The Seer thought for a second. “We were unlucky, a lot of things came together, they interacted in ways that proved hard to predict and we made a lot of mistakes. But, we got off better than we could have. Nobody will challenge one of our bombers again, not for a very long time at least, and our position as hegemon is secure. We’re going to have to work a lot harder in the future to stay that way, that’s all.”
“No matter Seer, it’s on my watch that the easy days ended and I’ll carry the can for that. And, I’ll always be known as the baby-killer now. That’s a hell of a name to carry for posterity. Damn that moron Chalk.”
Prime Minister Joe Frye grimaced in sympathy. He’d had more than his share of being dropped in it by subordinates whose ambitions exceeded their capability. “From what I hear in the newspapers, he’s fairly well damned. What happened to him, I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. Is he showing any signs of recovery?”
LBJ shook his head. “On a good day he sits in a corner of his room and gibbers to himself. On a bad day, it’s horrible to watch. Joe, your army is doing darned well down in Mindanao. My military advisors are impressed. By the way, why is a monkey drinking your beer?”
Frye looked at the small table beside him. Sure enough a small monkey with a sad face and eyes was holding his glass and had his lips on the rim, making drinking motions. It was strangely like a young child trying to drink from a glass that was too big for it. “Hey little fellow, having problems there?” Fry tilted the glass slightly so the beer ran up to the monkey’s mouth. “There, feeling better now? Getting a taste for good beer a bit young aren’t we.”
Frye liked having high-level meetings in Thailand; the country’s brewing industry had been founded by Germans just after World War One and the Thais still brewed a good beer.
“Willie. You bad boy. What are you doing? Come away from there immediately. I’m sorry everybody, he slipped out when I looked away for a minute. Stop disturbing these nice people and come home.” The speaker was a plump, elderly lady, obviously embarrassed by her monkey’s escapade.
“Lani, I would like to introduce you to Mister Lyndon Johnson, President of the United States and his wife Ladybird, Mister Joe Frye, Prime Minister of Australia, Sir Eric Haohoa, Cabinet Secretary of India and, hiding over in the shadows there is The Seer, American National Security Advisor. Everybody, I would like to introduce my Aunt Lani.”
The Seer glanced across the courtyard at the Ambassador and lifted an eyebrow. She replied with an almost imperceptible nod. Meanwhile, Aunt Lani was standing on the grass, her jaw hanging open. LBJ decided a rescue was in order. “Lani, what a delightful little monkey. He’s been no trouble at all, is he your pet?”
Lani was still standing with her mouth open, apparently in shock at the realization of the company she had suddenly found herself in. The Ambassador answered for her. “No Mister President, it’s not a family pet. Lani and her husband run an animal welfare and rescue service, they take in animals like monkeys and a few others that were being smuggled out of the country, get them back to health and release them in the wild. A few are too young to be released immediately so they stay here until they are ready.”
“It’s a terrible problem, Mister President” Lani had finally recovered her voice. “People take these animals and trade them as exotic pets or kill them to make Chinese Medicines. Not just monkeys but tigers, bears, birds, all sorts. Some of the things they do are horrible. Did you know they cut bears open and prevent the wound from healing so they can drain the bile out? My husband and I have been trying to get some sort of agreement to get the trade controlled and the worst excesses stopped but nobody will listen to us.”
LBJ looked at the little monkey. If that monkey had escaped by accident, he was the Flying Dutchman. “Welt, Lani, somebody is listening now. I will instruct our Ambassador here to speak with you about this and come to an agreement about controlling this trade. I’ll also tell him the matter has my personal interest and I’ll have his hometown bombed if it isn’t resolved satisfactorily. After Yaffo, he’ll believe me.”
Lani triumphantly swept up her monkey and left. LBJ looked defensively at the group. “Have you any idea how many little old ladies east their votes because they think a candidate is kind to little furry animals? Enough to swing a marginal my way. Anyway, I can’t really think of a situation where I would order our bombers to take down an American city,”
“I can.” The Seer said idly. “Several in fact.”
LBJ looked pensive for a moment. “Probably Seer, but a recalcitrant ambassador isn’t one of them, I hope.” He looked at the Seer and got a nod of agreement. A recalcitrant ambassador wasn’t one. LBJ got a feeling he would find out later what were the situations; he wasn’t certain he wanted to know though.
“Seriously, an agreement of this sort really will play well. It’s the sort of thing we should announce when the Summit Meeting is over. The security agreements and trade accords will mean nothing to most people, but an agreement to protect little furry animals, that’s something everybody who votes can relate to.”
Joe Frye nodded. There spoke the master campaigner. When LBJ was in Texan geniality mode, it was easy to forget that the man was a politician without equal. He would speak to the Australian Ambassador as well.
“Have you seen Model’s trial in Moscow Mister President? No matter how much we despise the man and everything he stood for, I think we have to respect his performance there. Stood up in front of the court, took full responsibility for everything that had been done and tried to exonerate all his subordinates on the grounds they were only obeying orders. Then stood mute.”
“Doesn’t work.” The Ambassador grunted. “German Army Officer’s manual, 1930. “Officers are trained to receive commissions so they will know when to disobey orders’. Specifically states that an officer who obeys an illegal or criminal order has the same degree of guilt as the person who issued the order.”
She looked around at her companions. “Our army was trained by German expatriates in the early 1930s and our Officer’s Manual is just a translation of the German one. Anyway, we’ll probably never know why he did the things he did. To be honest I don’t think he knows, he’s probably justified them so many times to himself he believes his own story. Mister President, how is the evacuation of refugees from Gaza progressing?”
“Very well Ma’am. We have our troops out now and the South Africans have taken over protecting the areas. There are some experts from the British Museum in the Valley of Kings, trying to repair the damage the Caliphate did to the relics there. They’ve got the fragments of the Sphinx and are trying to reassemble it, the FBI are helping them out, they have expertise in putting bombs back together that can be applied. The Caliphate tried to blow up one of the pyramids as well but they hardly scratched it. The paintings though, I am told, are defaced beyond recovery and, of course, everything in the Cairo Museum was burned to ashes.”
There was silence for a few seconds, ended by the blast of a car horn from outside the gates. One of the servants opened up the door, letting in four Executive Assistants loaded down with packages from stores. The Ambassador got up to greet them.
“How was your retail therapy girls? Naamah, how did you get on? Redheads are really rare here, I was worried you might not be able to find anything to suit you. Lillith and Igrat wouldn’t have had any problems of course. Nor would Inanna, now we have so many American tourists here.”
“We did just fine Snake.” Naamah held up her packages triumphantly. “Shinawatra Silk had every color and pattern you can imagine. What do you think of this?” She fished in a bag and pulled out a luminescent emerald green silk and held it up to her hair. “Got some dresses and office suits being made up for me. Lillith’s having a dress made that’ll bring Washington to a complete stop.”