“And in this time of national crisis,” Morton continued, “many Americans have another concern, as well. As our economic power fades, we are vulnerable to a new kind of invasion. Many Americans fear that we may become an economic colony of Japan, or Europe. But especially Japan. Many Americans feel that the Japanese are taking over our industries, our recreation lands, and even our cities.” He gestured to the golf course with skyscrapers in the background.

“And in doing so, some fear that Japan now has the power to shape and determine the future of America.”

Morton paused, beneath the tree. He gave the appearance of thinking.

“How justified are these fears for the American future? How much should we be concerned? There are some who will tell you foreign investment is a blessing, that it helps our nation. Others take the opposite view, and feel we are selling our precious birthright. Which view is correct? Which should—which is—which—oh, fuck! What’s the line again?”

“Cut, cut,” Edgar Lynn called. “Take five, everybody. I need to clean up a few things, and then we can do it for real. Very good, Senator. I liked it.”

The script girl said, “ ‘Which should we believe for the future of America,’ Senator.”

He repeated, “Which should we believe for the future of…” He shook his head. “No wonder I can’t remember it. Let’s change that line. Margie? Let’s change that line, please. Never mind, bring me a script, I’ll change it myself.”

And the crowd of makeup and wardrobe people descended on him again, touching him up and fluffing him down.

Woodson said, “Wait here, I’ll try and get you a few minutes with him.”

We stood beside a humming trailer, with power cables coming out of it. As soon as Morton approached us, two aides came running up, brandishing thick books of computer printout. “John, you better look at this.”

“John, you better consider this.”

Morton said, “What is it?”

“John, this is the latest Gallup and Fielding.”

“John, this is the cross-referenced analysis by voter age-brackets.”

“And?”

“Bottom line, John, the president is right.”

“Don’t tell me that. I’m running against the president.”

“But John, he’s right about the C-word. You can’t say the C-word in your television ad.”

“I can’t say ‘conservation’ ?”

“You can’t say it, John.”

“It’s death, John.”

“The figures show it.”

“You want us to run over the figures, John?”

“No,” Morton said. He glanced at Connor and me. “I’ll be right with you,” he said, with a smile.

“But look here, John.”

“It’s very clear, John. Conservation means diminution of life-style. People are already experiencing diminution of life-style. They don’t want any more of it.”

“But that’s wrong,” Morton said. “That’s not how it works.”

“John, it’s what the voters think.”

“But they’re wrong about this.”

“John, you want to educate the voters, well and good.”

“Yes, I do want to educate the voters. Conservation is not synonymous with diminution of life-style. It is synonymous with more wealth, power, and freedom. The idea is not to make do with less. The idea is to do all the things you are doing now—heat your house, drive your car—using less gas and oil. Let’s have more efficient heaters in our houses, more efficient cars on our streets. Let’s have cleaner air, better health. It can be done. Other countries have done it. Japan has done it.”

“John, please.”

“Not Japan.”

“In the last twenty years,” Morton said. “Japan cut the energy cost of finished goods by sixty percent. America has done nothing. Japan can now make goods cheaper than we can, because Japan has pushed investment in energy-efficient technology. Conservation is competitive. And we aren’t being competitive—“

“Fine, John. Conservation and statistics. Really boring.”

“Nobody cares, John.”

“The American people care,” Morton said.

“John: they absolutely don’t.”

“And they aren’t going to listen. Look, John. We have age-regressions here, particularly among the over fifty-fives, which is the most solid voting block, and they are straight ahead on this issue. They want no decreases. No conservation. The old people of America don’t want it.”

“But older people have children, and grandchildren. They must care about the future.”

“Older people don’t give a flying fuck, John. It’s right here in black and white. They think their kids don’t care about them, and they’re right. So they don’t care about their kids. It’s that simple.”

“But certainly the children—“

“Children don’t vote, John.”

“Please, John. Listen to us.”

“No conservation, John. Competitiveness, yes. Look to the future, yes. Face our problems, yes. A new spirit, yes. But no conservation. Just look at the numbers. Don’t do it.”

“Please.”

Morton said, “I’ll think about it, fellas.”

The two aides seemed to realize that that was all they were going to get. They closed their printouts with a snap.

“You want us to send Margie over to rewrite?”

“No. I’m thinking about it.”

“Maybe Margie should just rough out a few lines.”

“No.”

“Okay, John. Okay.”

“You know,” Morton said, as they were leaving, “some day an American politician is going to do what he thinks is right, instead of what the polls tell him. And it’s going to look revolutionary.”

The two aides turned back together. “John, come on. You’re tired.”

“It’s been a long trip. We understand.”

“John. Trust us on this, we have the figures. We are telling you with ninety-five percent confidence intervals how the people feel.”

“I know damn well how they feel. They feel frustrated. And I know why. It’s been fifteen years since they’ve had any leadership.”

“John. Let’s not do this one again. This is the twentieth century. Leadership is the quality of telling people what they want to hear.”

They walked away.

Immediately, Woodson came up, carrying a portable phone. He started to speak, but Morton held up his hand. “Not now, Bob.”

“Senator, I think you need to take this—”

“Not now.”

Woodson backed away. Morton glanced at his watch. “You’re Mr. Connor and Mr. Smith?”

“Yes,” Connor said.

“Let’s walk,” Morton said. He started away from the film crew, toward a hill overlooking the rolling course. It was Friday. Not many people were playing. We stood about fifty meters from the crew.

“I asked you to come,” Morton said, “because I understand you’re the officers in charge of the Nakamoto business.”

I was about to protest that it wasn’t true, that Graham was the officer in charge, when Connor said, “That’s true, we are.”

“I have some questions about that case. I gather it’s been resolved now?”

“It seems to be.”

“Is your investigation finished?”

“For all practical purposes, yes,” Connor said. “The investigation is concluded.”

Morton nodded. “I’m told you officers are particularly knowledgeable about the Japanese community, is that right? One of you has even lived in Japan?”

Connor gave a slight bow,

“You were the one playing golf with Hanada and Asaka today?” Morton said.

“You’re well informed.”

“I spoke with Mr. Hanada this morning. We have had contact in the past, on other matters.” Morton turned abruptly and said, “My question is this. Is the Nakamoto business related to MicroCon?”

“How do you mean?” Connor said.

“The sale of MicroCon to the Japanese has come before the Senate Finance Committee, which I chair. We’ve been asked for a recommendation by staff from the Committee on Science and Technology, which must actually authorize the sale. As you know, the sale is controversial. In the past I have gone on record as opposing the sale. For a variety of reasons. You’re familiar with all this?”