Electing Dawber
Hank Prendeville and his wife depart from their neighborhood near Sacramento, and reach the interstate. For several weeks they'll have a temporary home in another town. He'll have a business office there too. People describe him variously - executive, publicist, fundraiser. He likes the kind of work he's always done, but on the drive north he can't stop thinking about a concern which is different than this, an interest he keeps in the background. He's been thinking about it for at least a decade.
Some aspects of this have resurfaced. Not long ago he got a text from a man who introduced himself as Mr. Sime. The man said almost nothing about his background, but one of his comments motivated Hank to pay him a visit, in the traditional geographic sense. Actually, Sime would be visiting Prendeville.
Of course Hank has made this drive before, and even with his preoccupation he makes the trivial, appropriate statements to his wife - details about the more striking landmarks. Robin doesn't hear anything very unfamiliar. So the hours pass. A long drive can be pleasantly monotonous, and she dozes for a while. They feel confident when they finally come in sight of their destination.
Before long, as they drive past a shopping center in the town, he has a rather surprising impulse. He wants to buy a paperback novel that includes episodes of gold fever in Old California. In spite of himself he wants to read about gunplay and lynching. He can dwell too much on the idea that some nasty things have happened to people. Characteristic occurrences? Fortunately the Wild West was more boring than that. He doesn't have to dwell there too much if he doesn't want to. In any case he's left such thoughts behind when they turn into the driveway at the house.
But he does have a thought now that he's had before - about relocating for good to this part of the state.
Later, with Robin spending time at the grocery store, Hank meditates in the living room. A person's mind is such that revery can alternate with silent name-calling in quick succession. He has his detailed scheme for utopia. He'd like to tell you what would be different in this regard or that regard if the state capital was overhauled by his kind of utopia. He likes the city of Sacramento, but that isn't the place where his project would effectively commence. He's glad he hasn't gotten very close to the most renowned statesmen. He struggles to be optimistic. For some reason he's dismayed by the doctrines of a political party few people have heard of. It's called the Sponsor Party, and it's home grown in the sense of West Coast America. The Party's leaders are too incisive and original for Hank's comfort.
He's never convinced anyone that the Party has been contaminated by what the journalists refer to as 'the latest movement.' Over the past century there's always been a latest movement, but if the phrase itself means something very distinctive this time it's hard to say what that is. The term has really caught on. Though he frets about this for a solid block of time, he lightens up when his wife returns from the store.
Two days later he welcomes his newest email correspondent when the man shows up at Hank's office. Thinking of what the man has already told him, Hank suggests that he give an exposition of his world view. The man does this concisely. It's a very strange point of view, but the publicist can handle it. There's no friction.
They also discuss the advantages and disadvantages of this town, Redding. Then they move to some other topics - 1) a business that flourishes in the region. It's a resort facility, a trap for the callous and shallow. 2) maybe associated with it, maybe not, is the region's wealthiest family.
Oscar Sime tells him, "It's hard to blame the Novis people for what goes on at the fairgrounds. It would make a difference if we could do that."
Hank replies, "Even harder, maybe, to blame Wendell Novis for that one man who's overseeing the resources there."
"But you say we have testimony for that."
Hank nods. "And it's from a person who's acquainted with Novis employees and some workers at the fairgrounds."
He restates, but this time explicitly, some things he'd suggested before in emails. Then he adds, "We do need to be careful."
Oscar admits, "I'd say we can use this testimony you found. What do you call it - a retrospection? But we can't talk to the person who gives the testimony."
"I don't think we have to know who it comes from."
In defining his mission Hank has used a written account that belongs to an online group of memoirs. The person who solicited the narratives meant for them to be universally accessible, and he meant them to be a contest. From the viewpoint of the public all the narratives except for the one that wins are kept anonymous. Yes, they've been called retrospections. Hank's favorite one vilifies the rich man already mentioned.
Wendell antagonized Hank some years ago by scorning his conservation scruples. He also offends the esoteric allegiance that claimed Oscar. As a man whose opinions are well known, he doesn't have to seem charming. People who hear him speak at length can get a mistaken perception of his facial features and his manner - that they indicate self-satisfied victory. In fact he doesn't have the prominence in business that his brother Gary has, but he has rapport with artists and a few talented cranks. It's also true that the Novis firm, not having gone public, showcases a brigade of climate skeptics immune to the seeming orthodoxy. To make matters even less fortunate, Wendell has expressed admiration for the Sponsor Party. The fundraiser from Sacramento might well consider an alliance with Oscar's group, even risking one that's problematic.
When he's conferring with Oscar, Hank's afraid to identify by name a group of sometime agitators - a peculiar type he can sympathize with. Before long he'll think he needs to be less inhibited.
Oscar has his own reluctance to get very personal. He might never tell Hank his most bizarre belief. He remembers - if that's the right word for it - his experience of plunging into a sinkhole and being pulled off to the side through slush and gravel, vanishing from the sight of anyone who looked into the sinkhole from street level. He'd been pulled out of the hole, but not back to the surface. He was face-to-face with a disgusting sapient being. The creature used a tactile method somehow serving as communication. He informed Oscar that the creature's aggressive species would spare one person when they conquered humanity. That one person would be Oscar. Now that he'd gotten this message the human returned in a mysterious way to street level.
During the past year Hank's interviews have labored a certain point. He keeps raising a question which must be obvious : has the resort complex harmed the environment more than other such businesses have? He feels that scientists managed to convince enough legislators. If only you didn't have to convince other people too.
In their emails Hank and Oscar had already mentioned another prominent person.
Now Oscar inquires, "Do we need to know more about Vince Dawber?"
"Not immediately."
The resources at the fairgrounds have been overseen the last eight years by Dawber. His credentials make him attractive to the state government's legislative and executive branches. Dawber's personality increases the attraction.
Though Hank's message this time is understated, he deplores the ravages committed by industry and commerce. He can draw someone like Oscar towards his ideals if anyone can. Even so, the alliance would be temporary. He sounds off, doing a good job without too much environmentalist fervor. There's such a thing as apparent common cause. He also thinks, for slightly more than a split second, about how this partnership exemplifies the latest movement. Then he finishes by insisting that a kind of enjoyable product be delivered to various towns here in the north. Previously he's been known for the selfish indulgence in tirade. That sort of thing can use different media. He sets aside his belief that there's something old-fashioned about posters. These will be placed in a few dozen locations.
He asks the other man, "Have you always lived in this part of the country?"
"Born and raised," Oscar says with a hint of privilege. "I had a few misadventures elsewhere when I was young and foolish. The Navy was a joke. So was my office job in Tallahassee. I saw the light and came back west."
"Returning home from everyman's learning experience," Hank answers. "Good deal."
Oscar has a crafty smirk. "You just have to meet some people with the right attitude. And connections, even if that seems opportunistic and selfish. Especially connections."
He stays on this theme for a while, sounding self-assured, perhaps naive. It might not be a problem for Hank.
Apart from what he's getting in this conversation he's been able to learn some things about his visitor. Oscar has friends - or bosses - with great influence. One of Hank's colleagues can readily provide several details when hearing the name in question. Without being sure of some rumors' accuracy, he can provide a sense of what Oscar's fellow dogmatists are thought to be like. Some of it has to be true.
The meeting doesn't last too long. He has a final glimpse of Oscar as the man returns to the vehicle he came in. What's interesting and surprising is another person - a passenger, not the chauffeur. This man occupying the back seat gets out and comments to Sime as both men stand by the car for a moment. His build is improbable. He's as big and arguably as well built as the very athletic Ryan Crouser. Would Oscar need a bodyguard? Both men take their places in the car, and it moves quickly away.
Now he thinks of something he didn't mention to Sime. He'd like to avoid encounters with a nonprofit agency that's been given the name Extra-Cultural. The agency's professed mission is to encourage acceptance for different kinds of heritage. But what does the agency itself refuse to accept? They monitor the outspoken, including men of Hank's persuasion. The group's peculiar charter and field operations have been disconcerting.
And there's a somewhat relevant detail Hank never quite forgets. He knows that less than a half hour's drive would take him to the great architectural reference point of the Novis family. It's Wendell's brother's house. The family estate includes a few hundred acres. Roughly a third of them are covered with fir trees.
At the residence, Kyle Herman has an easy chair this hour, but he's concentrating on his work. This is the room where Gary Novis likes to spend his own time with reams of consequential data. Gary's work today has been repeatedly interrupted by nonessential concerns. He's regarded by some achievers as a less than ideal organization man. He may not be the most brilliant person Kyle has ever known, but he's properly systematic, industrious, tactful, patient, etc. There's no doubt he's been winning enough arguments. He's there at his ordinary-looking desk.
Once again he swivels the chair and faces Kyle. "Are we actually being targeted this time? By someone different? "
Kyle answers, "I'd have to say it's targeting, not that we can feel it. The reason would be the usual politics."
"This guy you recommend, the guy with the Sponsor Party - "
"Miles Remnick."
"You think he might help us."
"What I said was, they have an attorney we could use."
"Let's talk to him," the boss urges.
Kyle tries not to be too skeptical. "Depending on the terms, we might keep him separate from any of - " He notes a change in the other man's expression.
Gary comments, "You're pretty sure they'll have Dawber on the ballot for state office."
"It's just that Remnick's been talking about him. For our purposes right now the attorney's what matters."
Gary's mildly impressed by what he knows of Remnick's beliefs. He suspects he could fall in line increasingly with Wendell's loyalty.
He says, "Forgive me for sounding selfish, but I need to protect the company. My brother can protect himself. He has to make a point of that for some reason."
"He brings out the worst in his critics," Kyle agrees.
Gary insists, "We've been cautious about this, and we've been moderate. The family has never been paranoid."
"I'll have a talk with Dawber," Kyle says. "It almost happened a couple of times. I was available, he wasn't." Still in the easy chair, he's got his eyes closed. "Remnick seems comfortable with him, but is there much enthusiasm? I think there might be."
The rich man declares, "There should be enthusiasm, or there should be a replacement."
Kyle's own opinions tend to be carefully stated. Despite his position of responsibility he's gotten attention in the press only once. That was the time he was quoted saying, "It's just as well that the most attractive women are not famous." He survived the subsequent clamor.
The retrospection that vilifies Wendell hints of a thrust which is more elaborate, hard to uncover and especially hard to track. Another, more benign, contribution to the website actually resulted from a series of interviews that were held here at the mansion, within the library. The task of conducting the interviews was left to Kyle. When the memoir later appeared and was brought to his attention he saw his name in the text. He decided not to communicate with the writer. Now this comes up in conversation, as it has at least once before. The person's name is mentioned. He was an elderly man who lived over at the coast. He was never political in the sense of trying to replace one official with another.
"He's deceased as of 2022," Kyle states.
Gary comments, "I talked to him that one time and he said he wasn't trying to win first prize, but he cared about the subject matter. When I looked at those statements by some writers on the website there were less than a dozen. Do you think they got what they wanted?"
"They - you mean Remnick? I'm not sure what he wanted."
Gary says, "I thought they were supposed to talk politics. None of the ones I read mentioned elected public officials."
Kyle explains it this way : "I don't know the reasons behind it. I was only told they were supposed to talk about civic issues without considering personalities. Of course you'll never see that happen."
Vince Dawber has been described as running the show at the resort facility. Wendell approached him not long before the onset of the Covid lockdown. With respect to their social views the men are perceived as kindred spirits. A person in the Sponsor Party learned of the connection, and perhaps made too much of it. Vince does have deep and thoughtful concerns about government.
He's spent most of his career at the fairgrounds, acting as Director. For many of those - probably most - who go there and have a look at the action, it seems unattractive or just plain repulsive. He's never been outspoken about it, either defensive or otherwise in relation to the public.
A video production labeled a 'documentary' is being kept ready for release when his election campaign gets underway. The video makes claims about a legend. Namely, Vince rescued two men who had been injured and stranded on a mountainside. He's very close to some of the movie stars. And he achieved an innovation that helps correct people's dietary standards. Outside of the video he plays these stories down.
Wendell gave him a tour of the Gary Novis residence and the adjacent facilities. The studios and garden were worth seeing. Vince had heard of the place, but precious little. He savored the long afternoon visit. He'll remember the big room that had the strange plastic object - it felt like plastic, he was allowed to touch it. The object was fashioned by Gary's nephew, quite the craftsman. Wendell can only describe it as a hedron. Gary heard his nephew tell someone it's an 'icosahedron attached to the end of a cylinder,' but like his brother he thinks of it only as a hedron. Somehow it's meant to express partisan views for which Gary can have no enthusiasm, but he accepted the gift and allows it to be displayed. Gary the conciliatory.
The sights at the house were so memorable that Wendell and Vince gave only five minutes to some earnest opinions about society. That's enough time to be dogmatic.
In talking to Vince, Wendell never complains about having been accused. He's looked at the retrospection once and only once.
He also knows that Kyle's uncomfortable with a mindset which is called 'Shasta Lore.' Out of curiosity Kyle's read some of the lore, especially those aspects that might cling to the Novis lines of commerce. He's disappointed by not finding evidence that suggests the adherents are spoiled rich kids. It surprises him to learn they don't have an exotic guru. He can't cast off the suspicion though. He wonders about the secret gatherings. He believes they happen, even if they have little resemblance to what you see in movies. He can believe that nefarious decisions are made there.
Gary himself is known to be exasperated by the local stories. Uncanny experience at the fairgrounds, uncanny experience at the mansion ...
Residential neighborhoods differ. Kyle's own house, definitely modest compared to Gary's, was built at the edge of superb wilderness. Another house is fairly close by, but that's it. The area gets glorified by Hank and visited by Vince. The candidate's interest is different than Hank's. He wanted to size up the landscape, since he plans to give informal speeches there in front of groups, treating the region as if it should be a tourist attraction.
Now and then Kyle thinks of that phrase that holds him, a phrase bandied about by enthusiasts : 'the undying man from Eurasia.' That fabulous individual, the creature participating nonstop from antiquity. The name that usually comes up in this regard is Lazarus, but there have been some other names, and the folklore has been fastened to a real person. They think they know who he is. Here and there in small town America Kyle has actually seen the character in question. There's nothing remarkable in the man's appearance.
But he doesn't know for sure if someone claims to have seen this man at the fairgrounds. Kyle has yet to spend time at that place himself. He knows it stands out from the other festivals happening this early in the year.
He'd also like to understand why Extra-Cultural, the recognized NPO, sent him a baffling text about the undying man. Sometimes baffling is for the purpose of demoralizing.
It occurs to Kyle that he should get out of the easy chair. He can remember what part of his job needs immediate attention.
He says to the boss, "I'd better check with Dale about the schedule."
After he begins walking towards the front of the house he recalls that Gary's son had said he'd be in the skylight room. He turns in that direction, arriving soon at the place where the young man is at work by his huge easel. Here the artist has depicted some eerie metropolitan high rise architecture. He has bleak images of the streets and pedestrians. To Kyle this painting, like the others Dale has produced, can only seem worthless. But he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He's more impressed, honestly, by the nephew's work. Few employees or associates ever complain about Kyle. Gary seldom presumes to correct him. As for the schedule, it has to do with some interviews Dale needs to be giving. He's being coached by Kyle in preparation for those dour sessions. Right now, though, still at the easel, Gary's son makes a remark that surprises the man standing there. He lets him know he's doing some assignment for the Sponsor Party. The older man should probably wonder about the assignment, but he refuses to.
He's vaguely aware of the differences in opinions between Gary's son and Gary's nephew. Those differences naturally include some beliefs about political parties. Now that he thinks of it, he remembers them expressing their opinions about Dawber. Neither of them resent the man or glorify him.
A moment later, as he moves down a hallway towards the room where he has to set up for his time with Dale, he sees a kitchen worker in a room off to the side. The man seems to be on his break. He's leaning against a counter, he's pleased with himself and he's pleased with something that resembles an eclair. When he bites it open the interior oozes with a lavish goo that suggests gratification. Kyle steps into the room.
He looks around at this compartment which is adjacent to the kitchen. He gives the employee time to finish guzzling.
The man says, "You caught me having fun."
"I won't tell anybody."
The man finishes emerging from his dream.
Kyle asks, "What's the next big event?"
The man replies, "The swarm of people from social media."
"Right, something I'm allowed to forget. Let's see - they're promoting dietary standards that guarantee good health and longevity. It's the wife who's behind that."
"And they tie it in with the festival," the man says. He holds another eclair.
"Don't let 'em see you with junk food," Kyle advises.
"Misnomer," the man says. "Junk food, worse than junk, has to be more like whiskey and meth."
Kyle comments, "Dangerous or not, it won't help you stay photogenic."
"Since when do people have to be attractive?"
Kyle doesn't mind listening to the man's mischievous remarks about his coworkers. It's over in two minutes.
The administrator studies the room. "Not quite a second kitchen. I guess you call it food prep."
The worker tells him, "And food experimentation, but let's keep that between you and me."
Kyle nods and has a friendly grin.
He's heard about the most vehement objection which has been expressed - publicly expressed, that is - to the dining practice they have at the festival. The objection was made last year by a car dealer visiting from out of state. It was about something besides the dietary fanaticism. There's a protocol that only kicks in once you're seated at the table and your plate is coming. By then it's too late. Some customers can't handle the protocol. Nevertheless the innovators claim their way of doing this benefits those who partake.
Kyle speculates as to whether he'll be deterred from attending the festival.
He exits the food prep area, leaving this man to his common person snack imperative. One thing light-hearted might lead to something more serious, and he believes the less said the better. Kyle avoids the social-philosophical cliches of this corporation. But he believes in the importance of the work they accomplish.
Two of the daughters have made an appearance today, moving through the big front room on their way to the rooms they used to occupy full time. Linda came first and gave a pleasant greeting. She and her husband have a sizable ranch fifteen miles from here. Later it was Erin, the youngest one, who arrived. She's married to a reasonably successful investor. Bella's the second oldest child. Her visits to the mansion are less frequent than those of her sisters. With her history of four marriages and a worsening problem of substance abuse, Bella's the Novis family demimondaine. She and her sisters often get together at other locations. The second youngest child, and only son, is Dale Pike Novis. He came to the house this morning a few minutes after Erin. He visits more often than Bella, but not as often as the other sisters. He's been married for a couple of years. Gary's wife comes home every week night about supper time, driving from the Redding office where she serves as a glorified social worker. Wendell stops by once a week, usually on Saturday. In its way, the family coheres.
The following day a very strange thing is reported happening at the Lassen Volcanic National Park. Witnesses, in later talks with half a dozen friends or associates, will describe it only as 'The Sighting.' A therapist and his client are the witnesses. They'd first met at the fairgrounds, where it was agreed that they should make use of the Park's hot springs. Neither man thinks The Sighting involved a cryptid. They have less to fear from the anomaly than do a group of men who sustain the festival's budget. These other men have a sense of terror that comes from the racial subconscious. The witnesses don't mention their experience to the authorities or the news reporting media. Reasons for that are understandable.
In effect their silence is a request, "Please don't give our playground a false reputation. The futurists from Silicon Valley swear by that hydrothermal treatment..."
A broad view of these rampant social phobias can be gained by an element which is well concealed and even conspiratorial, but having a basic identification with society. It's impressive what they can authorize without it being obvious who's to blame for it. No doubt if you talked to them you wouldn't guess their actual mentality. They don't want you to know their motives, and they don't have a flagrant demeanor. As a class they could be called investors. They have their own way of messing with the latest movement.
At least one of the zealots working at Extra-Cultural has been bemused by the retrospections. And he learns of the Sighting somehow. He knows what everyone knows - that the resort community has its own cherished archives. Much of the public discourse in this geographic region feels like defiance against occultism. A few of the stories from the archives are notorious items. The zealot has gotten used to the stories. He weighs in via derisive tweets without enlightening anyone.
He's heard about examples of talented operators who sneak their way in and sneak back out from the corporations that have men like Gary Novis at the top. This time the operator's Hank Prendeville, and he might sneak back out. A businessman recently made known to Hank that shares of ownership in the firm were available. Even though he paid for the shares with real money, the transaction was a scam in the sense that Hank disguised his identity. When it comes to cyber-deception he's an authentic genius. No one expects a man like him to join the ranks of such profiteers. It's easy, though, to recognize a tactic. He'll have access to the most entertaining lines of information, perhaps more intriguing than useful. Sure, he'd like to inflict damage.
The zealot's told someone that he favors Remnick's political organization. He has Hank's ability for deception. He's accepted by the others at Extra-Cultural because they don't know everything about him, and he's a force the man from Sacramento would hate to reckon with. If he wasn't accepted by the agency they would still be an unfortunate influence. All kinds of businessmen have been warned about Extra-Cultural.
Journalism has content besides dogma. People think of the statements as factual, but they can be nebulous. There's a woman who doesn't know she's contributing to a phony scandal.
Sharleen Evans hasn't heard of Prendeville or Sime. Nevertheless her dissident friends include some of their dissident friends.
Like she's always wanted to be, she's in the indoctrination business. That doesn't mean she has a blog or a talk show. It does mean she's often been in the same room with a politician or some other notable. These days her efforts keep directing people's attention towards the likes of Wendell and Vince. In doing so she's been taking her cue from the best known purveyors of what might be described as character assassination. Their work is easy to find. In a malicious onine narrative Wendell's accused of extortion.
It's clear that she wants to make use of a young man named Tom Roalsen, even if he's in the category of hopeless activist. His parents have had a long time friendship with Sharleen. But she won't give him opportunity as a way of pleasing the parents. It's merely that she thinks he might be useful.
There's something she confides to her best friend one morning. Sharleen invited her for breakfast. They're pondering a lack of results. For the most part it's about her colleagues instead of her employees. Tom has been working for one of the colleagues.
She remarks, "Vince Dawber's come a long way, far enough that we're mentioning him in our surveys. In his case we talk of potential. It's probably more than talk."
Her friend answers, "But the major polls don't mention him."
As if people in the real world care about the latest opinion survey.
Sharleen's willing to sound realistic. "Anyone can be a pollster. We're not exactly considered major, that's true. It's a good thing we do more than surveys."
There's also the reputed bankrolling of his imminent campaign.
The friend replies, "From what I've heard about him it's odd to think of him running for office. Would he be motivated?"
Sharleen's convinced he would. "Times change even if some things don't. Miles Remnick tells everyone to sound like a populist. Vince goes along with it."
"You say populist - doesn't that term get applied to almost anyone?"
Sharleen replies, "Not to most like it does to Vince. And he calls himself that repeatedly."
The friend asks, "Does he say anything honest about all the social unrest?"
"Honest, I suppose. But he needs to talk more about this emerging political system - the emerging economic basis."
At the moment there isn't much more they think to say about it. When they change the subject her friend tells her, "You were complaining about an advantage your competitors have."
Sharleen answers, "I think I said something before about Tom Roalsen. That kid gives them all the help they need from one volunteer."
Tom, the kid, is thirty-one. Soon he'll be working with Sharleen.
"So populism exploits volunteers," the friend concludes.
"Why do you put it in the worst light?"
The friend explains, "Because I still have to recover from my experience as a teenager, when I saw some volunteers in action. At that age I didn't think I'd live longer than the wives of Ben Cartwright."
There's further expression of her sarcasm, somehow avoiding vitriol.
Yesterday Sharleen became aware of the retrospections. Amazingly, she can tell who wrote the one that defames Wendell. But she doesn't know he's being defamed. It took her most of the afternoon to go through the memoirs, and two or three seem less than credible. One of them includes an anecdote about the undying man. It's the memoir contributed by the old man who sat for some interviews in the library at the mansion. To Sharleen the anecdote's unfamiliar, a fleeting fictional reference. To the old man it was merely perplexing, but he took that opportunity for his repudiation of Shasta lore.
Now that she's read the online group of narratives that were assembled by Remnick, she has new thoughts about a late winter speech given by Dawber. She'd been there in the audience. The speech had no mention of Wendell, nor anything forcing it to be seen as declaration of candidacy. It's true that some audience members thought of the speaker as political material. Others valued his emphasis on the cultural slant you'd find at the fairgrounds.
One of the narratives, especially and somehow, reminds her of the speech by Dawber.
Tom Roalsen has beheld the mystery man in recent weeks, by means of images coming to his ordinary cell phone from another person's phone. This time it's different. At a shopping center he recognizes the one he sees when they move past each other. It's five feet between them, they're on escalators, and the stranger's coming down as Tom rises. This other man has a medium build. Tom notes a tended cut of hair on a man who's moderately good looking, but he can't observe the man sufficiently. He refuses to accost him. He'll never see him again this side of paradise. Never again, perhaps, for all eternity.
He recalls the frank statements Dawber made last year in an essay published by some glamor-drenched magazine. The essay suggested he couldn't be happy with a Democrat or a Republican administration at any level of government. He didn't name his preferred alternative. But there was another topic. Implicitly the comments in the piece ridiculed any popular type of occultism. Tom's trying to walk a margin between Dawber's view and a careful esoteric. His philosophical slant won't change much.
He's also read an unfriendly paper that categorizes Dawber and the fairgrounds together as an atrocious cultural symptom. He'd like to hear more about this even though - or especially because - he's attracted by Vince the candidate. Still, he's one more person who's wary of the resort.
Not every contender for the prize in public life is bound to be devoid of talent. But even with talent some persons will take time to get untracked.
Miles Remnick is no household name even though he founded a political party - the Sponsor Party. He might be better known if he wasn't too subtle. The sponsors he thinks of are separate from the class of private sector employers. But his hypothetical regime would not resemble socialism. It's easy to underestimate this man who likes to spend time with professors. Adepts of the political system have yet to provide a familiar label for Miles Remnick. The reaction to his point of view is usually confusion instead of hostility. This continues for some time after Vince begins making campaign speeches.
Miles has dilemmas that might seem comical. One of them involves a prediction made by some woman whose name he'd like to forget. She declared that his proposed candidate would be victorious in several consecutive elections, each office higher than the last. The woman claims her information was revealed by a Lemurian's telepathy. Remnick doesn't need that kind of support. He knows he can't screen out the most unfortunate boosters.
His arguments for placing Vince Dawber in a state office haven't been as clearly formulated as they could be. And the retrospection contest he initiated might not help him improve the arguments.
It's clear who his people would remove in favor of Dawber. Necessarily the incumbent is anti-someone. He doesn't come across as anti-American or anti-White Male. You could say he's anti-Capitalism, anti-Militarism. On the other hand you could say he's pro-Covid vaccine and such, pro-Bidenesque open borders. He's almost as young as Dawber. He champions the rigorous nature of science, the presumed endless benefits coming from there.
Because of these and other considerations, the Party founder decides to visit a man named Jeff Darga. Jeff wrote one of the memoirs. He's also published a novel that Miles has read. It emphasizes the author's purported social conscience along with scenes of action, that is to say, blood and guts. It intrigues the adherents of Shasta lore without committing the author to much along those lines.
Jeff's affordable residence has been there awhile. He receives the visitor, and the two men have their discussion at a table in a small room. For Miles it's quite a first impression : he sees a man of the mid to late thirties, obese and clearly devoted to a book there on the table, a book that might also be described as obese. Miles furtively notes the title. It's 'The Nazi-Soviet Death Struggle.' The book's a thousand pages worth, and right now Jeff points out that it was written in English by a man from Latvia. Jeff doesn't tell people this historian's true significance : he's one of Oscar's destructive confederates.
The table has a multitude of cigarette butts in a few ashtrays. There's half a dozen empty soda pop cans, all of them RC Cola. This encounter makes it clear that Jeff has never disdained a tattoo. He's the sort of intelligent man who doesn't keep up appearances.
Miles tells him, "Death struggles can't be pleasant reading."
Jeff admits, "Especially when the story goes on and on." He's in a confessional mood. "I had to take a break from the world of light entertainment. As a reader, I mean. I'll take the same break some day as a writer." He talks for a while about having wasted time. But he's made a reference that won't be lost on his guest.
"Latvian, eh? Apart from the graveyard motif, what's the book like?"
"It's about the obvious - what people have described as the Central European Mind. Heroic and rebellious in its own way."
"Central?" Miles replies.
"Central, Northern Eastern Central, whatever."
Miles comments, "And I suppose the book has a warning for modern America."
Jeff answers, "Warnings come from the critics, not so much from the author."
Miles would like to stay on good terms with Jeff in spite of being lukewarm concerning the man's rhetorical emphasis, a peculiar militarism. In conversations now and then Jeff adroitly combines the militarism with other values. He avoided bringing this up in the memoir.
These men move from the subject of killing to the subject of building. Because of the Sponsor Party's fixation with high society, they consider the attributes of Gary's house. They've both seen some photographs. A democratic purist might call the building a marvel of unreasonable dimensions. But he'd have to admit that the architect's design avoids anything too strange or too familiar. Before committing to a given design, Gary studied such things intensively. He likes the building and the isolated place. As a topic for discussion this house is the sort of thing that doesn't catch on, a truth which few people notice. Not that some neighbors would care. Not that someone else lives close by.
They talk for several minutes about the retrospection contest and the fact that it was initiated by Miles. He'd placed a condition on the narratives. They were to have a common theme : how the civic policies and practices had been developing in the greater Shasta region. Miles hadn't suggested that anyone mention the Sponsor Party, and nobody did. The narratives make for a limited batch of contributions. Readers enjoy seeing the oddities in the texts that were submitted.
His motivation for establishing the group of narratives remains independent of his politics. The memoirs bask in the culture of northernmost California. They have no interest beyond that region. The Sponsor Party by contrast would like to cover the entire nation. The truth is, if there's a separate limb of the Party, that limb is being established in New England. It's leader doesn't claim equality with Miles. He calls himself Miles' follower.
Jeff refrains from asking, "How could I possibly win the contest?" He might as well not ask. He'd won the contest, and because of that he was the only one Miles identified by name for the readers.
But he does have a question. "So what do you think of the novel?"
Miles frowns. "Absurdly two-fisted - "
Jeff has gotten that response from a couple of other persons. He doesn't mind the candor.
Miles elaborates. "A man from the NSA visits Redding and similar places. He has to defend himself and a young woman from the local brand of criminal mystics. You seem to be tying it in with politics hereabouts. Trying for a sordid fusion."
"I tried," the novelist admits.
"That fanciful stuff about geology," Miles remarks, "I'm guessing that's for laughs."
Jeff says with a shrug, "Entertainment."
Miles noticed, when he entered the room, a copy of the novel. He asks the other man to hand it over, and Jeff hands it over. Miles thumbs his way towards the center of the book, finds the passage he wants, and begins reading aloud.
"I collared the board member in question. He was awkward and pasty-looking. I'd been told where he liked to spend his weekends. He kept a small farm and farmhouse out there in the county. I assume he had someone looking after the place, but he was the only one there when I arrived. There weren't any obvious cameras for surveillance. He wouldn't cooperate when I asked for some information, and I'd brought something for that just in case. I made him swallow that stuff the company tries to sell - that vile, 'curative' tonic. So he made some harmless confessions. I could see I wasn't getting anywhere. I made some verbal threats that didn't work, either. Okay, some more of the tonic had to go through his kisser. That got me what I wanted, though it had to wait till he was done regurgitating. Pretty much finished with the farmhouse, I took the board member outside and threw him into the slop that was accumulating by a fence. I haven't heard from him since."
After a long enough pause by both men the novelist replies, "And your point is?"
Miles tells him, "He's degrading a board member of a company that sounds like the Novis firm even if it has a different name."
"That's true, but I can honestly say I wasn't thinking of the Novis firm when I wrote that book."
"You've never been against those people?"
"It's hard to be against a group if you never hear about that group."
Miles admits, "You can do what I wouldn't be able to. You can sell a story that has the home town crowd being rescued by some guy from the East Coast."
They critically discuss the story's use of suspense. Then Jeff says that if he writes more fiction it's going to be more serious. After some statements about the novel's take on California politics, they express their opinions of candidate Dawber.
"He needs to be more belligerent," Miles points out. "He'll do that."
"But does he know how to get people's attention?"
The visitor seems unsure. "Anyone has to learn lessons if he runs for public office."
"I've got an audio with one of his lectures. He could use a catchphrase or two."
"He'll come up with that," Miles promises.
They say more things about Dawber, without sounding too optimistic, and certainly without pessimism. Finally Jeff expresses commitment of sorts. At the end of this little conference they agree to meet again 'before very long.'
In the following days Miles complains of one major adherent leaving the fold, and then a lesser one - the major example defecting to the Republicans, the lesser one going who knows where? Miles and Sharleen are both acquainted with the lesser example.
Roalsen, impoverished bachelor, how dare you change your mind!
Dale Novis and his cousin talk about the sponsor class that Miles proclaims. Is it really being established? So far the Party itself has little to brag about. According to Miles' doctrine the sponsor class defeats the mainstream of investors - those businessmen who exploit the social phobias. Dale can't grasp it if his cousin's artwork supposedly makes political statements. But he likes the fact that, with so many escapades in his background the cousin has never gotten in trouble. Because of escapades more than icosahedrons, he's almost famous. Gary still expects the artist will become sensible.
Vince and Kyle spend some time reviewing a number of stated opinions about the Sponsor Party. Another man is present for the discussion - the founder of the Party. It's the first time Kyle has seen either man apart from photos. They consider several topics, including the commentaries that have been requested and posted on a website by the great Remnick himself. Kyle doesn't make it obvious that he's defensive about his circle having been targeted. They also mention the undying man who frequents the area. There's one possibility they discuss in detail : the thief on the cross, the one who asked the better man for mercy. They ponder a story line according to which he received mercy, was raised from the dead, and still walks the earth after two thousand years. They argue about whether this could be a form of mercy. One of them says the thief probably went to heaven and stayed there. Vince likes to talk, at least in private, regarding another point too. He can sound unfriendly about the more conventional citizens and their dislike of the fairgrounds. He's in danger of going public with his candor. It remains to be seen what Miles can do about this.
The worthwhile conference is followed by a repast. Miles offered to compensate three workers if they'd imitate, up to a point, something the festival is noted for. There's a serious difference between that and what's expected here. The food is palatable, worth trying and all that, but the associated philosophy will never convert these men.
At the social event's conclusion the first to leave is Miles. Vince takes a few minutes answering a question that Kyle has. Then both men walk over to the building's main entrance, and they exit. They leave the Party headquarter's compound, such as it is. After they reach Vince's car - the one they both arrived in - they continue the dialogue.
Vince drives onto the freeway. He mentions the environmentalist objection to the resort facility.
Kyle says, "Is it that much of a problem for you?"
Vince tells him, "It's more widely accepted compared to the Shasta tradition we've read about. I'm always misrepresented by those people."
Kyle infers, "Two strands of mysticism."
"Exactly."
Kyle says, "You think it's more widely accepted - are you saying it's even worse than Shasta?"
Vince might seem fair-minded. "I can't measure their value."
Kyle adds, "And I can't tell what to make of Extra-Cultural."
"Some of us don't go there."
Kyle states, "I take it every group trying to get someone elected is bound by regulations. What's it like for a third party?"
The other man says, "Too demanding. Actually Miles has been shielding me from that. Not for long though. He'll toss me into the water so I can learn to swim."
Kyle says grimly, "Being accused of things you didn't do. Being under greater pressure to account for the revenues. The things I've heard about running for public office."
Vince replies, "It might be more fun than what I've been doing."
He has a humorous anecdote about officials Kyle has never heard of. This example gives the impression that campaigning and then serving as representative would be worth it.
Kyle asks a final question. "Any comments I should relay to Mr. Novis?"
He gets an answer that's emphatic, but it doesn't mean much to him. He does try to reassure Vince.
"Gary's not the separatist monster people say he is. He doesn't have a secret regiment of child laborers. He doesn't buy and sell women."
"I believe you, my friend."
For several minutes after they reach Kyle's home they discuss Jeff's contribution to the group of memoirs. They agree that he was already making implicit references to a certain magisterial volume. According to someone somewhere the volume hasn't been good for Jeff's mental balance. Neither Vince nor Kyle would consider going through such a book, though they might watch a documentary about something like Stalingrad or Kursk. They couldn't see it having a relation to Northern California folklore.
There's one thing they both clearly despise - Jeff's unrealistic emphasis on the armed forces. And it doesn't seem consistent with anything else they know about his background.
One lawsuit filed against the Novis firm is very strange, and Gary doesn't take it seriously as a threat. He's more concerned about the common range of activists and whatever mischief the federal and state legislators devise. Even Hank Prendeville is embarrassed by the deranged litigation, since it takes the form of environmentalism at its worst. As a shareholder he makes known his understandable displeasure. He's aware that the suit was brought by an infamous member of show business. It received coverage for less than a week in the news reports. Related somehow, there was an intimation of murders happening in the backwoods. Wendell thinks the violence would be motivated by a hatred for the subculture of the festival. The litigation prompts Kyle to finally spend an afternoon at the resort community. Nothing there bothers him very much, and when he leaves the place he's thinking its reputation is exaggerated.
Miles and Sharleen become acquainted at some dignitary's press conference. Afterwards, at a table in a cafe one block over, they try to make sense of an allegation. Law enforcement officers have been taciturn about some graves located just outside the Lassen Park boundary. A mere two miles this way from the graves you could observe, at certain times, the performance of a strange ritual. A witness describes the action and claims to know what it's all about. He told Sharleen. He also told her that a stalwart of Miles' organization is complicit in what goes on there. This is news to the founder of the Party, and he's afraid it might be used against his favorite politician.
One successful businessman firmly believes in Dawber's ability and resolve to subjugate the less enlightened businessmen. He thinks the director of activities at the fairgrounds must, by the nature of his profession, be very good when it comes to intimidating some apathetic citizens. Dawber knows how, at least in public discourse, to avoid the tension concerning what happens at the resort community. Wendell for his part would be just as glad if his friend chose to stay out of politics.
Vince does have a bad day this week, and he isn't talking about the fairgrounds. He's being interviewed as part of a radio broadcast. He makes what he considers a light remark, but it's careless. The ramifications are extraordinary. Drastic rage builds up in some unpublicized bureaucratic circle. Wrath is expressed by a man who has knowledge of Sponsor Party dogmas - ideas he regards as new and extremely popular. He describes the measures he thinks they should take against the chief scoundrel. He means Remnick instead of Dawber.
Physical force is directed against Hank Prendeville instead - an attack, not very clear in its nature. One theoretician tries to explain it in keeping with Shasta lore. He believes the assailant was superhuman, definitely iniquitous. It wasn't Hank's guardian angel. He also tries to integrate the undying man with such lore, but it doesn't work. Other people say the attack was made by the agents of corporation espionage or the NSA. These theories don't work either. In any case Hank suffers lasting impairment.
Now he speaks with great difficulty, struggling to make himself understood. Abstractions he used to toy with are a sporadic display. He can't walk. He quivers with cold, and he has a constant grimace.
Oscar's willing to go over this with a serious businessman he's talked to just once in recent years, a man he isn't sure he can still trust. In this regard he has to take chances. He's talking with someone who's well-known to the Novis people. The man is Linda's husband.
This man has been given a favored office in the Novis corporation. Oscar's delicious plan would have him guiding the man's behavior to the company's detriment or, for that matter, destruction.
They're at a picnic table on a grassy ridge of low elevation. This piece of land is property of Novis in-laws. Both men glimpse more than once an unusual structure - an object at some distance but close enough that you can tell it's a huge house. Linda's husband was here once before, and he used binoculars. Today he doesn't bother with it.
Even if Oscar's beliefs are hard for colleagues and relatives to dislodge, he doesn't always feel secure in those beliefs. But the drive to see them prevail is there. His emotions have been stirred by the mega-mansion as if that building is a temple from which he's excluded for his heresy. Linda's husband doesn't seem enthralled by the house.
Oscar thinks this man could help him ward off the danger of Dawber. In talking with Hank a few times about the candidate, a splendid strategy was developed. Hank's out of the picture now, but Oscar has reliable friends. The likely triumph isn't because of his own ideas. He admits he's no Edgar Cayce. He doesn't have to be that creative as long as he can relish the brilliance of a particular friend - the Latvian. Linda's husband seems receptive to these ideas. Linda's husband is here, listening with a straight face.
Oscar tells him, "I know a man who could answer most of your questions. He wrote that book you heard us wrangling about. It's called 'The Nazi-Soviet Death Struggle.' He has the best understanding of what's to be gained or lost."
The man replies, "I found a copy of Death Struggle. You'd have to say the author's pretty ambitious."
Oscar states, "Erudite's the word as much as ambitious. He makes all the right comparisons. He can relate so many things to the fine points of social class and bureaucratic endeavor. He talks about those unrecognized relics of Czarism. With him the outrage is tempered by an informed realism."
Linda's husband says unabashedly, "I read five pages."
Oscar has a look of disappointment.
The phony scandal centers on the massive book about World War Two's Russian front. Wendell's innocent of the charge, but sometimes fantastic accusations are made. He supposedly endorses a policy that's mentioned in one of the chapters. Though Sharleen has looked through the book, she hasn't been able to find the scurrilous rhetoric.
Linda can say more about the book than her husband can. She's read a hundred pages. After sensing his lack of interest in the volume she made her own attempt at study. The couple spoke to each other about it. He recalls a portion of their talk.
Linda declared, "He's knowledgeable, but he couldn't have interviewed many survivors of the war. By survivors I mean the government leaders or the front line soldiers."
Her husband stated, "You think he couldn't have been very accurate."
"I'm sure he knows the outcome of battles and he knows the strategies and he knows which of the generals got killed. How much more do you have to know for publication?"
He said, "I bet you'll tell me who would like this book."
She paused for a moment, then replied, "Probably Vince Dawber."
How about that - he wasn't really caught off guard - she'd heard of Dawber.
A distinctive other-worldy vision - actually quite different than anything previous - began to be cultivated in places like Warsaw during the Nazi occupation. This was no run of the mill fanaticism. The original proponents were highly educated men showing temerity. Within a few years it was imported by the New World, enriching the esoteric heritage. Oscar has met the Latvian and cherishes the vision. Unlike him the Latvian has never claimed to have uncanny experiences, but they're both believers.
In fact the scholar tells his friend about fearsome social changes to occur in the near future. This will prove to be accurate, but he won't say it's a spiritual revelation. He'll say it's an inference based on the study of history.
This talk here at the picnic table has major omissions. In referring to Hank's misfortune, Oscar leaves out the facts he doesn't want Linda's husband to know about the conspirator.
Now the man tells him, "I do think about those old times, the fact that my parents were like you people. I was like you just as much. Then I got into college, and then career. More than that, I got involved with a family called Novis. But I still admit that you run with an interesting crowd."
Oscar's a bit miffed. "Interesting crowd? That sounds too much like the Mods and Rockers. We're serious critics. I need to hear something more specific about what changed your attitude."
"I grew up," the man says.
"No, there's something more to it than that."
The man replies, "I won't apologize for backsliding."
They notice a truck moving down the road towards the mansion. Sizable though it is, they can barely make out its form. Linda's husband speculates in a gratuitous way : the truck's cargo might be astonishingly expensive.
Oscar had heard about his fascination with mysterious examples of abuse, and he told him about the Latvian. Whether this man he's talking to proves useful or not, Oscar is capable in terms of recruiting. He isn't letting him go so easily.
The man continues to look at the residence, with his flippant side becoming obvious.
He declares, "The Sighting favors that location, but it's hard to notice if you're too close, there at the house." He has a solemn, insincere pose. "I come here often."
Seemingly without warning the state government introduces a regulation that's hard to understand and hard to believe. As law-making it's an absolute first for American society. Vince is one more person expressing a helpless reaction to this. Very soon a number of other states are enacting the same law.
California now has an appointed official who's another first in the nation's history. In a peculiar twist of American usage he's called the Chancellor. He's able to punish at least a few of the most prominent businessmen. He's described as Capitalism's nemesis. The other states moving in the same direction decide not to install their own such officials. They'll submit to the one from California.
A TV sage advises, "Don't worry. The nation is the same old nation, with a slight ripple of difference."
For some reason the Chancellor gives too much attention to the Sponsor Party. He doesn't mention Vince and he doesn't mention the Sighting. In response, though, other people do. The Sighting is associated with people who frequent the fairgrounds, and thereby associated with Vince. This quickly gives the candidate, who really didn't have a high profile, a reputation as a sleazeball. Some people flourish with such a reputation.
Because of these developments Miles has a brand new problem. The chief contributer to the Party revenues now insists on more conditions of his generosity. This change is welcomed by an outsider somehow hearing about it - the zealot who works at the offices of Extra-Cultural. He has his nominal and phony Party-based reasons for being concerned. He spends a long day together with Miles and the contributer, trying to agree on terms, and they succeed. It's quite some time before the Party's adjustment becomes known to Kyle Herman or Sharleen Evans.
Oscar approaches the zealot. He's known this man for several years. The antagonist from Extra-Cultural feigns loyalty to the Party, and like Oscar he inveighs against what he calls Fascism. Oscar tries to convince him that a violent act is called for. The man agrees.
Immediately after the new legislation there's a groundswell of commentaries about the paranormal. Some of these concentrate on the most recent European death struggle. If there's a political sentiment encouraged by this, it's one that Americans have never been ranting about. It does happen to originate in eastern Europe.
A Novis employee who has actually shaken hands with Kyle Herman has also read Jeff's novel. He thinks he discerns a mystical belief conveyed by the book, a belief implying something anti-Novis. He's reluctant to approach Kyle, but the cousin seemed accessible, having now and then given lectures the employee attended. He's frustrated because his talk with the cousin led nowhere. In fact a delusion was imparted by the cousin when he spoke at length about some design features of the great house. They supposedly have psychic influence. The common worker had wanted to visit the place, but now he's too wary. Like some other people he lacks a rigorous empiricism. He's also begun to fear that, as a rumor has it, Gary's residence teems with tokens of 'Aryan extremism.'
Quite a few persons are caught off guard when the resort facility closes down about this time. The shut down is only for a few weeks, but this year's festival has to wait till September. It's curious what this involves. Most of the resort's backers and staff members have a strange, temporary sickness. One of them claims to relay a message from a source he can't or won't identify. The message frightens a group that was chosen to attend the upcoming Sponsor Party caucus.
Therefore the week marks a turning point in Vince Dawber's life especially. The august Remnick has summoned his compatriots.
They hold their decisive gathering in an auditorium which is quite modest. At this point in a politician's course the outlook might be forever changed because a small number of advocates want it that way. Here the psychology is enigmatic, but the advocates are forceful, and Vince loses out. There's an unlikely additional factor. Though Sharleen prides herself on the fact that she never actually votes for someone, her deeds elsewhere at this time inadvertently contribute to the result. Also, some observers at the caucus will remember a verbal exchange that seems to bring the death knell. It's as if Miles, though present, has held to an inconspicuous role that he needed.
Then he names, almost immediately, the person to replace Dawber.
After that decision and some others have been made Miles is interviewed by a man who works for one of the major TV networks.
The news reporter asks, "Are you getting the sponsors you need? Sponsors in your sense of the word."
Miles answers, "We're doing much better than we've done previously."
"Your competition might say that that's not saying very much."
"They have to say that."
"Well then, can you tell us some big names that are declaring for the Sponsor Party?"
Miles comes up with a couple of names.
One thing he's been able to count on so far. Members of the press will never ask questions about the brief or fragmentary chronicles that he solicited for his website.
He talks briefly to a reporter from Belgium.
Miles confesses, "We don't have much for your serious readers at home."
The Belgian says, "It's fascinating the way political parties here try to recover from their disasters."
Miles answers, "I don't know if it ranks as a disaster. You have to have something before you can lose it."
The Belgian says, "The real story here is Dawber's festival background. I'm researching the way it's held against him."
"So you've noticed that too," Miles answers. He can live with the outcome.
Suppose a man has been walking the earth for thousands of years. Would he settle in California, like so many migrants have? At this time of the decisive caucus another strange rumor begins to circulate. It says that Gary and Wendell Novis happen to be Lemurians.
Before long the employer treats his most highly promoted manager to some colorful allegations about the caucus. He won't actually credit the spy he'd sent to the gathering.
After Gary mentions two scandalous examples he states, "The Party doesn't seem like the kind of big time operation that would have an assortment of degenerates. How can Remnick live with himself? I told my son there's no future in that group even though I thought there was until a week ago. Everything I've heard about the caucus chills my blood. I can't even guess where they'd find those people."
The right hand man says, with mock chagrin, "Lobbyists from corporations?"
"Talking to Remnick, of all people."
Gary and Kyle have been reviewing their protective measures. Their discussion is taking place in one of the smaller, more plainly furnished rooms at the big house.
Kyle says to Gary, "But with Dawber falling by the wayside we're no longer being targeted. At least not like we were."
Gary can believe it. Since he didn't yet have much invested in Miles' organization, his anxiety has been reduced to pre-Dawber.
They're hopeful as well because of something else that happened. A rather intimidating person showed up at the mega-mansion three days before the start of the caucus. He's the supreme spokesman for the latest movement. He offered to make a deal with the Novis leadership. He glories in a culmination, becuse Wendell, on behalf of the family and the business, agreed to the deal. Wendell the conciliatory. This afternoon Gary and Kyle take their ease, having a sense of accomplishment. Not feeling as desperate now about certain problems, they might combine celebration with a serious exchange of opinions. Everyone believes that critical turning points happen. These men think they've had one.
This morning Gary announced, "I've lost my prize possession - " he's ready to say it in full - "that icosahedron-with-cylinder. My nephew asked for it and I gave it back."
He hints at the younger man disowning the artwork he'd once offered as a gift. There was a sense of defeat. Though he has a friendly direct acquaintance with the supreme spokesman, the artist protests the end of the latest movement. Disappointments include the collapse of a beloved mystical school.
On the other hand Gary suggests, "Our beliefs and our business remain secure."
"But there's that accusation against Wendell," Kyle complains.
The problem should be resolved.
"He'll be here in a couple of minutes," Gary says.
They rise from the chairs and leave the room. They walk down the hallway to the front part of the house.
Wendell's already here, lounging at the sofa.
When the other two are settled he tells them, "Someone named Hank Prendeville has been in the area recently, not with good intentions for people like us. He's a businessman with some influence in the state capital. Or he was until a few weeks ago. Something strange happened to him. Now he's in assisted living."
Wendell explains what this might mean and how he learned of it, but at first they don't seem to care. They'd rather discuss Vince and his new situation.
Wendell remarks, "I talked to Vince for a couple of hours yesterday. He doesn't feel betrayed by Remnick. He claims that he finally senses a philosophical distance between himself and the Party."
Kyle's been waiting for the right moment to inform Gary of something. It's the right moment.
He says, "Jeff told me what he wasn't supposed to, according to Remnick. So he has a problem with Remnick. Jeff gave me the name of the man who wrote the nasty memoir."
Without a care, the man had sent a gloating email to the winner of the contest.
Now Kyle's boss answers, very softly, "Final justice."
Extra-Cultural, being led partly by the zealot, attacks one person the same way it attacked Hank Prendeville. But instead of the victim being the person Oscar had in mind, it's one of his allies. The result for Sime's group is a change in membership that amounts to an upheaval. Oscar has to start over with all his plans, and he makes things worse for himself by complaining in emails. Also, the federal authorities' crackdown on the nonprofit in question is about to begin, but that's what the nonprofit expects. Judges and prosecutors will have their hands full.
Already there's a drastic change in Miles' thinking. Done with his work one day, he goes home, feeling sure that his organization suddenly has real prospects for the better. The cause of improvement will be clear to the most thoughtful reporters. Vince Dawber is like any other person that Miles has tried to bring along, and he's the last one of that sort. Miles can finally move now in some other direction. That frenetic stirring about he's been stuck with lately - something has come of it.
He's formally declaring a change of heart about Jeff's victorious memoir, and he's thought of how to do that without looking treacherous.