Step Back - Part 30

Senator Edward M. Kennedy had set aside some time after his normal three-martini lunch to see a lobbyist. The subject of the meeting was the people from the future and the question of what to do about them? Kenneth Hudson was an old school lobbyist from Minnesota and had come to Washington after the initial election of Hubert Humphrey as senator and with the rest of the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party crowd from that state. Kennedy despised the lot of them but kept silent lest they become open opponents to his own rise to power. And there was no question that after his rise to the White House that there would ever be any more opposition from the Right for him to contend with.

After the initial ritual of shaking hand taking seats Kennedy spoke.

“So Ken, what did you need to see me about?”

“It’s the people from the future, I tried to see them again, yesterday.”

“Why?” Kennedy replied. “They hate us and they are total fascist trash. They’ve made no secret of it, that ship of theirs will have to be destroyed and what’s left of them on the ground will have to confined for the rest of their lives. We can’t have them continuing to contaminate our people with their insane ideas.”

“I know that,” said Hudson, “I know that now.”

Kennedy had received a review copy of The Concept Of Government from a sympathizer in the publishing industry. The content of the anonymously authored work was nothing less than appalling.

“Throughout its history the fundamental value of the Democratic Party was power. As with the Communists and National Socialists in Eurasia, they had sought absolute power over everyone in their domain, the United States of America. And as with the predecessors the power over their victims was exercised without any restraint whatsoever. As a result it became absolutely necessary to remove the Democratic Party from power and permanently eliminate the basic structure and the intellectual infrastructure that supported it.”

The method of elimination wasn’t described in the text but it was easy for him to guess. The tract in general was absolutely appalling. And there was no question that whoever wrote it had to be found, punished, and permanently silenced.

“So tell me what happened.” Kennedy asked.

Hudson began.

“I heard that the bitch that shot the Teamsters rep had been replaced by the ship’s engineer. With the bitch replaced by what should be a dullard I decided to give them another chance for a meeting.”

“And what did you find?”

“I walked right into their office and there is a girl, a teenage girl, sitting at the secretary’s desk. Seriously, she had long brown hair and big granny glasses on like a schoolgirl, and she was dressed as a slut. This was obviously somebody’s little girl playing at being a executive secretary. So I decided to play along. The little slut immediately stands up and points one of their Sci-Fi guns, like they used on our cops in Minneapolis, right at me and orders me to leave. Can you believe that?”

Kennedy nodded.

“With those people I would have to believe anything.” He said.

“Can something be done about them?” Asked Hudson.

“Something will be done about them.” Senator Kennedy replied.

Ken Hudson had not told Senator Kennedy the full story.

Hudson had entered the office unannounced. There he found what was clearly a girl who appeared to be no older than 14 years old and was dressed as an obvious slut. He was not aware that this was a Monty Python Monday at the office and that the secretary was dressed as the receptionist character played by Carol Cleveland in the Travel Agent Sketch. The custom made long sleeved red dress was clearly designed to show off the still developing cleavage of her current incarnation.

For Hudson the surrealness of the environment was ramped up a notch when the obvious schoolgirl spoke with a clearly mature if cheerful tone of voice.

“May I help you?” She said.

Hudson replied.

“I’m Kenneth Hudson, I’m here see the new...”

“She was looking down at the screen of her workstation when she spoke.

“Just a moment...Mister Hudson...you are a Democratic Party activist and were ejected from this office. And you were told never to return.”

Hudson spoke up.

“Now see here...”

The apparent girl stood up and drew a Gauss pistol from a holster under the desktop. She pointed it straight at his head. He could clearly see that the sights of the pistol were aligned between her right eye and his own right eye.

“You won’t get away with murder.” He said.

“Of course not,” she replied, “this event is being recorded and will be replayed at any hearing held by my superiors aboard the Eagle, and I will be cleared of all charges.”

Hudson couldn’t respond.

She spoke again.

“Now, for the last time, get out!”

Hudson raised his hands and backed away, he then turned the quickly walked out the door.

He initially went to the police in Arlington, Virginia to file a complaint.

“What do you want me to do?” Said the desk sergeant. “Commit suicide?”

“I want you to arrest that slut!”

“No Mister Hudson,” said the obviously graying desk sergeant, “you want me to help you pretend that you had valid business in there. First, it is a diplomatic legation. Sovereign nations tend to get upset when their legations are violated. And the people from Alpha Centauri are clearly a sovereign nation. Second, they told you to never come back again. What part of this order did you not understand? And third, that girl you are complaining about is probably older than both of my grandmothers combined, those folks from Alpha Centauri are funny that way.”

The fact was that Sergeant Charles Burns of the Arlington Police had already met Miss Victoria Grosse and had dated her. He also knew that she was two years into her fourth incarnation, and that with great age came great sexual experience.

She also made it clear that in the long run he should find someone closer to his own age.