Inspector O and the Washington Swamp Gas Machine
The bench at the Fontana dell’Acqua Paola overlooking Rome on a pleasant day might have been more enjoyable if Inspector O hadn’t been brooding.
“Cheer up, for heaven’s sake, Inspector.” I offered him a potato chip. “Once we’re done here, you can roam around the city, soak up its delights.”
“I’m busy, Church, not like you. I have boxes to check, things to do, goals to score.”
“Well, get to it, then. You told me to be here. I’m here. And I’m not going to let you spoil the day.”
He sighed. “You have no concept of life’s purpose, you just dance without thinking of what awaits you.”
“What awaits me is a good lunch, a stroll down the Via del Corso…”
“You and your strolls, Church, are the problem. Have you watched your reptile news recently?”
“I have. I saw nothing to destroy my cheery demeanor and hope for humanity.”
O stared at me. “OK, look at this.”
It was a transcript of what at first glance looked to be a Politburo meeting in Pyongyang. I shrugged to give myself time to think. “Yes, well, it is good to be the king,” I said.
“No, I know what you’re thinking, Church. This isn’t a Politburo meeting in Pyongyang.”
I searched his face. I must have paled. “No,” I said, “couldn’t be.”
“Yes, it could be, and it was. We are shamefaced to have fallen behind. We did a practice run trying to exceed it. We couldn’t. Do you people have a swamp gas machine? We noticed that your Treasury Secretary was reading from a piece of paper. Do you ask AI to make you as nauseous as possible?”
“Now, wait a minute, Inspector.”
“No, you wait a minute. We did have a Politburo meeting, and they did try to best your Cabinet. We did some role playing. I think it was our Secretary for Propaganda who wanted to play your Commerce Secretary. When he finished reading his lines, the room was silent, then people fell out of their chairs laughing. The chairman needed help getting up.”
“He wasn’t angry?”
“Are you kidding, he said he hadn’t enjoyed anything that much since…well…never mind what he said.”
“So why are you in such a funk?”
“Because I’ve been told to get the specifications for the swamp gas machine you obviously have in DC. Our arch is already taller than the one you’re planning to build but superlatives? We can’t even come close.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Be that as it may, Church, be that as it may. We see a superlative gap, and we need to fill it quickly or there will be hell to pay.” He looked at his watch. “Oh lord have mercy. I’m late for my meeting with the Pope.”
“You are meeting the Pope?”
He was up and running. “In a manner of speaking, strictly on the QP.”
“QT,” I shouted, but he was already in a taxi heading down the hill.