Terminal Compromise - Winn Schwartau (fiction book recommendations TXT) 📗
- Author: Winn Schwartau
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slightest indication of a smile. The crow’s feet around his eyes
were caused by pudginess, not happiness. When he sat opposite
Foster in a matching chair, he began without any pleasantries.
“I hear you are the best.” Homosoto stared at Foster. It was a
statement that required a response.
Foster shifted his weight a little in the chair. What a way to
start. This guy must think he’s hot shit. Well, maybe he is.
First class, all expense paid trip to Tokyo, plus consultation
fees. In advance. Just for one conversation, he was told, we
just want some advice. Then, last night, and the night before,
he was honored with sampling the finest Oriental women. His hot
button. All expenses paid, of course. Miles knew he was being
buttered up, for what he didn’t know, but he took advantage of it
all.
“That’s what’s your people tell you.”
Foster took the challenge and glared, albeit with a smirk dimpled
smile, politely, right back at Homosoto. Homosoto continued his
stare. He didn’t relax his intensity.
“Mr. Foster,” Homosoto continued, his face still emotionless.
“Are you as good as they say?” he demanded.
Miles Foster defiantly spat out the one word response. “Better.”
Homosoto’s eyes squinted. “Mr. Foster, if that is true, we can
do business. But first, I must be convinced. I can assure you
we know quite a bit about you already, otherwise you wouldn’t be
here.” Miles noticed that Homosoto spoke excellent English,
clipped in style, but Americanized. He occasionally stretched
his vowels, to the brink of a drawl.
“Yeah, so what do you know. Pulled up a few data bases? Big
Deal.” Miles cocked his head at Homosoto’s desk. “I would assume
that with that equipment, you can probably get whatever you
want.”
Homosoto let a shimmer of a smile appear at the corners off his
mouth. “You are most perceptive, Mr. Foster.” Homosoto paused
and leaned back in the well stuffed chair. “Mr. Foster, tell me
about your family.”
Miles neck reddened. “Listen! You called me, I didn’t call you.
All I ever knew about OSO was that you made ghetto blasters, TV’s
and vibrators. So therefore, you wanted me, not my family. If
you had wanted them you would have called them.” Miles said
loudly. “So, keep my family the fuck out of it.”
“I do not mean to offend,” Homosoto said offensively. “I just am
most curious why you didn’t go to work for your family. They
have money, power. You would have been a very important man, and
a very rich one.” Homosoto said matter of factly. “So, the
prudent man must wonder why you went to work for your Government?
Aren’t your family and your government, how shall I say, on
opposite sides?”
“My family’s got nothing to do with this or you. Clear?” Miles
was adamant. “But, out of courtesy for getting me laid last
night, I might as well tell you. I went to the feds cause they
have the best computers, the biggest equipment and the most
interesting work. Not much money, but I have a backup when I
need it. If I went to work for my family, as you put it, I would
have been a glorified beancounter. And that’s not what I do. It
would have been no challenge. Boring, boring, boring!” Miles
smiled sarcastically at Homosoto. “Happy now?”
Homosoto didn’t flinch. “Does that mean you do not disapprove of
your family’s activities? How they make money?”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Miles yelled. “How does that grab you? I
don’t give a flying fuck. They were real good to me, paid a lot
of my way. I love my mother and she’s not a hit man. My uncle
does I don’t know what or care. They’re family, that’s it. How
much clearer do you want it?” Miles continued shouting.
Homosoto grinned and held up his hands. “My apologies Mr. Foster.
I mean no disrespect. I just like to know who works for me.”
“Hey, I don’t work for you yet.”
“Of course, a simple slip of the tongue.”
“Right.” Miles snapped sarcastically.
Homosoto ignored this last comment. The insincere smile left his
face, replaced with a more serious countenance. “Why did you
leave your post with the National Security Agency, Mr. Foster?”
Another inquisition, thought Miles. What a crock. Make it good
for the gook.
“‘Cause I was working for a bunch of bungling idiots who insured
their longevity by creating an invincible bureaucracy.” Miles
decided that a calm beginning might be more appropriate. “They
had no real idea of what was going on. Their heads were so far
up their ass they had a tan line across their chests. Whenever
we had a good idea, it was either too novel, too expensive or
needed additional study. Or, it was relegated to a committee that
might react in 2 years. What a pile of bullshit, a waste of
time. We could have achieved a lot more without all the inter-
ference.”
“Mr. Foster, you say, ‘we’. Who is ‘we’?” Homosoto pointedly
asked Miles.
“The analysts, the people who did the real work. There were
hundreds of us on the front lines. The guys who sweated weekends
and nights to make our country safe from the Communists. The
managers just never got with the program.”
“Mr. Foster, how many of the other analysts, in your opinion, are
good?”
Miles stepped back in his mind to think about this. “Oh, I guess
I knew a half dozen guys, and one girl, who were pretty good.
She was probably the best, other than me,” he bragged. “Some
chicken.”
“Excuse me? Chicken?”
“Oh, sorry.” Miles looked up in thought. “Ah, chicks, fox, look-
er, sweet meat, gash, you know?”
“Do you mean she’s very pretty?”
Miles suppressed an audible chuckle. “Yeah, that’s right. Real
pretty, but real smart, too. Odd combination, isn’t it?” he
smiled a wicked smile.
Homosoto ignored the crudeness. “What are your politics, Mr.
Foster?”
“Huh? My politics? What the hell has that got to do with any-
thing?” Miles demanded.
“Just answer the question, please, Mr. Foster?” Homosoto quietly
ordered.
Miles was getting incensed. “Republican, Democrat? What do you
mean? I vote who the fuck I want to vote for. Other than that,
I don’t play.”
“Don’t play?” Homosoto briefly pondered the idiom. “Ah, so.
Don’t play. Don’t get involved. Is that so?”
“Right. They’re all fucked. I vote for the stupidest assholes
running for office. Any office. With any luck he’ll win and
really screw things up.” Homosoto hit one of Miles hot buttons.
Politics. He listened attentively to Miles as he carried on.
“That’s about the only way to fix anything. First fuck it up.
Real bad. Create a crisis. Since the Government ignores whoever
or whatever isn’t squeaking that’s the only way to get any atten-
tion. Make noise. Once you create a crisis, Jeez, just look at
Granada and Panama and Iraq to justify Star Wars, you get a lot
of people on for the ride. Just look at the national energy
debate. Great idea, 30 years and $5 trillion late. Then,
‘ooooh!’, they say. ‘We got a big problem. We better fix it.’
Then they all want to be heroes and every podunk politico shoots
off his mouth about the latest threat to humanity. ”
“That’s your politics?”
“Sure. If you want to get something fixed, first fuck it up so
bad that everyone notices and then they’ll be crawling up your
ass trying to help you fix it.”
“Very novel, Mr. Foster. Very novel and very cynical.” Homosoto
looked mildly amused.
“Not meant to be. Just true.”
“It seems to me that you hold no particular allegiance. Would
that be a fair observation?” Homosoto pressed the same line of
questioning.
“To me. That’s my allegiance. And not much of anything else.”
Miles sounded defensive.
“Then, Mr. Foster, what does it take to make you a job offer. I
am sure money isn’t everything to a man like you.” Homosoto
leaned back. All 10 of his fingers met in mirror image fashion
and performed push ups on each other.
Foster returned Homosoto’s dare with a devastating stare-down
that looked beyond Homosoto’s face. It looked right into his
mind. Foster used the knuckles from both hands for supports as
he leaned on the table between them. He began speaking deliber-
ately and coherently.
“My greatest pleasure? A challenge. A great challenge. Yes, the
money is nice, don’t get me wrong, but the thrill is the chal-
lenge. I spent years with people ignoring my advice, refusing to
listen to me. And I was right so many times when they were
wrong. Then they would start blaming everyone else and another
committee is set up to find out what went wrong. Ecch! I would
love to teach them a lesson.”
“How unfortunate for them
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