Vice President Orson Bollinger was a man of medium height, medium build, medium middle age, and afflicted with a medium high voice that fell between the narrow parameters of being dismissible and convincing. He was… well, medium, the ideal second in command so long as Number One was in good health and vigour. He was vaguely perceived as a toady who might just possibly rise to the occasion, but only possibly. He was neither a threat nor was he stupid. He was a political survivor because he understood the unwritten rules of the also-ran. He greeted Congressman Evan Kendrick warmly and led him into his impressive private library where his 'people' were assembled, sitting in various leather armchairs and on dark leather couches.
'We've cancelled our Christmas festivities here,' said Bollinger, sitting in the most prominent chair and indicating that Evan should sit beside him, 'in deference to dear Ardis and Andrew. Such a terrible tragedy, two such magnificently patriotic people. She simply couldn't live without him, you know. You'd have to have seen them together to understand.'
Nods and impatient grunts of agreement came from around the room. 'I understand, Mr. Vice President,' interjected Kendrick sadly. 'As you may know, I met Mrs. Vanvlanderen a number of years ago in Saudi Arabia. She was a remarkable woman and so very sensitive.'
'No, Congressman, I didn't know that.'
'It's immaterial, but of course not to me. I'll never forget her. She was remarkable.'
'As, indeed, is your request for a meeting this evening,' said one of the two official aides sitting on the couch. 'We're all aware of the Chicago movement to challenge the Vice President, and we understand that it may not have your endorsement. Is that true, Congressman?'
'As I explained to the Vice President this afternoon, I didn't hear about it until a week ago… No, it doesn't have my endorsement. I've considered other plans that do not concern further political pursuits.'
'Then why not simply declare your non-candidacy?' asked a second aide from the same couch.
'Well, I guess things are never as simple as we'd like them to be, are they? I'd be less than candid if I said I wasn't flattered by the proposal, and during the past five days my staff did some fairly extensive polling, both regionally and among the party leadership. They've concluded that my candidacy is a viable prospect.'
'But you just said you had other plans,' interrupted a heavyset man in grey flannels and a gold-buttoned navy blue blazer… not an aide.
'I believe I said that I've considered other plans, other pursuits. Nothing's finalized.'
'What's your point, Congressman?' asked the same staffer who had suggested that Evan should declare he would not stand.
'That could be between the Vice President and me, couldn't it?'
'These are my people,' offered Bollinger unctuously, smiling benignly.
'I understand that, sir, but my people are not here… perhaps to guide me.'
'You don't look or sound like someone who needs a hell of a lot of guidance,' said a short, compact adviser from a leather chair unflatteringly large for his small frame. 'I've seen you on television. You've got some pretty strong opinions.'
'I couldn't change those any more than a zebra could change his stripes, but there may be mitigating circumstances why they should remain privately held beliefs rather than publicly expressed ones.'
'Are you trading horses?' asked a third contributor, this a tall, lanky man in an open shirt with deeply tanned features.
'I'm not trading anything,' objected Kendrick firmly. 'I'm attempting to explain a situation that hasn't been clarified and I think it damn well should.'
'No need to get upset, young fella,' said Bollinger earnestly, frowning at his large, suntanned adviser. 'It's not a demeaning choice of words, you know. “Trading” is intrinsic to our great democratic contract. Now, what's this situation that should be clarified?'
'The Oman crisis… Masqat and Bahrain. The basic reason I've been singled out for higher political office.' Suddenly, it was apparent that the Vice President's people all thought they were going to be given information that might wash away the Oman myth, vitiate the potential candidate's strongest appeal. All eyes were
