It was not Edwin's stare that had driven the man away, but rather the utter calm behind it. When a normal person stares, there are little flickers of transitory thoughts and fears and doubts—but when Edwin had stared at the makeup assistant, the assistant had seen nothing. An endless, clear calm had stared back at him from the depths of Edwin's eyes. For one whose mind was absorbed with the endless trivia of the tabloids and talk shows and fashion magazines, this experience was horrifying—like encountering an alien. "Oh, my God, what is that in your head?" his eyes seemed to ask before he ran away.
A thought, Edwin's gaze answered. There is a thought in my head.
Edwin buttoned his coat, tugged his collar into place and moved into position.
"Are you ready, Mister Windsor?" asked the Director. Edwin nodded.
The newest employee of Omdemnity Insurance, a fresh-faced lad of twenty-three dressed in a cheap, ill-fitting suit, took his place next to Edwin. The Director called action.
Edwin looked into the camera and said, "Welcome to Omdemnity Insurance. As a new employee, there are many policies and procedures you will need to master. This video will help. But all of them really boil down to two things. Trust—“
Hearing his cue, the young man turned his back to Edwin, crossed his hands over his chest, closed his eyes and fell backwards, exactly as he had been instructed. He believed, with the faith of a small child, that Edwin was going to catch him.
He was wrong.
When he hit the floor, he learned an important lesson about trust. Edwin continued, "—and common sense." The camera followed Edwin as he walked behind his desk and resumed his post. The sound of a young man attaining wisdom—which sounded exactly like a mildly concussed person trying to catch his breath after having the wind knocked out of him—did not distract Edwin from his performance.
"At Omdemnity Insurance, our clients trust us to insure and otherwise indemnify them from a range of risks that only yesterday were thought to be uninsurable. So you can take pride in the fact that you are part of an organization on the cutting edge of risk management.
"We do not do our work recklessly or because we are rash. It is our prudence, more than anything else, our common sense, that allows us to grow and thrive.
“In closing, I ask you to pay careful attention to the policies and procedures that have made this company great. Follow the rules, and together we will all succeed." He sat at his desk and picked up a stack of papers, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's plenty of work to be done."
The director said, "CUT!" Two production assistants quickly ran in and scooped up the injured young employee. As they helped him from the room, he managed to turn and ask Edwin, "Why?"
Edwin gestured to Daniel, who was standing on the edge of the room. He quickly interposed himself between Edwin and the recently concussed young man and escorted him from the room.
Edwin turned his un-amused expression on the director, "You have what you need."
Even though it was not a question, the director answered, "Yes."
Edwin ignored the crew as they packed up and left. His mind was now preoccupied with the question of Topper. He was the only remaining problem with the delicate organization schema he had devised. But then, Topper and Agnes had always been at odds.
Topper was not the kind of person who fit willingly into any kind of schema. The thing with DeTsavo was annoying, of course, but it was a symptom of a larger problem. But what to do about it? Topper knew everything. Had he outlived his usefulness?
No, thought Edwin. There must be another way. He could reach his tiny friend. Teach him more patient ways. Even as he thought of it, Edwin recognized that changing Topper would be like harnessing the wind to do accounting. Such a thing was ludicrous to even imagine.
Perhaps there was a way to protect his friend? To put Topper's natural impulses to use. To allow the violent, passionate little man to reach Edwin’s goals by doing what came naturally to him. Edwin always strived for machinations so subtle and inscrutable that they would seem as inexorable as the workings of Nature herself.
Edwin did not have the solution. But he had defined the problem, and that was enough. Deep within the furnace of his mind, connections were beginning to take shape. He sat motionless behind his desk as the crew carried the last of the lights from his office. He did not have the answer, but he felt that if he could get just a few more uninterrupted moments to himself, the answer would come to him.
That's when the door to his office flung open and Topper, head bent low and serious, walked to Edwin’s desk, dragging a chair behind him.
Ah, thought Edwin. There goes the afternoon.
As Topper trudged across the long, empty office, the chair left unsightly drag marks in the carpet behind him. If Topper had thought of it, it would have given him some pleasure that this was the kind of thing that drove Edwin nuts. As it was, it was all he could do to steady his nerves and make forward progress.
"Topper, I was just thinking about you," said Edwin.
Shit, thought Topper, he's always a step ahead. "Yeah, and I was just thinking you should get some chairs in this office. Maybe a couple of couches and an area rug." Edwin had removed all furniture from his office but his own desk and chair, in an effort to have people get to the point and get out.
Topper climbed up in the chair he had brought and faced off against Edwin. The tall man's calm was magnified by the serenity of his office. This effect terrified Topper. But he pressed on. "Edwin, you and I need to have a long talk."
"I agree," said Edwin. Which scared Topper all the more. What had he gotten himself into?
"Topper, we need to have a conversation about Human Resources," Edwin began.
"Human Resources? I thought you didn't believe in all that HR bullshit."
"As a rule, I don't," he said. In fact, Edwin deplored almost all of what could be called modern Human Resources practice, but he did enjoy the perfection of the term. Resources, after all, are to be exploited. "But there are certain realities we must live with when it comes to dealing with the herd," Edwin continued.
"Oh, yeah, I get it. The little people," said Topper, with no sense of his own irony.
"Exactly. We must have policies and procedures to keep the rabble in line. We give them sets of rules. We let them choose which set of rules they apply. They preserve the illusion of free will while being deprived of the burden of true choice, so they are happy. And they do what we want, so we are happy."
"Makes sense to me."
"Good, good. But the rules themselves are not enough. We must reward those who follow the rules, and punish those who do not. And the herd must see these rewards and punishments. In this way, it is so much easier to deal with ordinary people, en masse—rather than a few exceptional individuals one at time. It is a much better way to build a system as well. The mass is a source of interchangeable parts. If one breaks under the strain, you just pick another."
"Okay, okay. It sounds kinda boring, but I see what you're getting at," said Topper, rubbing his temple.
"But the most important thing is that no one is seen to break the rules. No one can get away with it. Justice must be swift. Rewards and punishments unavoidable. This artificial system must be made to seem natural, inexorable, like gravity or the rise and fall of the tides. To oppose it would be as foolish as opposing gravity."
"Yeah," said Topper, "Anybody who opposes you and me is foolish. I mean look at this place. We're top of the world. We're kicking ass and taking names. And you don't like it, we show up with our pal the Cromoglodon and KABLOOOOOOM! We wreck your house. Or factory or whatever. Edwin, you and me is unstoppable."
Edwin smiled at his diminutive friend. It was very hard for Edwin to enjoy things on his own, but, for some reason, he could take pleasure in the lust for life which Topper had in such abundance. Would it qualify as a superpower, he wondered, the ability to transfer joy to others? That's what made this hard.
"Yes, Topper, we have done very well for ourselves. And we will continue to do so, only..."
"What? What is it, E? What's bothering you? Is somebody bothering you? Is somebody getting in the way? You just give me the word, I'll take a couple of the boys and we'll take him out."
"No, Topper, the days of those strong-armed tactics are past. This is a new era. We have great potential, but we must build a system of people to take advantage of it."
"What are you talking about? A system? That doesn't sound like fun. I thought we got into this for fun!"
"Making money isn't fun for you?" Edwin asked, truly perplexed. He kept score with money. And in his mind, there was nothing better than putting up a big number. It was his enjoyment and his justification all in one.
"Nah. Spending money is fun. And if you can figure out how we can spend money without making it, then you'll really be a genius."
"I'll give it some thought," Edwin said quietly. "No, the reason I've called you here is that I need you to start obeying the rules."
"Obeying the rules?" Topper said, his strange high-pitched voice rocketing up to the top of his range. "Who do you think I am?"
"I think you are Topper Haggleblat, my attorney and partner."
"Have I ever, I mean EVER, obeyed the rules?'
"No, but what I mean to—“
"I'm not an obey-the-rules kind of guy. On a good day, I'm a bend-the-rules kind of guy. On great day, I stomp up and down on the rules until they fit my client's needs. Right? I mean, that's why you hired me. I mean, that's why we are partners."
"You are very talented, Topper. No one is denying that, it's just—"
"I get it. You're just pissed about the other day. You think he's not going to pay."
Edwin held up a check from General Business Machines. "No, it's not that at all."
"Oh, hot damn, payday! See, I still got it."
"You still have it," Edwin nodded his head as he closed his eyes. It gave the phrase an air of solemn pronouncement. "But unfortunately, I don't need it anymore."
"Wh-wh-whattaya mean? Are you firing me? You can't fire me. I came in here to quit. Damn it!" Topper shouted, so violently he almost fell out of his chair, "How are you always a step ahead of me?!"
"Topper, calm down. Take a breath. Before you do this, look around you. Consider that we have accomplished great things together."
Topper looked around Edwin's office, "We haven't accomplished a couch and a couple of throw pillows for your aircraft hangar here."
Edwin kept right on, tired of Topper's endless and pointless digressions.
"Your skills have been instrumental in the creation of our enterprise. From your early work with the Cromoglodon to the way you drove a bulldozer through the house of the New Jersey Insurance Commissioner's house."
"Oh, yeah," Topper said, a genuine smile breaking though. "And don't forget, that bulldozer was on fire at the time."
Edwin looked at the ceiling, straining to keep a complimentary tone in the face of the phrase that was about to escape his lips. "The way you placed fake train tracks leading to a photorealistic picture of a tunnel mounted on the side of a granite cliff in the Catskills to trick the world's fastest man into..." Edwin stopped speaking, for there were no words. It shouldn't have worked. A thing like that simply couldn't have worked. It was too obvious. It was too stupid. But for Topper, somehow, it came off without a hitch.
"Hey, he was in a hurry. Hey, and don't forget the best part, after he knocked himself unconscious, after I got the microchip back, I broke his legs! Teach him to call me stubby legged and slow. Just 'cause a guy can't break the sound barrier when he's running out for smokes doesn't mean he's less of a man, you know what I'm saying?"
Edwin, in fact, had no idea what Topper was saying, or why. "Your methods are too crude, my friend. They are the tools of war, and we are no longer at war. We have won."
"Won? Is this what victory looks like? An office park? Edwin, you gotta be kidding me here."
"In the last 24 hours I have been asked to join the boards of directors for no fewer than five of the Fortune Fifty. Do you know what that means?"
"That means that the other forty-five companies are about to catch a beating from the Almighty Bottom-Line Wrecker, The ONE, The ONLY, THEEEEEEEEEE… CROMOGLODON!!"
"No, Topper, it means we don't need the Cromoglodon anymore. They are surrendering. They are seeking to co-opt me. Paying, and having me on the board, gives them immunity." Edwin dropped an immense binder onto the far side of his desk. It made a substantial thud. "It is time for a different way."
"That's the policy and procedures manual?"
Edwin dropped another immense binder on top of the first one. "This one is policy, that one is procedures."
"And you want me to read all of that nonsense?"
"Yes."
"All of those rules, Edwin? I'm supposed to read the rules?"
"Yes."
"Beanpole, I just don't think I can do this."
"You don't have to follow the rules," said Edwin.
"Unless somebody is watching."
"Correct.”
After a long pause, Topper looked at Edwin and opened his mouth, "Edwin, are you feeling okay? Seriously, do you want me to call you a doctor or something. Like a brain doctor?"
"I am feeling fine."
"Look, pal, uh, God, where do I start? Take Jerry, for example. Your Adjustor guy."
"Ah, yes, Jerry. I'm afraid he's not going to work out." Hearing Edwin's cold, hollow words, Topper shuddered at an image of Jerry's son, orphaned and crying by a grave. Then he shook it off, remembering who he was dealing with. Edwin didn't kill people unless he had a very good reason to. And if he was going to kill Jerry, well, he wouldn't leave loose ends. He'd take the whole family.
For the first time in his relationship with Edwin, Topper realized that he needed to be very, very careful.
"Yeah, so Jerry follows the rules, right? He tries real hard."
"He is enthusiastic, but he is under-qualified. He lacks talent."
