They Had a (Nightmare)

Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton was taking notes on a legal pad as Charles Wu continued to debrief her on his trip to China. (He had still been in Switzerland attending to former Senator Evermore Breadman after the fecal transplant when the call came from C. Coe Phant: Clinton needed Wu to gather some information in Beijing before Hu Jintao arrived in Washington this week. Wu had then leased a private jet so that Breadman could recline comfortably on the journey since, of course, Breadman had wanted to go with Wu but was still using special butt pillows.) Wu carefully recrossed his legs, finding the State Plaza Suites chair uncomfortable after the long flight from China, then decided to stand up and stretch his legs. He walked slowly and deliberately in gentle semi-circles, the way his university professors had done, frequently turning back to look Clinton warmly in the eye. He was wearing an English wool suit, tailored perfectly but not too expensive looking, freshly pressed by the hotel staff immediately after he had checked into this hotel near the State Department. The tie was a modern paisley in understated mixed tones of blue. (Breadman had been tempted to come to the meeting as well to discuss the high-level investment conversations that had occurred in Prince and Prowling's Beijing office, but he was still too uncomfortable and did not want to make a bad impression on the Secretary of State.) Wu had covered the Chinese communist party leaders, the growing Chinese middle class, the growing strength of environmentalists and human rights activists in China, and China's true views on regional security. There was only one topic left: Project R.O.D.H.A.M. "I want you to report straight to me now, Charles," said Clinton. Wu knew this was because of Wikileaks, but a momentary wave of exultation rolled over him anyway. He pulled his chair closer to hers, then sat back down at the table. Wu noticed Clinton was wearing the same perfume as his mother, and he suddenly realized he missed his family, whom he had not seen in weeks but would see soon.

Several miles to the north, Charles Wu's recently reunited parents were sitting quietly in his apartment. Charles Wilkinson Montgomery was sipping Scotch slowly while Ha Ling Wu was embroidering. They had not spoken a word since Wu had phoned them from the airport to say he needed to meet with the Secretary of State right away, but would return home later this afternoon. They had not told him that his sickly and crippled brother Phillip had suffered a heart attack and kidney failure ten hours earlier and was pronounced dead during the ambulance ride to the hospital. They now sat on opposite sides of the couch, a framed photo of Phillip facing them from the coffee table, and waited for their remaining son to return to them.

Back in Foggy Bottom, Phillip Montgomery's corpse lay in the George Washington Hospital morgue, a couple blocks away from the unknowing brother, Charles Wu. All of the organs--even the eyes--had been deemed too unhealthy for transplant. Their father had raised the possibility of leaving Phillip for medical research, but this thought was more than Ha Ling could bear, and she had protested (irrationally) that he had kept Phillip from her for decades and now wanted to separate him from his mother forever. Charles Wilkinson Montgomery had told the staff they needed to consult with their other son before making arrangements, and then they had left in silence. Their healthy, handsome, and successful son still lived, but they could feel the light and love of the family draining away in the death of the unhealthy, deformed, and handicapped son.

A few floors above, Ann Bishis was posing as Congressman Herrmark's daughter, since only immediate family members were allowed in the Cardiac Care Unit. The doctors were fairly certain that his heart palpitations had been anxiety-driven, but they had decided to run additional tests since his cholesterol and blood pressure were quite high. Congressman Herrmark had received his fair share of death threats in the past few years, but none had fazed him until the assassination attempt on Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords in Arizona. Though most of his previous threats had been from "left-wing nut jobs", his suddenly announced opposition to hydrofracking in his home state had led to threats from people who, he was quite certain, were much more heavily armed. "I should have known better than to stand up to the fossil fuel industry," he said weakly, and Bishis just nodded because he had been saying this repeatedly for two days. "But what was I to do? They blew up my parents' vacation home on Lake Kuffanoobee!" She nodded again. "If not regulating them means they're going around blowing up people's vacation homes, then we need to regulate them!" ("And poisoning water supplies," Bishis added, though this struck Herrmark as going too far--even though it was actually the water table which had been contaminated with gas and caught on fire under his parents' vacation home.) "Have you found a bodyguard for me yet?" ("Yes," Bishis said, "they're on their way.") She had hired her twin cousins, Nick and Costas, the problematic thugs of the family whom her aunt was only too happy to ship out of Greece (where they could not find work "because of the economy").

A few miles away, the first meeting of the Hunter-Gatherer Society was underway, chaired by Glenn Michael Beckmann. (The turnout was bigger than expected, and they were fortunate to have a member who opened up his house for the meeting.) First order of business: formally creating the Hunter-Gatherer Society. This engendered a spirited debate about whether they should actually be called the "Hunter-Gatherer Nation" since they envisioned spreading the group across the country, but Beckmann won out with his argument that they recognized no national boundary or authority, and no national law or constitution. Thus, the 48 people present voted unaminously on the formal statement: "We are the Hunter-Gatherer Society. We have existed from the beginning and will exist to the end. Nobody can stop our right to hunt and gather." Second order of business: pass a resolution praising Jared Loughner for striking back at "THEM". (This included no "whereas" statements or anything remotely explaining who "THEM" was.) Television reporter Holly Gonightly (undercover in a dark wig and glasses) voted "yea", along with the others, after no debate was raised. Third order of business: passing a resolution declaring Sarah Palin the president of the Hunter-Gatherer Society. After Beckmann played an interestingly edited clip of Palin videos, the group concluded that she had accepted the nomination for this position, and so it was another unanimous vote. Gonightly committed everything to memory so as to arouse no suspicions by taking notes or photos--she was onto something big! (She felt like Jon Voight in "The Odessa File"...mixed with Erin Brockavich.)

Deep in the river, Ardua of the Potomac jolted awake after having a nightmare...again. She never used to sleep like this, let alone be vulnerable to nightmares. This time the dream was about The Prophecy, whose rumors had been troubling her greatly. Until her minions got her more information on The Prophecy, she had to face her pregnancy in ignorance and fear--two feelings that filled her with fury.

Still to come: Congressman Issa attacks the Federal Reserve Board to save the world!