«But the announcement was made, I tell you. Two hours ago.»
«Mmm ... Bill, I'm afraid that you will have to call the boys in again and tell them that you made a mistake. Or I'll call them in and tell them that through an error a preliminary list was handed out before Mr. Bonforte had okayed it. But we've got to correct it before the grand network announcement.»
«Do you mean to tell me you are going to let him get away with it?»
By «him» I think Bill meant me rather than Willem, but Rog's answer assumed the contrary. «Yes. Bill, this is no time to force a constitutional crisis. The issue isn't worth it. So will you phrase the retraction? Or shall I?»
Corpsman's expression reminded me of the way a cat submits to the inevitable — «just barely.» He looked grim, shrugged, and said, «I'll do it. I want to be damned sure it is phrased properly, so we can salvage as much as possible out of the shambles.»
«Thanks, Bill,» Rog answered mildly.
Corpsman turned to leave. I called out, «Bill! As long as you are going to be talking to the news service I have another announcement for them.»
«Huh? What are you after now?»
«Nothing much.» The fact was I was suddenly overcome with weariness at the role and tensions it created. «Just tell them that Mr. Bonforte has a cold and his physician has ordered him to bed for a rest. I've had a bellyfull.»
Corpsman snorted. «I think I'll make it “pneumonia.”»
«Suit yourself.»
When he had gone Rog turned to me and said, «Don't let it get you, Chief. In this business some days are better than others.»
«Rog, I really am going on the sick list. You can mention it on stereo tonight.»
«So?»
«I'm going to take to my bed and stay there. There is no reason at all why Bonforte can't “have a cold” until he is ready to get back into harness himself. Every time I make an appearance it just increases the probability that somebody will spot something wrong — and every time I do make an appearance that sorehead Corpsman finds something to yap about. An artist can't do his best work with somebody continually snarling at him. So let's let it go at this and ring down the curtain.»
«Take it easy, Chief. I'll keep Corpsman out of your hair from now on. Here we won't be in each other's laps the way we were in the ship.»
«No, Rog, my mind is made up. Oh, I won't run out on you. I'll stay here until Mr. B. is able to see people, in case some utter emergency turns up» — I was recalling uneasily that the Emperor had told me to hang on and had assumed that I would — «but it is actually better to keep me out of sight. At the moment we have gotten away with it completely, haven't we? Oh,they know — somebody knows — that Bonforte was not the man who went through the adoption ceremony — but they don't dare raise that issue, nor could they prove it if they did. The same people may suspect that a double was used today, but they don't know, they can't be sure — because it is always possible that Bonforte recovered quickly enough to carry if off today. Right?»
Clifton got an odd, half-sheepish look on his face. «I'm afraid they are fairly sure you were a double, Chief.»
«Eh?»
«We shaded the truth a little to keep from being nervous. Doc Capek was certain from the time he first examined him that only a miracle could get him in shape to make the audience today. The people who dosed him would know that too.»
I frowned. «Then you were kidding me earlier when you told me how well he was doing? How is he, Rog? Tell me the truth.»
«I was telling you the truth that time, Chief. That's why I suggested that you see him — whereas before I was only too glad to string along with your reluctance to see him.» He added, «Perhaps you had better see him, talk with him.»
«Mmmm — no.» The reasons for not seeing him still applied; if I did have to make another appearance I did not want my subconscious playing me tricks. The role called for a well man. «But, Rog, everything I said applies still more emphatically on the basis of what you have just told me. If they are even reasonably sure that a double was used today, then we don't dare risk another appearance. They were caught by surprise today — or perhaps it was impossible to unmask me, under the circumstances. But it will not be later. They can rig some deadfall, some test that I can't pass — then blooey! There goes the old ball game.» I thought about it. «I had better be “sick” as long as necessary. Bill was right; it had better be “pneumonia.”»
Such is the power of suggestion that I woke up the next morning with a stopped-up nose and a sore throat. Dr. Capek took time to dose me and I felt almost human by suppertime; nevertheless, he issued bulletins about «Mr. Bonforte's virus infection.» The sealed and air-conditioned cities of the Moon being what they are, nobody was anxious to be exposed to an airvectored ailment; no determined effort was made to get past my chaperones. For four days I loafed and read from Bonforte's library, both his own collected papers and his many books ... I discovered that both politics and economics could make engrossing reading; those subjects had never been real to me before. The Emperor sent me flowers from the royal greenhouse — or were they for me?
Never mind. I loafed and soaked in the luxury of being Lorenzo, or even plain Lawrence Smith. I found that I dropped back into character automatically if someone came in, but I can't help that. It was not necessary; I saw no one but Penny and Capek, except for one visit from Dak.
But even lotus-eating can pall. By the fourth day I was as tired of that room as I had ever been of a producer's waiting room and I was lonely. No one bothered with me; Capek's visits had been brisk and professional, and Penny's visits had been short and few. She had stopped calling me «Mr. Bonforte.»
When Dak showed up I was delighted to see him. «Dak! What's new?»
«Not much. I've been trying to get the Tommie overhauled with one hand while helping Rog with political chores with the other. Getting this campaign lined up is going to give him ulcers, three gets you eight.» He sat down. «Politics!»
«Hmm ... Dak, how did you ever get into it? Offhand, I would figure voyageurs to be as unpolitical as actors. And you in particular.»
«They are and they aren't. Most ways they don't give a damn whether school keeps or not, as long as they can keep on herding junk through the sky. But to do that you've got to have cargo, and cargo means trade, and profitable trade means wide-open trade, with any ship free to go anywhere, no customs nonsense and no restricted areas. Freedom! And there you are; you're in politics. As for myself, I came here first for a spot of lobbying for the “continuous voyage” rule, so that goods on the triangular trade would not pay two duties. It was Mr. B.'s bill, of course. One thing led to another and here I am, skipper of his yacht the past six years and representing my guild brothers since the last general election.» He sighed. «I hardly know how it happened myself.»
«I suppose you are anxious to get out of it. Are you going to stand for re-election?»
He stared at me. «Huh? Brother, until you've been in politics you haven't been alive.»
«But you said — »
«I know what I said. It's rough and sometimes it's dirty and it's always hard work and tedious details. But it's the only sport for grownups. All other games are for kids. All of `em.» He stood up. «Gotta run.»
«Oh, stick around.»
«Can't. With the Grand Assembly convening tomorrow I've got to give Rog a hand. I shouldn't have stopped in at all.»
«It is? I didn't know.» I was aware that the G.A., the outgoing G.A. that is, had to meet one more time, to accept the caretaker cabinet. But I had not thought about it. It was a routine matter, as perfunctory as presenting the list to the Emperor. «Is he going to be able to make it?»