“Shhh.” I’m shaking my head. Yeah, that worked.
“Please come back!” A little startled, Carlotta turns around. “I want you to formally meet Ambitious Mindswallow. You know who he is?”
“Of course.” She shoots me a party-planner smile.
“I’ve known him since he was a teenage killah, and I can sense he’s got, to use his oft-stated phrase, ‘a hard-on’ for you.”
I’m mumbling, “Oh, shit, Salome, shaddup.”
“It’s no coincidence you arrived while he was visiting with me. Please, give him a chance.” She’s pushing me out of the chair. “Get up. Go with her.”
I know better than to rile up Salome, so we start walking back to the house. I says, “I’m sorry. Salome is … different …”
“Is she right?”
“About what?”
“Don’t play stupid.”
“Well, yeah. I’d love to ask you out.”
“It’s not proper to socialize while I’m working. Take my card.” She swallows me with her big brown eyes and big breasts, and I am a goner.
74 THE MOSES CHRONICLES (2016)
The Revolution Will Be Digitized
Securely reunited, Moses joked to Jay that he hadn’t been, well, less unhappy in years. They laughed at his reluctance to say the word “happy” without the prefix “un.” Whatever the reason, the passage of time or repression, the Jay-Alchemy affair no longer ignited his jealousy or feelings of inadequacy. When Jay attended a Nightingale function, she and Alchemy exchanged pleasantries and that was it. Mostly, Jay and Laluna sat together or hid in a corner. The two of them got along well, actually liked each other, but their differences in age and basic interests kept them from reaching out for a closer relationship.
Moses threw himself full force into expressing the Nightingale Party’s philosophical and political goals as talking points for the press, or young candidates they hoped would vie for local positions, laying the groundwork for Alchemy’s 2020 presidential run. Professorially speaking, “philosophy” and “talking points” remained incompatible, and some of his former colleagues at SCCAM reproached him for crossing enemy lines from academic to political operative. He countered, or maybe rationalized, by saying they’re just different forms of educating.
With Alchemy staking a huge chunk of his fortune on the party’s future, all other sacrifices became trivial. Moses remained both somewhat apart from and overseer of those who ran the analytics, local offices, advertising, polling and everyday PR flackery, Web and social media. All heads of the departments sent him weekly summaries, which he put into one-page summaries for Alchemy. The Nightingale Party occupied the same building as the reduced-in-size Nightingale Foundation.
Laluna, who claimed no special interest in delving into the netherworld of Cosmological Kinetics, had finished the music for the video and bid Crouse and Barker adieu, which satisfied Winslow. Borden asked Moses for his permission to speak to Jay. Less than jubilant, Jay agreed. Moses asked Borden not to send him a copy of or even notes of the interview.
The rumored Alchemy-Absurda relationship and the possible blowback from the unpredictable Mindswallow still rankled Borden. Moses asked what specifically worried her. Oddly, she clammed up. He took the bait and pressed Alchemy, who, exasperated, told Moses, “Get Cherry on it if you want to.” He called her. A few weeks later, she informed him she had a tape he needed to hear. Moses asked her to send it to his home.
Alchemy and Louise Urban Vulter, who had jumped from right-wing media rabble-rouser to junior senator from Arizona, were in the middle of a ten-day barnstorming tour. Their next stop was at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, and Moses decided to go.
Vulter and Alchemy were vying to become the voice of the disaffected and disenfranchised. Vulter had tamed her belligerent style and presented herself as a representative of “my silent minority, working- and middle-class real Americans.” Of late, she’d made veiled references to breaking away from the Republicans and establishing the Reformation Party, which not only lessened the chances of Alchemy being branded the spoiler but also increased his chances for the future. Moses noted to Alchemy that the last time four serious candidates ran, Abraham Lincoln became the sixteenth president with thirty-nine percent of the popular vote.
In the ten minutes before they appeared on the stage, Moses observed the playful rapport between Alchemy and Louise. They’d found common ground that surprised them both: Alchemy’s expertise in shooting guns, which he’d learned as a teenager in Virginia, Vulter’s Insatiables fandom, and her reputation along Prescott’s Whiskey Row as “one hell-raisin’ bawdy babe.”
The audience’s questions showed a preponderant interest in all things Alchemy, from his opinions on other bands to his political positions. Vulter, sensing Alchemy taking over the evening, reverted to her go-to issue and jingoistic persona, unleashing an anti-Islamic fusillade.
“Alchemy, your fandom is a nice subject, but what of your plans to dismantle our nuclear arsenal? How do you propose to stem the Islamic tide? One that would ban your music, prohibit your lifestyle? We’re idly witnessing this imminent peril threatening you and all the faithful. I demand we use all of our power to save our American way of life. The attacks on our institutions and governmental systems are not cyberterror — they are cyberwar waged by Islamic technojihadists. Suicide bombers without the suicide. I know how to win this war. Singing a nice song won’t do it.”
Many in the audience applauded passionately.
Alchemy, measuring the temperature of the crowd, began to sing: “Oneness though many / in this land o’ plenty …” The audience joined in: “we are the ones who are proud to share / open your arms if you dare.”
“C’mon, Louise, join the rest of us. Don’t be so stodgy,” Alchemy teased, fully aware that Vulter would not appreciate being called “stodgy.”
She joined in: “Let’s have some fun / all hail E Pluribus Unum Wampum.”
When the auditorium quieted, he began again, “Now, don’t we feel better? Seriously, Louise, I don’t disagree that this is a major problem for now and the future. A song won’t stop a real or cybermissile, but it can make us stop and think about what we share, so that the missile isn’t fired. Taking an eye for an eye, or four eyes of theirs for one of ours, isn’t a solution. Better to change cyberswords into cyberplowshares.”
Back in the hotel, eating a room service dinner, Alchemy listened to the Cherry-supplied recording with his usual insouciance:
A woman’s voice: “Oh, my God … Oh, my, my … Oh, baby, let me …”
Alchemy: “No wonder … they call you gums.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah, that’s me and Absurda. I forgot all about that. Goes back to when we were at Juilliard. All of
us were taking turns faking sex with each of the others in the room. Somebody edited out their voices.”
“You want to talk to Borden? Maybe give Cherry the names of the other people there?”
“I’ll try to remember who they were.”
“How is Mindswallow going to respond if this gets out?”
“He, Carlotta, this new woman he’s been seeing, Laluna, and I had dinner not long ago. I think he’s over being pissed at me. I’ll talk to him.” One of his three cells rang. “Hi, Louise, yes it was a good night. What’s up?”
Moses motioned asking if he should leave. Alchemy shook his head. “Yeah, saw it. What can we do? Can’t promise no more songs.” Vulter was vexed by the local TV news station playing only a sound bite of the audience singing. “I’ll call the station and ask them to add something. Okay? And yeah, I say take it.”