Strike!

 The Minister stepped out off the front steps of the white-stone-clad administrative building and dodged a couple of hurled eggs expertly.  A black-clad assistant held the door to an expensive, sleek grey car open and the Minister slipped inside with practiced ease.  As the door closed another egg shattered against the window and the assistant took out a cloth and wiped it away, taking care to erase all the smears as well.

"What was that about?" asked the woman who was already in the car.  She was dressed smartly but in an old-fashioned way, as though she was depending on her clothes for warmth even indoors, and smelled of cats and mould.  The Minister smiled and chose to discreetly breathe through his mouth.

"Protestors," he said.  "We allow a few through at any given time so long as they're mostly harmless.  If they're carrying actual weapons they're usually stopped."

"Usually?"  The woman arched an eyebrow and a faint frostfall of powder fell from her face.

"If the weapon is clearly archaic or defunct we let them through for fun," said the Minister.  "The papers love it and it makes the protestors feel like they're outsmarting us."

"I see," said the woman.  The car moved smoothly off, pulling into the traffic and quickly becoming just another element of the flow. "Do we want to encourage them?"

"Yes," said the Minister.  "If they have these outlets then they don't start looking for others.  They won't start bombing places, or trying to get hold of guns and being... well, American about things."

"Your prejudices are showing," said the woman.  She smiled and there was another frostfall of white powder.  "Where are we going today?"

"First stop is the Trade Union," said the Minister.  "They have a building -- grotty thing, brutalist architecture as you might imagine, sat right next to a much more elegant hotel.  We have a couple of agents in the hotel, naturally, as despite their socialist rhetoric they like to put their visitors and officials up in it.  And it's not cheap either."

"You?  Concerned about cheap?"

"Well, only inasmuch as I don't like it when people who claim I have too much money start spending it like water and pretending there's a difference."

The woman smiled again. "You're starting to sound like you might have a conscience budding there," she said.  "Do keep an eye on it, won't you?"

The Minister stifled a laugh.

"So you're going to negotiate with them?"

"No," he said.  "We're going to pretend to negotiate with them and encourage them to strike harder.  And as soon as they do, we'll release the details of the package they've turned down and make them look like petty gougers and con-men."

"Will that end the strikes?"

"I doubt it.  But it will damage their grass-roots support, and this is a long-term strategy to get rid of the unions for good."

The woman looked out of the window.  "Over winter?  People are freezing."

"Survival of the fittest, my dear.  After winter only those people who can tolerate hardship adequately will be left.  The country is improving its breeding stock."