Vending Machine Lunch (5 page)

"Organiser, do
we really wish to look at our Jessica's outside holiday snaps as
evidence?" droned Jordan. Smugly.

"Agreed, we do
not," replied the organiser, shuffling some papers on his podium,
"We shall be resuming the previous topic of Union's market
collapse-"

"God damn it
you fools why don't you just wake up and listen to me!?" screamed
Jessica down her microphone.

There was a
silent moment of outrage, as it was slowly taken in what Jessica
had just screamed at them. The scene was a picture, you could have
cut the atmosphere with a knife. Jessica could have cut them all
with a knife. She was more furious than she had ever been, wanting
to cry, scream and rip someone's heart out at the same time.

The organiser
was just about to scold Jessica and probably pretty much reduce her
career down to making refreshments at the filing office where she
began, when the man walked in.

He opened the
wooden doors with a deafening echoey bang and strode in, walking
across the centre of the silent scene, chuckling to himself.
Realisation slowly sank in on who this guy was, the room muttered
and shuffled uncomfortably. He continued his bizarre chuckling,
slowly walking across the room, his leather jacket simply hanging
off his stick like shoulders.

"What is he
doing here?" someone asked from behind Jessica. There was no
answer. No-one knew. No-one.

The man reached
the podium. He scraped a terrified organiser off his chair and sat
down before the microphone.

"Ha. I thought
daytime casuals were pretty dire," he said into the microphone,
licking his lips. He had a weird falsetto American accent.

Jessica stared
across at Jordan. The scowl on his face was almost swallowing up
his large nose.

"Give me one
reason why I shouldn't get the Enforcers here to arrest you," he
growled through the microphone.

"Ha." the man
chucked again, "So you do know me then? Hell, from the way you were
talking back then, I was just a figment of everyone's
imaginations."

With that he
kicked the organiser down, who was just getting up from the floor,
climbed up onto the podium and ripped the microphone off its stand,
cables stretching upwards to his hand where he held the microphone.
The organiser moaned with pain, rolling on the floor.

"Enforcers,"
said Jordan, signalling the Enforcers which surrounded the room to
arrest the man.

"Wait!" said
Jessica, "Mr J, I'm assuming you have some sort of proposition or
announcement for us?"

Both Jessica's
and the man's eyes glanced towards Jordan. The man pointed slightly
at Jessica, as though saying that he should stay on Jessica's
invite. Jordan hung his head in submission and sighed.

"Okay then.
Okay then... 'J' or whatever you wish to be called," said Jordan
disgustingly, "Let's hear it."

The man,
obviously known as J, smiled.

"Excellent. Now
obviously I'm not that popular amongst... anyone really," he smiled
in his false girly American accent, "But what you guys don't
realise is, I'm like sex to you guys. Or air. You don't realise how
much you need me until I'm gone, and if I do go, you will
realise.

"So let's cast
our minds back to when we were children. Our mommy's always used to
tell us to enjoy life and not think about our little children-like
desires, just go out with a ball and play with friends. But because
your head is so full of a child’s desires that children have, you
don't like what you have. You want the new toy. The new thing. All
the kids want it and you all spend your time wishing your silly
heads off that you have it.

"Now that
you're adults though, and you have it, or could have it, you simply
do not have the time anymore. Sublime irony really. The world is a
bit of a darker place, you have other commitments, a job, children,
etcetera. And you see your children, and they're miserable little
morons! Miserable! Little! Morons! And you're like, 'why are you so
miserable little Eliza?' And she replies a similar reply to what
you gave when you were young. And it is only then! -you realise
that you wasted your youth, thinking similar thoughts. It is only
then, you realise what your parents were on about. It is only then,
you realise you’re telling your little morons to stop worrying
about what they don’t have, and start enjoying what they do have.
Freedom.

“Then again,
you guys now have your Happy and your Bliss and your Ecstasy.
Taking that into account, it makes everything I’ve just said
inert.”

J was an odd
talker. Despite the falsetto American accent, every word was
articulated and executed with brilliant precision. He left long
enough gaps between his sentences so everyone could take in what he
had said. Jessica found his intelligence pretty impressive, despite
not knowing what on earth he was on about, or at least, what
context his apparent metaphor fitted in.

“Myself
however, I am a man of simple ideas-" he continued.

"Neo-terrorist," hissed Jordan through his microphone. The crowd
behind him murmured.

"Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought they were just bed-time stories made up by the press," J
hissed back, licking his lips, "Ha, listen! I know why you do this
okay. I know why you relentlessly day after day, stick up for our
land's relentless father, okay? It's because, it's easy money. If
ignorance is bliss, you guys must be in heaven by now."

The crowd of
fanatic speakers started to look uneasy. A bit shifty.

"Ha! Oh come on
don't look at me like that. Everyone knows it," he continued,
looking somewhat forgiving and humorous, "Everyone knows that you
listen to what the leader wants and then stick up for it in Speaker
Sessions. Then, the leader, looking at the minutes, sees his idea
and obviously likes it and goes forward with it, because it is his
idea! This government is so corrupt, even a supermassive-black hole
wouldn't swallow it up.

"And everyone
knows it. The press know it. The public know it, or what’s left of
them at least, I hear the requiem are doing a fine job of reducing
the land’s population-" he started pointing at Jessica, trying to
think of her name, "Jessica..." he paused to see if he was about to
be corrected, "... knows it. Hell, even my nana knows it and she
thinks I'm still six and sits in her rocking chair all day making
up jokes about poo.

"No-one is
convinced, not that you guys care. You get your fat pay packet and
all of the land's troubles simply disappear. Well not for much
longer. See, very soon, a mountain of poo is going to hit the fan-
that's one of my nana's by the way -and when it happens, no-one
will get out clean. Deimos? Hell, that's the start, our leader
isn't going to stop his madhouse power craze. He isn't going to
stop making stupid, selfish decisions that improve him politically
in the greater scheme of things, but do not help them who are under
his rule. He's going to continue wanting to live forever. He's
going to continue what he is doing now, and that's seriously
screwing up this land.

"And when this
colossal amount of faecal waste hits the turbine, when the final
straw has finally been pulled after many years of it being tugged
on; the people of this land are going to turn to those who lead
this mighty land to destruction. And they're going to find you. And
they'll make you squeal. And they're going to have your balls on a
plate."

A murmur of
discomfort swept through J’s audience as they envisioned what he
had just mentioned.

“What is it
you’re proposing then?” asked Jessica, staring at J.

He licked his
lips. “What I’m proposing is rather simple. We, hurr- kill the
leader.”

“You’re
insane!” someone called out from the fanatical crowd. Pretty much
everyone chuckled in disbelief in what J had just said.

“You think?”
asked J, running his tongue along a set of nicotine-stained teeth,
“And our metal monster of a master isn’t?

“Ha. Listen, if
we don’t sort this mess out now; our Jordan here,” he pointed at
Jordan and paused, as though waiting for acknowledgment that Jordan
was his name, “Won’t even be able to scrape a rupee from his nana.
She’ll be with the rest of them, hunting you down. Oh, and you all
will be hunted down. And he’ll let it happen. You’ll be this
season’s game. You’ll be the land’s scapegoat.”

“If killing the
leader is so apparently simple, why haven’t you done it?” asked
Jordan, rubbing his monster of a nose.

“Ha. What makes
you think I want to do it voluntarily?”

“What do you
want?” asked Jessica. Another murmur of outrage tsunamied its way
through the room.

“Hurr- the
land. The entirety.”

A moment of
laughter took place in the room, during which, J pushed down the
organiser who was just about to get back up.

“Mr... J,”
chucked Jordan, flicking his blonde hair to one side, “Seriously?
You want us to aid you in a mass revolution to put you in charge of
our land? Seriously? The biggest neo-terrorist in our land, and you
want to us just to step aside and let you take charge?”

“Hurr- yeah.
What other choice have you got?” asked J, stepping back onto the
podium, “I urge you to take a leap of faith. Otherwise, you have
guaranteed annihilation, of both yourself and this land. And don’t
pretend you don’t. You know you do. I ask you. What have you got to
lose?”

“Nothing will
be lost,” said Jordan, “If, your so called theory does become a
reality, you forgot to take into account that I can simply move to
a place of different hegemony.”

“Ha!’ screamed
J, “Hegemony? You think by just moving out of the land to a place
of different jurisdiction, you can avoid what’s to come?

“Sure, move to
Union. We all know how much they hate us. We all have to deal with
the crap they do every day. Hell, what would you do without Union?
Our land would have nothing to blame your mistakes on. I’m
surprised you haven’t laid the blame of Deimosgate on Union. Not
that anyone would have believed it, because no-one believed it the
last fifty million times you blamed Union for bad events. It’s got
to the point where people won’t even believe it when Union do
actually do something! For instance, flooding the market with
literal crap.

“Listen to me.
And I advise you listen, very, carefully. If you can make it across
the wasteland, by all means, get to Union. It won’t make a shadow’s
worth of difference. They have problems of their own. Quite a lot
of them worse than what is going on here. Trust me. I’ve been
there.”

Another chuckle
of disbelief echoed its way through the room. Jordan smugly laid
his head into his hands.

“You’ve been to
Union. Right.” chuckled Jordan, “And Sugarcandy Mountain exists I
suppose yeah? Well I thank you for your generous proposition Mr J,
allow us all to consider it whilst you live behind bars. Enforcers,
take this loon away.”

Everyone in the
room began nattering on the excitement that the land’s biggest
neo-terrorist had been caught. Jessica sighed. She had really hoped
that he’d be able to make a difference, instead of babbling on like
a loon. The Enforcers began their approach.

The Enforcers
were nearly there when J cleared his throat in the microphone, “I
don’t think you want to be doing this.”

The room froze.
The nattering stopped almost immediately.

“Good lord,”
muttered Jack, lost for breath, “He’s said it.”

“Erm- and why
is that Mr J?” asked Jordan looking genuinely concerned.

The Enforcers
had reached J, and were now handcuffing him.

“Hurr- well,
you see Jordan, I can’t take no for an answer. The only answer I
will accept is- yes.”

“Well, I’m
afraid I’m in no professional position to honour your proposition.
I don’t think anyone is actually, so I’ll tell you what, why don’t
you get your little neo-friends to honour it. After your lifelong
prison sentence.” And with that, Jordan left the podium, the
Enforcers began attempting to drag J away, and the causal chatter
in the room began again.

“Ha. Hurr- Mr
Jordan? You will say yes. You will honour my proposal. You all
will. It’s not a matter whether you agree, it’s a matter of when
you will agree-” J managed to say before being dragged off the
podium. The microphone dropped from his handcuffed hands and
scraped on the floor.

“Wait!” this
time it was both Jessica and Jordan who said it, the casual
chatter, yet again, stopped. Jordan signalled with his hand to the
Enforcers to give J the microphone. A weedy looking Enforcer picked
up the microphone and held it in front of him.

“Why?” asked
Jordan.

“Ha! There is a
large section of this land which is susceptible to flooding. And
for as long as we all can remember, the Ares Flood Defences have
been protecting this large section of the land from the outside
waters. You don’t need me to tell you the percentage of this land’s
population that will die if the Ares Defences were to- fail. So
here is the prognosis. If the leader isn’t overthrown and me put in
his place by six...” J paused, “...boom!”

The rattle off
his handcuff chain as he attempted to mime an explosion with his
hands, echoed in the silent room.

Jordan
cursed.

The silence was
followed by an almost instantaneous uproar, people either shouting
threats, panicking or furiously trying to exit the building. The
Enforcers dragged away J, who was licking his lips and chuckling to
himself, to an awaiting cell in an Enforcer building not far from
the House of Speakers.

A sense of
panic descended on the room. Jessica turned to Jack.

"Go," she said,
"Go get your family and get them out of the area. Don't tell them
anything, don't let on anything. Just get out of here and get your
family safe."

"What about
you?" asked Jack, through the noise of the rapidly panicking amass
of speakers.