Chapter 2: Research - and Who is That Over There?

Tom made a quick phone call to Harry and Charlene Franklin, and had a nice long discussion on naturism, its philosophy and the concept of "social" versus "sexual" nudity.

He wrapped up the discussion by suggesting that they "might" have let him know what KIND of resort his darling daughter was attending, assured them that (a) they were still friends and (b) his daughter was still allowed to go with them to Sunny Glades whenever she wanted, as long as she wasn't grounded for some other reason.

"So, Harry, how long have you been into this 'naturism' thing?"

"My parents raised me naturist. They retired to Sunny Glades, I don't think they wear clothes more than a day a month, probably not even that."

"What do they do for groceries? For food?"

"Well, there are two restaurants there, one four-star and the other more a family joint, plus a coffee shop and a very well-stocked and large convenience store. Plus, the local supermarket delivers to Sunny Glades."

Charlene offered, "You should come and see it."

"Maybe after the election," Tom demurred.

"Definitely after the election, Tom," Barbara interjected. It wasn't just from Tom's side of the family that Melanie got her stubborn streak. "I, for one, want to see where my daughter is spending all her time."

Melanie, meanwhile, was temporarily banished to her room with the instructions: "Do your homework, and no you don't have to get dressed until tomorrow morning."

As they were going to bed that night, Barbara surprised her husband by returning from the bathroom naked. "Just trying on my daughter's pyjamas," she explained in reaction to Tom's raised eyebrow.

Saturday morning finally arrived. Barbara woke her daughter up early, and was unsurprised to discover Melanie had not worn anything to bed.

Robert Watkins was on duty that morning; he let in one of his co-workers, a grim-faced blond with a light frame that belied the strength hidden in her dark business suit and sensible shoes. He escorted her to the dining room.

"Ma'am, sir, this is Miss Melanie's new bodyguard, Katherine Lawrence."

If Katherine Lawrence was startled to see Melanie in the nude, enjoying breakfast at the dining room table, she didn't visibly react. "My pleasure, Miss Lucas."

"Why a new security guard?" Barbara wanted to know. Tom was also looking at the newcomer with a quizzical eye.

"The President personally recommended that Miss Lucas, as she is now the centre of attention and not all of it necessarily friendly, should have a team of bodyguards." She looked Barbara right in the eye. "I'm the lead agent of that team." Obviously there was much unsaid in her explanation.

Tom bid his family good-bye and stepped into the corridor outside the family's unit. As soon as he reached the major axis-way, with its broad expanse and shops under apartments, he was besieged by a legion of reporters, all wanting to know about this new development in a party that had heretofore not been especially friendly toward naturists. They threatened to overwhelm his security detail.

He saw a few of the regular reporters and waved at them, but quickly hustled his way down onto the subway system and headed for his office.

The plain-clothed security guard sitting at the receptionist's station rose and welcomed him in for the day; a day that, Tom was sure, was going to prove anything but dull.

The Party Whip was already in the boardroom, welcoming him with, "Tom, these overnight polls are a disaster. And that's even before they had a chance to see your daughter's little strip-tease act."

"I saw it, she was diving into a swimming pool, not lap-dancing." Tom made a face. "Let's call it for what it was. Swimming without a swimsuit."

"Yes, let's," responded the angry Whip, running his fingers through his tousled grey hair. Obviously he hadn't gotten a great deal of sleep in the past twenty-four hours. "It was a damn-fool idiotic stunt that could very well cost you the election."

"The foolish part was posting the video online, onto a hacked server. Whether it should have been assumed that the server was hacked is another issue, one for the fellow student who posted it up there and the teacher who wanted the video."

"About that teacher," the party Whip challenged, "Is he some kind of pervert?"

"She," Tom shot back, emphasizing the gender, "is my daughter's swimming coach, Judy Nelson." He reflected for a moment. "Last year, Judy led the school team to the Interplanetary Finals on Mars. Took second place." Just to go to the Interplanetary Finals was quite a coup; to place was extraordinary. "She's forever recording video of her team members, looking for ways they can improve their technique. We'll have to contact her and ask if the nudity was factored in when she asked for the video of my daughter."

The Whip nodded miserably. "The thing is, six months back we made such hay about President Yamashita's visit to Spica II. And now we've got this little scandal in our own candidate's family..."

Roger Wilcox, their Campaign Director of Media Relations, chose that moment to stride into the room, making a beeline for the coffee urn and pile of pastries on the sideboard. "As I see it, gentlemen," he offered as he poured his coffee black with no sugar, "we have two approaches to take. One, 'my daughter is sorry for her youthful indiscretion, and will never do it again', and two, 'yes, my daughter is a naturist and we support her'. Not supporting her decision is tantamount to disowning her, and will NOT go over well with the electorate. You might as well disown the election at the same time."

Other campaign executives had been trickling in, and had overheard their options. "Well, Tom, what are the chances of your daughter actually submitting to the 'youthful indiscretion' option?"

"Zero." Tom made a face. "She wants to go back there this weekend. That family that escorted her all those previous weekends will be with her this weekend as well. They've assured me nothing untoward happened at the resort in all the previous visits, and nothing will happen this time either."

Old, crotchety Sarah Miles, Campaign Director of Finance, raised her eyebrows. "All those other visits? This wasn't a one-time only event?"

"Ever since the President mooned us from Spica II." He sighed. "She's quite committed to it, and so are quite a number of her friends."

Everyone's optimism took a swan dive into their coffee cups at that.

Tom continued. "So that leaves us with my reaction last night, 'yes, my daughter is a naturist and we support her'. Now, how do we make it sound like we're not being complete hypocrites?"

The Director of Media Relations was nursing his headache. "We trash the attack ads we've been running, the ones making fun of President Yamashita's newfound naturist tendencies. We replace them with you being caring and fatherly."

Tom cocked an eyebrow. "Any ideas, oh God of News Spin?"

Roger shrugged his shoulders. "We film you, your wife and son visiting Melanie at Shady Acres."