«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
Rog chewed his cigar, then said, «All right, I'm not asking you.»
«
«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
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
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
«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
«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.
I saw then that Bill was at the far end of the table.
But I looked around the room as usual and said, «Good morning, gentlemen.»
«Good morning, Mr. Minister!» most of them answered.
I added, «Good morning, Bill. Didn't know you were here. Whom are you representing?»
They gave him dead silence to reply. Every one of them knew that Bill had quit us — or had been fired. He grinned at me, and answered, «Good morning,
I knew it was coming then; I tried not to give him the satisfaction of letting it show. «A fine outfit. I hope they are paying you what you are worth. Now to business — The written questions first. You have them, Penny?»
I went rapidly through the written questions, giving out answers I had already had time to think over, then sat back as usual and said, «We have time to bat it around a bit, gentlemen. Any other questions?»
There were several. I was forced to answer «No comment» only once — an answer Bonforte preferred to an ambiguous one. Finally I glanced at my watch and said, «That will be all this morning, gentlemen,» and started to stand up.
«Smythe!» Bill shouted.
I kept right on getting to my feet, did not look toward him.
«I mean you, Mr. Phony Bonforte-Smythe!» he went on angrily, raising his voice still more.
This time I did look at him, with astonishment — just the amount appropriate, I think, to an important official subjected to rudeness under unlikely conditions. Bill was pointing at me and his face was red. «You imposter! You small-time actor! You
The London
I said, «No. He's harmless.»
Bill laughed. «So I'm harmless, huh? You'll find out.»
«I really think I should, sir,» the
«No.» I then said sharply, «That's enough, Bill. You had better leave quietly.»
«Don't you wish I would?» He started spewing forth the basic story, talking rapidly. He made no mention of the kidnapping and did not mention his own part in the hoax, but implied that he had left us rather than be mixed up in any such swindle. The impersonation was attributed, correctly as far as it went, to illness on the part of Bonforte — with a strong hint that we might have doped him.
I listened patiently. Most of the reporters simply listened at first, with that stunned expression of outsiders
