twain? Arthur Miller?”
Drake shook his head.
“Mary Tyler Moore. Any other business before we call it a day?”
It took a while but eventually the ‘party’ broke up and the gang went off their various ways – Alexei went off to ‘double check on some phone calls’, Aaron and David to find a pub, and Berky disappeared to the local videostore on a quest to find ‘the lost 31st Star Trek: Voyager episode ‘Threshold’.
Drake leaned back into his chair with a grunt.
Damn...I’m getting too old for this...
He glanced up and noticed that Chambers was the only one still in the room.
“Anything I can help you with?”
Peter nodded his head and sat down in a chair next to Drake.
Taking a deep breath before continuing, he turned to face Drake.
“Why are we doing this, Patrick?”
That caught Drake completely off-guard – all the more so that Chambers had used his first name. He only was that formal with people if he had a lot on his mind.
Drake took a deep breath as well before continuing.
“I think it should be obvious.”
Chambers shook his head.
“Doctor Who and the Crazy Aussie Goth have a point though – what are we doing? Sure, we’re collecting lots of info and making allies – but for what purpose? Suppose we do find out that the ETs are going to doublecross us? What – exactly - can we do? And what if we find out that they’re just – what did you call them? Used car salesmen? – what if we find out that they’re just a bunch of legal albeit sleazy salesmen with no agenda other than trying to make a few extra quatloos on the side? What then? Do we still try to take them down or do we just wipe our hands of the whole thing?”
Drake leaned back, trying to come up with an answer to that that would satisfy both of them.
He realized that he was having a lot of trouble.
“I really don’t know, Peter. I honestly don’t know. But I need to find out just what the hell is going on here. You knew that when you signed on.”
Chambers nodded his head.
“I know that Drake. And I’m still signed on to this. But we have to start thinking just what the hell we’re going to do when we do find our answers.”
Drake sighed again.
“I honestly don’t know. Everything depends on what we find out.”
“Then we better find out fast, don’t we?”
Chambers got up and started walking towards the exit.
“Wait a minute!” called out Drake.
Chambers paused, his hand on the door handle.
“What?”
“This is going to sound stupid and I don’t want you to be insulted but I have to know. Are you going to stick with me until the end?”
Chambers looked downright insulted that Drake seemed to even have to bring that question up.
“Of course I will,” replied Chambers haughtily.
As he stepped out the door, Chambers continued speaking.
“Somebody has to keep an eye on you bloody colonials to make sure you don’t accidentally blow your balls off.”
The door slammed shut just as Drake began to smirk.
**
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