Just the Man for the Job

Since my earliest childhood I've been, should I say – different. Back in the kindergarden I was spending hours and hours holding newspapers upside down, waiting for letters to drop out from the headlines.

Much later after years and years of boring studying I was ready to finally ( only God knows how ) get a chance to take the final exam – THE TEST.

Exactly on my twenty - fifth birthday ( meaning tomorrow ), and after a few hours of 'brainstorming' I could become planetary financial sector chief or chief of staff in the first restaurant round the corner. And my mental ability would be estimated by a bunch of silicon.

Tomorrow.....

One beam of sunlight somehow came into my dark room, and then just cunningly following basic physical rules, ricochetted off the whiskey bottle and finally found my eye . That nasty move interrupted my deepest thoughts. In two, maybe three very well measured swallows I finished that whiskey so I would not be disturbed any more.

Well, tomorrow....

***

Here I am, sitting behind my terminal. A great deal of my head is possessed by dark thoughts and they are becoming even darker. With slightly vibrating fingers I am hitting the keyboard.

I managed to put in my personal data in the third try. Everything seems so weird and confusing. My mental abilities, in case somebody wants to know, are in chains somewhere in dark caves ( neither is whiskey what it used to be ).

If I could oversleep this day in some dark cave, too, I would be much happier. Well, the only problem is that nobody gives a damn about what I think.

And so, this is it, in just a small amount of time this computer mutant will define my destiny. MY DESTINY. Where have good old times gone, times of empty talking and bullshiting, times when those skills were far and away the strongest ones on this godforsaken wasteland planet and the main basic for every important social function? Although I have never too much expressed suicidal tendecies, something has broken up inside me. That's it! That's it! I'll fake out the C.C. ( Central Computer ), destroy myself completely and put my destiny ad acta.

With great care I finished THE TEST, and I was closely watching not to put down any correct or 'meaning something' answers. Suddenly I find myself in great curiousity about my newborn future. What will happen? Where will I be removed? Maybe, they'll put me in some lollypop factory, pardon, Mental Corrector. There, I'll be a wall clock guardian. Good one, of course. Excellent. That'll be just great. Few seasons of solid meditation in absolute silence. Well, after all the years of studying I could afford a nice little vacation. Yes.

But, as usual, things are leaving logic at the first crossroads and going their own way.

I am stupidly looking at the display, and it is looking back at me.

YOU ACHIEVED 13TH LEVEL RESULT.

AS SOON AS POSSIBLE GO TO CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY.

Bloody computer and it's levels. 13th. Wonderful. Can't it tell me right away what I am ? What am I? Some very special nutcase? And what's that service 'CIA'? Wait a minute? Was there a few centuries ago a secret service with the same name?

As I was running to the Agency, the waves of madness were exchanging with the waves of confusion.

At the Intelligence agency I was intelligently told to go to the Secret Informations Service. There, they arranged me a meeting with the confidental information minister first thing tomorrow morning. After all this I was confused and I tried to enter the apartment one floor below mine.

Somehow I managed to find my own apartment and the tub which I filled with hot water. One nicely executed jump later and I was in it. I let a few drops of bourbon slip down my throat

( I have never been picky ) and began to think. As usual, not a single bright idea visited me. Finally I decided to oversleep in the tub and refresh my thoughts.

Although I don't have a habit of sleeping at such places, this was one of those situations when you know exactly what you are doing, but sincerely, you don't give a damn.

***

Morning is brighter than evening.

Well, this saying makes no difference to me. My head was still heavy and sight blurred ( bad bourbon or what? ). And....to make a short story even shorter, soon enough I found myself facing the UPS ( United Planet States ) building. One of the benefits of a centralistic system is that everything of any importance is in the capital city. Normally, it is a benefit only if you are in the capital city as well. Though, for the first time I was glad that this architecture monster was so close to my building that I practically had no other view from my balcony.

Unbreakable glass at the doorway reminded me how I looked

Can't be helped! And then strange things happened. Security was very kind to me. Scary! As if I was the one they were waiting for. Strange. Scary strange. Thanks to superfast elevators I was in the confidental minister waiting room in no time. Faking great interest in my middle shirt button I was deeply in thoughts. Meanwhile a fine group of sweat beads gathered on the top of my eyebrows. What was I thinking about? I don't know. Thoughts were just coming in and going away. Not a single one left inside.

"The minister has got a message for you." Nice voice from nice looking minister secretary interrupted my philosophical observations. There was a message to send me straight to the planet commander himself. You can't beat this! Finally, I could get some answers. I wished I had known what the questions were? Fifty floors up and I was there. With those elevators it would take minus three seconds, but I decided to work out a little bit, simultaneously entertaining myself with my favorite activity – thinking. Wait a second! The secretary knew who I was at the very moment she saw me. No documents asked or anything like that. It was as if everyone except me knew who I was, and the only thing that I was certain of was that I certainly did not need this. Why couldn't I be in a nice mental hospital where nobody would care whether I was seriously mad or just dropping in and stayed there because I liked it.

Almost without noticing it, here I was, on the top floor, not much smarter though, but richer for footpains.

***

In the waiting room I spent not more than a few minutes. But, that was enough time for panic to run riot. What kind of bizarre future was there ahead of me?

Entering a luxurious office, I spotted a small old man sitting in the chair with his legs crossed on the top of the table. His eyes were focusing the top of his shoes.

He looked like a busted stockbroker rather than the planet leader.

"Hm, Hmmm..." I said.

"Oh, excuse me, sit down, please," the old man came alive suddenly as if he saw an old friend after some time.

"They have just informed me about your arrival. I am sure that you want to know who's responsible for all this." His majestic baritone was filling the room. "That's what you wanna know. Am I right or what?"

I usually do not answer rethorical questions, so I followed this nice tradition.

"You must have heard of a great scientist named Bert Nienstein, create of the Central Computer System a.k.a the CCS?"

"Maybe...." Caution is always a good friend.

"Hmm, yes...." with an ironic smile grandpa began the story. "Probably the best minds were involved in one of the greatest achievements of modern human history creation of the CCS. But only old Bert knew it from the bottom to the top. He built in the memory one very well masked 'bug.' And this 'bug' has passed every possible exam with flying colors. It's funny that nobody ever experimented with all wrong answers. Except few of us, of course. That's why we are ruling this world, in the first place." He put the broadest possible smile on his face.

"The most brilliant practical joke of all times."

Silence. One of those which lasts.

At first I was looking kind of pale, then I had kind of a pale face, which is almost a regular introduction for loss of the consciousness.

When I became more myself, the familiar smile was already there.

"YOU ARE NEW PLANET COMMANDER!"

The old man's voice occupied every single part of my gray gelatin which someone with fine sense of humour might call a brain.

After a few strong drinks I finally stopped losing consciousness.

"But....Einstein. Wrong answers. Who? Whom? What? Why?...." I was talking like someone who has lent out his brain centre for speech and has forgotten to ask it back.

"I always thought that a leader should be a man of 'highest qualities.' I am supprised that no one has been suspicious yet!" To my great suprise, suddenly I have spoken in a pretty witty manner.

The smile obviously did not intend to leave his face.

"Allow me to paraphrase a well-known saying: 'If you are mad and at the same time a man of no importance, you are still mad, but, if you are mad and at the same time a world leader, then you are an eccentric genius.' Everything depends on the way you are looking at things. Any of your crazy, illogical and impossible decisions will be accepted because of your extraordinary intelligence. Everyone will give their best to make your decision come to life. If they don't succeed, with trembling voices they'll try to say something about your brilliant mind so far ahead of present time..etc. Maybe the best example is the 'best qualities' man before me.

He told me when he was leaving, how he wanted to destroy himself completely by solving the TEST all wrong. He thought, better he destroys himself than the system.

"Well, an interesting way of self-destruction, isn't it?" he added. "But you are familiar with that. That's why you are here now."

I answered him with the most stupid smile I had in my archive.

"Yeah., yeah," wise grandpa went on, "In his time the Earth went through maybe the greatest achievements in the last three hundred years."

I was already completely absorbed with the absurdity of the situation, and my speech abilities were almost back. "In my childhood I was listening to some legends about a chosen man with extraordinary capabilities. I have even heard the myth that he wasn't a human being after all but a good alien who has come down like a human being to help our civilisation. It has never crossed my mind that he was a complete nutcracker."

"There, you see," said the grayheaded man in a friendly tone. "Don't be afraid of anything. Enjoy your power and come up every now and then with some senseless decisions. In any case, have fun till the new 'chosen one' comes up. And by then many of your hairs will turn gray. Just look at me."

"And now, the end is near," the old man started singing this antic song, obviously in a very good mood.

"I am now leaving you and going to a peaceful little house on the sea shore to live out what is left of my life. The secretary will introduce you to everything you need to know, and in a few days time there will be your official inaguaration as a new leader. We, in fact, are chosen ones."

One recognisible smile for the end and the old man disappeared behind a heavy black leathered door.

I was about to ask him how he came up with the ideas familiar to all commanders chosen by CCS. Never mind.

I sat behind the desk, crossed my legs on top of it and started focusing on the top of my shoes.

Bio:Drazen was born December 23, 1970 in Split, Croatia.

E-mail: drazen.saskor@st.tel.hr

URL: http://members.xoom.com/drsosich/

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