For All Time 179: A New Hope
Canberra, The People's Republic of Australasia
25 February 2002
Prime Minister Charles Orenthal Yeo watched the buttocks of the intern lift under the tight material of her skirt as she walked out of his chamber. Magnificent arse, he thought. But no. Duty waits for no man. Right then. First on the agenda, the interview with the new Minister for Revenue, wossisname. Good man, maybe too good -- fond of a hymn now and then, according to the Public Safety report. Makes the downfall more interesting, if necessary.
Next, the politicals. Sigh. What can one do with them, really. Yeo mentally reviewed his index files, from Askew to Zimmermann. H'm, this Jones, yes. An utter nondescript, found blathering in a pub about Asiatics. But the crowd will have blood, Yeo reflected. If there was one thing Rupert had taught him, it was that.
Then a long teleconference over luncheon, with the other Reconstruction officials. This was the highlight of the working day, as far as Yeo was concerned. To talk with the most brilliant minds remaining on this poor, battered globe, about what should be done -- what _must_ be done -- to reform it. And then to do it. He stroked his Van Dyke beard, considering.
[FONT="]Yes, the world will be a better place after I remake it, Yeo thought. In mine own image. Yes. He pressed the intercom buzzer. "Hullo, Marie, I believe I do require someone to take dictation after all. Send the intern back in? Thanks, love."[/FONT]
