Jim Gemoules has been Secret President of North American for eighteen years and his hair has gone past white to nearly transparent.

“Anything else on the agenda?” he sighs.

“Almost done,” clicks the cyborg brainhost of D’Arcy McGee. “Still need the secret schedule of gas prices for next quarter.”

Jim Gemoules bites his lip. “Confound them! They’re a worse lever on the economy than the damn interest rate. Any suggestions, folks?”

“An increase,” says the Emperor Norton.

“A decrease,” snaps Braxxia of Centauri IV, “give them a break.”

Jim Gemoules looks out the window longingly, wondering if he’ll ever get parole.