Read Online Futureland - Nine Stories of an Imminent World by Walter Mosley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Walter Mosley
Ads: Link
do not mean this as an insult. It's just that I had been told that I would be in the presence of a god. It's a relief to know that you are a man."
Kismet's monocled eye flashed twice. He studied Akwande, or maybe the images transmitted electronically to his brain. His body jerked from a small spasm and then he smiled.
"What do you want, Fayez?"
"Justice," the co-chair of the Sixth Radical Congress said, beginning a long practiced speech. RadCon6
had made a great investment of time and money to bring him there. Two men had died while on investigating missions. Fayez himself spent six months in a bug-ridden hotel waiting to be allowed a one-hour interview with Ptolemy Bent at Randac Corporation's maximum security research facility in Madagascar.
All of that and he had less than a whisper of a hope that he might be successful. Fayez Akwande felt as if he had been working toward this moment his entire life. He'd always worked to free the minds and bodies of black people around the world. As an archaeologist he pressed to prove superior intellectual and scientific advances in ancient and prehistoric Africa. As the congressman from Newark he fought to increase awareness of the widening gap between rich and poor. And now, as the co-chair of RadCon6, he meant to engage the most powerful man in the world, to force him to bend his will for the good of Africa, Africans, and the African diaspora around the world. He felt that if he could turn Ivan Kismet toward his own goals, the rest of the world must surely follow.
"Justice," he repeated, "and the offer of our friendship." Kismet nodded. A loud bird screeched somewhere nearby.
"You offer me friendship?" Kismet ridiculed.
"And the opportunity to use your power for history," Fayez said. He had more to say, but his advisors had suggested a slower approach.
"I do what I want," the absolute ruler said. "You would see that if you let me entertain you. The ancients struggled to make gold out of lead. I can make a dog out of a cat, a Hindu god with six arms, an advertisement for Flapjack computers lighting up on the dark moon. I don't need friends." Akwande had seen the ad. Maybe the rest was also real.
"It's not love we offer, Doctor, but respect for you. Millions are starving--"
"I command more of the love and support among the people that you profess to represent than you could ever imagine." Kismet's tone was derisive. "The black masses have taken to Infochurch like bears to honey. My message that God is a riddle and the world of science filled with His clues has captured more imaginations than any King or X or radical assassin." He eyed Akwande maliciously at the last word.
"We do not assassinate," Akwande said simply.
"Three of your slayers were stopped on this island." Kismet clasped his hands together and squeezed.
"Not mine, Doctor. That was RadCon5. They believed in overthrow. I believe in change."
"For change, my friend, you need power. I am power--but I am not yours."
"Then why am I here, Ivan?"
"You're the one who asked for the audience."
"And you accepted. I find it hard to believe that you would waste time on someone you didn't have an interest in."
Again Kismet smiled. Again the flashes behind his monocle.
__________
"He wears a monocle that's electronic, it has a light that sometimes flashes," Akwande said to the twenty-six-year-old convicted killer, Ptolemy Bent.
"When does it flash?" the lion-haired youth asked. Ptolemy's intelligence was accepted as the greatest in recorded history.
"At odd times. But almost always when he is posed with a difficult problem."
"And you say his weight changed after 2031?"
"Yes. He went from 195 to 202. I only mention it because he had maintained 195 for a dozen years."
"And when did he start wearing the monocle?"
"A year before the weight change."
__________
RadCon5 had studied Kismet for years in order to plan his assassination. Later, RadCon6 continued the study, for more complex reasons.
Kismet also had a
Kismet's monocled eye flashed twice. He studied Akwande, or maybe the images transmitted electronically to his brain. His body jerked from a small spasm and then he smiled.
"What do you want, Fayez?"
"Justice," the co-chair of the Sixth Radical Congress said, beginning a long practiced speech. RadCon6
had made a great investment of time and money to bring him there. Two men had died while on investigating missions. Fayez himself spent six months in a bug-ridden hotel waiting to be allowed a one-hour interview with Ptolemy Bent at Randac Corporation's maximum security research facility in Madagascar.
All of that and he had less than a whisper of a hope that he might be successful. Fayez Akwande felt as if he had been working toward this moment his entire life. He'd always worked to free the minds and bodies of black people around the world. As an archaeologist he pressed to prove superior intellectual and scientific advances in ancient and prehistoric Africa. As the congressman from Newark he fought to increase awareness of the widening gap between rich and poor. And now, as the co-chair of RadCon6, he meant to engage the most powerful man in the world, to force him to bend his will for the good of Africa, Africans, and the African diaspora around the world. He felt that if he could turn Ivan Kismet toward his own goals, the rest of the world must surely follow.
"Justice," he repeated, "and the offer of our friendship." Kismet nodded. A loud bird screeched somewhere nearby.
"You offer me friendship?" Kismet ridiculed.
"And the opportunity to use your power for history," Fayez said. He had more to say, but his advisors had suggested a slower approach.
"I do what I want," the absolute ruler said. "You would see that if you let me entertain you. The ancients struggled to make gold out of lead. I can make a dog out of a cat, a Hindu god with six arms, an advertisement for Flapjack computers lighting up on the dark moon. I don't need friends." Akwande had seen the ad. Maybe the rest was also real.
"It's not love we offer, Doctor, but respect for you. Millions are starving--"
"I command more of the love and support among the people that you profess to represent than you could ever imagine." Kismet's tone was derisive. "The black masses have taken to Infochurch like bears to honey. My message that God is a riddle and the world of science filled with His clues has captured more imaginations than any King or X or radical assassin." He eyed Akwande maliciously at the last word.
"We do not assassinate," Akwande said simply.
"Three of your slayers were stopped on this island." Kismet clasped his hands together and squeezed.
"Not mine, Doctor. That was RadCon5. They believed in overthrow. I believe in change."
"For change, my friend, you need power. I am power--but I am not yours."
"Then why am I here, Ivan?"
"You're the one who asked for the audience."
"And you accepted. I find it hard to believe that you would waste time on someone you didn't have an interest in."
Again Kismet smiled. Again the flashes behind his monocle.
__________
"He wears a monocle that's electronic, it has a light that sometimes flashes," Akwande said to the twenty-six-year-old convicted killer, Ptolemy Bent.
"When does it flash?" the lion-haired youth asked. Ptolemy's intelligence was accepted as the greatest in recorded history.
"At odd times. But almost always when he is posed with a difficult problem."
"And you say his weight changed after 2031?"
"Yes. He went from 195 to 202. I only mention it because he had maintained 195 for a dozen years."
"And when did he start wearing the monocle?"
"A year before the weight change."
__________
RadCon5 had studied Kismet for years in order to plan his assassination. Later, RadCon6 continued the study, for more complex reasons.
Kismet also had a
Similar Books
