Escape from Drawer B-587
Jerry Knowland closed the appointment ledger with a bang.
It was already eight o’clock at night and he'd been at it all day. He glanced
out the huge bank of windows to his side and could barely see the mountain peaks
it was already so dark. When he heard Horne knock he felt like throwing the
damn book at him, but instead called him in and put on a tired grin.
"I am done for the day. I won't see any more
petitioners."
But…but...but"
"Well go on, tell me what is it so I can send you home
too."
"It’s your Viceroy, Your Highness, he has been waiting
for three days to see you. He has said it is urgent, but you keep putting him
off."
"Did you see that stack of folders he is holding on
his lap? All for me." He didn't add that the Viceroy was one of the people
his dad told him to watch out for before he died. He is dangerous for some
reason and I am too tired to deal with him. “Horn, I am a new king; have pity
on me. It's time to go home for you and me.”
"What shall I tell the Viceroy?"
“Tell him to go to hell and take the rest of the crowd with
him."
Horn just stood there waiting for something real to say so
Jerry added with a sigh, "Ok, Tell him I will see him for, “he looked down
at his watch, “Five minutes only, and then it's out. If he has more to say he
can wait in line with the rest of the kingdom.”
The first thing the Viceroy did when he came into the
office room was bow to Jerry. This made Jerry's nerves jump. One of the first
things he'd decreed was there would be no more bows. Incised, Jerry
deliberately looked at his watch and said, “Five minutes, that's all. My last
appointment was with the Sudanese ambassador.”
Humph, well, if I only have five minutes then I'll get
right to the point and you don't need to worry about the CEO for Nexton Corp.
he's been taken care of. "
“What do you mean, 'taken care of?'"
“That is what I am here to talk to you about. How we take
care of things for the kingdom.
“You take care of things? Then what am I doing here?
Explain please.”
“Well, we do what needs to be done to keep the kingdom
viable. Can't let some CEO or National leader run our economy down or turn
public opinion against us."
“I still want to know what you mean by ‘taken care of.’”
"His obituary will be in the news this week."
"His obituary!”
Jerry almost stood up but thought better of it and stayed
seated. At the sure, solid look on the viceroy’s face his stomach did a flip.
"But I just met with the man yesterday. Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes. I am sure. His heart gave up under extreme
stress, so to speak."
His smile during these words was sickening. Jerry began to
fear the worst.
“I had not been informed.”
"No one knows yet. They will by tomorrow."
“You
got to be kidding."
Jerry
mentally kicked himself for advertising his youthfulness with words. He had to
be careful. So many cutthroats and manipulators took note of his every move
that it was unnerving. In the few short months he'd been king, he had learned
to suspect everyone’s motive. He had to stay on his toes to prevent being made
a puppet king. His shrewd ability to watch facial features had served him well.
Now this confrontation was something new.
The
Viceroy’s smile suddenly turned into a serpent covered with scales, tongue ready
to strike. He shook his head to clear it.
“No, I am not kidding.” The Viceroy answered.
With a shrug of his tired shoulders now weighted even more,
Jerry said, “Go on.”
We
are a secret group who takes care of the kingdom for the royal leaders, who
ever they happen to be or how ever long they rein. Right now, this means you.
Which brings me to why I am here.”
Jerry
noticed a stern look come over the man’s face but a more relaxed pose, as if he
were enjoying a private joke. The snake was about to strike.
“Your payment on the contract is due in three
weeks. I have here a number of folders with all the work we have done on the
contract through the years. The first folder has a paper that defines how you
should make payment and a copy of the contract.”
The
Viceroy walked to the desk and set the folders down.
"Why don't you tell me.” Jerry said with a smirk.
"I sure it will be enlightening."
"Oh, you will be enlightened. Your wife will be needed
for copulation with one of us on the date stated in the first folder.”
"What...did I hear you right? Copulation?" Jerry
did rise out of his chair this time.
"I think it is time for you to leave," Jerry
said, his grin tightening on his face.
"I have underlined that clause in the contract if you
would like to read the contract now."
"This is crazy, nutty." Jerry, leaning on his
desk was becoming fascinated by this man's daring aplomb. His finger was on the
button to have his guards in here in a second.
“It wasn't so,” the Viceroy blinked before he mouthed the
word, “Nutty 570 years ago when the contract was signed and agreed upon.”
"Five hundred seventy years ago? Contracts don’t last
that long. People die." He relaxed slightly because if there was any truth
in all this, which he doubted, it would be easy to nullify something that old.
“Kingdoms don’t.”
The ugly little man had a point.
"Well, you can forget coupling with my new bride.” At
that moment he almost wished the kingdom still had a dungeon with working
torture racks. Finally he'd had enough. “I'll look into this matter. Leave your
papers here for now." Jerry stood up tall as a gesture that it was time
for this stupid man to leave but the man dared to speak once more.
"That I can not do. I must keep possession of them. I
meant for you to read the top folder before I leave.”
“You are leaving immediately. If you want me to read a
contract, it will be at some other time. You are dismissed.” Jerry was so angry
he was afraid it was showing on his face.
The ugly little man sighed and picked up his stack of
folders smiling. “But there is a copy in your own archives. Drawer B 587. This
is top secret. It must not be discussed with anyone until you have read the
whole contract. The consequences would be devastating, otherwise."
"Leave immediately. I will check into these so called
facts, when I can." Jerry’s exasperation with this little man was about to
make him loose his temper. It was a good thing the man finally left with his
pile of folders but not before sliding a slip of paper to Jerry's desk with
Drawer B 587 typed neatly in its center. The little snake knew I would need it.
Jerry hurried into his personal chambers as soon as the
Viceroy left and stated he wanted to be left alone, then he immediately poured
himself a glass of wine. Best damn wine in the world, but with an
unpronounceable name. Too bad I wasn't raised to be king. Feeling more relaxed
now and even laughing at himself, he sat down in the soft chair and swung his
body around so he could put his feet up on the table. Now this is a king for
you. He laughed and swirled his wine.
To get his mind off the Viceroy he turned his mind towards
his new circumstances and let the memories of his coronation play for a few
minutes and wondered once again how he got here. How did I let them force me
into this? Who could imagine a whole family, every last one of them, dead with
a single bomb? Damn, I didn't ask for this job, or did I? Dad always said it
could be a possibility one day. Was he prophetic or a just a shrewd thinker?
Well, they all thought I'd be a pushover because I am young. Need to keep on
top. Damn crazy, what is it they want anyway?
He swirled the dark red wine in the glass and watched it
coat the crystal. Beautiful. Ok, time to think about this new crap. Sex with my
wife. Are they nuts? Damn if I am going to let some screwball frog face go to
bed with my lovely bride. He smiled at the memory of Kenna walking down the
wedding isle. Wish she was back from
The new elevator didn't open into this end of the castle so
it was going to be a long way down into the archives. The million stairs seemed
to go on forever, level after level of cold stone and getting colder. It seemed
as if every landing was darker and danker then the one above. The lighting was
old modern and the stairs were wore down to pits and gouges from age.
With
his imagination expanding at every dark corner, Jerry knew his guards were
getting jittery too; so, he began throwing jokes at his two personal guards who
he called, Mutt and Jeff. They were too uptight to let him call them by the
nicknames. “It’s just not done,” they had explained to him. Well now, he could
tell they were becoming jittery and perplexed by this strange night trip, but
asked no questions. Not even when he took a wrong turn and they wound up in a
dusty storage room full of armor and wooden cabinets draped in white cloths.
They both snickered in discomfort.
"Sorry
guys" They smiled with him as he threw up his hands and shook his head.
Once more Jerry bent down and read the map torn in the folds it was so old.
"Damn place is big as a city." Mutt and Jeff laughed at that and then
stopped, ashamed.
"Hey,
guys, it's ok to laugh if I decree it? Ok?"
They
didn’t answer so Jerry turned and began climbing down more flights of stairs.
They walked through a long cobweb at one landing. "Wonder how long that's
been there. Would you both like a job as housekeeper? No response. "I was
just kidding guys. Place is getting a little spooky, aye Mutt and Jeff. Doesn't
anyone ever go into these archives?”
With
each step they took they seemed to move backwards in time. After a million
turns he folded up the map and shouted, "Found it."
They
stood before a large room that took up the whole floor, a very considerable
size that was devoted to the oldest records. Stacks of wooden and steel
cabinets lined every wall and snaked across in isles that seemed to numerous to
count. Each line of cabinets rose to near ceiling height beneath long isles of
shadow. The room reminded Jerry of some old dusty library, a giant one. He
instructed his guards to wait inside by the door while he went down one isle
and then another looking for Drawer B 587.
Damn, good thing the drawers are lettered and numbered. The
very oldest records seemed to start at numbers without letters. Ah, here, A
section. Five minutes later he found B section and finally B 587. Didn't know
there were so many records in the world outside of the United States Library of
Congress.
He slowly pulled on Drawer B 587 and it reluctantly groaned
and screeched out of its slot. Hadn't been opened in a very long time.
Mutt
called out to him from around the bend, “Is all well?”
“Sure,
be out in a minute.”
There
was a rectangular red metal box inside with a label in some language Jerry
didn't recognize. Nothing odd about that, he didn't recognize most languages in
the world. A few strange symbols were drawn below the label and circled a small
keyhole. He checked the set of keys in his pocket and found that the smallest
key fit the narrow hole, which turned easily. The box swished open to reveal a
folded up piece of old, yellow parchment. The real thing. It must be delicate.
Jerry considered whether he should read it down here or take it upstairs so he
could read it in comfort. Comfort won. He closed the red lid, put the box under
his arm, and walked towards the guards, "Now lets try to find out way up
and out of here."
They
grinned with pleasure as he took the lead up the first flight of stairs.
"If I get lost, we all do; so yell if you think I am making a wrong
turn."
Their
shoes clapped against the stone stairs as they climbed higher and higher, a
little more slowly at each landing.
"Was
a little easier going down, hey?"
He suspected that none of them minded the
clapping noise of their boots as they tried to hurry back up the stairs because
it chased the creepy, haunted house feeling back into the shadows. Jerry began
to whistle and motioned for his guards to join in the revelry but they refused,
too busy guarding. Finally, they made it back to his private rooms with no
problem but a slight loss of breath. He saluted Mutt and Jeff good night, which
made them frown. The joke wasn't in good taste. Jerry laughed the harder.
Inside his apartment, after he poured a glass of wine, he
opened the box once more. He treated the parchment carefully as if it were very
valuable as probably it was. He opened it and saw that although it wasn’t in
English, it was written in a language he knew-Latin. This was a lucky break. He'd learned Latin as
an alter boy at St. Author’s when he was younger. How old was this document? He
looked at the bottom and saw it was signed and dated for the year of our Lord,
Thirteen Thirty Three.
After he read a few lines he decided he better sit down.
This was an amazing piece of paper. But it can't really be valid, can it?
Actually as it turned out it didn't matter. The threat was implicit in the
nature of the person who signed it along with the head of state at the time. He
didn’t' recognize the name but the royal seal was embossed on the parchment. It
boiled down to an agreement between a group of people who called them selves
The Satani. Then there was a few terms that described their specialty and at
first Jerry thought he must be reading it wrong so he double-checked his quick
translation. No, he’d translated right. Satani meant the people of the altering
face or face changers. Hadn’t he read some vague reference once to such people
in
He read the contract once more, slowly.
Essentially, it stated that the Satani agreed to guard the kingdom from harm.
Their payment for such services, due once every fifty years, was a secluded
meeting with the royal queen to couple for the purpose of achieving an
offspring. The exact dates were listed when payment had been made and when it
should be made in the future.
Jerry's first impulse was to laugh and throw
the document away in the trash, ancient or not, but he knew better. This was no
joke; you don't write jokes on parchment that is five hundred years old. Even
so, there was no way he was going to give in to such outlandish and outmoded
demands. Go to a damn sperm and bank for your offspring. What ninnies they must
be. That's all they need to do and that is exactly what I will tell them, flat
out. Hell, I'll even pay for it if they insist on keeping the contract.
Then he sat back in his easy chair and contemplated what it
might mean if there really were such monsters as face-changers in the world.
Could this be for true? He envisioned people doubled by mock faces and then a
whole crowd with the same faces and realized his imagination might be running
away from reality. But damn who knows what is real if people could change the shape
of their face? Face recognition is a very valuable human trait. We’re born with
it. How do we know who a person is if their face is different? Guess that's the
point, but what does it portend for the kingdom?
When
he tried to imagine what the possibilities would be if one of these
face-changers could become any person on the planet, important people, leaders
who make vital decisions. Jerry's nerves ran cold at the potential evil that
could be done between nations and probably was done over the years to aid this
kingdom. The kingdom was what he had to think of first, the people deserved no
less, but he would not be blackmailed into continuing this charade of face
people’s contract. He intended to find a way to finish it.
His crash course in history didn't help him grab at the
important dates or events the face-changers might have interfered with, but he
supposed they’d been an outstanding weapon against fate. Jerry had no doubts
that the weapon had been used numerous times. Like the CEO at Nexton Corporation,
suddenly dead from stress? He wondered for a moment how they had achieved that,
then decided he didn't want to know.
Don't
matter. The little snake won't get what he came for. I have vast resources at
my disposal and an army of people who could check out these dates and figures.
Under wraps, of course. Who do I dare tell? In fact, what would happen if I
just ignored all this? He decided he didn't want to find out. This damn threat
is worse than a bomb.
“I
will not give in to monsters.” He said out loud and slammed his crystal wine
glass down on the table. It was a testament to its good quality that it didn't
break. "I will stop this rape of the kingdom somehow.”
The next morning he called Horne in and canceled all his
appointments for the day, “And maybe the rest of the week.” He told him. “By
the way, who would you say is the oldest person still living who ever served as
a royal advisor?
"That would be Sir Stimple. He must be eighty by now.
Hadn’t heard of his death so he must still be kicking." Horne actually
smiled at his pretense of a joke. Amazing.
"If he’s that old, I’ll go to him. Set up an
appointment right away. Today would be best, tomorrow at the latest.
"Yes, your Majesty," Horne said as he left shaking
his head at the list of canceled appointments in his book. Jerry smiled. He had
disrupted the kingdom with his 'modern ways' again. It seems that I turn
everything topsy-turvy as my wife, Keena would say. He enjoyed it, making fun
of old, stuffy rules, but not the rest, not all the paper work and decisions
that came with the job. He wondered if he would ever get used to it. Ok, enough
dawdling, to work.
He
called in twenty people and put them on research looking through history of the
kingdom and then to list snares or trouble spots that the kingdom might have
miraculously escaped from. Unfortunate that he couldn’t tell the researchers
exactly what they were looking for; he didn't dare. He’d need to do some of the
research himself.
After two days of intense research and work Jerry called
the Viceroy to meet with him in his office. As he entered, the Viceroy bent in
a low bow to his person and Jerry wanted to puke in anger.
“Never
mind the fake reverence,” Jerry said as he scrutinized his face for any sign of
change. “Let’s just get to the point. I have decided that you people can go to
a fertility clinic of some kind. He pulled a list out of his pocket and set it
down on the desk. That should serve your needs. That is your purpose, is it
not, offspring?”
“Like any other group, we need to replenish our stock.
Because of our delicate nature we sometimes become confused as to our true
self. This after a prolonged life of hundreds of years, you understand.”
“In
other words, you go crazy.”
“I
suppose you could put it like that if you insist.”
Jerry had a sudden
realization that the man standing here wasn’t aware that he was now Jerry’s
enemy. He believed the relationship between the kingdom and his face-changers
would continue as usual. Good time to wring info from this nut. Know your
enemy, as they say.
‘How
many of you are there?’
The
Viceroy looked startled at Jerry’s question.
“Oh,
you are concerned about our viability? There are enough of us currently in
existence to serve the kingdom, I can assure you.
“So
now there are only a few sane ones left? Maybe one?”
“No,
and you misunderstand. The confusion at change is not much different that what
you would call a mild senility.”
“Well,
since you or your kind will be so senile he won’t mind if you go to a fertility
clinic for your offspring. Very good selection, I am told.”
The little man became so upset you’d have thought Jerry’d
punched him. Not a bad idea.
“Oh,
no, that would never do. No, no, no.”
“Why
not? An offspring is an offspring. And besides I can tell you that my wife will
never consent to your demands. She is not from this country and so has not
developed the same degree of loyalty as you have. She won’t stand for it and I
won’t let her. My wife is a beautiful young women and you are at least eighty
or more. She’d think you were crazy. The clinic is the only choice. That is
final.”
At Jerry’s words the
Viceroy turned around and Jerry thought he’d won and the man was about to
leave.
“Here,
please take the list of clinics with you.” Jerry began to rise from his chair.
Then the Viceroy turned back around and looked at Jerry.
What Jerry saw shook him up so bad he needed to sit again. He groped his hands
backwards to find the arms of his chair before he fell into it because he
didn’t think his legs could hold him up for another minute.
What
faced him was not the Viceroy but his own face. The face moved itself with a
smile just as its voice said, “She won’t know the difference.” You will be
secluded for the short time it takes for our,” the Viceroy seemed to snicker,
“meeting.”
Jerry
couldn’t answer through his shock. Pull it together, damn it. You knew what
they are; so what. It means nothing at all. Jerry felt his face grin as he rose
up from the chair and stood tall next to his desk.
“Nevertheless,”
Jerry spoke in a very calm voice, “It is my contention that my bride will not
be needed for replenishment of your stock. You will pick out the eggs with
whatever traits you desire at a clinic of your choice.”
“Our
stock must be born of royalty. How else can we continue to serve the kingdom in
such a highly refined manner.”
“It
is my further contention, that the contract be dissolved. This kingdom no
longer requires you services.“
At
this, the man’s facial tissue began to melt and reform. As he continued to look
at Jerry and his eyes changed back to their original color, he said, “Remember
you have less than three weeks to prepare. I suggest you read the contract for
the specific details. The proper set up must be prepared and waiting. Our
requirements are quite simple. You will comply.”
“No,
you are mistaken.” Jerry said grinding his teeth beneath the grin.
“No,
you are,” said the viceroy, now completely back wearing his own face. He
sneered, “Who is with your wife with at this moment?”
“She
is in
“Yes,
and you don’t know if her lady in waiting is one of us do you?”
With
that the viceroy gave a short curtsey, turned and walked to the door.
All
night, Jerry paced, his thoughts running so fast they threatened to collide
into each other. No way will I give in to that little squirt of a man. Or any
of them. There must be a way to get out of this. Must be. Have the SOB killed?
Even that wouldn't work. Where are the other two? Who are they? I need help.
Must be somewhere to go for help. I have a whole damn kingdom to draw from. He
got angry at this and banged his fist down on the desk. "Damn."
startling his guards who had just returned to his room. I need to think, the
more he thought the more his mind seemed to swim in still deep waters.
Can’t
do this alone. Need help. Jerry halted his pacing and stepped into the outer
office to tell his secretary to call Sir Stimple because he was on his way to
Stimple’s house right now. He began walking to the door but stopped, "And
give me the address." He took the slip of paper his secretary handed him
and run out the door, guards following. Shows how much this SOB has me in a
lather, can't even remember to get an address.
He
quickly headed towards the garage for his Mercedes. His chauffeur came running
after him but he waved him off and called out he'd rather drive himself. Then
jumped in the car, the guards running right behind but left behind as he roared
out to the countryside. He noticed they had commandeered a car to follow. He
mused to himself that even a king lacks freedom in today’s world.
He pulled up to a large country estate and
almost ran up the walk. The door opened to admit him without his needing to
knock. He told his guards who pulled up behind him to wait out in their car
while he talked to Sir Stimple.
Sir
Stimple seemed to know why he had come. The look on his face was grave.
"You
seem to know why I am here?"
"Yes,
I believe I do. Can't imagine anything else that would send the king running
through a beautiful fall countryside in such a hurry."
"What
are these people? I won't give in. There must be a way out of this." Jerry
began pacing and weaving in and around the old sofa and tables in the room. He
couldn’t stand still and certainly couldn’t sit.
"King
John thought so to. We tried everything we could think of. King John even went
to a shyster lawyer, riff raff, you know, didn’t' t do any good. No good at
all." Had to pay the lawyer off too.
"I
don't care what it costs, I need to get these people off my back. Out of the
kingdom for good. My people deserve better than this.
"Their
payment must be almost due. When?
"Three
weeks from now. Not much time. With all the technology we have today maybe we
can trick them somehow? Can't understand how this started to begin with.”
"It
was a do or die situation so I've been told. In fact, it may be to your
advantage to let it go on. Sir Stimple waited for a hopeful moment then
shrugged and waved his hands. "I tell you, there is nothing you can do.
They have you by the tail."
Jerry
was pacing back and forth in the old shabby room. "What was that lawyer's
name? Maybe he can help?
"Long
dead but his people kept the business. They have a reputable establishment over
on
"Here
let me. Give me the code name.
"Houdini.”
Jerry
grinned, “A little obvious don’t you think? Hello. Yes, this is. Wait. You
talk. Don't want them to know it’s the king.”
Sir
Stimple asked for Mr. Mitchell the head of the firm. He mentioned who he was
and after a few minutes spoke the code name. His eyes lit up and Jerry saw him
nod. Good.
“Should
he bring the file here?”
“Yes,
that would be perfect. As fast as he can.”
He
will bring the file here but it might take some time. He said he will need to
have his people dig deep into his own archives. Be here in about a half hour.
Tea?”
Jerry
didn't stop pacing long enough to drink the tea and kept at it until the lawyer
rang the bell.
The
door opened to a white haired, short man with an air of decisiveness and
excitement about him. He was all business as he said, "Here, took me a while
to get at it but here is the file. He looked up at the tall king now halted in
mid pace, “I can tell you a few things about these people that maybe you didn't
know.”
Jerry
looked at the little old lawyer from the firm of Savory and Mitchell and nodded,
“Come in.”
“Why,
yes, come in, come in, Mr. Stimple said as he pulled him into the room.
After
sitting down, with the king’s permission, Mr. Mitchell said, “There are only
three. I mean three of them alive at any one time. My father discovered that fact
during his appointment with King John. It's all here. Not much I dare say. I
read it on the way over. “
“So
you know what is going on.”
“Afraid
I do, and I surmise that they are each staggered as to age. They mean to
replace the one who is a hundred and fifty years old.”
“You
must understand that I will not give in to these crooks.” Jerry stood tall and
firm as he spoke, arms folded and legs stiff, his stance reaffirmed his desire
to win. “Do you have any suggestions? It's the modern age, surly there is some
way out of this.”
“Well,
there is one point that could be brought up.” Both Jerry and Mr. Mitchell
looked at Sir Stimple as he spoke. “They didn't protect the kingdom too well,
now did they? I mean here you are, excuse me sir, a distant cousin on the
throne.” He didn't need to finish. They each had images imprinted in their
minds from the newspaper accounts of the murders. The king, queen, and children
had been bombed by one of the spouses. Gone in a single day.
Mr.
Mitchell cleared his throat. “I am afraid that won't dissolve the contract, not
as I read it. Their agreement isn't for any specific king or queen, but for the
kingdom itself.”
Jerry
began pacing again.
“Can
I make a suggestion?” Mr. Mitchell asked.
“That's
what I am waiting for,” Jerry said in between turns on the worn carpet.
Watching
him, Sir Stimple wondered if it was possible to wear a hole in the carpet in a
single day.
Just
then Jerry's phone rang. He debated answering it but gave in.
“Oh,
hi darling. Your back so soon. No I am sorry. I can't come home. I miss you
too.” He waited while she blabbed on for a while then asked as casually as he
could, "Is you lady in waiting still with you?"
“No,
she left a few minutes ago. Why?”
“No
reason. Can't come back right now. It really is life or death, I promise or I
wouldn't stay away.
It
hurt Jerry to hear his wife’s pleas. She has been away for a whole two weeks
already.
“Here
with me? Jerry squinted his eyes in thought. His wife was hardly a simpleton.
Before their marriage she worked as private secretary for the head of NanoCom.
“Ah, yes, that would be great. do you think you slip away without anyone seeing
you? The problem is that vital.”
Sir
Stimple spoke up, “I could send a car.” Jerry looked over at Sir Stimple and
nodded.
“No
lady in waiting. Make sure of that. He could tell she was delighted at the
subterfuge. Something was up and she knew it. Excited she agreed to slip away
immediately.
“Get
that car here quick,” she laughed.
“That’s
my wife,” Jerry said with a smile. “Your car should be more secret than our
chauffeurs, don’t you think?
“Yes,
and I’ve sent car already on its way.” Mr. Stimple said as he hung up his own
phone.
“So
where were we?”
“No
where, so far. Let's review the contract. Though, I need to admit it looks air
tight to me right now,” admitted Mr. Mitchell.
They each in turn reread the small one page
contract that had been typed out in English and set into Mr. Mitchell’s
folder.
“If
there are only three of them we may be able to contrive some arrangement that
would get them together in one place,” Jerry said. “My men can arrest them if
that is the case.”
“But
if one of them is left out of the ring, then what?” asked Mr. Mitchell.
That
would be certainly be a huge problem. Wouldn’t know what the other would look
like at any one time.
“Wouldn’t
know who he was exactly,” agreed Mr. Stimple, "And worse, it might be the
hundred and fifty year old crazy one who is left out.”
“Does
he want to be replaced?” Jerry wondered out loud.
“That's
a good point. In fact, he must be over the bend and senile”
Just
then his wife knocked and was told to enter. Both men stood up to greet her,
but Jerry got right to the point.
“Sit
down dear. I need to show you something.”
They
waited patiently while she read the contract. Her face showed various phases of
disbelief; within a few minutes her features changed from interest, to shock
then anger.
“You
won't give in to this, of course.”
“Of
course not. That's why were are gathered here. But so far no solution has come
to mind.”
“I
am not a novice when it comes to contracts,” at this she bowed to give
deference to the Mr. Mitchell who was obviously a lawyer, “But I don't see any
loop holes but one.”
All
three heads perked up at her words.
“One?”
“Well,
their contract is with the kingdom. What if there isn't a kingdom?”
“No,
kingdom? Sputtered Sir Stimple. My lady surly you don't mean that.”
“I
certainly do.”
“Yes,
I see the possibility,” stated Mr. Mitchell with a sigh. “It could be done, of
course, but the price is quite high. Perhaps higher than you are willing to
pay.”
“What
do you mean?” asked Jerry now sitting next to his wife on the sofa.
“Well,
you could dissolve the kingdom.” He shuddered as he said the words.
“Unthinkable,”
stuttered Sir Stimple. “Unthinkable.”
“Wait,
let me think,” Jerry called out. “Let's think about this.”
They
each turned to look between their king and queen then shook their heads.
“But,
don't you see. I've hated this job since I landed in it. You need to
understand, I came from a democracy. Why and the hell don't we have one here.”
“Never
been tried.”
“Unthinkable,”
muttered Mr. Stimple.
“We
could do something like they do in
“Would
that work Mr. Mitchell?” Jerry’s wife asked.
"Yes
actually, it would work. You could declare the country a democracy and remain
the titular head until a voting system was set up. Then legally, the contract
would be null and void because the kingdom would no longer exist.”
“What
steps will I need to take?”
“You'd
need to abdicate the throne. But every step of the way would all be written up
into a new contract. You could actually remain the head for a very long time,
years if necessary.
“I see.
What do you think my dear? Do you think the kingdom will benefit.
“Oh,
yes. What fun it would be to begin a democracy, like Benjamin Franklin or
George Washington.”
“Afraid
it won’t be that exciting in today’s world.” Jerry laughed. “By the way, you
need to be careful of your lady in waiting. She might one of them.”
“That
solves the legal aspect then.” Agreed Mr. Mitchell.
“We
might know who two of them are and I have an idea how we can get them together
for arrest.” Jerry laughed. “Yes, it might do nicely.
When
Keena looked at his questioning, he said, “Wouldn't your lady in waiting be
with you until the coupling?”
Kenna
smiled along with Mr. Mitchell. “She is always on call and close by.”
Mr.
Stimple still wasn’t smiling but he seemed to have stopped fretting.
“Then
it is settled?” he asked.
“I
will draw up the contract. And of course you will have other lawyers check it
over.”
“I'll
make the announcement on television soon, but first I will present our
face-changers with a null and void contract, and perhaps a jail sentence.” He
outlined his plan to the outhers. Then Jerry laughed out loud for the first
time in hours and reached over to hug his wife.
“No
one ever gave up a kingdom for me before,” she whispered in his ear. He laughed
the harder.
The
night set aside for the coupling Jerry met with the Viceroy, then he went into
the room allotted for him to wait out the visit. He had gotten a tattoo of the
seal of the kingdom on his inner thigh, as he told his wife, just in case. Then
just as the Viceroy was changing his face, Jerry’s hand-picked guards, Mutt and
Jeff, stepped into the room. At the same time guards stepped into the room of
his wife's who was standing next to her maid in waiting. Both figures were
immediately shot with a quick, nerve numbing tranquilizer and taken away.
As
soon as the two were captured and enclosed in such a way that they couldn’t
imitate their jailers faces, Jerry felt safe enough to put out his abdication
notice on Television. He explained to his public how he had been almost
blackmailed and warned that there was still one face-changer out in the
population who might do something drastic. “The contract is null and void. The
truth and light of day will finish him,” he told his audience.
Then
he waited for the face-changer’s visit, if he dared. He did. He sputtered and
stammered and said that Jerry couldn’t nullify the contract. It was impossible.
“But
I already did.” With that the words, the guard shot the face-changer with a
tranquilizer that ended the argument.
Jerry
remained the elected head of the democracy for many years. Jokes and rumors
about face-changers became a recurring fad. The funniest was a television show
called, “Show your face.” Jerry laughed to Keena that maybe the rumor was true,
maybe a secret face-changer did become an MC on his own television show.
The End