Chapter 13:// Standing up

 

It wasn’t a good time being the mayor. Dimos stood by his window and watched the city.

Or, more specifically, what little he could see of the city, between the high-rises and the skyscrapers. His little office was being engulfed under the steel towers. It reflected his mood precisely.

Oh, he wasn’t a conservative or anything. Progress was good, the city was moving forward.

But it shouldn’t move forward like this.

“Mr Mayor,” his assistant said through the intercom.

“Yes?” he grumbled. He knew what was coming.

“The CEO is here,” she said.

“Of course. Let him in,” Dimos said and turned around to face his enemy.

 

 

The CEO of Hephaistos Heavy Industries came in the office and left foot-prints of fine brown dirt behind him.

The mayor glared at that but he was becoming used to the messy man. He shook his hand cordially, like a politician should. “Come in, please. What can I get you?”

“Ugh, a beer would be nice,” Hephaistos said with a basso voice.

Dimos picked out a beer from his mini-fridge and served it himself, in a frozen beer mug.

“I hadn’t pegged you for a beer guy,” Hephaistos said, accepting it.

“I had it waiting just for you, my friend. Your tastes are quite well known,” the mayor said and sat on his chair.

“Stin ygia sou.” Hephaistos took a gulp and wiped the foam off his beard. “Ah! Nice.” He clapped once with his calloused hands and it hit like thunder. “Now, let’s talk business, shall we?”

“Of course. Why waste time?” the mayor said and eyed the man. He was short and bulky, almost square. His hands seemed like they’ve been doing hard work since he was a child. He had plenty of scars, a missing tip from a finger, sun-kissed skin and looked like he had just come from a construction site. Which he had, apparently, work trousers and boots and all.

Dimos fixed his tie.

“I need those zoning permits,” Hephaistos grumbled and finished his beer in a second gulp.

“I know. But as I’ve said repeatedly, there are issues to be discussed. The paperwork alone is monumental. And I can’t ignore the environmental issues, I’m still waiting on the independent analysis. I have my assistant calling them every day.”

They both knew of course, that Dimos was stalling.

The mayor farted out facts and procedures with eloquence.

Hephaistos didn’t interrupt the man. He just nodded and listened. It was funny, Dimos thought, how different people reacted to power. To absolute, monolithic Power with a capital ‘p.’ The other Olympian CEOs had gone to redefine megalomania as a word. This man, Hephaistos, simply wanted to build stuff. He had the power to reshape coastlines, divert rivers, starve cities and reinforce others, but he looked like an ordinary worker. He was the equivalent of the respected leader who didn’t think twice about fighting in the front lines. Hephaistos was known to work along-side his builders and supervise his projects personally. Sure, he had a megacorp to run, but he dedicated as much of his time as possible to actual hard labour.

Dimos respected the man.

But he needed to be stopped.

Not him specifically, but the other Olympians. They had purchased every section of the country that was privatised, bought out every little piece that hadn’t. Everything, everyone, was under their thumb.

Everyone except the lowly Mayor, who still cared for his country. Or his city at least, since the country was long lost.

“It all sounds very important,” Hephaistos said when the mayor finally stopped his litany of excuses. “I’m sure you have all that written down so my advisers can explain them to me?”

“Of course, it’s all in the memos I sent you,” Dimos said, sweating a bit on his silk tie.

“So there’s more delay,” Hephaistos said frowning.

“I’m afraid so,” the mayor said flashing his most sympathetic smile.

“These delays are costing me quite a lot, you know.”

Dimos didn’t interrupt the man. He had earned that, at least.

“But it’s not only that. The others are breathing down my neck. Since I whipped up Zeus’ skyscraper in record time, curse my thick skull for that, they all want their own, any obstacle be damned,” Hephaistos said and paused for emphasis. “Don’t be mistaken Mr. Stergiou, in two years time there will be ten skyscrapers in Athens, no matter what.”

Dimos perked up at that. “Ten?”

“I don’t need one. And Artemis will never go for such a phallic symbol of status. I can almost hear her rambling on about that. But yes. Ten.”

Dimos sagged in his leather chair. Ten. And here he was, a man standing alone, trying to stop the construction of one. Was he a fool? Could he hold back their will? Could anyone? No matter what the Olympians had attempted in the last decade, no matter how crazy or how big, they had gotten it in the end.

“But… The smog…” he protested in a wheeze.

“We’ll put those biodynamic cement exteriors on all of them, don’t worry,” Hephaistos said and clicked his fingers as he tried to remember. “The mixture of cement and titanium oxide, that lets air pass through, but captures nitrogen-oxide particles. It eats smog like there’s no tomorrow. It’s all been tested and awaiting approval.”

Dimos pulled a report on his desk computer and presented it. “Yes, but I have another environmental report here that says fatality rates and breathing problems will be increased by 4%. In a city this size, do you know what four percent means?

“Two hundred eighty thousand people,” Hephaistos replied instantly.

“And this report hadn’t taken into account ten skyscrapers!” Dimos had lost his temper, he was talking with the passion that drove him. “I didn’t know that! It should have been mentioned somewhere, and trust me, it didn’t slip past me in the memos. I don’t delegate, I read them all myself.”

Hephaistos stared him and waited. “How about your unemployment numbers. What do those tell you, and what percentage of that has vanished because of my business?” he said, pointing a thick finger at him.

Dimos shut his mouth.

“How long will your citizens remain healthy, without jobs? It’s a simple question,” Hephaistos said, his voice firm but not harsh.

Simple truths.

“I don’t know,” the mayor admitted.

“Neither do I, actually. But it seems to me, it’s better to have a working population than a rioting population,” Hephaistos said and stood up. “Look, Dimos, I know our work brings us clashing our swords by definition. You want a park made, I build it, we fight over the materials and the costs and the worker overtimes. But this,” the short man said pointing outside at the skyscrapers, “Is happening. Accept that and quit stalling on the permits.”

Dimos started a protest but cut it short.

“Thank you for the beer,” Hephaistos said and left the office in a cloud of dust.