Ron didn’t bother opening the email about the newly hired head secretary. Another email would come in another couple of weeks with another name and face he would promptly forget. A part of him felt bad he had become so callused about this, but he hardly spoke to the head secretary anyway.

John knocked on the door frame of his office. Albert glanced over from the S.E.A. authorized laptop.

“Give me a second,” Ron said. He stood up and turned toward Albert. “I’ve got a meeting to go to. Should be about an hour. Keep working on transcribing those notes, and I’ll be back to check your work.”

Albert nodded as he turned back to the laptop.

Ron and John were in the elevator before John spoke up. “What is your kid doing?”

“Transcribing notes from meetings onto the computer.”

John cocked an eyebrow. “What kind of meetings?”

“Not important ones. President Arnold wants the really old meeting notes transcribed to the computer so we have back up,” Ron said.

John shrugged. “Sounds incredibly boring. That’s all I was going to say.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.”

They walked down the hall and entered the conference room, already buzzing with the Officials and Junior Officials of the S.E.A. In total there were about forty people in the meeting.

“John, Ron, good afternoon,” Mr. McCarthy said. “The agendas will be passed out at the beginning of the meeting.”

Mr. McCarthy left, and John grumbled. “So it’s one of those meetings.”

Annoyance pricked at Ron’s conscience. These secret meetings where they didn’t know what they would talk about until the meeting itself never sat well with him. A bit of his soul shriveled after every one of them. And of course they were never allowed to talk to the general public about what was going on.

The room was large, which made the gathering feel small. Ron and John sat together.

“Where did you leave your intern?” Ron asked.

John grunted. “Sitting in front of the screens for the lower half of the skyscraper hallways. Nothing much happens there. He should be fine.”

“Let’s get this meeting started,” Mr. Germain said.

Ron straightened as Mr. and Mrs. Germain stood up.

“First and foremost, a huge welcome to our new head secretary, who will be taking minutes during our meeting,” Mr. Germain said, pointing toward someone at the front. The man looked a bit older than the average college student. He was thin and had dark hair as he gave a smile and a wave.

“And, of course, George’s birthday was this week,” Mrs. Germain said, pointing to one of the new officials. George gave a chagrin as he waved and music filled the room.

“Happiest of birthdays, on this your special day,

“May the old year remind you of happiness,

“And the new bring more joy on the way.”

George smiled again as the quick birthday song was finished. Ron was getting anxious. This was too much like a regular meeting. He was waiting for the ball to drop.

“There are a few things President Arnold would like us to go over,” Mrs. Germain pulled out a huge stack of overhead projector sheets as Mr. Germain wheeled in an overhead projector. Next to him, John settled in for a nap.

“These are troubling times,” Mrs. Germain began. “Lots of uncertainty and fear among the citizens of Musical Land. There was an influx of scientists and mathematicians who left to join the mad scientist and his group during the winter, but our records show fewer are leaving.”

“Good riddance,” one of the Officials muttered, and others chuckled with him. Ron could only bring himself to crack a smile.

“That means,” Mr. Germain said with a smile as he handed out a stack of papers, “we are approaching true utopia very soon. With so many scientists living in one clearing, their government will soon collapse, if they had any sort of leadership to begin with. We have no fear of those who leave our city.”

“However, we need to make sure all the scientists are either out of the city, or taken care of,” Mrs. Germain said. “To do this, President Arnold is proposing a new set of standards for us as Officials and Junior Officials, and will soon make this law applicable to all the citizens of Musical Land.”

A stack of agendas were thrust into Ron’s hand. He took one before handing the stack to John. Ron tried to go over the list, but it was so long he could barely read the first three before feeling overwhelmed.

“Let’s begin,” Mrs. Germain said as she set the first sheet on the projector and Mr. Germain turned off the light.

Ron listened with growing annoyance as the training went on. Did President Arnold seriously expect those who followed him to not use calculators? To not even say the word? To no longer visit labs? Ron was so weirded out by these new rules that he completely forgot to poke John. When John started to snore, Ron gave a hasty poke and he gave a loud snort. The Germain’s paused in their presentation to glance in the general direction, but John simply turned on his acting skills and circled something in the agenda to look like he was actually paying attention. Ron fought the urge to roll his eyes. This entire meeting seemed comical.

“Now, are there any questions?” Mrs. Germain asked as Mr. Germain turned on the light.

There was a brief pause as Ron glanced around at the other Officials and Junior Officials of the room. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking, but he needed to believe he wasn’t the only one who found this whole thing comical. Before he knew it, he was raising his hand.

“Yes. I have some questions,” Ron said.

The Germains turned to look at him. “About which part?” Mr. Germain asked.

Ron couldn’t help but give a short laugh. “All of it.”

Mr. Germains eyes darkened. “This is, of course, for the safety of everyone involved.”

“How?” Ron asked.

“President Arnold feels safer knowing those that are closest to him have absolutely no ties at all with science and mathematicians,” Mrs. Germain said. “And then, of course, to make sure the citizens leave these subjects alone.”

“Don’t you mean mad scientists?” Ron asked. “Because yes, we must rid ourselves of all the mad scientists, but that doesn’t mean we start pointing fingers at each other because someone wants to understand the inner workings of a clock.”

“Of course it will never come to that,” Mr. Germain said, his voice getting dangerous.

“Then why must President Arnold insist we...” Ron straightened the paper to read the exact wording of one of the demands. “...always report anyone who is acting in a suspicious manner, no matter who it is, no matter how small.” Ron glanced over the page.

“If you have nothing to fear, you have nothing to hide,” Mrs. Germain said.

“No,” Ron said, a slight twitch in his eye. “If President Arnold has nothing to fear, he has no reason to ban calculators.” Ron glanced at the paper again, feeling like he wanted to laugh. “Or change the word “science” to “the discipline of factual knowledge”. Can’t see that one catching on with the younger kids.” Another chuckle rippled in the group from that one. “And is he really enforcing that we only associate with people in the “discipline of factual knowledge” when it deals with business? All other times we must avoid such people? Is President Arnold really telling us grown adults who we can and can’t be friends with?”

There were quiet, nervous chuckles around the room. A glare from Mrs. Germain made them stop.

“You are members of the S.E.A., and therefore have standards which must be upheld. Of course, all this training will go through a trial run with us, those closest to President Arnold. He might choose to make changes before this reaches the public, but not many,” Mrs. Germain said.

Ron had a comeback, it was on the tip of his tongue, and there he let it die. The Germain’s were distraught about their daughter, and he wouldn’t use her to poke and prod the Germains. He did have limits to what and who he used to his advantage during debates.

“This is a law drawn up by President Arnold. Do you object to this, Ron?” Mr. Germain asked.

“Absolutely,” Ron said. He resented how much President Arnold wanted to control their lives. If anything, President Arnold should make it easier for people to live their lives by staying out of it.

“We will need two objections if President Arnold needs to reevaluate the-”

“I object,” John said before Mr. Germain finished.

Mr. Germain let out an annoyed breath. “And there needs to be three objections from Junior Officials, since you don’t hold a higher rank,” Mr. Germain said through gritted teeth.

There was a pause around the room, and Mr. Germain’s annoyed look turned slightly smug until Walt rose his hand.

“I object.”

Ron raised an eyebrow in Walt’s direction. He wasn’t expecting it, but it was nice all the same. It struck him that the three Junior Official’s who had a special mission with their interns were also the only ones objecting. The same thought must have crossed Mrs. Germain’s mind, because her eyes narrowed and darted between the three of them.

A muscle in Mr. Germain’s jaw twitched. “Fair enough. We will send the minutes up to President Arnold to review and come to a decision as to the best course of action. Everyone return your papers to the desk and get back to work.”

It would do little good. When President Arnold put forth a new law or standard for the Officials and Junior Officials, he wasn’t really asking for their permission. The only time he drastically changed something was if everyone disagreed. The objection of three Junior Officials wouldn’t mean much. In fact, it would only bring them to President Arnold’s attention. Ron heard the rumors of President Arnold’s paranoia, but he never believed them. He could see why they thought so. The things President Arnold suggested seemed silly. How old was President Arnold getting? It had to be time to retire soon, right?

Ron placed his paper at the desk.

“Ron, John,” Mr. Germain said. “A word, if I may.”

There wasn’t much time to agree or disagree before Mr. Germain took them gently by the shoulders and led them to a far off corner. Mrs. Germain came over with Walt as the rest of the Officials and Junior Officials filed out of the room.

“We will of course be sending your names up to President Arnold, to let him know you three were the ones that objected,” Mr. Germain said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” John said, crossing his arms. “After all, you don’t have to hide from people you trust.”

“Then I shall let him know as soon as possible,” Mr. Germain said, acting like John wasn’t trying to provoke him.

“If you are concerned that you might be called out because of your interns, I assure you, it was an assignment from us and you will not get marked for it,” Mrs. Germain said.

“Aren’t you worried both of you will get marked?” Walt asked.

The Germains turned as one toward Walt. Mrs. Germain’s eyes turned dark, while Mr. Germain’s facial features froze in a neutral position.

“What happened to our daughter was tragic and sad, but this does not concern her,” Mr. Germain said, stiff and formal as though he spent months practicing it in front of a mirror.

Walt gave a small, respectful nod. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, and my deepest sympathies. It is horrific that the mad scientist in the clearing got to your daughter.”

Ron winced in sympathy. Walt was being gentle, but it still had to be sickening to have them remember the horrific time. Ron had of course heard about Sophie ever since he joined the S.E.A. The Germain’s rebellious daughter who refused to study the arts was seduced by the sciences. All the warnings did nothing, and Sophie still crossed over to the other side to study from the mad scientist. But it did little good. The reports from that day were that Sophie didn’t stay long in the clearing before the head mad scientist, Josef Mengele, discovered who she actually was. Then he tortured her and sent her back with her memories wiped. To have her disappear again, with no knowledge of where she might be, it must be maddening for the Germains to have their daughter so viciously ripped from them, most likely by the people responsible for her torture.

“I objected for your sake,” Walt continued.

“Just get to the point, Walt,” Mrs. Germain said, her voice cold.

“All I’m saying is it will take one opportunist to realize he or she could make a grab for power by taking you out, and this law could be the means of getting that accomplished.”

Mrs. Germain’s eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening us, Walt?”

“No. I am not the kind of person who would come after your jobs like that. I’m simply warning you. I guarantee if President Arnold passes this, someone power hungry enough will come after you, and you will have only yourselves to blame.”

“Thank you for your warning,” Mrs. Germain said, her voice still frosty. “We will take that into consideration.”

“Thank you for your time, we will anxiously await your report on the progress of your interns,” Mr. Germain said.

The three of them nodded before leaving the conference room. They walked in silence to the elevator, Ron completely lost in his own thoughts. It wasn’t until the door opened and Walt nodded to the other two before going down a different hall did Ron force himself to focus. He and John walked down the quiet hall.

“Did this meeting seem ridiculous to you?” Ron asked.

“Wrong person to ask, but yeah,” John said.

Ron gave a slight twitch of a smile. “Do you honestly think they’re going to fire us for doing any of this stuff?”

John shrugged. “Maybe not, but I doubt they’ll give us a promotion.”

Ron grunted.

“You know, the Officials probably have meetings like this all the time.”

Ron turned ever so slightly, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What are you saying?”

John paused at the door of his office. “Just that… they ask us to keep these meetings secret because they do things like this. How many meetings like this do you think the Officials have?”

“We’re not that much lower in rank from them. How many more secrets do you think they’d keep from Junior Officials?” Ron asked.

John shrugged, and Ron felt unsettled. He had blown the whole meeting off as a joke, but what if it wasn’t? Could there be something more sinister to all this? Not only that, but President Arnold now knew he was one of the people who objected.

“See you later, Dutch,” John said, quietly entering his office.

Ron gave a slight nod, “Duke.”

Ron walked to his office and opened the door. He saw Albert working hard, typing furiously on a laptop. “I’m almost done with this meeting, just have a few more things to write down,” Albert said before glancing up at Ron. His face fell. “Mr. Reagan? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Ron said instinctively, realizing the thoughts from his head might have strayed to his face. He couldn’t have that happen, especially in front of Albert. “Just fine. When you’ve finished your work, let me see it, then you can move on to the next one.”

Ron sat down at his desk and dove into his work. He noticed Albert was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Ron couldn’t blame him, since he was doing the exact same thing to Albert.