Rising Storm

Dieter waited, letting her think it over. 'Have you ever been to Tierra del Fuego?'

'Of course not, darling!' she said, and laughed. 'It's not exactly a spa, is it?'

'There's nowhere else on earth quite like it,' von Rossbach assured her.

'Sweetie, there's a whole lot of pissholes on this planet that could make the same claim. That doesn't mean I want to visit them.' She gave a deep sigh. 'All right.

Where and when?'

'Ushuaia,' he said, 'it's the capital. Two weeks from today?'

'I'll be there,' she said. 'This had better be one very good dinner, baby.'

'I'll make sure of it,' he promised. 'Will you be staying at a hotel, or…?'

'I'll be on the yacht, of course, dear. That's what it's for, to protect me from bad hotels. See you then.' She made the smacking sound of a big kiss and hung up.

Dieter depressed the receiver button and began dialing the restaurant that the travel agency had recommended. I hope this place lives up to its reputation, he thought. He didn't want to have to make up for bad food.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT

Ron Labane entered Hartford feeling good. Not even the general atmosphere of industrial decay—the abandoned mills, some converted to glitzy malls, and the

tract housing from the vanished heyday of the textile factories—could depress him. He'd turned the radio to a classic-rock station, and tapped out the rhythm of

'Dreamboat Annie' as he drove.

Things were moving along better and faster than he'd ever anticipated. There were now two Eco Party U.S. senators and eight congressmen in Washington and a lot more who were state representatives, five Eco Party governors: two on the West Coast, three on the East.

Ten years ago they were nothing.

It was a thrill to realize that the United States at last had a three-party system and that, in large part, it was due to his influence. The New Day show, the books, the clubs, the new magazine, all of these had changed the attitudes of millions of Americans. All because of his grand vision.

Ron grinned. He felt better than good; he felt invincible. Just before heading out for his speaking engagement at II. Mass, he'd gotten a surprise visit from Eco Party chairman Sebastion MacMillan and his closest associates. He felt a surge of pure pleasure as he remembered the meeting.

NEW YORK

'Mr. Labane,' MacMillan said, 'I realize that this is short notice, but I hope you can spare us a few moments of your time.'

Ron looked at the professorial gentleman at his door in surprise, and at his three associates. Then he smiled.

'Come in,' he said, stepping aside and gesturing into his austere yet elegant

apartment with its handcrafted third-world textiles and slight odor of organic sachet. 'Can I take your coats?'

'No, no, we won't be staying that long.' The chairman took note of Ron's small suitcase. 'And you're going somewhere, I see.'

'Yes, Amherst, up in Massachusetts. I'm speaking at the university there.' He chuckled deprecatingly. 'I don't want to get the reputation of only speaking to the Ivy League.'

The three men and one woman looked at him as though he'd said something profound. 'Your egalitarianism is one of the reasons we want to speak to you,'

MacMillan said.

'Sit down, please,' Ron invited, and led them into the living room.

He looked them over as they took their seats. The rumor was that the chairman had sent around copies of Dress for Success as soon as he'd taken over and had demanded that everyone in any position of authority make it their bible.

Undoubtedly it had helped. These people had always looked intelligent; now they also looked professional and therefore trustworthy. Ron looked over and met MacMillan's eye.

This is someone I could work with, he thought. He made a mental note to invite him onto the show.

'I'll get right to the point,' the chairman said. 'In ten months one of New York's senators will be leaving Washington for good. We'd like you to be our candidate for that office.'

Ron was genuinely stunned. He'd assumed that they wanted him to do something for them. It seemed it was the other way around.

MacMillan smiled warmly at him. 'I've studied your career, Mr. Labane. It seems to me that the logical next step for you is public office. Your genuine dedication to ecological causes is both unselfish and unquestionable. To the general public you're a hero; to those of us involved with the cause you're a leader. We'd like to take that a step further and make you a leader with power.'

The chairman pulled his briefcase onto his lap and extracted a slim file. 'The party ran a straw poll to see how the idea of you as our candidate struck people.'

He held out the file and Labane took it. Ron glanced at the other party members, who all nodded, smiling; then he opened the file. After a moment he looked up at the chairman, astounded.

MacMillan smiled comfortably. 'We've never had a result like that when we've floated a name.' He shook his head. 'As you can see we didn't restrict the poll to party members either. If you ran on our ticket today you'd be elected. In a landslide.'

Ron smiled and shook his head, then he blew his breath out in a whistle. He laughed, he couldn't help it. 'This is very flattering.'

'Don't answer tonight.' The chairman held up his hand. 'We know you'll want to think about it. After all, this would be a big step.'

He rose and the others followed suit. Taking a step forward, MacMillan held out

his hand. Belatedly Ron rose to take it.

'All we ask is that you consider it seriously. I honestly think that now is the time.'

Ron shook the chairman's hand. 'I'll certainly give it some thought,' he said.

'I'm caught completely flat-footed here, I'—He shook his head helplessly

—'honestly don't know what to say.'

'I'm hoping you'll say yes,' MacMillan said, smiling. He started slowly for the door. 'In a few years I think this country will be ready for a presidential candidate from our party.' He put his hand on Labane's shoulder. 'We need to do everything that we can to make that day a reality.'

He stopped and smiled at Ron.

'That would certainly be a wonderful day for this country,' Ron said, his head whirling. I'm already sounding like a politician, he thought.

The chairman grinned as though he shared the thought. 'Our contact information is in the file.' MacMillan held out his hand again and Ron shook it. 'Good night.'

'Good night,' Ron said.

The other three party members filed out behind the chairman, each offering his or her hand for a firm handshake, making eye contact and saying a polite good-bye that implied great pleasure in their brief acquaintance.

After closing the door behind them, Ron simply sat down on the chair in the

foyer and stared at nothing.

No, not at nothing: into the future.

HARTFORD

A very pleasant memory. Even sitting down driving, Ron felt ten feet tall. The numbers had indicated that he would be the near-unanimous choice of New York voters.