The Grasshopper

Chapter 4

Mr. Kaella, having finished his conversation with Erivan in the Royal Suite on the last floor of an elite hotel, turned towards his son. Prince Kaella sat in an armchair and placed on the club table in front of him the oval glass of cognac that he was enjoying, after a truly magnificent dinner.

“So the first act was concluded successfully?” he asked his father, who was slowly lowering himself into his armchair, holding on to the wide armrest.

“Yes it has, son. Unfortunately we have to use all available means to protect Humane Capitalism. You know, I’m very sorry…” Mr. Kaella’s voice trembled. “It is very difficult for me… that you, my only son, will have to face such people, to fight against them. I wanted to enable you to peacefully focus on preserving our wounded planet and saving mankind from the ruthless nature. That is the mission that you had chosen, son, as a young man. And that was no coincidence, son. That is quite the logical continuation of our family tradition,” Mr. Kaella’s voice became firm once again. “You are actually continuing what your great-grandfather started, with the discovery of Cosmic Energy. And your grandfather and I were forced to dedicate our lives to organizing human society. He – by creating the State of Earth, and I – by creating the Association of Companies.

“And trust me, son, there is no job more difficult, more prickly and ungrateful that this job. While doing good for people, instead of gratitude, you are slapped in the face ceaselessly by human envy, stupidity… hatred. It is obvious that I have lived all this time in an illusion that you can change that by persistent goodness and nobleness. And I didn’t listen to the persistent advice and warnings of my faithful Erivan. But now I know, on the eve of my death it is finally clear to me, that with such deviant creatures, such as the Non-Consumers, you can only do away with them by force!” Mr. Kaella raised his voice and slammed his weak hand on the armrest.

“Please, father,” Prince Kaella interrupted his elderly father. “Don’t trouble yourself with that. Everything will be alright in the end. You will rule the world for many more years, and I will calmly continue with my work. The way that you’ve always wanted it to be.”

“I’m not some naïve dreamer who doesn’t understand what is going on around him. All these years I have been aware that you are hiding from me the real problems of the State and the Company, that you wanted to spare me these ugly, unpleasant facts. However, the Non-Consumption evil is present and together we can meet it head-on and defeat it. We finally have a real operative as president. He will do this… prickly job, for us.”

“I know. And I knew all this time that it was clear to you… but I still dreamt that… Perhaps your three beautiful children will rule a better world? Do you know, son, how proud I am of my grandchildren? How happy I am that they are beautiful and smart, excellent students… that they love each other, that they get along well. Son, they are our greatest treasure. And their wonderful mother. How she supports you in your efforts…”

Prince was no longer listening to his repeated elderly lament. He also wasn’t thinking about the Non-Consumers, or about his children or the world that they would rule. He was thinking about something else. About someone else. Just as it had been every moment since he first saw her.

“…I’ll be at peace, son, only when that damned Pascal Alexander is no longer among the living.”

That name interrupted Prince’s train of thought.

“That man, father, that beast, is the only thing that is troubling me!” said Prince while sitting up in his chair. “He drives me crazy, to be completely honest.” Prince’s eyes were full of hatred. “The fact that he dares to hold his election speech in Magapolis, the largest city on Earth, which I have created, from the very first street, from the first building, over twenty years, day after day…”

Prince slammed his fist on the club table, which was not sturdy enough to quietly absorb the exerted force, and leaned it over a little. The oval glass fell over, rolling through the spilt cognac to the very edge, then slipped of it and fell on the carpet. Due to table’s low height and the considerable thickness of the carpet, which is appropriate for a carpet in the salon of a Royal Suite - the glass did not break.

“…twenty years of work, creative thinking, late nights… Megapolis, my Megapolis, a city far from any shore, unburdened by the rising ocean level, beyond the reach of tsunamis, in an area with the fewest storms, hurricanes… best protected from viruses, epidemics…”

“I know, son, I know everything…” Mr. Kaella whispered.

“…with drinkable tap water,” Prince got up and started violently walking around the Royal Suite, “…parks, avenues green with trees… Every person on Earth dreams of living in it. In my Megapolis! And that worm will hold his speech in the square that I created, in the largest and greenest square on the planet, a square that bears the sacred name Consumer Square. He’s spitting on my entire life! On everything that I am and everything that I exist for!”

Prince suddenly became quiet and went to the window. He watched the lights of the city beneath him and breathed with difficulty, trying to calm himself.

When Mr. Kaella finally managed to raise his feeble body from the deep armchair, he approached Prince and put his trembling hand on his shoulder.

“Just a little more, son, and we’ll defeat them.”

“I know that, father,” Prince answered in a much calmer voice. “But that speech will be held. It is clear to me. We have to allow this, in order not to arouse suspicion. But even after our victory, that act will…” he spoke softly, full of bitterness and despair, “will always be a open sore on my heart.”

After several moments of silence Prince turned from the window towards his father and looked at him tenderly.

“Forgive me, father,” he said. “Instead of unwaveringly supporting you in these historic moments, I’m burdening you with my actually irrational, solely emotional outbursts of anger. Forgive me.”

“No, you forgive me, son… for not doing this ten years ago. Had I done so, no scoundrel would have gotten close to your Megapolis. But I didn’t. It is difficult to make such a decision. It’s contrary to the convictions, efforts and results that our family had achieved over four generations. Actually, that wasn’t my decision. The Non-Consumers themselves made the decision. I will just very considerately give them what they want.”

“I understand, father.”

“Now go, son. Sleep, get some rest.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night, son.”