• • • •
CHENG’S SECRETARY BLINKED its long lashes disdainfully. “I already told you, Third Cousin.”
“Thrice, I believe.” Kenuda pressed his thick hands on its desk. “This emergency situation falls fully under my area and I insist on being present at any and all meetings. Now where is he?”
The A12 was not intimidated, poking at its computer with two stiff fingers.
“Listen, you impudent little stove…”
The secretary gasped. “That prejudice will be reported.”
“I encourage it.”
Cheng’s inner door opened and Second Cousins Cria and Daniffam walked out glumly. Kenuda brushed past them as if it were his office.
The First Cousin scowled. “What do you want?”
Kenuda slammed the door on the secretary’s leg. “An explanation, sir.”
“First Cousin, I tried.” The A12 managed to press half its face through the door frame.
“Never mind, leave. Well open the blasted door first, Kenuda.” Cheng snarled and waited, arms folded. “I’m a trifle busy this morning.”
“As I should be.”
“Am I stopping you?”
Elias paused. “Yes, you are, First Cousin. There’ve been several meetings since yesterday…”
“Several.” Cheng laughed coldly. “Try a lot more than several. We’re in a state of emergency, Kenuda. Perhaps you’re aware….”
“I am aware,” Kenuda snapped. “This was my stadium. My game. My sport. “
“You’re no longer Commissioner of Sport and Entertainment.”
Kenuda winced as if Cheng had spit in his face. “Why?”
“Because you fucked up, Kenuda. You took baseball way beyond where it should’ve gone. Instead of slow steps, your damn ego got in the way.”
“Everything was approved,” he said stiffly. “Sir.”
Cheng rose on his tiptoes. “Are you blaming me?”
Kenuda didn’t answer, inflaming Cheng.
“Perhaps you’d like to blame Grandma, too? Perhaps you should blame everyone who trusted your judgment, like the thousands of dead children buried inside that stadium.”
Kenuda suddenly felt buried beneath rubble, too.
Cheng sighed disgustedly. “You’re a Third Cousin and you bear responsibility for your actions. As I bear responsibility for cleaning up your shit and restoring order. And dealing with the damn Allahs, who’ve just mobilized their Atlantic Fleet.”
“We’re at war?”
“We don’t know what we’re at. Half the blasted country thinks that bullshit video played at your Yankee Stadium was real. The country is ripped apart, Kenuda. Because of goddamn baseball again.”
“I can fix everything.” He grew flush with manic possibilities.
Cheng looked at Kenuda as if he just crawled out of a hole in the wall. “Why?”
“Because, because I’m a Third Cousin.”
“No. Because you don’t want to lose your position.”
Kenuda steadied himself. “Am I in danger of being asked to leave The Family?”
“That would be Grandma’s decision. And she thinks you’re shit on a banana. For now, take your wounded feelings and pouting lips and find something useful. Maybe you could assist Cousin Takei with road clearance.”
“Fifth Cousin Takei?”
Elias leaned against a pole in the crowded bus, hoping his leaden weight wouldn’t rip the shambling vehicle in half. Subways were still haphazard, heavily guarded. Cars crept out of the city, slowed by security checks; no one had any idea how many terrorists were still at large. More buses converged onto Moshulu Parkway. Everywhere, movement without movement. Perched by a comatose traffic light, a giant vidscreen blared about Derek Singh and Easy Sun Yen committing suicide in their jail cells.
Before or after they talked, Kenuda thought sourly. What would they have said, his eyes narrowed. The whole damn stadium had been searched by BTs before the game. Under Cheng’s command. Kenuda’s eyes narrowed deeper. Convenient.
An elderly woman rocked unsteadily near the back as two teens embraced a few seats away.
“Get up,” Kenuda commanded the youngsters, who slid, shamed, into the aisle. Elias steered the old woman into the seat. She smiled with weary gratitude. He glowered at the dazed passengers. “We must not lose our values. Do you all understand?”
The passengers looked away, embarrassed.
Kenuda walked the hour back to his office, brushing past his secretary. He dribbled a basketball for a couple minutes, thinking, before shouting for his A12 to come in.
“Yes, sir?” It blinked wide-eyed.
“Is there a special way to send a message about reassignment?”
The robot hesitated. “Yes, sir. May I ask why?”
“Because I’ve been reassigned. Or soon will be.”
His secretary took on a sad sheen.
“Oh stop it,” he snapped. “Prepare a note for me to send. Well go on, I have a life span unlike you.”
The secretary leaned over its computer, waiting. “Let it say, I, Elias Kenuda, happily agrees with the decision of First Cousin Albert Cheng to reassign my duties as Third Cousin. Read it back. Never mind,” he interrupted. “I’m sure it’s fine. Send.”
The secretary hesitated.
“Send.” Kenuda threw a football against the wall. “Who handles restaurants and food places and that sort of thing where people eat?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Wouldn’t that be within your job description to find out?”
The robot typed for a moment. “It was under Fifth Cousin Bitosssanava.”
“Isn’t he dead?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then it’s open. Good. Write, Given the recent tragedy of Fifth Cousin however you spell his name, I am volunteering my extensive experience to handle this area during the national emergency. Why are you not sending that?”
“It’s a Fifth Cousin assignment.”
He startled the secretary by kissing the top of its head. “Yes. And no one will care. Send. And print out a copy of that and the recent Mentoring report. I don’t know what day, I believe I only got one. And will you please stop grinding those damn metal teeth.”
Once on the Fifth Floor, he had difficulties with the persistent A8, who couldn’t grasp the complexities of a Third Cousin taking over the office of a Fifth Cousin, particularly when the Third Cousin said he was still a Third Cousin.
“Your mentor First Cousin Cheng must approve.”
Kenuda pointed out the window, where the smoke continued curling from the smoldering stadium. “We’re all busy.”
The A8 reflected, eyes rolling in different directions over the suicidal frailty of humans. “I will send the notification, but process the efficacy of
