The Collection

'The president is the leader of the Free World.'

'I'm afraid, sir, that that distinction belongs to the Queen of England.'

Crowther was still as calm and unruffled as ever, and there was something unnerving about that. It was under­standable that the butler would try to save his job or the jobs of his friends, it was even conceivable that he would lie in order to accomplish that goal, but this was so bizarre, so far out of left field, that it made no sense. If this was a lie, it was a damn creative one.

If this was a lie?

Adam looked into the butler's eyes.

Yes. If.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, tried to project a confidence he did not really feel. 'We fought and won a war of independence over two hundred years ago,' he said. 'The Declaration of Independence is our seminal national docu­ment.'

'Independence?' The butler laughed. 'America's not in­dependent. That was a PR stunt to placate the natives.'

The rest of the hired help was nodding in agreement.

Adam felt cold. There was nothing to indicate that this was a joke, and the casual, almost nonchalant way in which the butlers and maids were reacting to the whole situation gave everything a boost of verisimilitude. He looked over at Simons for help, but his chief of staff was staring blankly back at him, obviously shaken.

Did Simons believe it?

Yes, he thought. And he did, too. He did not know why, but he knew that Crowther was telling the truth, and as he stared out at the faces of the domestic staff, he felt like the stupidest kid in class, the one who did not catch on to con­cepts until well after everyone else.

His entire worldview and take on history had been in­stantly changed by a meeting with a group of servants he'd intended to fire.

He took a deep breath. 'You're saying we're ... still a colony?'

'Quite right, sir.'

'But independence is the bedrock of our national charac­ter. We pride ourselves on not only our national independ­ence but our personal freedom. Our individuality is what makes us American.'

'And we encourage that. It is why America is our most productive colony.'

Colony.

It was as if all of the air had been vacuumed out of his lungs. He licked his lips, trying to drum up some saliva. He had never been so frightened in his life. Not during his first term as a senator when he'd been broke and read in the newspaper that the staff member with whom he had been having an affair was about to file a multimillion dollar sex­ual harassment suit against him, not when he'd been on the Armed Services committee and a right-wing wacko who had |; threatened his life showed up after hours at his home. He did not know why he was so scared, but he was, and the Oval Office felt suddenly hot, stifling. Five minutes ago, he had intended to keep one of his minor campaign promises to the nation and lay off some members of the White House staff. Now he was cowering before a group of servants, intimi­dated by their unnatural calm, by their proper British ac­cents. He felt powerless, impotent, emasculated, but he forced himself to maintain the facade, to keep up the benev­olent leader demeanor. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I don't believe you.'

'That's perfectly all right, sir. Nixon and Carter had a dif­ficult time believing it as well.' Crowther smiled. 'Ford and Reagan accepted it instantly.'

He couldn't resist. 'Clinton? The Bushes?'

'They all got used to it, sir. As will you.'

'So you're saying the United States is ruled by ... ?'

'The queen.'

'But the queen's a figurehead as well. Britain has a par­liamentary democracy—'

The butler chuckled. 'Parliamentary democracy? No such thing. Again, it keeps the peasants happy, makes them think they're somehow involved. The truth is, the prime minister's like you. A front. It's the queen who runs every­thing. Always has, always will.'

'You're lying.'

'I'm not.'

'I don't accept this. I was elected by a majority of the citizens of the United States to be their leader, and I will not take orders from anyone else.'

'Oh yes you will, sir. You will take your orders from the queen.'

Adam faced the butler. 'And I damn sure won't take any orders from a two-bit monarch with a tabloid—'

'Stop right there, sir.' There was something threatening in the butler's stance now, an intimation of menace in his voice. 'You will bow before the queen and you will most as­suredly submit to her authority.'

'And if I don't?'

'We had Kennedy shot; we can arrange something for you as well.'

There was silence in the Oval Office.

He faced Crowther, trying not to let his nervousness show.'The queen ordered—?'

'The queen had nothing to do with it, sir. It was a deci­sion by the operatives in this country, based on her own best interests. She was never told.' He paused. 'There are a lot of things we have not told the queen.'

'Then you are disloyal.'

'I beg to differ, sir. Sometimes the queen does not realize where her own interests lie. It is our responsibility to deter­mine what is best for her and best for the motherland and carry out those actions to the best of our abilities.'

The butler looked from Adam to Simons. 'I'm sure you two would like to be alone for a while so you can ... absorb all this, so we will leave you in peace.' He motioned with his head and the maid nearest the door opened it. The ser­vants began filing out. 'When would you like to meet again, sir?'

'Never.'

Crowther chuckled. 'Very well. You will let me know.'

He let himself out of the room, closing the door behind him with a flourish that could only be considered mocking.

Adam turned toward his chief of staff. 'So what do you make of that?'

Simons was shaking his head, still not able to speak.

'You think it's true?'

Simons nodded. 'Looks that way.'

'So what do we do?'

'What can we do?'

'Before we can do anything, I need to know the chain of command. Are we going to be simply following orders, or are we going to be given a certain level of autonomy?'

Simons smiled wryly. 'You mean, is the queen a micro-manager?'

Adam snorted. 'The queen. Can you believe this shit? Did you ever, in your wildest fucking dreams, ever think that something like this could happen?'

'What amazes me is the extent of it. They've corrupted our history from its simplest to its most complex level, from grammar school civics to graduate public policy. Every sin­gle person not directly involved in this ... travesty believes the same lie. In all my years in politics, in all my years of public life, I've never even had any suspicions that some­thing like this could be the case.'

'I was a senator for twelve years,' Adam said. 'How do you think I feel, knowing that all of my effort and hard work was merely irrelevant grease for the public relations ma­chine?' He kicked the swivel chair behind his desk. 'Fuck!'

'What are we going to do?' Simons asked.

'I don't know.'

'What do you want to do?'

Adam thought for a moment, looked at him. 'I want,' he said quietly, 'to secure our country's independence.'

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