The 6th of Intas - Forenoon
Ilvane. Another non-entity. There is little to know less to care about Ilvane. A short, nearly spherical man of perhaps fifty. Flyaway yellow hair that points in whatever direction the political winds blow. And if they’re blowing from all sides? Well, Ilvane would probably be torn to rhetorical pieces, each muttering some useless platitude in direct opposition to the others. Typical.
Bellwether. Running circles around Ilvane? Well, that should be simple. Just wait for some opinion to turn him around another direction and slip behind him. Still, the Bellwether may be one to watch. The files of his mind carry almost no information about her. Must be new. Or rising from obscurity. He makes a mark by her name. Later, he will learn what he can. Now, here, he simply nods.
The Incumbent is not Sound
No, he is not. Not if he cannot now remember his own opinions. He will have to be supplied with new opinions. Sound opinions.
“Incumbent, if you are having trouble remembering your old position, and I presume this dates from before your illness?”? Of course it will. The old Incumbent seem to be a mystery to this new one. The attack must have been worse that was let on. Small wonder the man’s movements are stiff and his voice strained. Shrikeweed takes down another name. The Incumbent, as he was, will need to be unearthed. The Incumbent as he is will be of little assistance. Curious.
“I will have to locate the minutes of that last meeting. I assume minutes were taken?” The Incumbent as he was, did not keep a useful staff. Shrikeweed doubts there are minutes. All to the better. Without the minutes, then there is no official reality to the discussion. It did not happen. Any memories to the contrary must be, perforce, mistaken. “Tell Ilvane and Maurier that you are reconsidering your views. You need not state what those views are. That is of little importance. It is your prerogative to reconsider.” The smile upon the Shrikeweedian face expands slightly. “Have them present their arguments to you, their position papers. If they have none, then condemn their inefficiency and slapdashedness. If they do have them, snatch them up and end the meeting. I will review the papers and provide you with analysis.” Just as soon as he determines what the sound position is.
The writs. Useless things. A meaningless affectation. A sign that the government considered its position weak. A gap in the armor of civic order. Better to do away with the idea. With the enforcement. A gap , once seen, can be exploited, widened. Better to close it off now. There are too many gaps. Too many places for discontent to fester. Current policy invites discontent, invites chaos, Revolution. He shudders. Better to have them reading in the open. Easier to monitor, harder for secret societies to from. That would be sound policy. Sound policy is rarely popular.
At least on the policy of coffee the Incumbent appears more than sound. A hope. A very small hope. Should he recommend The Elephant? No. Not yet. The place is too much his own. He will watch, and wait. And if the Incumbent proves to be less useless than his ilk? If he can me made sound ? The perhaps. For now, The Elephant is his. That does not mean that nothing can be done. Will Sebele lend him one of her staff? Possible, for the right fee. The Incumbent needs staff. Shrikeweed needs staff. An interesting approach.
“As to the matter of the coffee, sir. I belive I may be able to so something about it. I make no guarantees, and I will need to requisition funds. Rather more funds that you might at first consider wise. Yet if all goes well, within a day or so, we could both be seated here reading through position papers over Mugrobi coffee. What could be more civilized?”