Chapter 788: Dreams Are the End of Life |
“What a beautiful girl!”
As soon as they met, Ms. Tracy openly complimented Katherine’s looks. Katherine responded graciously.
It was clear that her two-month internship at the Presidential Palace had made her more mature—she no longer seemed intimidated by people like Ms. Tracy.
“Thank you for the compliment. You’re beautiful too, and you have an enviable aura.”
Lynch stepped in at the right moment and led the two women into the restaurant.
This was one of the more upscale restaurants in Eminence. The head chef had once been an obscure academic-style painter. Some of his classmates and friends had gained recognition in the art world, but he remained unknown.
Not because his art wasn’t good, but because his style wasn’t popular and he lacked the resources to promote himself. Eventually, he couldn’t even make a living.
After having his first child in middle age, he began to rethink his future.
He gave up on his dream of becoming a famous painter and turned to cooking.
The taste might not be the best, but the plating was undoubtedly among the finest in the Federation.
With uniqueness and publicity came business.
Dreaming of being a painter but ending up a chef—fate can be strange.
Lynch had reserved a set menu. Like many temperamental chefs, this one had his own eccentric rules. Once their basic needs are met and they gain some fame, such chefs often insist the market adapt to them, not the other way around.
But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that the food and environment were excellent.
“Katherine, may I call you that?” Ms. Tracy asked gently after they sat down. Katherine nodded naturally.
Ms. Tracy glanced at Lynch, then back at Katherine. “What’s your view on my work?”
Lynch had told Katherine about Ms. Tracy’s work beforehand. She responded quickly, “Fighting for women’s rights is the best embodiment of the Federation’s spirit of liberty. Times are changing, and we should acknowledge our rights instead of remaining silent in a male-dominated society.”
“Your work is admirable. If someone believes heroes can only be men, it must be because they haven’t met you, Ms. Tracy.”
It was a beautifully crafted compliment, sincere and well-delivered. Lynch raised his brows slightly. He swore he hadn’t taught Katherine those words—her growth was impressive.
And that growth was expected. Working in government teaches you what officials, mainstream media, and the public want.
Even if you’re not handling it yourself, watching others often enough helps you learn.
Every company in the Federation has one or two staff in the secretariat whose sole job is writing official communications. They earn more than regular clerks and do less work, but what they handle is crucial—reports to the government, press releases, public statements.
It seems simple, but framing the same issue in different ways depending on the audience is a skill.
Police might highlight the number of criminals arrested and weapons seized. City Hall might emphasize improved public safety and lower crime rates. Media might stress the government’s incompetence and the threat posed by criminals to stir tension and attention.
Same facts, different angles. Not exactly complex, but not easy either.
In just over two months, without guidance, Katherine had grown significantly.
Ms. Tracy’s smile widened. “That was very well said. I know you’re flattering me, but I really enjoy hearing it.”
She didn’t hide her thoughts—frankness, perhaps, is a trait of powerful people.
“Interested in joining us?” Ms. Tracy extended an olive branch. “You can have your own work. When you feel it’s necessary, you can participate in our activities too.”
Lowering her voice slightly, she added, “We don’t rush into the front lines ourselves. You won’t need to worry about that.”
She even patted Katherine’s hand, as if to reassure her completely.
Katherine looked at Lynch, who nodded. She agreed immediately.
The feminist movement was destined to evolve from a social phenomenon into a legitimate political force—just as history had naturally phased out slavery. Society would eventually have to face the reality of women’s rights.
There was nothing wrong with female officials having a feminist identity. In fact, it gave them a strong stance and relatable image, making them seem more genuine in the eyes of the public.
The Federation is a unique country—authenticity is a major factor in how people judge their officials.
Act too perfect, and people assume it’s all an act, a mask to fool the public.
But if you seem like a real person—some shining qualities, some minor flaws—people will see you as genuine, not a fraud.
Look at top politicians in the Federation and around the world: some are disheveled, some swear, some eat in public, some play golf. They all have quirks.
Katherine’s agreement brought an even more sincere smile to Ms. Tracy’s face. Asking Lynch for political donations in the future would be much easier now.
“Any plans for after your internship?” Ms. Tracy asked again. They had some time to chat before dinner was served.
Katherine thought for a moment. “Not yet. It’s still a long way off. My internship runs until next spring break.”
After that, she would return to school with her evaluation and receive a grade accordingly—then graduate.
If all went well, several professors would likely be willing to write her letters of recommendation.
Even if she didn’t go into politics, if she ever did in the future, those professors could proudly say they wrote recommendations for Katherine.
Shameless?
No, this is society.
Ms. Tracy hesitated slightly. After a moment’s thought, she said, “If you haven’t found the right position by next year, why not come work with me for a while? I don’t know if Lynch has mentioned it to you…”
She glanced at Lynch. He shook his head slightly. With a trace of pride on her face but feigning modesty, Ms. Tracy continued, “I’m planning to consolidate various scattered feminist organizations across the country. There’s a lot of work involved—negotiating with local governments and civic groups.”
“It might not be the most comfortable job. You won’t be spending much time in an office. But it will put you in front of every woman in the Federation, and everyone concerned with equality. They’ll know who you are.”
“Whatever we aim to do in the future, this would be a significant credential for us. Don’t you think so?”
Ms. Tracy’s offer caught Lynch off guard. He hadn’t considered this route at all—he didn’t even know Ms. Tracy would be visiting.
In his plan, Katherine would start as the mayor’s administrative assistant—a position easily secured, especially since the new mayor of Sabin was friendly to Lynch.
The new mayor was backed by the governor, who had a good relationship with Lynch. Edwin’s close ties to him only made the mayor more of an ally. Arranging for an assistant position was simple.
From there, Katherine could gradually get involved in politics—city council, mayor, state legislature, Federation House, state governor, senator, and eventually a presidential run.
It sounded easy, but execution would be far more difficult. The key for any politician is to gain recognition, to be known and respected for their vision and policies.
Now Ms. Tracy had presented a new path. Lynch suddenly found it appealing.
Though it might label Katherine as a feminist in the long term—a tag that doesn’t always carry weight in Congress—it wasn’t necessarily a disadvantage.
Times change. The feminist movement was still in its early stages. By the time it reached its middle or late phase, the collective awakening of women’s consciousness would force the nation to make the right choice.
We need a female president to prove the success of the equality movement, to show that all the political battles for women’s rights had meaning.
That moment might come twenty or thirty years from now—and when it does, maybe everything will align just right.
Lynch nodded slightly. Katherine immediately agreed, “This is exactly what I was hoping for. I want to do something for the women who are facing injustice. I want to do whatever I can.”
A pleasant conversation!
The chefs came out from the back, pushing carts toward the table, and the three of them stopped talking just in time.
The covered dinner plates looked almost absurdly large—at least a foot in diameter, concealing their contents.
Once everything was in place, the head chef—also the restaurant’s owner—came over personally to serve Lynch’s table.
It wasn’t because he was particularly close to Lynch—it was all for money and influence.
Art doesn’t fill your stomach, but money does.
