Thursday, October 14, 2004
In The Registrar's Office, Hermectoral College
Hermes puts his feet up on his desk, careful not to bend the wings on his heels. Just then the phone rings. He makes a rueful face, drops his feet to the floor, picks up.
"Yes?"
"I got this number from the guy at Hermes Repairs. Said you were moonlighting."
"I'm the owner. And you are?"
"Never mind who I am. Top-level clearance. We had another--incident."
"Oh, of course, Mr. Vi--er, sir. Sorry I didn't recognize your voice there for a moment. What happened?"
"I'd rather not discuss it over the phone. But turn on the radio. Pick up a paper. Read about what happened to the Secretary of Defense. The thing's gone haywire again."
"I'll be right over."
Both men hang up. Hermes sighs, tells his secretary he'll be out the rest of the afternoon. Clearly, he thinks, the Bush-head Jerks-on-a-Rope are not working; the Rove doll still is, probably in the hands of some extremely powerful Loa.
He sighs again as he reaches the street and zooms off. If I can't get my hands on the Rove doll, he thinks, I don't deserve to be head god.
