When Rog and Dak came in I was working on a speech and had told Penny to hold off anything but five-alarm fires. Quiroga had made a wild statement in Sydney, Australia, the night before, of such a nature that we could expose the lie and make him squirm. I was trying my hand at a speech in answer, without waiting for a draft to be handed me; I had high hopes of getting my own version approved.
When they came in I said, «Listen to this,» and read them the key paragraph. «How do you like it?»
«That ought to nail his hide to the door,» agreed Rog. «Here's the “safe” list, Chief. Want to look it over? We're due there in twenty minutes.»
«Oh, that damned meeting. I don't see why I should look at the list. Anything you want to tell me about it?» Nevertheless, I took the list and glanced down it. I knew them all from their Farleyfiles and a few of them from contact; I knew already why each one had to be taken care of.
Then I struck the name: Corpsman, William J.
I fought down what I felt was justifiable annoyance and said quietly, «I see Bill is on the list, Rob.»
«Oh, yes. I wanted to tell you about that. You see, Chief, as we all know, there has been a certain amount of bad blood between you and Bill. Now I'm not blaming you; it's been Bill's fault. But there are always two sides. What you may not have realized is that Bill has been carrying around a tremendous inferiority feeling; it gives him a chip on the shoulder. This will fix it up.»
«So?»
«Yes. It is what he has always wanted. You see, the rest of us all have official status, we're members of the G.A., I mean. I'm talking about those who work closely around, uh, you. Bill feels it. I've heard him say, after the third drink, that he was just a hired man. He's bitter about it. You don't mind, do you? The Party can afford it and it's an easy price to pay for elimination of friction at headquarters.»
I had myself under full control by now. «It's none of my business. Why should I mind, if that is what Mr. Bonforte wants?»
I caught just a flicker of a glance from Dak to Clifton. I added, «That is what Mr. B. wants? Isn't it, Rog?»
Dak said harshly, «Tell him, Rog.»
Rog said slowly, «Dak and I whipped this up ourselves. We think it is for the best.»
«Then Mr. Bonforte did not approve it? You asked him, surely?»
«No, we didn't.»
«Why not?»
«Chief, this is not the sort of thing to bother him with. He's a tired, old, sick man. I have not been worrying him with anything less than major policy decisions — which this isn't. It is a district we command no matter who stands for it.»
«Then why ask my opinion about it at all?»
«Well, we felt you should know — and know why. We think you ought to approve it.»
«Me? You're asking me for a decision as if I were Mr. Bonforte. I'm not.» I tapped the desk in his nervous gesture. «Either this decision is at his level, and you should ask him — or it's not, and you should never have asked me. »
Rog chewed his cigar, then said, «All right, I'm not asking you.»
« No! »
«What do you mean?»
«I mean “No!” You did ask me; therefore there is doubt in your mind. So if you expect me to present that name to the committee — as if I were Bonforte — then go in and ask him.»
They both sat and said nothing. Finally Dak sighed and said, «Tell the rest, Rog. Or I will.»
I waited. Clifton took his cigar out of his mouth and said, «Chief, Mr. Bonforte had a stroke four days ago. He's in no shape to be disturbed.»
I held still, and recited to myself all of “the cloudcapp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,” and so forth. When I was back in shape I said, «How is his mind?»
«His mind seems clear enough, but he is terribly tired. That week as a prisoner was more of an ordeal than we realized. The stroke left him in a coma for twenty-four hours. He's out of it now, but the left side of his face is paralyzed and his entire left side is partly out of service.»
«Uh, what does Dr. Capek say?»
«He thinks that as the clot clears up, you'll never be able to tell the difference. But he'll have to take it easier than he used to. But, Chief, right now he is ill. We'll just have to carry on through the balance of the campaign without him.»
I felt a ghost of the lost feeling I had had when my father died. I had never seen Bonforte, I had had nothing from him but a few scrawled corrections on typescript. But I leaned on him all the way. The fact that he was in that room next door had made the whole thing possible.
I took a long breath, let it out, and said, «Okay, Rog. We'll have to.»
«Yes, Chief.» He stood up. «We've got to get over to that meeting. How about that? » He nodded toward the safe-districts list.
«Oh.» I tried to think. Maybe it was possible that Bonforte would reward Bill with the privilege of calling himself «the Honorable,» just to keep him happy. He wasn't small about such things; he did not bind the mouths of the kine who tread the grain. In one of his essays on politics he had said, «I am not an intellectual man. If I have any special talent, it lies in picking men of ability and letting them work.»
«How long has Bill been with him?» I asked suddenly.
«Eh? About four years. A little over.»
Bonforte evidently had liked his work. «That's past one general election, isn't it? Why didn't he make him an Assemblyman then?»
«Why, I don't know. The matter never came up.»
'When was Penny put in?»
«About three years ago. A by-election.»
«There's your answer, Rog.»
«I don't follow you.»
«Bonforte could have made Bill a Grand Assemblyman at any time. He didn't choose to. Change that nomination to a “resigner.” Then if Mr. Bonforte wants Bill to have it, he can arrange a by-election for him later — when he's feeling himself.»
Clifton showed no expression. He simply picked up the list and said, «Very well, Chief.»
Later that same day Bill quit. I suppose Rog had to tell him that his arm-twisting had not worked. But when Rog told me about it I felt sick, realizing that my stiff-necked attitude had us all in acute danger. I told him so. He shook his head.
«But he knows it all! It was his scheme from the start. Look at the load of dirt he can haul over to the Humanity camp.»
«Forget it, Chief. Bill may be a louse — I've no use for a man who will quit in the middle of a campaign; you just don't do that, ever. But he is not a rat. In his profession you don't spill a client's secrets, even if you fall out with him.»
«I hope you are right.»
«You'll see. Don't worry about it. Just get on with the job.»
As the next few days passed I came to the conclusion that Rog knew Bill better than I did. We heard nothing from him or about him and the campaign went ahead as usual, getting rougher all the time, but with not a peep to show that our giant hoax was compromised. I began to feel better and buckled down to making the best Bonforte speeches I could manage — sometimes with Rog's help; sometimes just with his okay. Mr. Bonforte was steadily improving again, but Capek had him on absolute quiet.
Rog had to go to Earth during the last week; there are types of fence-mending that simply can't be done by remote control. After all, votes come from the precincts and the field managers count for more than the speechmakers. But speeches still had to be made and press conferences given; I carried on, with Dak and Penny at my elbow — of course I was much more closely with it now; most questions I could answer without stopping to think.
There was the usual twice-weekly press conference in the offices the day Rog was due back. I had been hoping that he would be back in time for it, but there was no reason I could not take it alone. Penny walked in ahead of me, carrying her gear; I heard her gasp.
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