"Rajnar Vajra - Standing Firm on the Pipette Line" - читать интересную книгу автора (Vajra Rajnar)

out in the open, standing on New City Hall's concrete steps, the smell of
rotting garbage kept adding insult to insult.
"Why are the Minuscules striking, Mr. Mayor?"
"As I already stated, we're looking into that."
"Why is this only happening in Boston, Mr. Mayor? Why not New York or
Seattle?"
"We haven't yet come to a definite conclusion on that subject."
"Is your _ship_ sinking, sir? Maybe this is more a desertion than a
strike." The witticism drew a good laugh, but not from me.
"Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! What are you planning on doing about...?"




Page 1
 My press secretary, Dr. Lisa Stockton, knew I'd had enough and smoothly
pulled me out of the line of fire to take my place. Lisa is wonderful. She
knows exactly when and how to be a squid. I stared up at the attractive back
of her head wondering what color ink she was going to squirt out _this_
time...
"Thank you for your solicitude, ladies and gentlemen," she announced in
her crispest professional voice. "But now Mayor Gould needs to return to work
so that he can continue the fine job he's doing of managing this unique
crisis."
If she noticed the sound of a thousand simultaneous grumbles, she
didn't show it. "I believe our Mayor has already addressed most of your
concerns. We will certainly have more to tell you later but I'm sure we all
agree that the time has come for deeds, not words."
I couldn't detect any signs of such agreement, but I nodded and smiled
as if every soul who caught my eye was the one exception to a universal rule.
Then it took my entire security staff, fifteen burly weight lifters, to
get me through the crowd that rushed the steps, lenses and hand-held mikes
held out like thrusting swords, and the whole time I kept thinking, _deeds_?
What in hell am I supposed to _do_? For three weeks now I'd been waiting by
the red telephone -- the so-called "Pipette Line" -- bracing myself for some
tough negotiations. But how do you negotiate with striking workers who never
bother presenting any demands?
I was nearly within smudging distance of the door to New City Hall when
an unfamiliar reporter snatched me from a fog of worry by somehow reaching
past my guardians and grabbing my sleeve. He was shouldered back by at least
three security people.
Let's get one thing straight: you can't believe everything you may have
read or heard about me; the media loves caricature far more than character.
And yes, I know about those jokes that keep percolating throughout New
England: What's the fastest way to commit suicide? Answer: stand between Tully
Gould and political office. What's the tallest mountain in Massachusetts?
Answer: Mayor Gould's ego.
Terribly amusing and perhaps there's even a few quarks of truth hiding
in there somewhere. But while I'm no Saint Francis, my first reaction when the
reporter went down hard was honest concern for the man's safety and worry that