The Predicament of Redwood Paddock Read online

  “I see. Very good,” affirmed MG, as he swung into military mode. He was confident he could extract a little more out of this situation.

  ***

  Porky wasted no time in contacting De Vere.

  “Tarquin, I pondered a little over this Fungi chap in relation to your situation, and despite some tangible risk, I feel that there are some concerns I have to pass on to the PM. If he listens to me and agrees that we need a different way of achieving the objectives of this initiative, ergo leadership, we must also have the correct structure. It is, after all, a full time remit. I will probably have to accommodate some departmental re-jigging to ensure the PM does not appear to have made a knee-jerk appointment, if he replaces this Fungus chap with a provincial man. How would you feel about stepping into the breach?”

  De Vere was digesting this, and quickly thought that it was a favour call from an old military pal, which Wilderberry-Pork was going to have to repay at some time, but that was acceptable. He must not let IR know of this before his meeting with Wishbone, but how was he to subvert the PM’s desire to have IR full time on this mission?

  “Yes I can see that this is a delicate matter Ralluph, and Councillor Richardson may now need my help even more on this subject.”

  “Your help? I don’t understand. You are from the opposition lot. That is precisely why I’m calling you. To ‘help’ implies subservience, and will be frowned upon by your party. The F.O.B. hierarchy, would however, seize the chance to have you as the main saboteur in this doomed cross-party waffle.”

  “I told Councillor Richardson that, or something along those lines, but he reminded me that we have managed to work together on other issues to the benefit of the local citizens, which if I’m not mistaken, is partly what this task is all about. In fact, wasn’t the suggestion to have cross-party local accord on the Hospice issue an HQ request?”

  “Oh yes, that’s right, but I am pretty sure it was nothing more than a calming tactic. Well, let’s see what the PM thrashes out with this Richardson.”

  ***

  As IR was leaving the office to travel to HQ, Placidus Avoidus caught up with him and gave him some cryptic message she had received from a ‘Collie?’

  “Oh yes, what is it? I’m in a hell of a rush.”

  “Curious really, he just said the Owl needs some maintenance, suffered some sort of breakdown. He did not say mechanical or nervous, but he felt you should know.”

  “Thank you, Placidus, I’ll get back to him on my return.”

  ***

  Uranus Ormine was feeling isolated. The courthouse was full of ‘citizens for the prosecution,’ and his own advocate apparent was not apparent. The fact that he had pleaded guilty to the original charge of breaking and entering (he was definitely there at the scene when law enforcement arrived) simplified the initial part of the case. It was now a matter of the verification of Pinstripe’s injuries being proved to have been inflicted by the frog. This would be tested by examination of the weapon taken from Uranus at the scene. The judge was a little confused, along with the other occupants of the courtroom, as to why this evidence had not been brought up during the original case. Buckmananov Detroit was an interested onlooker. The excuse given by the prosecution for the two charges being brought separately was that the recovery of sufficient quality DNA from the weapon was proving difficult, and had to be sent abroad to a special forensic unit for extremely elaborate analysis. Pretty imaginative.

  The highly specific results matched Ormine’s genetic imprint, and the remaining technicality was how it got there. The frog’s legal aid made a big deal of this, ranging from accidental contact to self-defence. Buckmananov Detroit, having anticipated this, as had the prosecutor, had also unearthed a witness. Malcolm G stated that he had heard the frog claim several times in the Joint, that not only had he ‘done up’ Pinstripe, but that the ‘law enforcement lot’ failed to notice he had actually taken something from the property which he had hidden in his mouth, not his sack. It was a small but expensive paperweight, with which he had struck Duke during the struggle. He had kept this artefact, to ‘fence’ it when all the fuss blew over. The witness, Malcolm G, also claimed that in his inebriated state, Ormine had revealed that his female friend was still holding his prize.

  Amaya Trollope was called and attested that an officer bearing a search warrant for her domain had found and removed the paperweight given to her by the frog.

  Additionally, Malcolm G had these conversations on the tape IR had given him. The case was adjourned while the object was tested for incriminating evidence.

  ***

  The F.O.B. party was re-shaping its image and honing new policies for the forthcoming elections. When the leader, Ruby Bickerstacks, had seen the results of the cross-party accord in Redwood Paddock, she had recoiled at the implications. Having previously held office as a mayor, this mare was all too familiar with the workings of local councils. An outright veto on such cooperation would be disastrous, in view of the gathering groundswell of public support. A more subtle disengagement would have to be conjured up. In the meantime she would speak to De Vere, although she knew nothing of Tarquin’s potential ‘sleeping with the enemy’ ambitions. The conversation would prove to be quite interesting.

  Chapter 35

  The Holo-matrix was still offline. The twiddling involved in the ‘humour chip’ had been further complicated by another addition. The inclusion of a higher capacity database to cover a multiplicity of new topics, (parliamentary speeches, trends in crime, GDP/Expenditure breakdown, the ever-changing immigration map, news broadcast feeds), to name but a few. This was a gargantuan task and although it had been debugged several times prior to piloting sessions, a cumulative treacle effect on the initially blistering processing speed had caused the buffers to stop the train. The first signs were lip-sync problems, voice distortion, and flashing screen colours with syntax alerts. As the number of citizens applying for vetting had increased dramatically, a return to the original format wasn’t acceptable, especially as user-friendliness would become more important. Help was obviously required to get on top of this. The operator couldn’t be everywhere at once, controlling sessions and updating software. Recruitment of assistance would be risky but there was little alternative. Perhaps the internet was anonymous enough to open a discussion, float theoretical options on a smokescreen project, identify the expertise, hint at a meeting, and give preference to a foreign candidate with no interest in politics. An anorak with streaks of genius who may also be ‘turned on’ by reverse infection of log-in protocols of troublesome visitors to the system. This profile might also keep the costs down.

  ***

  “Welcome Councillor Richardson, please take a seat. Tea or coffee?” enthused Wishbone.

  “Thank you PM, coffee would be great.”

  “I want to get straight to the point. Your recent activities, in bringing attention to several issues have been helpful, but difficult for our plodding behemoth of central command to take on board. My predecessor couldn’t deal with it very well, whereas I see a lot of benefit if we sharpen our focus, and establish a rudimentary mechanism of progressing such items. Avoiding embarrassment at HQ is not the priority, but has merit if we are to convince the electorate that we not only listen, but we have a team which deals with such challenging questions internally before exposing the outcome publicly. This should give confidence to voters, local and national government officials, and the party is then benefiting from a transparent road map which airs the difficulties rather than submerging them,” boomed the PM.

  “It would be fantastic if we can achieve this,” said IR, “I know there would be some areas of friction, but if we’re dedicated to fairness and flexibility it has a chance. I would, however, like to raise the subject of my own involvement in the short term. I’m currently held in some regard by our citizens in Redwood Paddock, and with the local elections almost upon us I feel our position is enhanced if I stay with my present remit. Also, the citizens may feel let
down if I move away from the local representation for which they elected me in an emergency situation, following the enforced resignation of Deprived Jimmy. It would be a double whammy, now that they have recovered some respect for their council. I wouldn’t like to risk the council falling to another party.”

  “Mmmm, I had very much wanted your presence to inspire others to think along similar lines, there’s nothing like having a success story to ignite endeavour.”

  IR sat quietly trying to juggle the various spin-offs and come up with a response which jeopardised neither the PM’s initiative nor the local feel-good factor.

  “Wouldn’t it be possible for me to be involved in the same way as when you sent Mr Fungi to see me, until I have seen through my responsibilities at local level?”

  “Well, you see, that is another question. Mr Fungi is very keen to take another post, for which the department concerned believes he has unique talents, a bit like my view of you in this role we are discussing today. I certainly do not wish to dilute this thrust with an ‘also ran’ leading the charge. Maybe I’ll have to consider delaying or shelving this until after the national election, assuming we are re-elected.”

  Nice one Will. IR didn’t want to see his entire effort to garner attention on local issues relapse into HQ resistance dogma.

  “The candidate I thought might fit the bill is from the F.O.B. party, and he has been instrumental in helping me in various ways to highlight the cases you give me so much credit for.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I will not try to force you into this role, but the opposition heading up our truly fascinating brainchild….it’s insane.”

  “Well, he is the same person who brought others into the Hospice accord, which I believe was an HQ suggestion.”

  “Yes,” said Wishbone, “but that was not a keynote policy, it was a supporting mission to further review a specific concern.”

  The PM raced through his considerable array of persuasive alchemy, resulting in, “Do you think this chap would consider joining our party for this greater good you both claim to have served already?”

  IR was floored. He wouldn’t presume to speak for Tarquin. He asked for time to consult and promised an early reply.

  “Good,” said the PM, “I really would like to build on what you have achieved, and we do have to think outside the box occasionally.”

  ***

  Hedinsand was pretty sure that if Candida had anything on Fetid McMac she would have produced it by now, and this meant that the plan was going to rely entirely on a setup of a patsy, in the future, and on his watch. Plan B might be needed. The already documented poor team ethic of Norbert Webfoot and Candida Le Whammy was perhaps a good way to discreetly ask McMac, with his new-found confidence, if he was happy with such blatant challenge to his authority. Setting the two of them at each other would eventually result in an outcome. Either Fetid would call time on a belligerently zealous defiance of Health Department directives, or Candida’s limited patience in contriving a false case against her boss would encourage her to fabricate one. It had the advantage of her thinking Trenchy’s only agenda was to ‘off’ Fetid. This, if she tried to invoke it as a defence, would fail, because it was a purely verbal understanding. Any outburst would be perceived as a rant from a deluded egotist when confronted with any level of authority, a congenital condition. Arrivederci Candida.

  ***

  Nakatolli Shogun was a fanatically reclusive personality in the conventional sense, but although initially reticent in chat rooms, he was intrigued by technical problems in a similar way to a mountaineer, who climbed something simply because it was there. He, a Fugi Monkey, interacted under various monikers, and claimed that solving this problem (he thought it was for an internet site, to help citizens interpret current affairs and legislation in a language for the lay population) would not be difficult. The main interfacing challenge would be the conflicting operating protocols of the humour chip, particularly the prompts and reception-deciphering software. The secondary potential glitch would probably be related to instant speech modification programming being time-lined with the new database access rates. This could be partly helped by an invention of his, involving parallel seeking devices. However, the basic programming really ought to be altered to get full synchronisation. He even voluntarily offered a more sophisticated log-in so that recognition of the first three characters would give some advance information of the identity, the fourth and fifth digits would sequentially eliminate all but the actual individual logging in. This would be useful if anything happened to the Old Speckled Hen, and, more important, would avoid her becoming conspicuous by continually using the pager.

  It would be necessary for Nakatolli to install these personally, as he didn’t want his intellectual property to be prejudiced. He would throw in the log-in reverse infection system as a freebie.

  ***

  Just as IR’s workload seemed to be diminishing, the in-tray blossomed again, but not from Echo. Sniffy had ‘found out’ that the exoneration of Duke and the potential additional conviction of Ormine had fired up many citizens. They had decided to stage a general protest against what they perceived as PC being at the root of difficulties in prosecution of offenders. Soft sentencing, and human rights all leading to zero deterrent for criminals and zero justice for victims. They were incensed as a society. They felt that society has become obsessed with not offending the offenders. IR had similar concerns, but knew this was a broad issue, not specific like the ones he had already taken up. He told Sniffy that targeting PC was going to happen and would take an eternity. The justice system similarly didn’t offer a precise target, and was equally ingrained into our drifting grip on lawlessness. Sniffy had concurred but said the tip-off was still important, because tackling specifics, albeit admirable, would also take forever to change the direction of the anarchy super tanker. It was a question of whether forever was longer than an eternity. He understood the hub of government had to endorse change or lead it, and being a cynic he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the latter. The citizens knew this too. “Just thought you might want to be on board.”

  This troubled IR, because he had the perfect platform offered to him by Wishbone, but had a reluctance to abandon the unique local interests totally, in favour of a command position in the resultant hundred years of conflict. He had promised to get back to the PM anyway, and owed Tarquin the courtesy of a full briefing first.

  ***

  De Vere had his heart set on celebrity but not at the admission fee of joining the W.C. party. He had to speak with Ruby. With the Holo-matrix down, IR could not confer with the Owl. Volpe, he thought, was a little too theoretical to help in this case. He was not sure that Mosey would do anything other than sit tight, and Enrico was already involved in the protest according to Sniffy. It was good in a strange way that he felt isolated in this instance.

  ***

  There were rumblings around the country of similar local groups gathering, which would hasten the PM’s deadline on a decision.

  Surprisingly, and out of the blue, Richardson accepted the role as Head of LoGo-LIMP, which was upgraded to Regional Government Secretary, with a direct conduit to the Cabinet agenda via the PM, but obviously short of (and in fact to prevent) regional assembly status.

  Sniffy hadn’t anticipated his tip-off would have led to this. Tarquin was introspective about it, but now focussed on the local elections. Mosey was devastated, and Enrico was puzzled but philosophical. The citizens began to argue amongst themselves as to whether their pressure was responsible for such an abrupt decision. Otto was delighted at the gap this action had created. Mixim did not really attach any significance to it. The Owl presumably didn’t know? Citizen Echo Tubthumper was in tears. The feel-good ambience had so swiftly been replaced by a kind of vacuum, doldrums hung over conversations. This however, didn’t dampen the swelling numbers joining the movement for more local authority and accountability.

  IR left his abode that day feeling that his glass wa
s filling up very quickly. As he walked toward the Old Oak a groan-initiating familiar silhouette appeared ahead of him.

  “Councillor Richardson!” cried Volpe with mock enthusiasm.

  “Hello.” IR retorted as he brushed past.

  The fox quickly fell into step with him, the clinking of his cane against the pavement disturbing IR’s thoughts.

  “Well, who’d have thought it? You have prized a couple of malfeasant barnacles from their self-serving rocks. Stunning.”

  “I’m busy. What do you want, Volpe?”

  “Too busy to talk to a concerned citizen, Councillor? Tsk. If you weren’t so hopelessly determined to be the charming prince in your very own political fairy tale, I’d have you down as a master psephologist.”

  IR decided he was going to remain calm this time.

  “Your empty words won’t affect me. You’re wasting your time trying to provoke me. What’s this really about?”

  Volpe shot him a calculating sideways glance.

  “Between correcting blood-boiling injustices and your attempt to align De Vere and his cronies in perfect syzygy, with their empowered opponents in a theatre of righteous indignation, have you actually given any thought to the forces actually controlling you?”

  “Oh yes….” IR said with a certain rhetorical eye-rolling, “the rich, and those media barons.”

  The fox seemed amused.

  “You are a truly unspoilt shade of green, mon avis. A pea green boat being sailed by an owl who, in turn, is being sailed by a pussycat. Charming.”

  IR tutted. “What does that even mean?”

  “It will dawn on your sensibility at some point, fear not. Methinks I can do no more here, Richardson. May fortune at least smile upon your intent.”

  “Thank you, citizen. I hope that it does.”

  Volpe stopped abruptly, Janus-faced.

  “You know, of course, that failure awaits you.”

  “I disagree,” said Richardson, “our successes to date have been more spectacular than I could have hoped for when I began……”

  He was cut off

  “Everyone in this political game is a player, Richardson, or they are a piece. You, I’m afraid, are the latter. You are useful for now, but that won’t last. You’ll find that there is nothing more likely to terminate political ambition than being right about anything when the government of the day is wrong about it. But do not despair, despite your impending personal defeat, your laudable naivety may shake the system enough for there to be real progressive change in the future. So, I repeat, good luck to you, budgerigar.”