LJ Idol Week 8 - sprezzatura

Alia stood at the back of the cabinet chamber, the velvet of her jacket rubbing against the polished wood paneling. It wasn’t often that she was asked to cover cabinet meetings and the ceremony of it all was still exciting. The Department of Environmental Restoration didn’t have many agenda items these days. At least it hadn’t had many of them in 2118. But it seemed likely that more projects were going to be financed next year, so they were keeping a close watch on the items they did take.

The cabinet chambers were part of the old capital complex, now located completely underground. From what Alia read in history, they had been slated for a complete redesign and reconstruction just before the events now referred to as the Breakdown. After the Breakdown, to conserve resources and because they were well positioned to weather the weather events that followed, they were updated and eventually refurbished as the new normal set in.

The thing about the new normal was that much of the style reached way back to simpler times for inspiration. Even before the Breakdown, the highest government offices tended to look back at imagined zeniths of democracy for inspiration. After the Breakdown displaced classical columns and domes littered the landscapes of capital cities. Florida was mostly spared the onslaught on the architecture, because its capital building was exceptionally utilitarian on the outside. Plus, Tallahassee had been spared any direct military strikes, unlike the rest of the state, which due to a combination of new weather and strikes, contained less than half the landmass it had contained 100 years prior.

The mini-drones buzzing around the chambers suddenly went silent and arranged themselves into the preset patterns allowed by the sunshine network. Alia felt her wrist pulse, her watch’s way of letting her know that now, outside networks were muted. Only devices authorized and hooked into the building’s network could broadcast in or out, now. The cabinet was about to start session.

Governor Olivera-Bush was the first to stride out and take his seat behind the dais. For the last fifty years or so, sitting elected officials had readopted the fashion of wearing wigs and short robes or long jackets and stockings. It was a hearkening back to the fashion of the early days of American Democracy, but with a decidedly European bent, since the old countries had been so instrumental in the years immediately following the Breakdown. The Governor was known as a trendsetter, and though wigs had been trending from grey and white to darker shades, it appeared that for a second time, he had styled his own long brown hair into the curls at the side and tails at the back that were expected. The tabloids would be abuzz. Alia admired the way he managed to keep even those uninterested in politics talking about him. He was a handsome young man, and clearly secure and willing to make even changes that stirred things up a bit, whether they were substantive changes or frivolous ones.

The agenda went smoothly, as Alia had been led to expect. One of Restoration’s items was decided in a way that left clear winners and losers, and Alia was pressed into service to explain the Cabinet’s reasoning to some of the losers after session broke up. By the time that finished, it was late enough that there was no need for her to return to her office. She started to wind her way out of the capital complex and toward the landing pads from which she hoped to find a ride partway home.

Although it was early evening, drones still buzzed throughout the complex. Alia was wrapped in her own thoughts, straying toward fashion and being glad she’d managed to style her own updated dark brown wig, which she’d had compliments on. She didn’t have a drone of her own, brought from her office, since she hadn’t been presenting anything today, but she still noticed as she turned down one of the paneled wood hallways, and the last drone nearby disappeared into a socket in the ceiling. Then her wrist pulsed loss of signal to her, and as a frisson of fear climbed her spine, one of the panels about six feet in front of her opened, and out stepped the governor and two of his retainers, one of whom Alia recogzed as his lead cabinet aide. He looked right at her.

“Good evening Alia Books, good to see you and the rest of the Restoration team this afternoon,” he began, striding toward her. This close, she was surprised by his height and completely taken aback, but as adrenaline began dumping into her bloodstream she closed the rest of the gap remaining between them and took his outstretched hand.

“This is an unexpected honor, sir. I’m glad we were able to bring you a robust agenda today.” She had no idea why she was being singled out. She hadn’t even been part of the legal team for any of her agency’s more important items. Her mind raced. His handshake was firm and his smile seemed genuine.

“Well, a few of your items were interesting, but you never know what angle opportunity may knock from,” he said, and he briefly clasped her hand in both of his. “Keep up the good work, both from the office and everywhere,” he said. And then he winked at her, and he and his two smiling retianers swept on down the hall.

She started walking again, numbly now. He had pressed a datadot into her right hand when he shook it. As she heard the humming of drones pick up again, she kept that right hand gently closed on the dot. Adrenaline still flooded her system, but she couldn’t wait to get home and read.

————————————————-

Whew! Another week just under the wire. I hope everyone enjoys this bit of fic for which I have a more world created than plot, but it’s a place I’d like to revisit with more characters and characterization at some point.