Consensus Building

Chapter 1 - Positioning

The car noiselessly navigated itself along the pristine four lane road; a three-mile grey spear, splitting the vibrant green and yellow countryside of early summer. Automated farming machinery worked with serene precision. Their roof mounted solar panels ensured their ceaseless labour. In the blue sky, tiny black specks moved across the horizon. Drones. Max knew that they weren’t simply maintaining a vigilant patrol, in fear that their fellow automatons were, if unmonitored, likely to slack off. No, the twelve-foot-high fences surrounding each and every field were a testament to their true intentions.

‘Two miles, not a single pothole,’ Max said absently as he looked out the tinted windows. ‘Who knew it was possible?’

‘Wait until the heavy trucks start rolling,’ Jane replied. ‘Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. After that, if we want to do a return visit we’ll have to drive here in dune buggies.’

Max turned his attention to his twenty-three-year-old assistant. She patiently watched him through the horn-rimmed spectacles she wore despite her perfect vision. Max knew they were part of a well-crafted image, along with her tightly pulled back blonde hair and grey utilitarian business suit. No embellishments, no jewellery, no make-up. Max understood Jane’s inclination to undermine her beauty and youth in favour of an air of efficient competence and professionalism. The lesson had been learned the hard way. For Max, Jane was a fellow traveller, and if he couldn’t appreciate a good disguise, then who could? After all, hadn’t he been wearing a disguise for countless years. Feigning friendship and allegiance to climb the party’s steps ever higher?

‘We’ve prepared as much as we can,’ Jane said.

‘I’m fine,’ Max said with a sigh. ‘I just wish Horatio had checked in.’

Max considered Horatio’s final text message from just over a week ago, “Good news, I’m on the inside now”. It sounded promising, but vague. It was just like Horatio to be so miserly with communication. A truer believer in the adage that brevity is the soul of wit, you would be unlikely to find.

‘Remember our key points,’ Jane said. ‘our party has an obscene majority; the opposition are in shambles; the PM is opening the door to yet another sizeable increase in unemployment; tax rates are only going one way; you’re a popular member of the cabinet and have a handful of influential allies’.

‘Ah yes, we essentially use this country’s slow slide into fascism to our advantage,’ Max said with a smile.

Jane bristled, ‘As an advisor; I advise. It’s my raison d’etre. I won’t apologise for that. Preparation, preparation…’

‘I prefer “Spad”,’ Max interrupted, ‘as in “due to his complete ignorance of his job and the world around him, he found himself on the end of a comprehensive and chastening Spadding”’

Jane suppressed a smile and duly rolled her eyes.

‘Aren’t you nervous?’

Max considered the question at length. Eventually he said

‘Sometimes, at least for me, the only reasonable option is to pretend to be calm, confident and collected.’

‘You mean, fake it till you make it?’ said Jane with a smile.

Suddenly the car moved across all four lanes, while decreasing speed. There were people and vehicles haphazardly all over the road. At first Max wondered who would celebrate the opening of a warehouse. Max bolted upright, noticing something was wrong.

‘They’re wearing balaclavas,’ Jane said. Panic crept into her voice.

People dressed in black were slowly positioning cars, vans, tractors and trailers across the width of the road. Without instruction, the car’s government security protocols kicked in, as it accelerated with an explosive kick it wove past people and vehicles, its lights flashed and a siren blared. Projectiles rattled against the reinforced bodywork, leaving dirty smears in their wake. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the car straightened out. The lights switched off and the siren stopped. Through the rear window, the roadblock dwindled into the distance. Max and Jane looked at each other wordlessly. After a long minute Jane opened her mouth, before she could speak three large flashing police drones screamed by overhead, speeding towards the people dressed in black. Silence once again returned.

‘What will happen?’ Jane asked.

‘You know what will happen.’

‘I don’t think they were armed. I mean, whatever they threw at us, it wasn’t…’ Jane paused looking at the windows ‘I think it was horse dung. Harmless really.’

‘There’s nothing we can do. We need to focus on the task at hand’ Max said, straightening his suit jacket. ‘Look,’ he said, motioning towards something in the distance.

And there it was, the cause of this perverse celebration. On the horizon was a white warehouse. Viewed at this distance it looked entirely ordinary; a nondescript white rectangle. No architectural flourishes, no discernible beauty. In almost every aspect it was a study in functional, utilitarian minimalism. Every aspect except its size. As they neared, its size became ever more impressive. Max slowly but surely began to feel a reluctant grandeur at the 5 million square foot behemoth as the car came to a stop in its shadow. The low morning sun was blocked from view.

As they exited the car Max let out a shaky breath as he scanned the festivities. Immaculate, branded trucks with trailers were positioned to create a walkway that was presently funnelling at least a hundred people towards the entrance of the warehouse. At the doors was a balloon arch, which in any other setting might have been impressive. But against the imperious bulk of the warehouse, they looked no more significant than grains of sand at the bottom of a cliff and the people milling around outside, no more than ants. Dozens of security personnel stood sentry, dressed in Hi-Viz yellow vests and jackets. At length, Jane opened her mouth slightly; several seconds passed before she finally said.

‘History awaits.’

Max took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. His hand shook ever-so-slightly as he pushed his black hair out of his eyes. His tall, lean frame moved wordlessly away from the car, eventually disappearing into the crowd of people.