Empire

“All that bullshit you told me, it was pretty good,” said the guardsman. “But I saw you reconnoitering up there. I knew what I was looking at.”

“And you made sure you were alone when you inspected my truck.”

“Had to know how things were,” said the guardsman. “But there was a guy on the news a month ago. He said, If somebody tells you to point your gun at a guy just doing his job, then you point it at the guy gave the order.”

Cole felt himself blushing. Damn. Had the guy recognized him? A month later? With a stubbly beard and darker hair and in civilian clothes? Or did it just happen that Cole’s words on O’Reilly made an impression that stuck with the guy, and he didn’t recognize him now at all?

“Glad you watched that program,” said Cole.

The knot was tied.

“Long way to go?” said the guardsman. “I’m betting it isn’t downtown Pasco.”

“A little farther than that,” said Cole.

They pushed the ramp back up under the truck together. Then the guardsman held out his hand. “Appreciate your cooperation, sir.”

“Thanks,” said Cole. “Pleasure to know you.”

Cole walked back to the cab as the guardsman went back to Jeff, who had just waved on a third car. “So you’re not unloading it?” asked Jeff.

“I could see clear to the front,” said the guardsman. “No reason to ruin this guy’s day.”

Cole started the engine and closed the door. He gave a little wave to the guardsman.

The guardsman returned a little hint of a salute and said, “Godspeed.”

Appointment

The problem with elections is that anybody who wants an office badly enough to run for it probably shouldn’t have it. And anybody who does not want an office badly enough to run for it probably shouldn’t have it, either. Government office should be received like a child’s Christmas present, with surprise and delight. Instead it is usually received like a diploma, an anticlimax that never seems worth the struggle to earn it.

It was a surprise press conference—only an hour’s notice—and nobody in the President’s staff knew what it was even about. He hadn’t even told Sandy—or if he did, her slightly irritated shrug when Cecily shot her a questioning glace was a very convincing cover-up.

As President Nielson approached the lectern, Cecily remembered ruefully that one thing LaMonte had always been good at was keeping a secret. He subscribed to the old adage that once you tell somebody—anybody—it’s not a secret anymore. She tried to guess what was going on by seeing who shared the stage with him in the auditorium, but since it consisted of all the cabinet members who were in Gettysburg at the time, plus the House and Senate majority and minority leaders, it was clearly a big deal. They, at least, must know what was going on.

Oh. There was Donald Porter. They must have reached an agreement on letting him be confirmed.

“Thank you for coming on short notice,” said President Nielson. “Yesterday my good friend Donald Porter came to me and we had a good long conversation. At the end of the hour, it seemed clear that I could not dissuade him from his decision to withdraw his name from nomination to be the Vice President of the United States.”

LaMonte went on about Porter’s years of service, but Cecily knew positive spin when she heard it. It was clear that the impasse with Congress over Porter’s confirmation had become a serious barrier to getting anything done, not to mention a hazard to the country, since the United States was currently without either a Vice President or a Speaker of the House, making the eighty-four-year-old Senator Stevens the next in line. Nobody liked that situation, least of all Stevens himself, who had even less interest in acquiring the presidency than LaMonte Nielson had had.

So there had been a compromise, and it involved Porter walking away. From everything—since his successor at State, Sarkissian, had already been confirmed, and no SecDef nominee could get past Congress, there was no government job open to Porter at the moment, and little likelihood that he would be confirmed even if there were. So he had suddenly acquired a strong wish to retire from public life, possibly to write and teach.

The real question, though, was whom President Nielson would tap as his new Vice Presidential nominee. He must have discussed it with the leaders of both parties, and they must have agreed, or they would not be sharing the podium right now. Was it somebody on stage, or someone waiting in the wings? It was hard to imagine any of the cabinet officers being acceptable. Was it one of the majority leaders?

“As you know, this office was thrust upon me by the Constitution and the action of enemies of this country. I did not seek it. I had spent my public career as a strong partisan, willing to compromise with members of the opposition party, but always aware of which side I was on.

“What America needs right now is not to take sides. Not a Republican or a Democrat, but a Vice President who can symbolize and represent national unity—America at its best, without division, without rancor, and with the full support of both parties in Congress.

“That naturally means reaching outside the two-party system, outside of the ranks of those who have sought public office. Over the past three years, starting as a frequent consultant to the National Security Adviser, then a full-time aide, and finally for the past month as the National Security Adviser, Averell Torrent has established a brilliant record of public service in a time of national crisis.

“I have never asked him if he was a Republican or a Democrat. I have never needed to. He is a loyal servant of the Constitution and of all the people of this country. I have come to rely on his wise counsel. It is no disrespect to the others who have held the office of the Vice President of the United States to say that it is my firm belief that it has never been held by a person of such wisdom, such intellect, and such a vast breadth and depth of knowledge.

“In some ways, the vice-presidency is a thankless office. But under recent Presidents, the Vice President has been relied on more and more to oversee ever-more-important aspects of government. It is with the full and, dare I say, enthusiastic approval of the leaders of both parties in both houses of Congress that I assure you that I will continue that practice and expand upon it. When he is confirmed, Averell Torrent will be a part of every decision I make as President—in fact, he already is—and he will have far-reaching authority of his own, under my direction of course—in fact, he already does.”

With that, President Nielson beckoned Torrent up to the lectern to make a short statement of acceptance—he said almost nothing, keeping his demeanor grave and managing to wear an expression of benign puzzlement, rather like someone who has been given a very lavish gift but didn’t really need it and has no idea where to put it.

Then the party leaders in Congress came forward and they started taking questions. Torrent was deferent— his answers were brief and almost invariably referred the questioner to the President or to the Congressmen.

But to Cecily, it looked like a tour-de-force performance. He wasn’t playing to the room, he was playing to the camera. His voice was quiet and steady, his face calm, his expression pleasant enough, but full of dignity.

He’s running for President already, thought Cecily. He’s creating in image that the voters want to see. He could not have placed himself better. The consensus choice of both parties in Congress. Appointed in order to bring all factions of the country together. Young but not too young. Attractive, intelligent, but not bookish or aloof. Look at him laugh at LaMonte’s little jest. Natural, easy laughter, his whole face involved in the smile.The twinkle in the eyes. But not so handsome he doesn’t look real. Not so brilliant he doesn’t look approachable. He’s never run for office but he knows how to create an image and he’s creating it.

Was it even possible for him to run? Of course it was. It was nearly August, but both political conventions had been postponed in the wake of Friday the Thirteenth. The Democratic convention would be first, in mid-August; the Republican convention right before Labor Day. The Democrats had their likely candidate, who had been about to announce her choice for vice-presidential nominee when the assassinations happened; she had held off since then because it was hard to know, until things settled down, how people would perceive candidates who were strongly