the memorandum to Kennedy.
On the TV screen, by a margin far exceeding the necessary two thirds, the Congress had just voted to impeach President Francis Xavier Kennedy.
Friday 6 A. M.
Sherhaben
IT WAS moo P.m., Thursday, Washington time, but six in the morning in
Sherhaben, when the Sultan had everyone summoned to the terraced reception room for an early breakfast. The Americans-Bert Audick and Arthur Wix-arrived shortly. Yabril was escorted in by the Sultan. A huge table was laden with countless fruits and beverages, both hot and cold.
Sultan Maurobi was smiling broadly. He did not introduce Yabril to the Americans and there was no pretense of any courtesy.
The Sultan said, 'I am happy to announce-more than that, my heart overflows with joy-that my friend Yabril has agreed to the release of your hostages. There will be no further demands from him and I hope no further demands from your country.'
Arthur Wix, his face beaded with sweat, said, 'I cannot negotiate or change in any way the demands of my President. You must give up this murderer.'
The Sultan smiled and said, 'He is no longer your President. The American Congress has voted to impeach him. I am informed that the orders to bomb the city of Dak have already been canceled. The hostages will be freed, you have your victory. There is nothing else you can ask.'
Yabril felt a great rush of energy go through his body-he had brought about the impeachment the President of the United States. He stared into Wix's eyes and saw the hatred there. This was the highest man in the mightiest army on the face of the globe, and he, Yabril, had defeated him. For a moment his mind held the image of himself pressing the gun against the silky hair of Theresa Kennedy. He remembered again that sense of loss, of regret, when he pulled the trigger, the little bum of anguish as her body tumbled away in the desert air. He bowed his head to Wix and the other men in the room.
The Sultan Maurobi motioned for the servants to bring platters of fruit and drink to his guests. Arthur Wix put down his glass and said, 'Are you sure that your information that the President has been impeached is absolutely correct?'
The Sultan said, 'I will arrange for you to speak directly to your office in the United States.' He paused. 'But first, I have my duty as a host.'
The Sultan commanded they must have one last full meal together, and insisted that the final arrangements for the release of the hostages be made over this meal. Yabril took his place at the right hand of the Sultan, Arthur Wix on the left.
They were resting on the divans along the low table when the Sultan's prime minister came hurrying in and begged the Sultan to come into the other room for a few moments. The Sultan was impatient, until finally the prime minister whispered something into his ear. The Sultan raised his eyebrows in surprise and then said to his guests, 'Something has happened quite unforeseen. All communication to the United States has been cut off, not just to us, but all over the world. Please continue your breakfast while I confer with my staff.'
But after the Sultan left, the men around the table did not speak. Only
Yabril helped himself to the food.
The Americans moved away from the table to go to the terrace. The servants brought them cool drinks. Yabril continued to eat.
Bert Audick said to Wix, 'I hope Kennedy hasn't done something foolish. I hope he hasn't tried to buck the Constitution.'
Wix said, 'God, first his daughter, now he's lost his country. All because of that little prick in there eating like a fucking beggar.'
Audick said, 'It is terrible, all of it.' Then he went inside and said to
Yabril, 'Eat well, I hope you have a good place to hide in the years to come. There will be a lot of people looking for you.'
Yabril laughed. He had finished eating and was lighting a cigarette. 'Oh, yes,' he said. 'I will be a beggar in Jerusalem.'
At that moment the Sultan Maurobi came into the room. He was followed by at least fifty armed men, who stationed themselves to command the room. Four of them stood behind Yabril. Four others stood behind the Americans on the terrace. There was surprise and shock on the Sultan's face. His skin seemed yellow, his eyes were wide open, the eyelids seemed to fold back. 'Gentlemen,' he said haltingly, 'my dear sirs, this will be as incredible to you as it is to me.
The Congress has annulled their vote impeaching Kennedy and he has declared martial law.' He paused and let his hand rest on Yabril's shoulder. 'And, gentlemen, at this moment planes from the American Sixth Fleet are destroying my city of Dak.'
Arthur Wix asked almost jubilantly, 'The city of Dak is being bombed?'
'Yes,' the Sultan said. 'A barbaric act but a convincing one.'
They were all looking at Yabril, who now had four armed men very closely surrounding him. Yabril said thoughtfully, 'Finally I will see America, it has always been my dream.' He looked at the Americans but spoke to the Sultan. 'I think I would have been a great success in America.'
'Without a doubt,' the Sultan said. 'Part of the demand is that I deliver you alive. I'm afraid I must give the necessary orders so that you do not harm yourself'
Yabril said, 'America is a civilized country. I will go through a legal process that will be long and drawn out, since I will have the best lawyers. Why should I harm myself? It will be a new experience, and who knows what can happen? The world always changes. America is too civilized for torture, and besides I have endured torture under the Israelis, so nothing will surprise me.' He smiled at Wix.
Wix said quietly, 'As you once observed, the world changes. You haven't succeeded. You won't be such a hero.'
Yabril laughed delightedly. His arms went up in an exuberant gesture. 'I have succeeded,' he almost shouted. 'I've torn your world off its axis. Do you think your mealymouthed idealism will be listened to after your planes have destroyed the city of Dak? When will the world forget my name? And do you think I will step off the stage now when the best is yet to come?'
The Sultan clapped his hands and shouted an order to the soldiers. They grabbed Yabril and put handcuffs on his wrists and rope around his neck.
'Gently, gently,' the Sultan said. When Yabril was secure he touched him gently on the forehead. He said, 'I beg your forgiveness, I have no choice. I have oil to sell and a city to rebuild. I wish you well, old friend. Good luck in America.'
Thursday Night
NewYork Cily
AS CONGRESS IMPEACHED President Francis Xavier Kennedy, as the world awaited the resolution of the terrorist crisis, there were many hundreds of thousands of people in New York who didn't give a flying fuck. They had their own lives to lead and their own problems. This mild spring night many of these thousands converged in the Times Square area of New York
City, a place that had once been the very heart of the greatest city in the world, where once The Great White Way, Broadway itself, ran down from Central Park to Times Square.
These people had varied interests. Horny suburban middle-class men haunted the adult pornographic bookshops. Cineastes surveyed miles of film of naked men and naked women indulging themselves in the most intimate sexual acts with varied animals in best-friend character roles. Teenaged gangs with lethal but legal screwdrivers in their pockets sallied forth as gallantly as the knights of old to slay the dragons of the well-to-do, and with the irrepressible high spirits of the young, to have some laughs. Pimps, prostitutes, muggers, murderers, set up shop after dark without having to pay overhead for the bright neon light of what was left of the Great White Way. Tourists came to see Times Square, where the ball fell on New Year's Eve and proclaimed the coming of another joyous New Year. On most of the buildings in the area and the slum streets leading into it were posters with a huge red heart and inside that red heart the inscription I 1OVE NEW YORK. Courtesy of Louis Inch.
On that Thursday near midnight, Blade Booker was hanging out in the Times Square Bar and Cinema Club
