The GoldenCity

He checked the speech in his suit coat pocket as he made his way to the south end of the hallway. The glass and wood cabinet that contained Jeremy Bentham’s body had been surrounded by delegates at the beginning of the party, but now the dead philosopher stared out into empty space.

Bentham believed that the remains of famous men should never be cremated or hidden in tombs. Instead, their bodies should be turned into something he called “Auto-Icons” that would inspire future generations. Dressed in his own clothes, Bentham’s skeleton sat on a chair with a cane resting on his leg. A broad-brimmed hat partially covered the wax model of his face.

Michael felt no sense of awe looking this effigy. But he was impressed with the fact that-even in death-Bentham demanded acknowledgement. Recently, the University College had fired the security guard protecting the glass case and had replaced him with a CCTV camera mounted on the wall. The creator of the Panopticon was now on the grid.

“Excuse me…”

Michael pivoted and saw that Nathan Boone was watching him. The Head of Security for the Evergreen Foundation was as solemn as a funeral director in a dark blue business suit.

“Do you have a question, Mr. Boone?”

“The schedule says that you’re giving the opening remarks. In the past, the staff has been allowed to circulate with drinks and refreshment for the duration of the party. But your email indicated that you’d like the staff removed from the area.”

“Yes, this is a speech only for the Brethren. No outsiders.”

Boone raised a communications device and spoke softly. “The Executive Director’s speech starts in a few minutes. Please clear the staff and guard the door.”

Two of Boone’s security men stepped from the periphery of the crowd and whispered something to the waitresses. Still holding their silver trays, they headed for the exit. But Boone didn’t walk away. He stared at the Traveler intently as if Michael’s necktie could give him clues about what might happen.

“Is there anything else, Mr. Boone?”

“The London staff informed me that you’ve organized a new team of employees.”

“That’s correct. It’s the called the Special Projects Group.”

“And you’re using my men.”

Michael concentrated on Boone’s face. The Head of Security was trying to control his emotions, but his eyes and the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Like Mrs. Brewster, he was being eased out of power, and he appeared to understand the implications.

“Yes. I accessed the database and hired a few of the men you used for previous operations. I wanted to get things moving along and you were busy with your other responsibilities.”

“Can you explain to me what these ‘special projects’ might be?”

“I do have a plan, Nathan, but I’m not prepared to give the full details at this time. After this speech, I’m going to ask for full authorization from the executive board. It’s clear that the Brethren have been focused on local or regional goals. It’s time we committed ourselves to a more aggressive worldwide strategy.”

Boone’s fingers trembled as if he wanted choke Michael. “We’ve been fairly aggressive in the past.”

“You’ve been an outstanding employee, Nathan. We all appreciate your loyalty and hard work. You’ve shown us the right path. I’m just taking us a few steps farther.”

“When can you give me more information?”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Michael reached out and slapped the older man’s shoulder. “With your help, I’m sure we’re going to be successful.”

He left Boone in front of Bentham’s body and strolled to the end of the hallway. The delegates were sitting on folding chairs or standing near the interior windows that looked out at the cloister garden. Michael stepped behind the podium, took the speech from his coat pocket, and gazed out at the crowd.

Studying the faces of the delegates, he realized that they could be placed in three categories. Some of them were openly suspicious, while others were curious about their new leader. The small group that sat around Mrs. Brewster was hostile, glaring in his direction and then whispering to each other.

The last waitress disappeared out the doorway, followed by the two security men. Nathan Boone stood behind the seated guests and nodded to Michael. Everything was ready. Speak.

18

Everyone in this room seems to know about my background and my special gift. The late Kennard Nash, a man of great insight and wisdom, was the first member of the Brethren who realized that a person like me could be an asset to your cause. I will always be grateful for his faith in me. He was supported by a number of people here-in particular, Mrs. Brewster. Her dedication and hard work continues to be an inspiration to all of us.”

A few of the delegates applauded Mrs. Brewster. She nodded and raised her right hand as if to say: Please, it’s not necessary. Then she looked back at Michael with a look of barely disguised rage.