Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #170: SWAT (3/7/00)
Fragga sits in a dim corner of the Capitol headquarters of the SWAT organization, located in a basement in a low-rent district.
Fragga is painting a huge banner trumpeting the organization's name-- Sime Workers All Together.
Fragga is a old, tough female renSime with gray hair like rusty scouring pads and thick calluses on her hands and feet.
Fragga spent most of her life as a laborer, lumberjack and miner, but now, in her old age, has won the esteem of her co-workers to the extent that they have chosen her to represent them to the bigwigs in Capitol.
Fragga puts the finishing touches on the banner and moves it so it will dry more quickly in the cold breeze that blows through the broken pane of glass.
Arat carefully descends the narrow steps to the cellar, stooping to navigate the low doorway.
Arat's nostrils twitch at the offensive smell of the paint.
Arat does not belong there, and he knows it, and so does everybody else.
Arat is, however, carrying a packet of papers that is very much wanted here, not that it belongs any more than Arat does.
Arat tries not to look at the basement very closely. For one thing, he might see something he doesn't want to see. For another, he has already seen what he wants.
Arat heads purposefully toward Fragga.
Fragga glances around, startled by the powerful presence of the young Audnes, whom she has been expecting.
Fragga reminds herself that he does not like to be called by that name any more.
Fragga grins toothily.
Fragga: Tuib Arat.
Fragga: Glad you could come.
Arat is obviously uncomfortable with his surroundings, but most here would undoubtedly prefer that in a Tecton bureaucrat.
Arat nods once, then pro-offers the packet.
Fragga grabs a tray with some chipped crockery.
Fragga takes the papers with a spare tentacle.
Fragga: May I offer you some tea? Got the good kind here-- Number 2 blend.
Fragga is proud to offer tea that actually has some real trin leaves in it, rather than just bark and stems.
Arat hesitates, then nods.
Arat had been hoping to drop the papers and run, but of course they will want some form of human contact.
Fragga measures out the tea with the tentacles of one hand, while starting to undo the paper packet with the other.
Fragga: And what have we here, my boy?
Arat: Everything as I promised.
Fragga cackles a bit to herself.
Fragga quickly fills the teacups so she can turn her full attention to the papers.
Fragga hands Arat his cup, some barky bits still swimming in the dark brew.
Arat stares at the twirling particles, then bravely takes a sip. His nostrils and eyes are burning because of the paint fumes.
Fragga slowly peruses the papers. She is very proud of herself for having learned to read ten years after changeover.
Fragga: Oh, the devils! The slimy sons of Pen dung beetles!
Fragga reads the part about the engineering evaluation of the Snake River Dam. She doesn't understand the scientific stuff, but the concept that the Dam may collapse any time within the next 5 years is quite comprehensible.
Arat feels uncomfortable at having arranged for the theft of the documents, and at allowing them to fall into non-government hands. Then again, he feels even less comfortable with the idea of letting himself get pincered between Neptude and Neptude's reputation.
Fragga: There are hundreds of thousands of people down river from Palisades Lake!
Fragga: Both Gen and Sime towns.
Fragga: Hundreds of miles of cultivated farmland.
Arat is 100% loyal to the Tecton, and not at all in argument with the current schedule of completion of the project. But one must use the tools one has at hand.
Arat: Yes, it is disturbing, is it not?
Fragga: If that Dam goes, it will be a disaster.
Fragga: If Gens die and farmland is destroyed, how will the Tecton provide for the survivors?
Fragga: It will be as bad as the Unity War.
Arat spent his childhood watching his parents trying to wring blood from the stone of junct rebellion. He knows what will inflame people, and he knows that this organization that Fragga leads is capable of leading the people into an uprising that will cause more than enough trouble to allow Arat the room he needs to maneuver.
Arat: There are, of course, the trade issues as well. [points out]
Arat: Without the reservoir, the mountains will be nearly impassable for trade goods.
Fragga: By the Masters, that's true.
Fragga: Lumber and ore would all have to come out by mule-back.
Fragga: Or they'd have to build a new rail line through the high mountains.
Fragga: The Snake River's white water for miles below the dam.
Arat finds it necessary to produce a kerchief and dab at his nose. On the plus side, it is a good excuse to set the tea down temporarily.
Fragga reads a little further, discovering the documentation of the Tecton/government cover-up.
Fragga: The bastards!
Fragga: Think we're all head-blind as Gens; they gotta take care of us so we don't panic.
Fragga: Hah!
Fragga is enraged by paternalistic government. No one who promised to take care of her has ever come though, starting with her mother.
Arat had had some reservations about approaching a group as renSime aligned as this one, considering that was his parents' main influence as well. Unfortunately, however, this group was really the one whose goals matched his most accurately.
Fragga started relying entirely on herself after her 4th husband emptied her bank account and gambled it away.
Fragga has learned that other people not as learned in life's lessons now look to her to take care of them. And that is the foundation of political power.
Fragga: I'll show them they better be worried about their own hides!
Arat studies her keenly.
Fragga looks up at Arat, assessing him in return.
Fragga thinks he is very imposing, tall and as handsome as his father was. She regrets she isn't oh, about 10 years younger and only on husband one or two. All the same, his face has a rather pinched and unhealthy cast to it.
Fragga: So what's your stake in this, Tuib?
Arat has spent quite some time devising what each person should believe, in this dance of deception.
Arat: For part of it, I have shipping interests on the Snake Reservoir.
Arat: [this is true enough; he invests his money rather than spends it, and prefers farm, manufacturing and transportation investments]
Arat: But I also want to return to Norwest Territory.
Arat: For personal reasons.
Arat knows most people will assume political reasons as well, but that is all right.
Fragga smiles grimly. She is well aware of the history that sent Arat Audnes into exile from New Othwol.
Fragga: You've been in Capitol many years now.
Arat nods.
Fragga: What would you suggest as the best way to convince the big wigs to give this dam project an... uh... higher priority?
Fragga mouths the educated jargon with distaste.
Arat dabs at his nose again, and then one of his eyes. He wishes he were in his adequately-ventilated, pristine office building.
Arat: I think an expose published in the Capitol Herald would be a good start.
Arat: You are connected within the Herald, I assume?
Fragga's eyes gleam.
Fragga: Oh, yes.
Arat: You will then set out to educate the masses as to the nature of the situation - all in the name of preventing a panic, of course.
Arat: Speak at factories, at meetings, anywhere you can obtain an audience.
Arat: There will be a government response.
Fragga: Perhaps a suggestion that everyone down-river from the dam should evacuate immediately.
Fragga: Drowning and attrition are nothing to sneeze at!
Fragga smiles in amusement at the idea of a tent city springing up in the public park.
Arat: Your interests will not be particularly in conflict with those of business, in this case. You may obtain unexpected support.
Arat isn't going to make any specific promises, since A) he doesn't want anyone to be able to point any more fingers at him than absolutely necessary, and B) he still has some clandestine maneuvering to do business-wise.
Fragga: True. And if this plan is put into motion, there may be interesting opportunities for investment.
Fragga considers the disposition of the SWAT retirement fund.
Arat: When the time is right, I will publicly support the cause of moving the schedule ahead.
Arat: When that happens, you must direct your people to demand me as their representative.
Arat: Then we will be even.
Fragga considers.
Fragga: We can mobilize the farmers and small businessmen as well as the workers and day laborers.
Arat doesn't feel like a representative of the people at the moment. He feels like a somewhat muddied swan which has minced its way into a pig sty and is attempting to lead the pigs to higher things.
Fragga: That would increase our numbers and put pressure on the city and regional government.
Fragga: You will have your followers calling for your leadership.
Fragga gleefully considers the opportunity to expand her power base.
Arat nods, satisfied.
Arat: And now, I really must be going, or I will be missed.
Fragga notes that Arat barely touched his tea and seems to be shrinking from the ambiance of good honest dirt in the office.
Fragga: Yes, you better run back home, my boy.
Fragga: Before you're missed.
Arat is so anxious to be away from there before anybody spots him, that he overlooks anything he might not have liked about her tone of voice.
Arat: Thank you, and good luck.
Arat disappears up the narrow stairway.
Fragga: Good hunting, Tuib!
Fragga wonders if she is doing the right thing pinning the hopes of her organization on such a hothouse flower, but as a worker she figures she will get the best use of whatever tools come to hand.
Erness ambles out from behind some boxes of flyers.
Erness is the sort of friendly, mellow, yet politically radical type that all political organization offices have 2 or 3 of wandering around in them.
Fragga: Hey, Erness, did you catch a zlin of that?
Erness: Not as much as I wanted to.
Erness grins.
Fragga: Royalty descended.
Fragga waves her tentacles to take in the grubby room.
Fragga: All the way to the basement.
Erness looks around, but is so used to it all he sees is: Their office.
Erness: Do you think he was telling the truth?
Fragga: About what?
Erness shrugs. "Everything".
Fragga: He's a channel. Hard to zlin.
Fragga: But he wants something or he wouldn't have come.
Erness: I'll say.
Erness: He almost left before he dropped in.
Fragga thinks.
Fragga: I believe him about the Dam because I got the proof right here.
Fragga waves the papers.
Erness nods appreciatively.
Erness: Score!
Erness: You've been waiting for something like this to come along.
Fragga: Yeah.
Erness hasn't been with the organization very long himself, but long enough to have learned that Fragga is no dummy.
Fragga: They've got to take us seriously about this one.
Fragga: He said it. Not just workers. Businessmen. Land-owners. People with pull.
Erness looks at the banner still drying on the wall.
Erness: We'll be needing a few more of those, then. [smiles]
Fragga: Lots and lots.
Fragga: We're gonna paper the town with them.
Fragga: We're gonna force the government to give us what we want.
Erness: How are you going to begin?
Erness has come to look upon Fragga as his teacher.
Fragga: Leak it to the papers, and then call a series of Crisis Councils.
Fragga: Pull the public into meetings we can stage manage.
Erness listens avidly.
Fragga: Once we've mobilized ordinary citizens, they'll put pressure on the legislature.
Fragga: They'll look to us for answers, and we'll have them ready.
Fragga thinks out the game plan rapidly.
Fragga: We'll have an organizational meeting tonight.
Fragga: We'll require bodies to make copies of these documents and couriers to alert our members throughout the Territory.
Erness: I'll tell Volunteer Recruitment.
Erness means, the two hippies whose cubicle is in the opposite corner of the basement.
Fragga: Yeah, let's get cracking!