We had a rough start to the Tuesday Production Meeting. Monday was a busy day for her. One topic of interest had been covered by Arrias, who discussed where the conflict in Ukraine was likely to go, and it included a consideration of the real possibility of the use of WMD.

Marlow then had an account of the visuals he encountered on a long road trip from his Carolina Coastal Empire for a holiday visit to the In Laws, and the various colorful visions of America on the road again. From the Resident Staff, we had produced a thing about the unlikely burden of the Tax Code on the retired community and the imposition of complexities so bewildering that a computer program is required to have the numbers make sense only to the people who mandated we use them.

Amanda was cool with all that, even though a quick review was required on all three issues. None directly assailed the conduct of current officials, so by her charter the material was allowed to be distributed to the usual recipients. But there were some simmering issues clearly raised in all three of the accounts, and that is why she asked The Judge to stop by and make a few remarks to keep the crowd within the boundaries imposed by external events.

The Judge is an imposing figure. Not so much in bulk, since he retains a certain slim elegance from his years in the Advocacy Corps, rising to become Chief of the Navy’s legal apparatus at the end of his career, rewarded with the rank of Rear Admiral. Upon retirement, he had transferred his expertise to the a niche legal market in managing the interface of Tribal authorities and their gaming enterprises to stay in conformance with Federal and State regulations while respecting the independence of the Indigenous peoples of these United States.

That would make anyone’s head spin, and due to his service relationship with the Chairman, assumed a titular position as Legal Counsel to Socotra House. Mostly that involved cursory review of passing matters in which his signature block held some lingering authority. But Amanda was alarmed and needed him now.

The Judge arrived with a cup of his own coffee. Amanda flagged him down before he entered the bunkhouse. She leaned close and said: “They are starting to edge toward the established boundaries. They think something is really wrong. I think they are on the verge of trying to publish things that could get us all in trouble.”

The Judge has dealt with trouble all his life, and as the presiding official on the rectification of such issues, is the only one who has the experience to judge what risks require intervention. “Where exactly is the crowd going off the rails this morning? You have done a good job in keeping their insurgency under control.”

“It is the Border thing this morning. They had the News on the flat screen when I got here this morning. It was the usual nonsense. I think what set them off was the broadcast of a shadowy figure rolling a large piece of luggage away from a house. It was not a particularly alarming video, though the proliferation of crazy videos from the ubiquitous surveillance systems and hand-held phones is making the crazy stuff that has always happened seem much more immediate and visceral than it used to be.”

“So a brief vision of rolling luggage got them upset?”

“Not until they started showing pictures of the pert blonde lady who had been folded up into the bag after being stabbed 58 times.”

“It was broadcast material, so I can understand if none of them caught the warning usually announced before showing that stuff. It normally goes “some of these images may be upsetting, so if you might be disturbed, close your eyes.”

“It didn’t work. They watched anyway. What heightened their anxiety was the segment that followed of the Commander in Chief.”

“Understandable. There have been some moments of misinterpretation lately.”

Amanda shook her head, the blonde locks cascading in the frame around her face. “No, this one was not a mis-statement or something like that. The President was walking across the White House lawn to speak to some children, and a figure in an Easter Bunny suit grabbed him by the arm, whispered something in his ear, and directed him to go somewhere.”

“The Easter Bunny?”

“Yeah. And the Leader of the Free World. I got up to turn off the flat-screen so DeMille could start the production meeting, but the news segment continued to a bunch of people wading across the Rio Grande into the United States.”

“We have been seeing that for quite a while. Why would it get the Writers agitated this morning?”

“It might have been the Easter Bunny thing that preceded it. It caused some real dislocation in the crowd. That fellow Splash became irate. He started raising his voice and muttering partially coherent statements. He actually rose and said he had been in more than forty countries in his life and he always got in a line, produced documentation proving his citizenship and visa status, and that this was not “immigration,” legal or not, but a (expletive deleted) invasion.” She took a moment to brush strands of hair from her eyes.

“And that was the point. Splash was quite agitated about it. He claims there is some sort of law about the borders and no one seems to be following it.”

The Judge pursed his lips. “There are reports that more than four million Ukrainians have fled to Poland alone. There are movements of peoples that are quite large at present. They represent a time of transition in human societies, and we appear to be in one of them. The decision to embark on one of such dimensions is not unprecedented in human history. It has, in fact, marked most of them. It is a little unusual here, and apparently quite sudden. So bear with the Writers as they come to terms with change they can no longer control.“

“But they seem to feel like they need to do something about it. What do I do to control it?”

“Remind them we have all left the management of the system to a new generation. It is one to whom engagement and passion are still action items. We are past that now, and just need to adapt to the circumstances as best we can.”

“That is your guidance?” She raised her arms in question. “How do I deal with that?”

“You are young enough to have to deal with it. That is your job. And if necessary, we can arrange for someone in a Bunny costume to provide direction.” The Judge then gave a thin smile and went inside to get another cup of coffee in the kitchenette.

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