Carlos Fuentes - The Eagle's Throne

But don’t trust chance if you want to destroy Tácito. Chance takes care of itself, so what you and Bernal and I must do is use our will to overcome chance, and govern with well-calculated actions. Never forget that passions are arbitrary forms of conduct. Let Tácito be the one to trust chance and act arbitrarily. The good politician knows how to turn everything into an advantage. Add up the elements yourself: one, your accidental encounter with that archivist, whatever his name is; two, the existence of those documents that were never destroyed; three, Tácito’s signature (I am astonished by that, I admit, and I’m still thinking about it); and four, our friendship, my close relationship with Bernal Herrera, and the political ides that are fast approaching, whether we like it or not.

Add everything up, Nicolás Valdivia, and gauge your time. You are the master of a secret that you’ve shared with me, further confirming the trust I’ve placed in you, which you occasionally seem to doubt or perhaps not reciprocate. It doesn’t matter. Secrets, you know, are our worst political enemies. Look at Mexico, look at Colombia, look at Europe or the United States. Murders, shady business deals, drug trafficking, insider information. Our enemies are united by all these things. And now, the three of us have the good fortune of sharing a secret. You can’t imagine, Nicolás, the number of times when, in my younger years, I trusted friends I believed to be discreet, only to wake up from my innocent illusions to the reality of betrayal and recklessness. You give me back my confidence; you give me friendship.

You, me, and Bernal, united by a secret.

And standing before us, like the cast of a play, are all the others. The man who deceives and hides his true passions: Tácito de la Canal. The man who never lives up to his boastful claims: Andino Almazán. The man who performs his job professionally: Patricio Palafox. The man who only cares about getting rich: Felipe Aguirre. The man who reveals all his vices and hides none of his ambitions: Cícero Arruza. The inscrutable professional soldier who might be playing on more than one side: Mondragón von Bertrab. And then, the most dangerous player of all, the man who collects victims like other people collect stamps: our ex-president César León.

And you and me and Bernal Herrera.

And a president who only wants to make his mark on history.

Let’s help him.

Oh yes, of course, the medium is petty, even despicable. But since we have no other reality but this, the medium is also powerful. And, getting back to my original point, if we want to move around in this medium, this world, we must remember that secrecy is paramount. Sometimes, the information you give and receive can be more useful to your enemy than to your ally. And only when that information comes out do you realize that you should never have disclosed it. Sometimes, you know, I think you’re a bit too naïve. Your heart turns to mush when you deal with humble people — the humiliated secretary, the office worker cheated of her money, the archivist with no hope. . Remember, we weren’t born to live with the poor or to live like the poor. The poor are to be respected. . but from a distance.

I’m serious about this. Never be sincere with a poor person. In exchange you’ll only be treated with egalitarian scorn and that’s something a politician can’t tolerate. Don’t let them, out of the weakness of your sympathetic heart, treat you like an equal. You are not equal to inferior people. You are not. Calculate. Manipulate. If you don’t act astutely, if you betray or disregard our agreement, we’ll be lost and you’ll be lost. That will be the end of your career. And that would frustrate me.

Remember what I promised you. Wait. Calculate.

Darling, my protégé Nicolás Valdivia has served us well. The wolf has fallen into the trap and doesn’t know it yet. Tácito is ours. But he might slip away if we act too hastily. Observe the political panorama that’s taking shape. The evil César León is attempting to convince the president of Congress, Onésimo Canabal, that there’s still time to change the constitution and reform the laws regarding succession in the event of the president’s incapacitation or death.

His idea is that instead of being replaced by an interim president during the first two years in office (which President Terán has already completed) or by an acting president during the last four years in office (the president’s current situation), both of which cases are presently subjected to a vote in both houses of Congress, it should be the president of Congress (in our case, Onésimo Canabal) who automatically assumes the executive’s duties.

What does our ex-president César León want? He doesn’t hold a publicly elected position — and according to his enemies, he never did. He detests Tácito de la Canal. He fears and despises you. But Onésimo is an ass who will let himself be manipulated in a transitional situation. A transition to what? you might ask. I think César León knows something you and I don’t. He has a secret. He’s a born politician, don’t doubt it. The bad thing about him is that he’s like soft wax. He can mold himself into any shape, he can adapt to any new situation or requirement that presents itself. You have to realize, Bernal, that this is a war of secrets. You and I (and, necessarily, Valdivia) have a secret that can bring Tácito down and you to victory. But if we reveal it too soon, Tácito will be able to put together his defense with plenty of time to spare. I think he’d be capable of having you killed. And what do you gain, Bernal, what do you lose, if you talk or if you don’t? It’s a matter of timing. You win if you talk in time. You lose if you talk at the wrong time. I think I have the solution. In a couple of days I’ll fill you in.

P.S. It’s inappropriate for the institution to send bills and notifications to you. In this matter, I should be the only one to appear on the correspondence. No suspicion must fall on you.

I thank you for your letter, madam. And I wonder if the hour of my reward has arrived. I’ve made my love for you clear. You’ve asked me to be worthy, if not of your love, then of your mystery. Does one thing lead to the other? Sometimes you make me wonder if separation unites lovers more than presence. I console myself thinking that love takes on as many different forms, and presents as many different challenges, as any other real feeling. I accept everything from you but indifference. And I wonder if I deserve my prize now: speaking to you in the familiar.

Do you want a reward, my impatient sweetheart? Well, here it is. Bernal Herrera is very impressed with your great exploits. He believes, in addition, that it’s not only useless but dangerous for you to continue working in the office of Tácito de la Canal. He spoke to the president. You’ve been named undersecretary of the interior, second in command to Bernal Herrera.

I repeat. Wait. Calculate. And be grateful.

I want you to know that the time when I steal away from the office to talk to you is the best part of my day. Luckily for me, Mexican public administration comes to a complete halt from three to six in the afternoon, when no self-respecting government bureaucrat would be seen anywhere but in a luxurious restaurant, in a private room, if possible. Always with a cell phone in hand to answer calls with a frown. It’s amazing people don’t break their necks with so much nodding! Now, of course, bereft of all telecommunications, this isn’t possible. Now we’re constantly being pestered by hangers-on who turn up and say things like, “Sir, you have an important message at the door.”