The Operator was a man of logic and sound of mind. As such, he based his newest proposal on the sturdy foundation of a simple economic principle.
The Pareto principle states that 80% of consequences arise from 20% of causes. In other words, 80% of humanity's victory over the neuroi rested on the back of only 20% of Witches.
A measly 20% of Witches.
If you lined up five witches, only one would be worth the ammunition and plane fuel coming from the pockets of civilians worldwide. The rest would be dead weight.
The Operator was of the belief that it didn't have to be that way.
And The Operator said such a thing with a bravado born from intellectual competence and directed it to the Chief Administrator of the United Nations, Mr. Kurt Waldheim.
The Operator had happened to run into the administrator at an annual banquet for the associates and officials of the United Nations.
The Operator wasn't exactly one of these associates or officials nor was he invited. But he showed up anyway with fake identification to hold up for security. Not only did he show up but he brought a Witch with him.
Maya Watt, a small brunette girl from Britannia with good posture and lightsome eyes. The sketch of freckles around her nose gave The Operator the impression of a scatterplot, one with a positive correlation.
He thought that alone was enough reason to hire her as his personal secretary even if she wasn't especially clever.
If he hadn't taken her from the front lines, she would've been a flight officer and spent the next four years of her life in fear of perishing from a neuroi attack.
But make no mistake, The Operator's choice to hire her wasn't to save her.
She was an advertisement.
A display of what could be the norm of your typical noble. If only they'd listen to his proposal.
And as The Operator intended, she did stand out and catch her fair share of gazes. The Operator insisted that she wear her normal flight uniform to the banquet among men in suits and women in lavish dresses. The cold leather seats would be uncomfortable against bare skin but The Operator knew exactly what he was doing.
Before they had left, Maya had inspected herself in her uniform before the mirror then turned to The Operator to give him a hesitant look. As if she were preparing to tell him something so obvious it would be embarrassing to point out.
"Mr. Operator, are you sure something like this is… presentable. In front of so many people?"
The Operator had been turned away from her and was adjusting his tie. "Are you embarrassed?"
Somehow, he heard her blush. "It's not that, it's just-"
"One day, when you're old enough Ms. Watt, you will realize that no matter what a man says to you or approaches you for when you're wearing that uniform they can't help but have one thing in mind."
The Operator spotted the Chief Administrator early upon arriving at the banquet and snatched the opportunity of taking up the seat next to him. As directed to prior, Maya stood behind The Operator's seat, not unlike a little bodyguard.
"It's a pleasure, this opportunity to speak to you directly Administrator Waldheim." The Operator said. "Just a moment- Maya!" He spoke curtly.
Maya in turn stiffened her posture behind The Operator. A pair of husky ears emerged from the top of her head. And from her backside appeared a tail curved slightly upward like the end of a sickle.
Having her familiar appear was an involuntary nervous tic. At least, that was what The Operator wanted everyone to believe.
It was a calculated effort from The Operator. Many officials of the United Nations haven't seen a Witch's familiar in person before. And once they did, they always referred to it as cute or the like.
The Operator didn't meet her gaze at first when pulling out his cigar from his breast pocket and holding it out for her to light.
But when she enacted the next step of the plan and pretended to fumble around with the box of matches like the small and helpless girl she was, did The Operator turn her way.
When she managed to light the end of the cigar, The Operator remarked: "Maya, you silly gal, your familiar is showing again."
She fake-gasped and threw her hands atop the ears on her head as if to check for herself. Her face grew an apple's shade of red. She was doing a phenomenal job.
Their section of the table became lively with the hearty laughter of UN officials who bared witnessed to their brief scene. And in turn, caught the attention of anyone curious about what had been so funny.
"Oh, Mr. Operator," Maya buried her face in the crook of The Operator's neck in an attempt to hide from the laughter. "How embarrassing."
The Operator chuckled to himself and repeatedly stroked Maya's back down to the base of her tail. "Nonsense, these fine gentlemen think nothing less of you."
Mr. Waldheim rose a brow. "Does that happen often?"
"Quite, it happens whenever she gets nervous. No doubt this room with so many important individuals has gotten her nerves worked up."
"Mr. Operator!" Maya looked at him, making a visible blush once more. And again, the table laughed. Everything had gone according to plan so far.
"She loves being pet as well. As much as she'll tell you otherwise. Something interesting happens when you scratch the right spot behind her ears, Chief Administrator." The Operator gave him a "go ahead" look with just his eyes.
With a bit of hesitation on both Maya and the Administrator's part, The Administrator's calloused palm rubbed the top of Maya's left ear. Maya pretended to like his touch and let out a gasp.
Before the three of them knew it, Maya was leaning close to Administrator Waldheim, sitting closer to him than The Operator at this point, and moaning underneath his petting.
The performance was better than anything the both of them had rehearsed prior. And with it, they had garnered several watching eyes. Practically stealing the show despite having not even been invited to begin with.
"Well, I could certainly get used to this," Waldheim remarked, looking down at Maya with particular interest. It was music to The Operator's ears.
"Heavens knows I have. I don't know what I'd do without Maya to organize my paperwork and telegrams, my, she even cooks for me."
A gentleman sitting next to The Operator peered over and asked: "If you don't mind me asking where and how did you come to meet the little one?"
"How could I forget, I was visiting a base on Britannia. She had stopped her target practice at the range only so she could adjust my collar properly. For the rest of that visit she had been such a dear that I left having forgotten the documentation to came to retrieve."
"Amazing." Someone at the table had remarked.
"My question is," The Operator began. "How is it that more nobles, more government officials don't adopt a similar practice? Seems unfair really."
The group of individuals surrounding the Operator and Maya grew into a subdued frenzy of probing questions and raised brows. One gentleman begged him to elaborate. Another called it nonsense and that humanity needed as many witches on the battlefront as possible.
"Gentleman, gentleman, settle down. Upon further explanation, I will leave no room for ambiguity." The Operator said. "Maya,"
Maya ceased her mild giggling as she used the Administrator's lap for an available seat and stood at once. "Yes, Mr. Operator?"
"Fetch a waiter for me. Ask for a beer, and if they have it, a glass of brandy as well."
"Beer and brandy, sir?" She feigned worry and held her small hands close to her mouth.
Their audience found it humorous.
"And take your time."
"Of course, sir." She made a light bow and was on her way. Several individuals watched her move along until The Operator began with his explanation.
He started with a dense explanation of the Pareto principle, keeping it boring for anyone too dense themselves to see where he was getting at. It was all about contrast. Contrast with the more interesting part of his breakdown.
"Now I propose that instead of leaving 80% on the battlefield to use up resources, we take them somewhere more lucrative. Perhaps to the bedroom of a noble." Nearly the entire table had turned his way.
"Hogwash! All of it!" One said.
"For a price of course." The Operator resumed. "Imagine how much money could be squeezed from the pocket of a noble for his favorite ace to serve as his 'secretary'. He may very well go flat-broke before the war ends."
"That's a genius idea." The Administrator complimented.
"I propose this idea not just for nobles but for the gentlemen sitting at the table as well. Surely some of you have your eye on one witch or another. How could you not? Wouldn't it be a dream come true to have that same witch waiting for you in your office?"
The table went dead silent. Like The Operator wanted, their minds collectively stirred with fantasies soon to come true.
There was not one person in the room against The Operator's proposal once he left the banquet.
The Operator afterward had been invited to seventeen consecutive UN meetings. He became an honorary official of the United Nations upon his third visit and only worked his way up from there.
It would take three months later before The Noble Ministration Program or "Operation: Pareto" finally came into fruition.