Langdon left Frank after a couple hours. It is harder to investigate when you do not have intimidation at your disposal.

Fuck subpoenas. Where the hell is my probable cause anyway? He came to some conclusions on his way back to his office.

First, he would notify the FBI formally and informally.  I mean animals who glow in the dark; man-eating animals for chrissakes. And there is only one possible source of all this poison and NORTHCO is the only defense contractor in the area.

Second, he might just as well notify the Forest Service; state and federal. They must have reports on these strange goings on. He might as well pad their files. Besides, he might get some cooperation from them. If there is one place in government you can find real green nuts, real tree huggers, it is in the forest services. Talk about tree huggers and they do not like wild droppings glowing in the dark.

Third, he will notify the state and federal EPA.  They will wish to cya on this mess. They must look like they are doing something about all this. And with the killings in Pierre are putting this mess in the papers. Besides, there is a whole new 'team' running the federal EPA anyway and the old don't ask-don't tell rules are out the window.

Fourth, the State Department of Agriculture must get in on this. The blaming will begin soon. NORTHCO will start blaming insecticides and such for any disruption of the environment. But Agriculture will not like everything shoved onto its real constituency...the farmers. Besides, Langdon might get further cooperation from the ag guys and gals. If there is something fucked up about the environment, some evidence is bound to show up in the fields. And the state can deal with the feds on this one.

Fifth, it is a matter of procedure, but he must begin a discussion with the Attorney General's office.  See if the AG can help with some coordination of agencies in all of this. Besides, he seems to remember that Ralph had a little run in with NORTHCO on that murder last year. The wife had been the prime suspect but she 'disappeared' and he had the damnedest time getting any information from NORTHCO on anything. This corporate confidentiality coupled with the shield of national security made NORTHCO a more than formidable foe.

Sixth, Langdon thought that it would not hurt to call his old friend Clancy, Majority Whip in the State Senate.  The entire frickin legislature is filled with hunters. I mean they cannot be happy about this.

Paper work is not a waste of time. Not at all. There are protocols and paper can open doors. It can also cover asses like Langdon's.  And of course, he was dictating all this on his hand held and of course it was at the same time being transmitted to Sally at the office.

He shoved in a disc and looked around. Something was wrong. I mean the sun was just setting. He looked at the clock...five o'clock. What the hell is this? It could not have been much past noon or one o'clock at the latest when he left Frank's.

This is not the right road. This is the old road.

Meanwhile his radio was playing one of his favorites.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ib9I7vW0Ko&feature=PlayList&p=19A9583D35083FB8&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=49

What in the hell is he doing here? When things got like this, I mean when he was really rattled and alone,

there was really only one thing to do.

He pulled over the car to the shoulder and parked.  He opened up his coat and thought of his aunt Silvia.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5HEHwYWDzE

Sometime later...

Whoooooooooooooooooooo. Now that's how I spell relief.

Langdon cleaned up and buckled back up but as he looked out the window of the driver's side, he saw two glowing balls. He lowered the window and saw two armadillos going at it.

WHAT IN THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO THE STATE OF SOUTH DAKOTA?

Meanwhile back at the office, Sean was cleaning up. This double work load was getting to him. Son of a bitch he thought. Just then Sphincter jaunted in on him.

Where the hell are my f-46's &49's. How do you expect me to run this place without knowing the personnel situation and the income for the week?

Normally, I......aw forget it. Here are the fucking forms, Sean said while he handed them to his boss. You know it's not easy doing two jobs. We are only down four today...not bad for the flu season. Income is up but you already know that because we received the anticipated bonuses from DOD and Xe.  So LIGHTEN THE FUCK UP.

Adrenaline does funny things to certain mammals. Sean was a wuss. But he knew he was a wuss. He certainly never wished to be a hero. It was too difficult attempting to separate the good guys from the bad, the wheat from the chaff. He just wanted a simple life. Get up in the morning in a decent abode. Grab some coffee while reading a little news. Then clean up and get to the office.  At the office, receive your list of tasks for the day and then get the fuck out of there.

That's it in a nutshell.  Hope the corp does well so that you may keep your job. But do not take any of it seriously. Others were put on this planet to make a difference. Corporations were there to sell 'stuff'. What that stuff would be, where the financing would come from....it really had nothing to do with him. Sean was always put in some slot where he would moniter certain aspects of the goings on and duly report variances and such to his superior. That is why it was so easy to work with Frank. He knew Frank really never gave a damn either. He was just happy to have someone like Sean around. Someone who performed the tasks demanded, refrained from bitching about anything, and reported certain matters off the record.

It is all a function of what Sean called the corporate proto-conscious.  This crap about how somehow if I assume I make an ass out of you and as out of me. We are all asses, us humans and to pretend to be other than...well it's the real stupidity.

You do not think about anything in particular when you take a shower, unless you are considering certain mammalian urges at the time. Of course you assume the water is the correct temp after testing it through the curtain or door. You assume where the soap is even when you drop it. You assume where the shampoo and the liquid soap are. You assume that when you step out of the shower the floor of the bathroom will not only be in tact as you exit but that it will be at a certain level. You of course assume where the fricking towel is....you are simply proto-conscious the entire time while your mind takes you to other times and places.

As a matter of fact, the way to start a bad day is to experience things that rattle your assumptions and throw you out of protoconsciousness. For instance, you get into the shower and reach for the soap and it is not there, it is not where it is supposed to be.

Or as you don your work shirt for the day, possibly following a conscious choice of the proper shirt, your third button breaks off. Oh good, now I must put my attention to mundane things. Shite....Now the soap placement as well as the shirt button have thrown you off your game. As a matter of fact, in your agitated state you begin to ascribe consciousness to the shirt and to the soap and to the toilet that will not stop running and...

Well you assume that if the computer print out says you have so much money that week available for personnel and supplies, then there is so much money so available. You must, as part of your assigned duties check and recheck the figures through other software and other contacts--or else have someone else whom you trust perform those duties.  And that is the reason you were picked for the position you find yourself in with regard to the corporation. The corporation cannot, EVER, afford to have conscious people working on its payroll.

But you never question whether or not the particular duties ascribed to a particular governmental contract are good for the corporation, good for the governmental people involved, good for the public or good for the environment. That is against protocol, that is against corporate interests and, most importantly, that is in violation of specific terms of your employment contract. Hell that is anti-AMERICAN.

Sean thought about the motivational seminar held on the first floor auditorium on Tuesday. He could still see the broad with the fake smile looking like she belonged on a set with John Popeil. At least Popeil did not look like Andrea Mitchell. Here was this 55 year old woman attempting to look like she was 35 spouting all this crap about teamwork.  The united purpose.

Like in Monty Python's Holy Grail, the peons are piling the manure.  And Eric Idle is complaining as he performs his important 'job'; but as he spouts his discontent in Marxist Dialectic. As long as the son of a bitchin peon is piling the manure in the proper manner, let him spout. That is what I say.

Sean actually studied in High School and in his undergraduate curriculum. So he knew when she was quoting St. Clement of Alexandra or Ralph Waldo Emerson. Even Thorton Wilder was quoted:

See the lofty by reading, hearing and seeing great work at some moment every day.

Or even a Kraut by the name of Von Herder:

Without inspiration, the best powers of the mind remain dormant, there is a fuel in us which needs to be ignited with sparks.

This is so much bullshit. Thorton Wilder would have nothing to do with the modern day corporation any more than than Socrates would have anything  to do with a Socratic Methodological Law School. I mean who decided that this crap works? The corporation does not wish to ignite anything. Hell if these employees woke up one day, I mean really woke up they would show up with automatic weapons and go completely postal.

Corporations have more rights than individuals. At least those corps run by the smartest part of the grand oligarchs. They hide their secrets better than cheney hid his treachery. Paper trails are prepared so that when something goes wrong--which means someone was caught--there is someone down the line to be properly blamed.

And too much motivation fucks up the works. In order to be motivated one should know what the product is and why the product is important to the public, or customer or governmental unit or other corporation.

And most employees in most corporations do not stick around all that long anyway. Five years is normal and ten years extraordinary. Yet the motivational seminars ask for true allegiance to the PLAN, to the AIMS,  to the ORGANIZATION.

WHAT A BUNCH OF CRAP.

Therefore it is the hidden message in these seminars; actually several hidden messages.

Your production had better increase over the next thirty or sixty day period or you are out.

Your smile had better be more pronounced over the same period.

Your acknowledgement of fiefdom toward the company and your superiors had better be more pronounced.

Your subtle acknowledgement of fear, fear for your future, fear for future references, fear for loss of your paycheck better be present at all relevant times.

So the hidden message in all these seminars is FEAR.

WELL SOMETIMES I JUST GET SICK AND TIRED OF ALL THAT FEAR.

 

 

Sean thought all these things as he gazed upon the body of Sphincter lying in a pool of blood on the floor of his office. Ha. What a look this guy has. Even in death that damn sneer is more than just evident. As Sean caught his breath he looked down at the letter opener in his hand.

It had been a gift from his school mates in graduate school. Actually Fanny had given it to him. This simple office tool that few in management ever used, was shaped like a grand Saracen's sword. It was curved and beautifully inscribed. Sean always kept it sharp and shiny. I mean it just slid right into this asshole's gut, like those Ron Popeil commercials on cable. The ones with the knives that run right through a tomato or a loin so smoothly, like knife through butter at room temperature.

He gutted the corpse from the groin up to the rib cage and scooped all the innerts into the bag on the tiled floor.

Sean wiped the blood off the blade. Of course he licked it first. Just for the thrill of it. This was the third time in as many years. He suddenly looked down at himself and noticed the blood all over his clothes. Yuck.

But it had to be done. Zoey told him it had to be done.  Oh and he was thirsty. Time for a brewsky at Castle.

Quickly he undressed, carefully folding his blood splattered clothes,  before placing them in the garbage bag. He went into his office bathroom and showered. While in his robe he went into his closet and dressed for the second time that day.  This time the shirt he had chosen worked.

Sean took the back stairs toting the garbage bag up to the fourth floor.  He deposited the bag  inside a door that said: CLEAN UP IN AISLE V. He took the stairs down to the first floor and exited the building, heading for the Castle.

Boy I could really use some of that fine house ale right now Sean mused.

Bernice had been waiting at the Castle for about half an hour, nursing her ale when a tall Black man came by and sat down at her table.

 Hi, I am Zoey.

 I'm sorry, Bernice blushed, but I am waiting for someone.

 Oh Sean will be with us shortly Bernice.

 How do you know me, my name?

 Zoey slowly went into the inside pocket of his suit coat and pull out a badge. He opened it for Bernice to see.

 It read simply: Security-NORTHCO Zoe Miller Head of Security

 But I have been working for NORTHCO for five years and never met you.

 I am around, as they say. 79 cameras just on the three floors alone Bernice. I just thought it was time that we met. There are only a few who I interface with during a typical week. Sean is one of them.

 Oh. Bernice was a little confused over all this. And because of her recent meetings with Frank and Sean she was more than mildly suspicious of exactly why the head of security was introducing himself at this particular moment.

 Is there any specific information you need from me, I mean in your official capacities? Bernice began working on her mug of ale with a little more intensity.

 Oh, I just knew that Sean would be a little late; he is taking care of some last minute clean up for me.

And he told me that you might be meeting him later here.  But, as long as we are here and all, how are things over in accounting?

 Well Zoe, as you know we have completed a full report for shareholders on the fiscal year that just ended in September and now we must do a comparison to our calendar year projections. All these materials go to the independent auditor sometime in the next two weeks, you know.

 A busy time Bernice I am sure. But I had heard that there was some problem with receivables. That is, there appeared to be a discrepancy between the monies sent from the government and the actual deposits.

 I am surprised that security would deal with something like this Mr. Miller. I already had a meeting with Mr. Sphincter and his adjutant...I forget his name...yesterday morning. We thought that there was a problem at the bank. You realize we use a local bank--that is really owned by NORTHCO--and we have had scuffles with the principals there over a few issues including charges.

 Well Bernice, that is what I heard. But this is for your ears only. Understand.

 Bernice just looked at him.

 I wish to tell you something that is for your ears only Bernice. Understand?

 Oh, I am sorry, of course. Yes I am all ears.

 Sphincter had a secret account at a bank in Michigan. We discovered some $350,000.00 there and we discovered a clerk at the bank who had a 'special' relationship with this Sphincter.  It turns out that he has been funneling funds to that account for over two years.

 Oh that does not make my department look real good, does it?

 No Bernice, we checked you out. You are pure as the first snow cover and we even found fourteen separate memos by you, directed to Sphincter, about your concerns. You did your duty, that is for sure.

 Just then Sean appeared carrying his own mug.

 Hey Sean, everything taken care of? Inquired Zoe.

 Oh for sure Zoey. For sure.

 Did you leave proper instructions as we discussed?

 CLEAN UP ON AISLE V.

 

GREAT.

 

(New episodes every Monday & Thursday, for older episodes visit my blogsite: 

http://forestroot125.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html)