He doesn’t trust me, thinks Director Smiles. He doesn’t respect me. I have nothing he needs. I have no leverage. All of this is not good for Smiles. He has bootlicked, backstabbed and connived his way to the top of the bureaucratic pile so that people would be forced to do what he said. And now Excelsior isn’t playing along. When the others find out that Smiles can’t control Excelsior, they will laugh. It will not be the knowing laugher of loving parents as they watch their children struggle to take their first steps. No, it will be the laughter of jackals who realize that one of their own will not survive his wounds and, for today at least, the feast will come without the effort of a hunt.
They will turn on him. And after he is gone, they will rename a section of South Dakota State highway after him. If Smiles had to choose between bureaucratic death and real death, he’d take real death. Except he is pretty sure he doesn’t have the guts it would take to kill himself.
So, mostly, he feels sorry for himself. Smiles is good at feeling sorry for himself. And it helps that the situation isn’t fair. Why did Excelsior have to do what Gus said and not what Smiles said? After all Smiles is Gus’ boss. Maybe Excelsior doesn’t understand that. Maybe he should try telling him that. But every time he sees the hero, Smiles just locks up. He can’t say what he wants to say. Everything just comes out wrong.
It isn’t fair. And the way Smiles looks at it, it is his job, the government’s job, to make sure everything is fair for everybody. If Smiles had stopped to think about it, he might have realized that this was the surest, shortest recipe for human misery ever invented. But he doesn’t think about it. He’s not in this game for the greater good. He’s in it for power.
Yesterday, he received a request from a Senator from California. An oil rig was falling off its platform. It could have easily become an ecological disaster. And, of course, the oil company would have to shut down production. Which would have been a financial disaster as well. The only way to repair the platform was to use a gigantic crane ship. There are only two in the world, the Gargantua and the Pantagruel. And both of them are inconveniently in Dubai being used to construct islands shaped like Disney characters. It would have taken many months and many millions to bring one of them to repair the senator’s oil rig.
But, as the Senator explained, Excelsior could save the day. He did not need a place to stand to lift that much weight. Wouldn’t take him but a second. So if Director Smiles could find a free moment in the big guy’s schedule, the favor would not be forgotten.
The thing is, this Senator is a member of the appropriations committee. He has direct influence on the disbursement of trillions of dollars. Smiles is no fool. If he can get this taken care of, he’ll have a chip he can play in the big game. And you can never have too many of those chips. Besides, it would be easy for Excelsior. So Smiles messaged him with, “Ecological disaster, come quick!”
When Excelsior arrives, he explains the matter to him. Not in the chip-in-the-big-game way, but in the hero-providing-a-great-service-to-his-country way. Sure Smiles stutters a little bit, but all-in-all he doesn’t do that bad of a job.
“I hate oil,” Excelsior says, “It takes forever to get it out of my suit. There’s got to be another way.”
“Not for nearly a year,”
“No.” says Excelsior. Then he flies away.
Thinking Excelsior was well out of earshot, Smiles shrieks, “You come back here!” In an instant, Excelsior returns. He floats an inch in front of Smiles’ face. “I said NO.” Smiles quivers with terror. Excelsior disappears in an instant, but Smiles shakes for many minutes afterwords.
When the terror wears off, the self-pity sets in. But it doesn’t last long. Smiles is spineless and contemptible, but he isn’t weak. He isn’t completely powerless. He walks to his office with a scowl on his face. He needs to get something on Excelsior. Or give him something he wants. But what could it be? What do you get the man who can do anything? What do you get on the man that nothing can hurt? For all his big talk and pain-in-the-ass, tough-guy attitude, Gus has something on Excelsior. He thought he was so much better than Smiles. But Smiles now realizes, that Gus has been playing the game just like everybody else. Everything is politics.
Smiles knows he can play politics better than Gus. Because he’s smarter than Gus. Isn’t he? He’ll get something on Excelsior, and then he’ll have the biggest chip in the biggest game around. Oh yeah, nobody will tell him what to do. Even the president will be nice to him. Nobody will ever play Smiles again. He’ll be above the game.
He sits at his desk. On it is an envelope with the words “The solution to your problem” printed in black magic marker on the outside. Smiles can’t believe what he finds inside.
It is a brief detailing how Edwin Windsor poisoned Gus. There are pictures of the device, a chemical description of the poison, and several 8x10s of Edwin patting Gus on the back. Edwin’s hand is circled in red. Oh, this is good. This is exactly what he needs to get into Excelsior’s good graces. Not enough to control him, but certainly enough to open up detanté.
Smiles almost considers that this might be a set up. He almost wonders who would benefit from having Edwin Windsor be the target of the most powerful man in the world. He almost checks to make sure that having Edwin out of the way will be to his advantage. Almost.
If he was smarter, or more cunning, he might consider blackmailing Edwin with this evidence, getting as much money out of him as he can, and then still unleashing Excelsior upon him. Director Smiles thinks of none of this. He allows himself to be played. What does he care? He’s getting what he wants out of the deal. What would he think if he knew that Edwin Windsor had prepared that envelope especially for him?
What would we think?