Robert Heinlein - Double Star

I felt like shouting at them, and only the imposed calm personality of Bonforte kept me from it. I had had a hard day and, despite a brilliant performance, the inevitable disaster had overtaken me. I wanted to tell Rog that if Willem had not been a really big man, kingly in the fine sense of the word, we would all be in the soup — simply because I had not been adequately coached for the role. Instead I answered sourly, «It's done and that's that.»

Corpsman said, «That's what you think! I gave out the correct list to the reporters two hours ago. Now you've got to go back and straighten it out. Rog, you had better call the Palace right away and — »

I said, «Quiet!»

Corpsman shut up. I went on in a lower key. «Rog, from a legal point of view, you may be right. I wouldn't know. I do know that the Emperor felt free to question the appointment of Braun. Now if either one of you wants to go to the Emperor and argue with him, that's up to you. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to get out of this anachronistic strait jacket, take my shoes off, and have a long, tall drink. Then I'm going to bed.»

«Now wait, Chief.» Clifton objected. «You've got a five-minute spot on grand network to announce the new cabinet.»

You take it. You're first deputy in this cabinet.»

He blinked. «All right.»

Corpsman said insistently, «How about Braun? He was promised the job.»

Clifton looked at him thoughtfully. «Not in any dispatch that I saw, Bill. He was simply asked if he was willing to serve, like all the others. Is that what you meant?»

Corpsman hesitated like an actor not quite sure of his lines. «Of course. But it amounts to a promise.»

«Not until the public announcement is made, it doesn't.»

«But the announcement was made, I tell you. Two hours ago.»

«Mmm ... Bill, I'm afraid that you will have to call the boys in again and tell them that you made a mistake. Or I'll call them in and tell them that through an error a preliminary list was handed out before Mr. Bonforte had okayed it. But we've got to correct it before the grand network announcement.»

«Do you mean to tell me you are going to let him get away with it?»

By «him» I think Bill meant me rather than Willem, but Rog's answer assumed the contrary. «Yes. Bill, this is no time to force a constitutional crisis. The issue isn't worth it. So will you phrase the retraction? Or shall I?»

Corpsman's expression reminded me of the way a cat submits to the inevitable — «just barely.» He looked grim, shrugged, and said, «I'll do it. I want to be damned sure it is phrased properly, so we can salvage as much as possible out of the shambles.»

«Thanks, Bill,» Rog answered mildly.

Corpsman turned to leave. I called out, «Bill! As long as you are going to be talking to the news service I have another announcement for them.»

«Huh? What are you after now?»

«Nothing much.» The fact was I was suddenly overcome with weariness at the role and tensions it created. «Just tell them that Mr. Bonforte has a cold and his physician has ordered him to bed for a rest. I've had a bellyfull.»

Corpsman snorted. «I think I'll make it “pneumonia.”»

«Suit yourself.»

When he had gone Rog turned to me and said, «Don't let it get you, Chief. In this business some days are better than others.»

«Rog, I really am going on the sick list. You can mention it on stereo tonight.»

«So?»

«I'm going to take to my bed and stay there. There is no reason at all why Bonforte can't “have a cold” until he is ready to get back into harness himself. Every time I make an appearance it just increases the probability that somebody will spot something wrong — and every time I do make an appearance that sorehead Corpsman finds something to yap about. An artist can't do his best work with somebody continually snarling at him. So let's let it go at this and ring down the curtain.»

«Take it easy, Chief. I'll keep Corpsman out of your hair from now on. Here we won't be in each other's laps the way we were in the ship.»

«No, Rog, my mind is made up. Oh, I won't run out on you. I'll stay here until Mr. B. is able to see people, in case some utter emergency turns up» — I was recalling uneasily that the Emperor had told me to hang on and had assumed that I would — «but it is actually better to keep me out of sight. At the moment we have gotten away with it completely, haven't we? Oh, they know — somebody knows — that Bonforte was not the man who went through the adoption ceremony — but they don't dare raise that issue, nor could they prove it if they did. The same people may suspect that a double was used today, but they don't know, they can't be sure — because it is always possible that Bonforte recovered quickly enough to carry if off today. Right?»

Clifton got an odd, half-sheepish look on his face. «I'm afraid they are fairly sure you were a double, Chief.»

«Eh?»

«We shaded the truth a little to keep from being nervous. Doc Capek was certain from the time he first examined him that only a miracle could get him in shape to make the audience today. The people who dosed him would know that too.»

I frowned. «Then you were kidding me earlier when you told me how well he was doing? How is he, Rog? Tell me the truth.»

«I was telling you the truth that time, Chief. That's why I suggested that you see him — whereas before I was only too glad to string along with your reluctance to see him.» He added, «Perhaps you had better see him, talk with him.»

«Mmmm — no.» The reasons for not seeing him still applied; if I did have to make another appearance I did not want my subconscious playing me tricks. The role called for a well man. «But, Rog, everything I said applies still more emphatically on the basis of what you have just told me. If they are even reasonably sure that a double was used today, then we don't dare risk another appearance. They were caught by surprise today — or perhaps it was impossible to unmask me, under the circumstances. But it will not be later. They can rig some deadfall, some test that I can't pass — then blooey! There goes the old ball game.» I thought about it. «I had better be “sick” as long as necessary. Bill was right; it had better be “pneumonia.”»

Such is the power of suggestion that I woke up the next morning with a stopped-up nose and a sore throat. Dr. Capek took time to dose me and I felt almost human by suppertime; nevertheless, he issued bulletins about «Mr. Bonforte's virus infection.» The sealed and air-conditioned cities of the Moon being what they are, nobody was anxious to be exposed to an airvectored ailment; no determined effort was made to get past my chaperones. For four days I loafed and read from Bonforte's library, both his own collected papers and his many books ... I discovered that both politics and economics could make engrossing reading; those subjects had never been real to me before. The Emperor sent me flowers from the royal greenhouse — or were they for me?

Never mind. I loafed and soaked in the luxury of being Lorenzo, or even plain Lawrence Smith. I found that I dropped back into character automatically if someone came in, but I can't help that. It was not necessary; I saw no one but Penny and Capek, except for one visit from Dak.

But even lotus-eating can pall. By the fourth day I was as tired of that room as I had ever been of a producer's waiting room and I was lonely. No one bothered with me; Capek's visits had been brisk and professional, and Penny's visits had been short and few. She had stopped calling me «Mr. Bonforte.»

When Dak showed up I was delighted to see him. «Dak! What's new?»

«Not much. I've been trying to get the Tommie overhauled with one hand while helping Rog with political chores with the other. Getting this campaign lined up is going to give him ulcers, three gets you eight.» He sat down. «Politics!»