Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Of Deflections and Reflections

A loud screech of brakes on an otherwise quiet afternoon heralded the arrival of Matilda Hatt at the Manor. I peered out the conservatory window, and shuddered as I saw her rented Camry, the model with stoppage problems, just centimeters behind my Bentley. The door banged, and soon Tilly flounced in, trailed by an upset Irving, slowly replacing his Glock into his side holster. Well, you never know.

Tilly was wearing a clingy cashmere dress -- Armani, I thought -- and looked stunning.

I invited her to sit down, and complimented her on her outfit, adding "Bit unusual for you, isn't it?" (Tilly usually dresses as a poster child for punk rock groups.)

"I'm meeting someone tonight. Contacts in North Korea. We're trying to get a handle on the latest 'Dear Leader' known as Kim Jong Un. This person --"

"Is going to fall into a honey trap."

"Duty calls, my dear. And he's rather good-looking."

"Always helps the scenario along."

Irving was standing in the conservatory entrance, taking this all in, but then left after hearing a voice calling him.

"Who's that calling?" asked Tilly.

"Uh, that would be Rachel, his new found friend."

"Really! Hadn't realized that your minder has a little social life. Good to know. Now to business, but first, is your Grey Goose stock, ah yes, still on the sideboard. Want one?"

I acquiesced. "Over ice."

Tilly nodded, made the drinks, then curled up on the sofa and got down to what was concerning her. It was, of course, the whole business of the WRAITH software recently obtained by yours truly courtesy of Rachel and Irving, although Tilly was unaware of the source.

"First,Simone," she began, "you owe me big time. I managed to deflect the interest of the Powers That Be from wondering how those Predator drones went so badly astray, and got them focussed on something called Stuxnet, and now everyone is fussing about in Belarus, examining the Siemens Corporation, de-constructing servers in Denmark and Malaysia, and, no surprise here, appealing to Microsoft for help. So you are off the hook. And for all this help, I only ask one little thing."

What Tilly wanted was access from time to time to WRAITH.

"I'll talk to Rachel --"

"Hah!" exclaimed Tilly. "I thought as much. The woman appears, the software also appears, and--

"And I'll talk to Rachel," I continued. "She would have to be dead certain that any use could not be traced back to here."

"Lifted it, did she? But your condition is not unreasonable. Like to meet this woman. It's always exciting to discuss something with a person who's committed high treason. I wouldn't," she added, "need access very often. Just when I have to enter a red zone. It would be rather neat to quietly deflect the ungodly away from what might be at issue. And I will have another Grey Goose. If only to stop thinking about the current mess."

"What mess?"

This led to a long diatribe on the current political scene, a Congress deadlocked, an indecisive president, the growth of the Tea Party, a witch running for the Senate, and topping it all, Sarah Palin. I tried to explain the impasse in historical terms, mentioning that when the American Founders first borrowed the separation of powers doctrine from Montesquieu, they couldn't conceive of an age where allegiance to a party could be put before allegiance to country.

"Be that as it may," said Tilly, "it's sad. Although....there's always...Hillary. Let's say that Obama has had enough, and wants to fend for Michelle and the kids rather than fend for the country. So he doesn't run in 2012. Then Sarah P. gets the Republican nomination, and Hillary wins for the Democrats. What a cat fight that would be!"

"That's the Grey Goose talking."

"Yeah, I guess. And I've whined a bit, haven't I? Departed a bit from your little credo. One. Don't whine. Two. Make the world a better place. Three. Get as much happiness as possible. Did I get them right?"

"Missed one."

"What?"

"When travelling in the southern U.S., never, ever, crush the mint in a julep."

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