Ticklers Page 8

  But then there were his limitations; his imagination, for example. He'd just too little of it ever to question whether he was the natural choice for the top job. And, in a way, that was just as well. Because he wasn't. He simply had none of the qualities needed, none at all. Like each and every member of the League Council sitting around the imposing table in its Korpulund head office, his only real credential, in the very definite singular, was compliance to Kanker. Otherwise he was a charmless dead loss.

  Of course, that sweeping condemnation didn't apply to Gleeze himself. How could it? He wasn't like the others at all. And he definitely wasn't like Blobe…

  This particular burden on the League was sitting next to Smegerill. He had both the shape and the intelligence of a balloon, and had only earned his place on the Council through the most blatant patronage of its leader, to whom he sucked up with the strength of an industrial vacuum cleaner whenever he had the chance.

  He was so incredibly thick, he couldn't be given any real responsibility at all, and tended to drift through various projects and initiatives without ever producing anything - as, of course, do quite a few people who inhabit the world of large organisations. But with Blobe it was different. He knew he'd never ever be rumbled. Because he knew he had the protection of that all-important patronage - which guaranteed him not just a seat on the Council but an invulnerability within the League that other idiots could only dream of. Which is why Blobe really got on people's tits. And why Vorskyn hated him something rotten.

  Vorskyn was not an idiot. And whilst his IQ was not as high as his opinion of himself, it was still fairly impressive. And it certainly made him one of the smartest cookies on the Council. And he complemented this smart intellect with what he thought was a smart appearance and a smart manner. In fact, the truth was that he dressed like an up-market pimp and that he had the manner of an up-market whore. And all in all he came over as a bit of a smarmy-as-hell, know-it-all, grease-ball. But despite all this, he was one of Kanker's favourites.

  And he was one of his favourites, because he had a number of qualities that his leader found quite endearing. He was known to be a bastard with all his staff, for example - to a degree that Gleeze found quite appalling. And on top of this, his man-management in general was virtually non-existent. And best of all, he tended to shy away from any real effort on his own part, a trait in his character for which apparently Kanker had a particularly high regard.

  The avoidance of work was one of Wojjer's finer points as well. And this particular Council member had been at it for considerably longer than Vorskyn had. Indeed he'd not done a proper day's work in his entire life, and certainly never since he'd been in the League. How could he have - with the sorts of rôles he discharged…? He was, for example, the leader of the League's external relations policy development team. And he chaired its integrated strategy application taskforce - and its culture and ethics committee. And there was even a rumour that he headed up something to do with risk assessment in health and safety. Although given that all that sort of stuff had been discredited literally centuries ago, that's probably all it was: just a rumour. And Gleeze was certain it was. It was just too improbable for words. Or about as improbable as Kanker turning up to the meeting with a smile on his face…

  …and then there he was, sitting in his seat at the head of the table, glaring not smiling, and clearly already angry that Gleeze had not noticed his arrival.

  Gleeze knew he'd better get on with it. He'd better call the meeting to order. And fast. And so he began.

  'Gentlemen,' he announced, with just a mild hint of fluster in his voice, 'we have rather a long agenda ahead of us today. So with your permission, I'd like to take the last meeting's minutes as read, and…'

  'Yes yes,' interrupted Kanker. 'But where on this agenda is my title change? I don't see it anywhere.'

  Gleeze was taken aback. Kanker was known to be just a mite irascible at times, but he normally exhibited this tendency on selected agenda points. He didn't normally charge in quite this early in the proceedings.

  'Uh, I thought we could deal with that under "any other business", Senior Knight. I didn't…'

  'Crap!' advised Kanker. 'I can't believe you've been so stupid. Any other business? I ask you! For something as… as fundamental as the name of the leader of the League. I just cannot believe it!' He shook his head and then continued. 'We'll deal with it now. Agenda point one. Understand?'

  'Quite right,' squeaked Blobe. 'The Senior Knight's absolutely right. We should spend the whole meeting on it if needs be. How could you possibly…'

  'Yes,' interrupted Wojjer, clearly keen not to miss the opportunity to join in a bit of safe concurring at Gleeze's expense. 'What were you thinking of?'

  Gleeze bristled, but he knew when a sickly grin would achieve a darn sight more than would an indignant defence of his embattled position. 'An oversight of monumental proportions, my dear colleagues,' he grinned in response. 'You have my heartfelt apologies. And I invite you, Senior Knight, to open the debate on the title change without further ado. Agenda point one is yours. Indeed the meeting is yours.'

  His grin had remained intact throughout the whole of this oily apology. And now it turned into a gentle smile as he waited for his leader to speak.

  'Right. That's better, Gleeze. And next time make sure I have a copy of the agenda more than a few minutes before the start of the meeting. You're a knight, Gleeze. You can't afford to be sloppy. Understand?'

  Gleeze's smile remained intact. But it was being overtaken by broader smiles all around the table. Kanker often chastised people in front of an audience, but he rarely chose his deputy as the subject for such treatment.

  Gleeze managed a brief 'of course', still smiling but fuming within.

  There was then a pause while Kanker went through his thought-gathering ritual of pushing his spectacles further up his nose and then dusting the dandruff off his shoulders. There was always a rich supply there.

  At the same time, each Council knight considered how he might best avoid the obviously topped-up wrath of the master over the course of the meeting. They all came to more or less the same conclusion, including the abused Gleeze: gross, out and out fawning was required. Give the bastard whatever he wanted on this damned title nonsense, and then some more. Let him end up with the grandest handle in the universe. It didn't mean anything anyway - other than to Kanker. So why hold back? Why indeed?

  'You've all read my paper,' announced Kanker abruptly, the requisite weight of dandruff having been removed from his shoulders, 'and you're all now aware of my views on the inadequacy of the title of the position I hold in our renowned organisation. I believe the only redeeming feature of the present title is its antiquity. Otherwise it's an inaccurate as well as a totally inadequate description of my rôle. And most significantly, of course, in the presentation of my rôle to our clients, our potential clients and the entire universe at large.'

  At this point the soon to be renamed Senior Knight puffed out his chest, no doubt contemplating that vast audience out there who, before long, would be enlightened on the magnitude of his position within the League of Knights. He continued.

  'So I've distilled the essence of the multiplicity of my responsibilities within the League, and I've decided that the title should include… that is to say, I've decided to suggest to this meeting that the title should include reference to the supreme commander aspect of my rôle, but also, very importantly, to my chairmanship duties. And I mean there my chairmanship of our great organisation in strategic terms… and, I think it's true to say, in a spiritual sense as well.'

  His eyes had drifted to the ceiling for this last aberrational statement, which for Wojjer was probably a very good thing. Kanker didn't see his brief involuntary grin.

  'So gentlemen, if that's agreed… I mean if the meeting agrees, I suggest my title should be "Chairman Of Knights And Supreme Commander", succinct, accurate, modest in the sense of what it fails to include, but eminently communicative to ou
r wider audience.

  'So! What do you all think then? What does the meeting think? Come on, I want to know.'

  He glared at each Council knight in turn.

  There were five seconds of silence until Gleeze spoke. His agenda faux pas meant he had more fawning to do than the others around the table. So he'd better get on with it.

  'I think the title lacks personality, Senior Knight… uhh - if I may use your totally inadequate title for the present.' He grinned more broadly than ever. 'It's just…'

  'Lacks personality?' interrupted Kanker angrily. 'Do you know how long I've thought about this title? How much effort I've…'

  'You misunderstand,' interrupted Gleeze courageously. 'My reference to your excellent new title lacking personality was to draw to your attention its omission of yourself. It is too anonymous. It needs you. You should be in the title. What better than "Chairman Of Knights, Supreme Commander Kanker"?'

  '"Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights, Supreme Commander Kanker",' squeaked Blobe. 'I think you have to have the "Chivalrous" bit in there as well. It sounds just a bit too abbreviated otherwise.'

  'Quite right, Blobe,' added Wojjer, obviously realising from Kanker's reaction to his colleague's suggestion that he was on safe ground. 'And the addition of "Chivalrous" gives it a better balance. I mean as against the "Supreme Commander Kanker" end. Yes, I think that sounds really good.'

  Everybody nodded in agreement and smiled in the direction of Kanker - to be seen to be smiling by Kanker. Even Gleeze, whose own fearless first efforts had been obscured and forgotten by the combined contributions of Blobe and Wojjer, smiled in the direction of Kanker. But inside he was fuming again. He needed to reassert himself. And he did. Very quickly.

  'And I was going on to say that not only was the new title lacking in your own personality - which we've now rectified - but it also, in my opinion, still lacks in a recognition of your own personality's character… in its… in its "gravitas".'

  And yes! He could see it in Kanker's eyes behind those stupid spectacles. And it was the word “gravitas” that had done it. Hell, he was glad he'd been able to trawl that one up from somewhere.

  'So why not the "Respected Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights and so on and so on"?' I think that would have a wonderful ring to it…'

  Now Vorskyn took his chance to ingratiate himself to Kanker, and as a bonus, to get one over Gleeze, right over him with feet to spare.

  '"Respectus" not "Respected",' he interrupted, his early classics training providing him with the idea and the authority to suggest this fine tuning to Gleeze's own proposition - and in doing so, to rob him of its ownership.

  Gleeze mounted a half-hearted rearguard action.

  'One cannot say the "Respectus Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights",' he grinned. 'It sounds simply ridiculous.'

  'Of course it does,' responded Vorskyn icily. 'That is why one will say instead the "Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights Respectus" - a convention, Gleeze, I thought even you would have known.'

  Kanker was now beaming. Smegerill was not. He was clearly feeling distinctly out of it. And as his own early classics training consisted of no more than some avid reading of a pile of reissued Superman magazines, he was completely ill-equipped to enter the "Respectus" debate. But he needed to do something. He needed to make his own contribution to the title's not quite finished version.

  'I think "Ultimate"'s a good word,' he blurted - apparently with no idea of how he was going to develop his masterstroke.

  'What?' snapped Vorskyn, clearly interpreting Smegerill's addition to the proceedings as another assault on his Latin embellishment.

  'Shut up, Vorskyn,' shouted Kanker. 'Let Smegerill have his say. I like the word ultimate as well. Let's see what he's got in mind. Come on, Smegerill. What are you thinking of?'

  'Uhh,' responded Smegerill crisply, 'yes, uhh, what had I in mind? Yes.'

  Gleeze could see that he really wasn't sure what he had in mind. But Smegerill had an expectant Kanker across the table. So he'd better get something into that mind - and quickly. But what? Gleeze couldn't imagine. But then Smegerill continued.

  'Uhh, uhh, I always think of you as the ultimate uhh, commander, Senior Knight …uhh, I mean…'

  'Yes, yes, never mind about that,' prompted Kanker impatiently. 'Come on, come on.'

  'Well, uhh, I know you've got a supreme in there, but I think… uhh… I think ultimate's better. I really do.'

  'Do you?' growled Kanker. 'Well, I'm very pleased that you do. But how about "Supreme Ultimate", eh? That really sets the thing apart, doesn't it? "Supreme Ultimate Commander". Yes I think we'll go along with that - if the meeting's in agreement?'

  They all adopted their nauseous nodding and smiling acceptance of Kanker's proposal, their obligatory routine-without-exception nodding and smiling acceptance.

  And now Kanker himself had a further amendment to make to the developing title. Something that would reinforce to the present company that, whatever their contribution to the debate, even if they were contributions he accepted, there would always remain some finishing off, some rounding off and enhancement of what they on their own had put forward - that only he, Kanker could provide. And in any event, they had done far too much talking themselves during this meeting. His domination of the conversation had been well below its normal level.

  '"Emeritus"!' he pronounced. 'I think "Emeritus" might be considered by the meeting. You know, the "learned emeritus professor" dimension, which, I think you'll agree, we've all overlooked up to now. It was the "Respectus" that put me in mind of it. The… eerh… Latin bit which errhh Vorskyn introduced.'

  Vorskyn glowed in his seat. Blobe, Wojjer and Smegerill scowled. Gleeze fumed.

  'And I think they should be put together. "Respectus Emeritus" No! "Emeritus Respectus" - that's got a better flow to it. Yes. "Emeritus Respectus". Brilliant! I think with the chairman and the commander elements, that will give us just what we want.

  'Can you run it all together, Gleeze? I'd like to hear what it all sounds like.'

  'Certainly, Senior Knight. Or should I say former Senior Knight?' He gave vent to a silly polite little laugh that the rest of the company ignored entirely, and feeling more resentful than ever at the progression of the meeting, read out the pro-forma version of the intended title for his God-ship, Kanker.

  'I believe we might be voting on the title: "Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights, Emeritus, Respectus, Supreme Ultimate Commander, Kanker" and I, for one, will be casting my…'

  'Idiot!' interrupted Kanker. '"Emeritus Respectus" should qualify the entire title not just the chairman bit. They need to go at the end. Any fool would know that.'

  Gleeze felt murderous but smiled again.

  'My apologies…'

  'Oh shut up, Gleeze. Let me say it. And then we'll know what we've ended up with. What you can all vote for. OK?'

  Gleeze nodded and smiled again. And his master proceeded to pronounce on his new, most accurate, most informative, suitably qualified and impressively embellished title that, after all these years, would tell the universe exactly what he was.

  'I am, I believe, gentlemen, the "Chairman Of Chivalrous Knights, Supreme Ultimate Commander Kanker, Emeritus Respectus".

  'So how does that sound?'

  Gleeze's eyes twinkled. The whole miserable meeting had just been made worthwhile. All his torment throughout its course faded at the prospect of what he could now tell his boss.

  His advice was delivered in the most respectful of tones. It needed to be. He couldn't be seen to be making a mockery of the man at the top. Even if he was.

  'Splendid, sir. Errh… but just one thing. With such an expansive title… Well, we all know how the similarly expansive title of the League has given rise to the acronym: "Ticklers"… And I'm just a little concerned that the initials of your own new title, no matter how fitting it might be… Well, that they might be put to similar use. In which case you would be asking the meeting to confirm that the Senior Knight of the League would hen
ceforth be known as… as the…

  'Stop.' Screamed Kanker, at the top of his voice. 'Don't you dare say another word.'

  He was beside himself with anger. Gleeze could see it. And more because he'd done it himself: constructed an elaborate handle for his position at the head of the League that if used would make him its laughing stock. And the fact that it was so obvious that it was his doing meant that he couldn't take it out on anybody else. That's to say he couldn't choose one of their number to beat to a pulp. And that made him easily as angry as Gleeze was amused. And Gleeze was extremely amused. After all, it wasn't every day you had a chance to get the better of a monster. And certainly not this monster. And in such a satisfyingly public fashion.

  There was now a deathly silence in the boardroom. Clearly, even though everybody around the table was thoroughly enjoying themselves - with the exception of Kanker and possibly Blobe - nobody dared reveal this enjoyment, or indeed move a muscle in their body, lest it betrayed these inner feelings of unsurpassed glee. Then Kanker spoke. He spoke very quietly.

  'I propose to this meeting that the title "Senior Knight" be retained pending a further paper on the subject. And I also propose that the discussion of agenda point one be deemed out of order as not appearing on the published agenda and that it be struck from the record. I also think that all the published agenda points are a complete waste of fucking time and that we move to have this meeting closed. Gleeze, sort out the date of the next meeting.'

  And with that he rose and left the room.

  And nobody bade him farewell. Not even the ecstatic Gleeze whose amusement at the events of the last few minutes had now flowered into full-blown delight.