Like all men, however, he was cursed with his own particular weaknesses. That crack about the money, for instance. That wasn’t just for Jed’s benefit, reminding him of how much credit he’d poured into the lawyer’s ‘discretionary account’ – his black-bag fund, for want of a gentler euphemism. No, it also let everyone within hearing distance know that Henry Cesky was no fucking chump. Henry Cesky had somehow managed to salvage a good deal of his personal fortune and what was left of his business, and Henry-fucking-Cesky was still a fucking player. Especially by the much-reduced standards of the American body politic, as they were now being played out in the surviving seat of power, the Pacific Northwest.
The Brooklyn construction king slipped one of his heavy arms around Culver’s shoulder. With Cesky’s shirt sleeves rolled up, Jed could feel the thick mat of gorilla fur on the man’s forearms tickling the back of his neck. He ignored it. Getting inside your personal space was a favoured ploy of Cesky’s, and as the lawyer had about four inches and a good number of pounds on him, he let it slide.
‘What I wanted to talk to you about was them fucking army engineers,’ said Cesky ‘They’re doing a lot of work for the city at the moment and I can’t help thinking that it could be done a lot fucking quicker and cheaper by the private sector, you know. By people who don’t need to cross every fucking “i” and dot every fucking “t”, if you know what I mean.’
Jed didn’t correct him. He knew what the construction magnate meant. T hear you, Henry,’ he bellowed back. ‘I’m a hundred per cent behind you on that. But for now, at least, the army’s a law unto themselves here. You’ve seen that. They’re still running this place, really’
And he had to wonder at that, given what he’d been hearing about relations between the city and Fort Lewis over the last month.
Cesky took his arm away. He’d had to reach up some, and it couldn’t have been comfortable for him. ‘Well, they need to get back in their fucking box,’ he said. ‘Or someone needs to put them there. I heard about what they did with the council guys. Coming the fucking heavy like that. No fucking wonder they got the contracts locked up for this joint, eh?’
Culver would have shaken his head in amazement. Another Henry Cesky weakness was a complete inability to see the world in terms other than his own. He honestly regarded the army as little more than a rival firm, undercutting him on his bids for city work. In their position, it’s what Cesky himself would have done; so, obviously, that’s what they’d been doing when they ‘sequestered’ the local councillors during the worst of the immediate crisis following the Disappearance. They were simply looking to do Cesky out of a buck. Un-fucking-believable.
Jed held up both palms. ‘No argument from me, Henry. I can see why they moved the way they did at first. It was probably the only way to keep things together here. But we’re past that now, aren’t we?’
Cesky nodded sagely. Or in a manner that he obviously thought of as sagely, if he even knew what the word meant. ‘Fucking lotta work to be done here, Culver,’ he went on as they threaded their way through the heaving crush and heat of the crowd. ‘Not just spade work neither. There’s a lot of rebuilding up here, too,’ he added, tapping the side of his head with two thick fingers.
Culver nodded, a little surprised at his insight. That’s why this week is important,’ he replied. ‘It’s why we need guys like you on side, Henry. Things are at tipping point, if you ask me. Could go either way. We could fuck this up, end up with Fort Lewis running everything and doing guys like you out of a job, or we could make a whole new start. And all this bullshit about giving the army seats in any government – that would be fucking things up, don’t you think? That’s third-world stuff.’
Cesky nodded vigorously. He grabbed a bottle of Molson Old Style Pilsener off a tray as it wobbled past at eye level. Whether he bought Jed’s argument as a point of high principle, or whether he saw his main chance being cruelled by his major competitors getting their camouflaged butts into Congress, was a moot point. From Jed Culver’s point of view, Henry Cesky was an ally because, like everyone else in this room, he was firmly in the ‘No’ camp when it came to the question of rewriting the Constitution.
‘I dunno what these assholes are so frightened of,’ declared Cesky. ‘I don’t see anywhere dealing with the fucking Wave as good as us, and we got hammered flat by the fucker. Look at them French assholes, killing each other in the street. Fucking China, falling apart like a cheap fucking toy. And England, it’s a fucking prison camp. None of that happened here, and never will, unless we let it.’
Jed could have argued with him about some of the prison-camp aspects of post-Disappearance Seattle, but he let it go. ‘Good man,’ he said, as he slapped Cesky hard on the back. ‘That’s the spirit. Question is, though, what are we going to do about it? What are
‘Hey, I’m doing my bit. I’m here, aren’t I!’
‘Yeah, but it’s going to take more than standing around flapping our gums, Henry,’ replied Culver, steering the smaller man into a makeshift alcove formed by a couple of couches. He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Might come a time soon when we have to act… How would you feel about that?’
‘What do you mean, “act”? You mean, break some fucking heads? If that’s what it takes, Culver, that’s what it takes.’
‘Oh, I’m sure it won’t come to that,’ said Jed, moving them off again, towards a door connecting two of the hotel suites. ‘There’s no point butting heads with the army. You’ll lose. But it’s good to know, Henry, that if push comes to shove in some other way, we have you and your organisation behind us.’
Cesky stood a little taller and nodded emphatically. ‘Six hundred guys I got on my payroll, Culver. Six hundred families I’m keeping fed and housed and warm at night. I’m fucking proud o’ that, you know. It’s not just about the money or my own family. It’s what I can do for others. You need me to get out the vote – it’s out. You need boots on the street – you got ‘em. They’re my people. They know who looks after them, and they know who’s been trying to take food from their fucking tables, too.’
Cesky frowned and waved his beer at a TV in the next suite. Through a shifting mass of bodies, Culver could just make out somebody on the screen, wearing an army uniform.
‘Mr Culver, Mr Culver.’
He gratefully embraced the distraction. Looking for an excuse to break free of Cesky, Jed craned his head around, searching for whoever was calling his name. Unfortunately, the builder saw the guy first.
‘Over there. Faggy-looking mope.’
Culver saw him straight away then. Aaron Metz from Microsoft. He was attempting to cut a path through the tidal flow of the crowd, and not doing so well. Jed could see he was holding something aloft in one hand.
