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[From Lara Horvat’s diary. RBB]
Lara Horvat arrived on an American Airlines flight into Dulles International Airport. There were only twenty people on board. Journeys to the USA had been discouraged by most countries once they had withdrawn their diplomatic staff.
President Slimbridge made no special arrangements to ease the secretary general’s arrival. In fact, the opposite was the case. She had to clear customs like any other passenger. The scarcity of people wanting to enter the United States meant that there were no delays, but, nevertheless, she was singled out to have her luggage completely emptied and the final insult was a strip-search.
Not a little upset, she passed through into the arrivals area where she was greeted by Paula Wilson, her predecessor’s biographer who had also become her unofficial assistant. It was that unofficial tag which had protected her from President Slimbridge’s purge of United Nations’ staff.
‘Paula, how lovely to see you,’ said the secretary general as the two women exchanged cheek to cheek greetings.
‘Did you enjoy the flight? You took a long time to clear customs. Your plane arrived nearly two hours ago.’
‘Well, you know. At least it was quiet, but airline food is still airline food. As regards customs, they took everything out of my cases, and had it strewn over four tables. When they finished, they threw it all back in any order.’
‘Didn’t you object, ma’am?’
‘I think it was specially arranged for me. I was even strip-searched, including invasive examinations and a scan. I don’t believe that I was just unlucky.’
‘That’s awful. I was expecting the president to provide an official welcome for you.’
‘He did!’ said the Lara sarcastically. ‘I think he was trying to demonstrate his power and make me out to be insignificant. How are things this end? You must tell me how you’ve been getting on setting up somewhere to stay and offices.’
‘I’d rather not talk here, ma’am.’
‘No. Probably not.’
‘What I can tell you is that I’ve rented a house in H Street which is fairly central. Your meeting is set for eleven tomorrow. I’ve got permission for the car to take you in, but it meant jumping through a number of hoops. Visitors coming on foot are less likely to be a threat.’
‘What, he’s worried about assassination?’
‘Yes, ma’am. There have been threats, but they don’t get aired on the main news media. When we get to the house, we can discuss the arrangements in detail.’
The secretary general quickly realised that Paula was concerned about being bugged and left her main questions until later.
The house was large by any domestic standard, almost a mansion. It was set back from the road and surrounded by metal railings with automatic gates protecting the large turning and parking area. The limousine Paula had rented for the United Nations pulled up to the front of the house and two casually dressed men arrived to open the doors and assist with the bags.
Once inside, Paula said, ‘We’re safe to talk now. The place has been swept for bugs.’
‘Did you find any?’
‘Yes, two in the sitting room and another two in the room we’ve equipped for conferences. We’ve left them in place and staff will carry out innocuous discussions in those rooms from time to time.’
‘You’re sure there are no others?’
‘As sure as we can be. In the east wing there are four offices, including yours. Most of the domestic rooms are on the west side and upper floors.’
‘Communications?’
‘We have all the usual telephone lines, but you should take care what you say on the international line. They are probably all bugged, but certainly the international line.’
‘Internet?’
‘We have what passes as the Internet, a very restricted service, but we also have the black web coming into your office. I took the liberty of taking a spur off it for my office. Was that okay?’
‘Yes, of course. So, the offices are clear of bugs as well as the upstairs areas?’
‘As sure as we can be,’ said Paula. ‘Come this way, ma’am. There are some staff I’d like you to meet.’ Lara couldn’t fail to notice the wink Paula gave as she said the word “staff”.
The two women moved through the entrance hallway and into a small dining room, where two men in jeans and sweatshirts were sitting on barstools beside a cocktail bar in the corner of the room.
As the women entered, they both stood up smartly.
Paula said, ‘Madam Secretary General, might I introduce you to Democratic Leader Charles Mayne and his assistant, Jim Collins.’
‘Your Excellency, welcome to Washington. Sorry we couldn’t have met you more formally,’ said Charles.
‘Thank you, gentlemen. I hope you’ve not put yourselves in any danger, coming to meet me like this,’ said Lara.
‘We arrived as workmen with a plumber,’ said Jim. ‘We’ll be okay if we don’t stay too long.’
‘Fill me in on the current situation,’ said Lara, waving everybody to take a seat around the small oak dining table.
‘It’s quite amazing how quickly Slimbridge managed to gain control,’ said Charles. ‘Protests were put down by automatic weapon fire. The first, outside the White House, saw an unknown number of deaths but we think it was over seventy, and three times that number wounded to various degrees. It certainly cleared the streets.’
‘Dreadful.’
‘The second Washington demonstration was put down in exactly the same manner. Over two hundred protested but fled the moment they saw the troops. Still fifteen were killed. A protest in San Francisco ended the same way. Protesting today is done on the fly – a small number arrive with posters, banners or spray paint, put them up or scrawl slogans and disappear as quickly as they arrive.’
‘How’s the Slimbridge regime affecting the ordinary people?’
‘Well, Your Excellency...’
The secretary general interrupted, ‘Call me Lara, please.’
‘I’m Charles and Jim answers to Jim or James.
‘To answer your question, the ordinary people are not affected that much yet, but shortages are beginning to hurt. Coffee in particular, but also pineapples and bananas and the list is growing. We produce a huge amount of fruit ourselves, but it’s always been topped up by imports. Now, nothing is coming in. It’ll get worse. The US is self-sufficient in many things, but living standards will suffer. It’s only been a month. Let’s see where we are in another couple of months.’
‘I see,’ said Lara.
‘Can I ask, why exactly are you here? What’s the plan? What do you hope to achieve?’
‘Firstly, let me say that the whole world is watching this situation. The Federation have prohibited any space flight and you must have noticed that all satellites have been destroyed.’
‘Yes. You don’t realise how much you rely on the global positioning system until you don’t have it. I actually had to use a hard-copy map to direct Jim here.’
‘Where are you based?’
‘Pittsburgh.’
‘We conducted a summit in London last week,’ said the secretary general. ‘Presidents Yang, Olov, and Ramseur and Prime Minister Church were all present. They are considering an attack by a small force to take out President Slimbridge and his main backers. I wanted to attempt diplomacy first.’
‘They’re actually thinking along those lines?’
‘Yes, but there are also other ideas, like getting the Federation to engage with us and provide some assistance. President Slimbridge has made it very clear any invasion will result in a full nuclear response.’
‘You see, none of us are receiving any of this news. He’s locked down the media. You’ve a meeting organised with him?’
‘Yes, tomorrow at eleven. I must try diplomacy although I don’t expect to achieve much after my reception at the airport. I was strip-searched!’
‘Really? My God! Well, Lara, I don’t think you’ll get far with diplomacy and if they’re going to take out Slimbridge, they’ll need to hit the joint chiefs simultaneously or they’ll be quickly wiped out,’ said Charles.
‘We keep tabs on where they are,’ added Jim.
‘What are you doing to resist, Charles?’
‘Ex-army chief, General Dick Beech, is paying me a visit later in the week and we’re going to ask him to coordinate the militias,’ said Charles.
‘We heard some of them had been betrayed,’ said Lara.
‘Yes,’ said Jim. ‘The trouble is that anti-alien factions are everywhere. They’re not a large proportion of the population, but they believe all Slimbridge’s crap about an invasion, so are reporting anything they hear against the regime. The idiots think they’re saving the country. It’s our biggest problem. We’re hoping Beech will have some workable solution.’
‘Well, good luck with that, Jim, Charles,’ said the secretary general.
‘It is not the peoples’ fault, of course, they are being swept along by Slimbridge’s powerful rhetoric. They don’t know what is true or false so take the fallback position that the president must be telling the truth. They believe him because it fits in with what they are hearing and seeing,’ said Charles.
‘Yes, we know how easily people can be deceived,’ said Lara.
‘Look, Lara, we’re a danger to you and ourselves while we’re here. It was great to meet you and had to be done, but we need to get away,’ said Charles.
‘Don’t worry. I understand, and I now have the ability to report back some positives to the Security Council,’ said Lara. ‘You’ll stay in regular touch?’
‘Be sure of it,’ said Charles.
‘I’ll tell the plumber we’re ready to go,’ said Jim, leaving the room.
The three stood and followed him through to the kitchen area, where they said their goodbyes. Charles Mayne and Jim Collins then left in the back of a somewhat battered grey van with “Ace Plumbers” printed on the side.
‘Brave men,’ said Lara.
‘Indeed.’
‘I’ll show you around the offices and second floor,’ said Paula and led the secretary general on a tour of the rest of the house.
‘You know, Perfect Okafor, spoke very fondly of you, Paula.’
‘That’s good to hear. It was such an awful shock when the news finally got out about New York,’ said Paula who broke down in tears. ‘She was... such a... lovely person.’
‘Yes. It is a tragedy. You will still write your book?’
Paula recovered her composure. ‘Yes, when the time is right. I’ve spent the past four weeks putting it into some semblance of order. It kept my mind occupied. I lost a lifelong friend who was apartment-sitting while I was away and I know it’s trivial, considering the loss of human life, but a very dear cat I’d had since I was at college died too,’ Paula said, choking back tears.
‘Are you happy to work for me?’ asked the secretary general.
‘Oh, yes. I’d love to.’
‘Right. I’ll let it be known that you are my personal assistant. That should offer you some protection.’
‘I’m small fry,’ Paula said. ‘They won’t be interested in me. I’ll need to show proof of my position in order to travel internationally, though. This is your office, ma’am.’
Lara looked around the room and took in the view of the shrubs in the yard. ‘Very nice.’
‘Let me know if you need any extra furniture or anything.’
‘This all looks fine. Desk, chair and that visitors’ area is good too,’ she said, walking over to a lounge suite at one side of the room. ‘Okay. We’ll get your credentials set up. For now, I want to unpack and get the creases out of my clothes. Then I’ll come back down and get my thoughts in order for tomorrow’s meeting with the president. I’d like you to come with me. Two pairs of eyes are better than one while we’re in the White House.’
‘Certainly, ma’am. Let me show you to your bedroom and the domestic areas,’ said Paula, and the two women climbed the impressively wide staircase.
««o»»
[Mainly from Paula Wilson’s recordings and Lara Horvat’s cell phone recorder, but also the meeting with the president later extracted from clearer, secret White House tapes. RBB]
The secretary general was not expecting the media reception she received at the White House. The entrance was surrounded by television crews and journalists.
‘Now what?’ said Lara.
‘I think he’s pulling a fast one, ma’am,’ said Paula.
‘I was certainly not expecting a press conference. He must have an ulterior motive.’
The UN limousine slowed to a stop, causing the press to move to one side as Lara and Paula exited the vehicle. There was an immediate cascade of flash photography and shouted requests for comments on the reason for the visit.
All of a sudden, a hush fell over the media mob. President Slimbridge had emerged from the White House, smiling at and acknowledging individuals in the press pack. He marched purposefully over to the secretary general and shook her hand with a deliberately crushing grip. He guided her towards a lectern which sported the global icon which represented the United Nations. Beside it stood another bearing the seal of the president of the United States. They took their positions, the secretary general looking very short indeed behind the oversized lectern. She was much shorter than Perfect Okafor and wondered if this was another deliberate attempt by the president to intimidate her or diminish her importance.
President Slimbridge, full of smiles, began, ‘It gives me great pleasure to welcome Secretary General Horvat, which clearly demonstrates that the United States is being welcomed back into the international community of nations after the dreadful terrorist attack upon the United Nations last month. Both the FBI and CIA are still trying to track down exactly who was responsible for planting the nuclear device under the UN building. We will find them, and they will suffer the full force of the law.
‘Perhaps you would like to say a few words, Madam Secretary,’ said the president, resting his hands on the sides of the lectern and turning towards Lara Horvat.
More flash photography took place and the television cameras swung around to zero in on her.
‘Thank you, Mr President. I welcome the opportunity to discuss a range of issues with you today and that is the reason for my visit,’ she said, immediately followed by a clamour of questions.
‘No questions, sorry,’ the president said to the press and to the secretary general, ‘Right. Let’s go inside.’ The president turned away from the lecterns and returned to the entrance to the White House, followed by the secretary general.
They passed quickly through the lobby and into the Oval Office. The president’s secretary took Paula Wilson to an anteroom and provided some coffee.
‘Been in here before?’ the president asked.
‘Yes, once, for a meeting with Secretary General Okafor and President Spence,’ the secretary general said brusquely, knowing the president wouldn’t like the mention of his and her predecessors.
‘Well, take a seat,’ he said, planting himself behind his desk, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms defensively. ‘Let’s not beat around the bush. Why are you here? What do you want?’
‘Mr President, thank you for seeing me at such short notice. Almost every country in the world wanted to join the Federation and the action of the, er, “terrorists” in New York has caused the Federation to ostracise us until such time as the world can speak with one voice. You’ve isolated the United States and I’m here to ascertain your position.’
‘The Federation have shown their true colours then, abandoning you all. Their communist regime will never work for the USA. I can’t imagine a time when we could vote in favour.’
‘But, Mr President, you’ve been to Federation worlds and seen how well the system works for almost a quarter of a million civilisations. It’s the fact that all manual labour is done by the automatons that allows the system to work. I agree it couldn’t work in the old Soviet manner.’
‘See,’ he said, raising his voice, ‘this is exactly the sort of bullshit which Spence swallowed, hook, line and sinker. The Federation only took us to worlds which they’d specially prepped to suit their needs. We never saw the worlds with shortages in shops and communist state-owned business regimes which forced them to work countless hours for a pittance.’
‘There is no evidence whatsoever of any of that!’ the secretary general said forcefully.
‘You’re being naïve, you’re all being naïve. Have you been to their worlds?’
‘No, but I hope to investigate several of them when the next opportunity arises.’
‘Ha! The whole ploy was aimed at lulling us into a false sense of security and then to steal our best brains and technology.’
‘Mr President! You cannot seriously believe that we have any technology which would advance the Federation. You’ve seen their robots, shuttles, farm and manufacturing machinery. What on earth would they want from us?’
‘Exactly! That is exactly my point. They come here, all sweetness and light, to plough billions of dollars into our economies all on the basis that they are benevolent to all peoples. No one behaves like that, no one! It’s a con!’
‘I believe you are wrong. There are many humans who behave like that, volunteering to help other people. It is an admirable way of life.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Just because a few liberal do-gooders behave that way, does not mean that an entire empire can.’
‘Okay, Mr President. Let’s move on. We’ve heard about military shootings of people making peaceful protests. What’s going on there?’
‘They were organised by the same terrorists who blew up New York. We have done the world a service by tackling them. These weren’t peaceful protesters; they were intent on disrupting the business of the United States of America and many were armed. Most were arrested. Unfortunately, some were shot by police defending themselves.’
‘That is not what I’ve seen and heard. Also, most of the world’s leaders believe it was you who was instrumental in blowing up the UN headquarters, not some never-before-heard-of terrorists.’
‘That is patently ridiculous. I was actually in a police cell at the time. How was I meant to have orchestrated it?’
‘Where did the weapon come from?’
‘It was stolen from the military. The people responsible for taking the bomb have been dealt with. It was most unfortunate but nothing to do with me. I’m insulted that you might imagine I’d do such a thing.’
‘Don’t shoot the messenger, Mr President. I’m only telling you what other leaders are saying. Perhaps you can explain why you have refused diplomatic contact and isolated America. What are you trying to achieve through that?’
‘Well, you can take a clear message back to my critics that I absolutely deny any involvement in the New York terrorist attack. We’ll open the USA to the rest of the world when our ambassadors are invited back to their countries. It’s they who expelled our embassy staff, not the other way around!’
The meeting continued for another thirty minutes before the president called a halt, saying he had other meetings to attend.
‘Thank you for your time, Mr President,’ the secretary general said, rising from her seat. ‘I still do not understand your dislike of the Federation.’
‘It’s not the Federation per se, but their whole economic ethos.’
‘Can we not spend some time talking about that to help me understand and report back to members?’
‘No,’ said the president. ‘Anyways, I can’t express the complexities as well as some others. Give me a moment... I’ll get someone who can outline the reasoning behind our policies.’
The president pressed his intercom then picked up a handset. ‘Matthew, can you see the secretary general. She’s with me now and asking questions you’re far better equipped to answer.’
He listened to the reply. Lara Horvat stood silently, doubtless wondering who “Matthew” was.
‘Okay, she’s leaving in a moment,’ the president said, then turned to the secretary general and said, ‘My economic advisor, Matthew Brown, will talk to you about the Federation’s policies and ethos.’
‘Thank you again for your time, Mr President,’ she said.
‘My pleasure, Your Excellency, but I must say that I am unhappy with your tone and attitude,’ said the president, accompanying her through to his secretary’s office.
‘No more unhappy than I was being strip-searched at Dulles Airport on my arrival, Mr President,’ she said, loud enough to be clearly heard by the secretary.
‘Deirdre, the secretary general is meeting with Matthew. He’ll be here shortly,’ he said before returning to the Oval Office and shutting the door, somewhat more loudly than necessary.
‘I’m sure Mr Brown will be here soon. Please take a seat,’ said the secretary but, at that moment, a tall white man in his thirties with a buzz cut hairstyle and immaculate charcoal grey suit, marched into the office.
‘Pleased to meet you, Your Excellency,’ he said, offering his hand.
The secretary general shook it and thanked him for seeing her.
‘Come this way,’ he said. ‘Would you like some coffee?’
‘Yes, please, Mr Brown. I’d like my assistant to join us if we’re going to listen to your views on the complicated structure of the Federation.’
‘No problem. Deirdre, can you bring Her Excellency’s assistant through to the small conference room?’
‘Actually, she’s already in there.’
‘Right, fine,’ Matthew Brown said as he guided Lara Horvat through the West Wing to a small conference room where Paula was sitting, reading her Kindle.
They all sat down at the main table and Matthew Brown asked one of the assistants to fetch coffee and biscuits for them.
He sat back in his seat, made a steeple of his hands, and asked, ‘What would you like to know?’
The secretary general said, ‘The Federation offers ordinary people the chance to live a better life than they do now, an end to war, poverty, famine, and disease. The rest of the world is finding it impossible to understand why the United States of America would not want to share in these benefits.’
Matthew Brown thought for a few moments, ‘It is complex, but let me start by saying that the individuals may have a good life, but they have lost all opportunity for self-development. Without that, society will become static and stale. No proper rewards for innovation and invention.
‘The Federation is communist. It requires total control and that’ll stifle change. Vicissitudes will cease. With the state and automatons running everything, there’ll be no inspiration to improve life. Geniuses will waste their talents looking after chickens or building model railroads. It’s anathema to any ambitious, thinking person.
‘The result will be that no one will have their own possessions and everyone will be forever dictated to by the “communist” state. Even their cultures and religions are being dictated.’
‘Have you been to any of their worlds?’ the secretary general asked.
‘No, but I can visualise them. All I need to do is look at old film footage of the Soviet Union. We’ve seen it all before. It didn’t work then, and it won’t work now or at any time in the future. Large houses, taken from their owners and turned into tawdry apartment blocks. People corralled into grim concrete buildings.
‘Also, stripping people of their jobs and only giving them a few hours a week in employment will drive them mad. My own father was a filling station assistant in his later working years. When he retired, he was completely lost and, after a few weeks, he asked for his old job back and worked there until he was in his late seventies. People want to feel useful. Make them feel useless and you destroy them.’
‘Would you take the opportunity to discuss any of this with a Federation representative if the chance ever arose?’
‘I’ll argue the common sense of our viewpoint with anyone, Your Excellency.’
‘And the famine in the world,’ said the secretary general, ‘the wars, the greed and selfishness we see with ninety-five per cent of the world’s wealth being controlled by two per cent of the world’s population. One person can be worth a hundred billion dollars, while a mother in Myanmar is trying to feed her children on less than a dollar a day. You prefer that? For that’s what we have today.’
‘It’s the wealthy who are the innovators, who create the jobs for other people so that they, too, can benefit from their innovations. Things are improving for the poor all the time. It trickles down from the wealthy. If people in other countries can’t control their populations nor live within their means, that’s not our responsibility. The United States, for decades, has handed out aid to underdeveloped countries as famine or disaster relief. Where do you think the money for that comes from? It comes from the fact that business and people generate wealth. You cannot be generous if you’re living in poverty yourselves.’
Lara took a deep breath and said, ‘Thank you for seeing us, Mr Brown, but we need to leave now. Your thoughts on the Federation are very useful and will be of interest to other UN delegates.’
‘There is still a United Nations then?’
‘Yes. A piece of land has been donated by Great Britain and construction of a new headquarters is underway to replace the building destroyed by the... er... terrorists.’ The secretary general’s emphasis on the word “terrorists” made it quite clear what she thought of that term.
Matthew Brown stood. ‘Come this way, please, Your Excellency.’
Paula and Lara followed him through to the main reception area where he passed them over to an assistant. They were shown through to the entrance where the car was waiting.
All signs of the media were well and truly gone.
Once in the car, Lara asked, ‘Did you record that?’
‘Absolutely!’
‘Type it up for me, please, Paula. Here’s the recorder from my bag, too.’