The shadows were lengthening across the floor before I did. A secondary reference to a sub-clause in an appendix relating to additional addenda. I read it once quickly, and as I did I felt a warm glow suffuse my body. Then I went through it again, more slowly, dancing a little jig as the glowing letters moved across the screen.
“Eureka!” I cried, unable to contain myself any longer. Then Eureka! again as I keyed in the computer’s voice simulator, then actuated it to say Eureka too. And to repeat itself in a number of different voices and melodies. Within moments a chorus of booming “Eurekas!” was filling the air. Angelina appeared at the doorway and lifted one quizzical eyebrow.
“I thought you might have something to do with this insane chorus. Dare I guess? Does it have any bearing on our little problem?” “Big problem, my sweet!” I said, seizing her hands and dancing her around the room. “A large problem that appeared insoluble until this very minute, though don’t tell anyone else that. I would not want to spoil my reputation for infallibility. I have come up with an answer that is so simple I dare not breathe it aloud-to any other than you-in case word might reach the forces of evil that oppose us. They could easily avert disaster if they knew in time what I was planning. But they shall not know-and this evening’s news broadcast will be designed to so infuriate Zapilote that he will work his evil will to excess. Come-to the recording studio!” I am not a sadist at heartso I reallv was not overioved that our broadcast would spoil many a TV viewer’s evening. But I needed prime time for my announcement. The program I planned to interrupt could easily be repeated-though I couldn’t imagine why. It was a loathsome series about a family of perverted sadists who ran a boarding kennel cum insane asylum where people could leave off their nutsy relatives when they went on vacation. It was entitled Ain’t Love Grand and was purported to be watched by one hundred and eight percent of the viewing audience. Some of them were obviously watching it twice.
We finished our recording just in time. The boys had set up and tested the satellite interrupters and they were in perfect working order. Our signal would be broadcast from the dish aerial on the roof, going first to the geostationary satellite in orbit high above us. All of the normal programs would then be shorted out while our program was relayed from one satellite to another, finally to be beamed back to the expectant audiences on the planet below. They were in for a different kind of thrill tonight.
“Three more minutes,” James said, slipping the big cassette of tape into the player. “Aren’t you afraid of losing your audience, Dad? Won’t they turn off their sets when they see that they are getting a political broadcast?” “Not the way we’ve written it. They’ll be glued to their chairs. Watch and see.” Our homely little family scene was being repeated around the globe. The father turning on the set, then sitting down in the best chair with brimming glass or cup. The mother at his side, doing something domestic like knitting booties or fiddling the tax returns. The children at their feet, the servants in their hovels huddling around their battered machines. All the world awaited breathlessly its favorite program. It began.
And was ruthlessly interrupted just as it got into full sadistic swing. The picture blinked and sputtered and was replaced by a view of Angelina clutching at a microphone. She was wearing the same uniform as those of the regular announcers, while the background was an exact duplicate of the national news studio.
“I have terrible news to bring to you,” she said in a horror-filled voice. “There has been an assassination. No, not the loathsome Zapilote, that is almost too much to ask. Presidential candidate Sir Hector Harapo will now tell you what has happened. After his brief talk the regular program will be resumed. Sir Harapo.” My bearded image appeared, fist raised for banging down on the table before me.
“Assassination!” I banged. “Do you know what has been assassinated? I’ll tell you what. Your free choice, guaranteed under our sacred constitution, to elect the presidential candidate you think is best. That choice has been assassinated. By whom, you ask? By that little worm Zapilote who has eaten away the core of our noble republic, that’s who. I have always spoken well of my opponent in this presidential race. I shall do so no longer. I shall name him as the gray-furred, longwhiskered, foul-breathed rat that he is. A rodent gnawing away at the supports of our heroic republic. He flaunts our laws. He tried to prevent me from running for office by secretly closing all nominations-but I out-thought him there. Easy enough to do with a creature that has the IQ of a retarded cockroach. Since his first attempt to stop me was foiled he has tried again. He has moved forward the election date in an attempt to prevent me from meeting you good voters out there, to stop me from telling you of his sins and my abilities. But that shall not be so!” I stopped for breath and recorded cheering echoed loudly. It faded when I raised my hand.
“You noble voters will have your chance tomorrow. Get out there and vote! Vote for Harapo and de Torres, because every vote for us is a vote for liberty and will bring a bubble of froth to the demented lips of Zapilote the dictator, soon to be deposed. He cannot win! It shall be a landslide for Harapo! Let us sweep the board in order to sweep that loathsome maggot into the dustbin of history! Thank you.” The announcement ended with martial music and snapping flags.
“I get a feeling you don’t like this guy. Dad,” Bolivar said.
“You’re going to make him angry. If he has his way you won’t get a single vote,” James added.
I stood and went over to my discarded doctor outfit and removed the most ornate medal from it. I bade James rise and pinned it to his broad chest and we all cheered.
“That is an award for clear-eyed vision, my son. You have, as they say, hit the nail squarely on the head.” “Well, thanks, I’ll wear it always. Even in the shower. But would you like to clarify a bit just how you can win by losing massively?” “I’m afraid that must remain a secret between myself and your mother, for at least a little while longer. No word of my plans must be breathed aloud, even within these castle walls. You shall know, first thing after the returns for the voting come tomorrow. If you can figure out by then just what I am up to-why you get another medal,”
Chapter 28
Election day began with a bang.
The explosion blew out a number of windows in the castle and jolted me in an instant from a deep slumber to a painfully wide-awake condition. I stood by the bed, alertly poised on the balls of my feet, my hands extended in the best karate position.
“Aren’t you cold, just standing there like that?” Angelina asked from the warm depths of the covers.
“Yes, now that I think about it, I am,” I shivered and dived back in. As I was reaching for her the phone rang and I reached for it instead.
“Must have been a big one,” Bolivar said, “because the defense screen is set to take out any offensive action when it is five Ks away. Aerial bomb. Big as a house. Computer back-tracked its trajectory then launched a missile at whatever dropped it. The second explosion was too far away to be heard.” “Thanks for the info,” I said, smacking my lips at the sudden bad taste in my mouth. I stood up and wearily pulled on my robe.
“You didn’t expect him to exactly send you flowers, not after all the awful names you called him, did you?” Angelina said.
“No. But I didn’t want any more lives lost.” I looked out at the gray of dawn and felt rather gray myself.
“The new president will stop all the killings forever-that’s the way you have to look at it. Now order up some food. It’s going to be a busy day. “ As indeed it was. After a satisfying but rapid breakfast, followed by a quick check that my beard was firmly in place, I was off to the level meadow behind the castle. All of the cows had been ejected to make room for the tents. The marquez himself was supervising the operation as they were unloaded from the trucks.