Face-to-Face with Frank Stanton
Michael
This … is CBS.
Monday. October 15, 1973. As Archie sits in the waiting area outside Frank Stanton's office, it's clear that this is a man whose mandated retirement from the Tiffany Network at the age of 65 is coming, and soon. In fact, in the 15 minutes he's been here, having rushed in a cab from JFK, Archie has seen workmen literally measuring the reception area for whomever is going to succeed Frank as Vice-Chairman. The scuttlebutt around Black Rock and in the trades is that Stanton will get to keep his staff, his benefits, and some office space at CBS headquarters, but that William Paley wants the public to dispense with the idea that CBS is a two-man operation. Stanton's titles, his job responsibilities, his pull at the network … Paley wants them gone.
These rumors of discontent between Paley and Stanton have been going around since at least the mid-'60s, with one persistent industry rumor insisting that Paley was such a huge fan of Gunsmoke that he personally called for its 1967 cancelation to be rescinded, and for Stanton's favorite, Gilligan's Island, then renewed for a fourth season after three years of top ratings, to be canceled in retribution and for Gunsmoke to take its Monday night slot, a favorite slot of Mrs. Paley's. (Of course, Archie remembers, Bill Paley was always looking for ways to get into Mrs. Paley's good books considering what a cad he was around town.)
Archie remembers catching a Gilligan rerun a few years back after receiving formal SANDMAN memetics training and realizing every episode was packed full of SANDMAN memetics and source code … but Archie now wonders if all of these secret hidden messages were, instead, in their way, CWG memes. After all, here all the castaways are, surviving on an uncharted desert isle with the help of a Professor, a Millionaire, a Military Man, and a Serendipitously (Un)lucky Goofball who keeps them safe but also stranded. Not to mention the Millionaire's Wife and those two archetypally-stunning young women; Archie hears Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove in his head, saying der vimmen vill haff to be selected for their sexual characteristics vhich vill haff to be of a … highly stimulating nature … it's honestly all too much to think about now as Archie awaits his 9:30 appointment.
A buzz at the front desk, and Stanton's pretty receptionist answers. She nods, says, "Yes sir," hangs up, and then raises her head to Archie. "Mr. Ransom? Dr. Stanton is ready for you now," she says with a dazzling white smile.
Dr. Stanton sits at his big desk, seemingly dwarfed by his giant installations of modern art, by the office's sleek Eero Saarinen design and Florence Knoll Bassett décor. He looks like a small man, a pitiful man, pale and old, much unlike the gregarious gladhander that Archie first met as a fellow Sandman a little over five years ago. So much has changed since '68, Archie realizes.
Frank does not get up, but he does gesture to the single seat in front of his desk. "Arch." Stanton audibly gulps. "I've gotten used to people reading me terms of surrender lately," he says archly, gesturing in a vague way to the workmen in his lobby, "so now I guess it's time for me to be retired from the job I really care about."
Rob
Archie has been mentally girding himself for battle, so Stanton's opener throws him a little bit. When he got out of the cab in front of Black Rock, he tried to fight the urge to gawk up at the Manhattan skyscrapers like some rube from Provo, but failed, as he always does.
Archie sits. He offers a sympathetic smile, but doesn't deny what Stanton is intimating. "Let's not think of it like that. Let's … " Then he catches himself feeling bad for Stanton, feeling sympathy (even pity?) for this man he's respected so much for so long. He doesn't want this feeling, emotionally or tactically, so he stops himself and starts again, more the way he'd pictured, more businesslike. "Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Frank. I thought it was important we talk in person. I feel I owe you some explanation of what happened Friday … and then we need to talk about how to move forward."
Michael
"You're setting the agenda, son. Please. Go ahead." Frank inhales sharply.
Rob
"Okay. Well." A long pause, a sheepish laugh. "Explaining Friday is easier said than done, ha ha."
Archie launches into it. "Tony Reinhardt was bad news. That's not a cover story, that's the truth. I don't know if he was bad to begin with or he spent too long with the enemy's tools, but either way, he was off the reservation. Reinhardt erased our memories, Frank. He tampered with our minds. He was in our office, on my team, for a whole year, and I don't have a single memory of him! Was he in my home? Did he meet my children? It's a, a violation, is what it is."
He takes a breath, speaks more calmly. "Now, Marshall Redgrave. The thing is, Marshall is sympathetic to … to your whole point of your view. He would have been receptive to any overtures from your working group — until he found out what Reinhardt had done to him. Until he realized how we were all being played."
"So, what you had there was an explosive situation. And it could have gone worse than it did. I'm certain that if I'd stepped into that conference room even one minute later, there would have been four dead bodies on the floor. At least."
There's more, obviously, but Archie waits to see how Stanton responds.
Michael
"I'm still not sure what exactly went on in that room, Archie, but if you're telling me that Reinhardt is the only casualty and if you're using the present tense for Redgrave, well, it's clear where we stand right now." Stanton takes a moment. "My fellow Steering Committee members are a motley bunch, there's no doubt about that, and I've definitely had my differences with Tony over the years. He's … " A pause. "He was, always too quick to let loose the hounds for 'clean-up.' Your girl's lover, Wolf … he, and all the other members of GRAIL TABLE, they didn't have to die. They could have just as easily been wiped or brought onboard, but … Tony just always had to clip loose ends. Hell, Arch, we both know Reinhardt and Redgrave both haven't been the same since that mission in Cambodia in '67. Both of them have a huge red flag on their files at the Peak. If, you know, we're speaking of, uh, 'enemy influence.'"
Stanton blinks slowly, maintaining eye contact with Archie. "But go on. It's obvious you're just getting started here."
Rob
Archie nods, takes in everything Frank is saying.
"What I say about Marshall, it extends to the rest of URIEL. The whole team we've assembled there, the remarkable individuals we've brought together, they are all powerful — but delicate — instruments. That was the mission, right? Assemble a team of oddballs, square pegs, strange abilities, the boundaries of human potential? Well, we did that. And that team: each one of them is critical to this battle we're waging. Gosh, Frank, they're … they're just an amazing bunch." He speaks with genuine warmth, lets his affection for the team shine through, before turning serious again. "But. They will have to be handled carefully, and treated with respect, and they will not be fooled again. The science experiment is over. Your working group needs to understand that. Control needs to understand that. Whoever takes over URIEL after me needs to understand that."
Michael
Frank nods soberly. "The Project has the unfortunate habit of treating its members like lab rats. And URIEL is obviously no exception; if anything, you all have been poster children for that policy. The turnover your team has experienced since putting down your stakes five years ago … Dr. Jayne, Dr. Postel, Ms. Edelstein … some folks can't handle that kind of … rapid acceleration. But some of you … some of you downright flourished, didn't you?" Even given what Archie said, even given Archie's essential and basic demand for dignity, Archie sees that Frank can't help but be impressed by how much URIEL has grown, how they've risen up to become so strong that they can even strike down their makers. "You're absolutely right in supposing that's why we threw you together. To develop your abilities faster, quicker, stronger — to see what could be done to the gifted in a hurry, in order to provide us some help in surviving what's coming. The brains behind the Working Group are going to wonder if that kind of human potential development can actually be done with informed consent. But you've all outgrown that cradle now. It's clear."
And then, almost as an afterthought, Dr. Stanton says, "Wait a minute. Whoever takes over URIEL after you? What are you saying, Arch? Are you bucking for a retirement package here today as well?"
Rob
"So, about that," Archie says. "I know I've been talked about for your job, Frank. Not here at CBS. I mean your job as head of memetics, in charge of all SANDMAN's media ops for North America. Well, I want it. I want the position, and the power to use it. I want a team of memeticists and esmologists, my own people, picked by me. I want to be able to deploy memes on Carson, Cronkite, major league ball games. And I want to report directly to Control."
He holds up his palms in an 'I know, I know' gesture. "I know there are doubts about me: if I'm cold-blooded enough, or maybe just if I'll play ball. I'd like to think I've proven myself on those scores, but if Control still needs to be convinced? I've got the hobo language from my old show. The grammar, the syntax. I can give it to them. Well, not to them. It wouldn't do them any good. I need to teach it directly to the children."
He leans back in the chair. "I can't just stay at URIEL after all that's happened. How would it look? What kind of authority would I have? It's up or out for me, Frank, and if that means pushing you aside, I really am sorry. But that's what I want, and that's what I have to offer."
Michael
In a faraway dimension, Sebastian Stone, in his underground office-cum-sanctum sanctorum at Dulce Base, gazes into an eye-like scrying orb and cackles maniacally to himself.
Fast-Talk-20, Rob. Corruption is, of course, available.
Rob
Corruption seems appropriate — I'll take the 1 point to "unlock" it, and then I can spend more depending on how I roll?
Michael
Yes indeed.
Rob
>> SUCCESS by 10
Michael
That's an effective 9, which is a success by 11. To get into crit territory (6) would require another 3 Corruption, to get an effective roll of a 3 would take another 6 Corruption.
Rob
What's the difference between a crit and an effective roll of 3?
Michael
I mean, it basically just depends on how good you think Frank is at resisting such things.
I'm just saying, Stoney's watching and he wouldn't hesitate to use a little extra Mana for a spell of such importance.
Rob
Oh, I get it. Yeah, sure, 6 points.
Michael
Frank shakes his head. "I'm … I'm honestly shocked. I never figured you for that job, Arch. Never. Oh sure, some of the buzz boys at the Peak thought we were grooming you for the spot, but even with all the amazing work you and your team've done in the Bay Area the past five years..." Frank just sort of looks away from Archie for a heavy moment or two. "You're right. I don't think you have the balls for a job like this." Frank purses his lips, aware of what he's told his protege, but presses on, this time much more solemnly.
"The Golden Language … well, that's a different story. When the Lookout Mountain team first brought me the kinescopes of Ransom Roundup back in '60, and we sent the recordings to Chomsky and Jakobson at MIT... Christ, Arch, you cannot imagine what a splash they made at the Peak and Tavistock. They wanted to know where this language came from. How could I tell them it was a goddamn local puppet show? We don't often deal with manna from heaven like this. We needed to know if it was real. SANDMAN computers extrapolated the most basic grammar from the vocabulary your hobo friend provided … it was the real deal. A spontaneously-generated human language, devoid of any Anunnaki linguistics."
"So we did a slow roll. I told them we needed you on the team, but we took it easy, so as not to spook you. Greased the wheels to get you into advertising, which of course is lousy with Sandmen. Offered you the Beatles gig after the assassination in '64 — which you rejected, by the way, and I still can't believe you did — but we remained patient. And then … well, yes, Archie, we came to you at your lowest point... and Christ am I sorry for having to do that, but needs must."
"So the 'syntax' as you call it … yes. We need it. For the next generation. For the Continuity Working Group's plans. A generation raised on that language would be for all intents and purposes immune to the Anunnaki. Even if reality fell apart around them, they wouldn't have the ability to see or describe it. The inevitable Second Coming wouldn't be a death sentence for humanity. There'd be a way. A way to survive it."
"The question I've wanted an answer for all these years, though," Dr. Stanton says, coldly, with poise and incision, after another pregnant pause, "is where the hell did you get the Language from, Arch?
Rob
(Did the Fast Talk not succeed, even with the Corruption? Can I make a Psychology roll or something for a sense of how persuaded/persuadable Frank is at this point?)
Michael
Yeah, I think Psychology-21 would work here. (Giving you a consistent +2 bonus on these rolls by the way because of the advantages you have on Frank right now.)
Rob
>> SUCCESS by 12
Michael
Frank's initial harshness around whether Archie is fit for the job or not is a dodge; his switching to talking about Aulang and the value Archie has for the Project, similarly, is an expression of barely-veiled distaste at what 13 years of canny manipulation has finally led to; his having to take terms from his former protege. Archie can tell Frank is sick to his stomach at the fact that Archie holds all the cards now, and is putting on a brave, frankly macho face to try and save his own dignity, his identity as the Eye at the center of the Dark Tower. In other words, Frank is seething.
Frank hasn't lost all his cards, of course; Archie feels like his asking after the origins of Aulang is an attempt to bring Archie back into the circle of trust (and extract some vital information) after "negging" him a little bit, but Archie realizes now that much of the set dressing of this meeting—the workmen literally measuring the drapes, Frank's body language and mannerisms, his own syntax—has been a way of trying to get Archie to lower his guard, to tug on his sentimental side. NLP techniques, most likely. And now that Archie has not lowered his guard, and in fact is showing steel he's never shown Frank before, Frank is shaken and lashing out, like a child not getting his way. Deep down, though, Frank knows he's beaten.
Rob
(Nice.)
Michael
(Very canny observation of Frank's attitude on your part, by the way. I know it came from the knowledge of your Corruption-aided success but on the same token this is definitely the kind of realpolitik that didn't come natural to Archie before Stoney, so it makes sense a little Corruption helped Archie see through it. He's a cold bird that Stoney.)
Rob
(Oh, for sure! Plus Archie's new Over-Confidence is in play. And I've got a whole rationale in my head for why everything Archie's doing is for the best, really, but then that's how Corruption works, isn't it?)
To Frank's question about the Language, Archie just smiles, something between "nice try" and "that would be telling." But it's a cold smile, and he answers levelly: "I appreciate your candor, sir. But it's not your call to make, is it? My visit today, this is a courtesy, after all you've done for me. But my offer is for Control, not you."
Archie relaxes his posture, tries to hold out an olive branch. "You must see it, Frank. There's only two ways this can go. Door number one? I take over Memetics. We give URIEL to Marshall Redgrave. I mean, I'll keep my hand in, but he's the only man for the job. (Good luck getting the rest of them to follow anyone else!) The working group, whatever you want to call it, they can keep digging their mineshafts. That's fine with me. I'll be making America healthy again. Good memes, healthy memes, giving people the ability and the will to resist the Red Kings. And Control will like that redundancy: the old belt and suspenders, your approach and mine. Plus, SANDMAN gets the Golden Language, and you get to enjoy your retirement, knowing all your work was not in vain."
"Door number two?" He looks genuinely sorry at the prospect. "URIEL would have no choice but to root out and destroy the whole fifth column, this whole web of Anunnaki infiltration that Reinhardt's treachery has revealed. Control doesn't want war between us, and neither do I. But believe me when I say, the rest of URIEL are straining at the leash for that fight. Every one of them, with all their inexplicable abilities. I don't think your little subcommittee would survive. And if I'm taken off the board, me or anyone on my team for that matter, nobody gets the Language. In which case, what was your whole life of sacrifice and compromise for?"
Archie wraps up his pitch. "So. You tell Control that those are their two options. Or, turn me down, and you'll see what I, ah, have the balls for."
Michael
Frank's bluster vanishes in a New York minute, but he addresses Archie's own gambit first, and directly. "Your door number two would be mutually-assured destruction, Archie, I assure you. There are safeguards upon safeguards built into the Working Group's members. Tony's an acceptable pawn sacrifice — he was unloved and won't be missed — but you are right. Nobody wants an all-out war, and besides that fact, an internal civil war would devastate the Project, leaving us all open to a full-on Enemy victory, well ahead of schedule. We have to work together, not just for my … not just for the Working Group's work up to this point, but for the good of all humanity." Frank gets up for the first time, looks to a photo of the CBS Moon landing broadcast ("LIVE FROM THE MOON") on his little "wall of fame" behind his desk, touches it for a moment, then returns to his chair.
"You understand, though, why we're 'digging the mineshafts,' as you put it? You realize no one can put this genie back in the bottle. Technology, Arch. Jet planes. Satellites. Telecommunications. Computers. All the grim predictions of the population bomb folks, the computer simulations. The whole thing is self-sustaining at this point, it's a runaway train, and the Red Kings are salivating over how easy we've made it for them to take back over. You can do whatever you like with mass media from here on out, Archie, but at this point you can't fucking save humanity with a … with a puppet show. You'll be glad we're working on our mineshafts when the time comes. You may still be alive when the Day comes. I won't, but I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for … posterity. For America." Archie for a moment remembers that Frank and his dear wife Ruth have no kids. No skin in the game. Like Mr. Howell and Lovey, the crazy voice in Archie's head says.
Frank breathes and smiles for a moment, like a huge burden has been taken off his shoulders. "I've obviously never told you this, because it's Top Secret, but given you're going to be learning a lot of uncomfortable secrets soon, this seems like the time. During Ike's second term—late in the term, when he was in and out of the hospital and Sputnik was flying and we weren't sure if the Reds would be dropping nuclear bombs on us from space in the next six to twelve months — the President tapped me and nine other fellows to be part of a secret government — a continuity effort, if you will — that would coordinate the nation's survival in the face of … overwhelming odds. It was that responsibility that I've borne the past 15 years, a double responsibility for us to survive the Reds and the Red Kings. Esmology tells me the Reds aren't the long-term threat. It's us. Our weaknesses, our desire for new gadgets, for instant gratification. And tell me, Arch, what memes are going to save us from that? How exactly are you going to divert the runaway train? Maybe that's another secret you don't want to share with an old man with old ideas being put out to pasture... but you'd better fucking have an answer, or you're going to be spending the rest of your life trying to bail out the ocean with a thimble."
Rob
Archie briefly frowns when Stanton tells him about the Eisenhower Ten, thinks: but the old man did tell me this, just two days ago. But he doesn't say that. Instead, he stands up and holds out his hand for a handshake. "It sounds like we have an agreement. I'm glad. The rest is just a difference of opinion, over tactics."
But then he can't help but offer his own story. "Do you remember the X Article? Leaked by George Kennan in, what, '47? I read it and reread it when I was on my way to Korea. I thought the ending said it all." He recites from long memory, only slightly garbled: "'Surely, there was never a fairer test than this. To avoid destruction, the United States need only measure up to its own best traditions and prove itself worthy of preservation.' I'm probably messing it up, but I know I know the last part: 'In light of these circumstances, the thoughtful observer will find no cause for complaint in the Kremlin’s challenge. He will, rather, experience a certain gratitude to Providence, which, by providing the American people with this implacable challenge, has made their security as a nation dependent on their pulling themselves together and accepting the responsibilities of moral and political leadership that history plainly intended them to bear.'"
"'There was never a fairer test than this,' Frank." Archie grins. "And don't worry. It's going to be one heck of a puppet show."
Michael
"Korea," Frank chuckles to himself. "You know, for a good long while back in '60, when we were reviewing the 'scopes of your show, a few of the boys thought maybe that Dragon Lady character of yours might be, haha, a meme planted by the Red Chinese. You know, a 'Queen of Diamonds' scenario. A lot of the boys had read the Condon book, of course. Or, indeed, consulted on it." Stanton smiles. "Others were suspicious of the Language, thinking you maybe didn't come back from the war quite right. Maybe they used drugs on you to give you contact with the other side, maybe the Language was an Anunnaki trap. You know, they were naturally suspicious of a too-good-to-be-true kind of thing. A Trojan horse." Frank stands up to shake Archie's hand. "I've been going to bat for you for a long time, son. Saved you from a few scrapes. You coming here today … I consider us even now. I'll be on the phone with Control today, you should expect contact with them down in Huntsville soonest. Good luck, Arch. You're going to need it."