“Good morning. Hector. As you have ordered, the tents are here and are being erected. There is much wonder among the workers-on my part as well-just why we need a carnival at this time. Is it to celebrate the election? Do you think we will win?” “All will be explained in a few hours, my dear Marqu6z. But I dare not breathe a syllable now. But you can tell your men that they can make the job easier by not bothering to erect the grandstands.” “Just empty tents?” “That’s it.” .”.

I left him with a look of befuddled bemusement on his face. I was to see that expression more and more as the day wore on. Though they were all to polite to say so, I had the feeling after a few hours that most of the people on the castle staff thought that I was mad. Crazy as a rat, that’s what! I laughed a quick chuckle-chuckle under my breath, and went on with the preparations for the day.

The first order of official business was of course registering my own vote. The polling place for the district was in the small town of Tortosa, a few kilometers outside the marquez’s estate. We went there in a convoy of polished cars, election flags flapping in the breeze of our passage. Our arrival was timed for nine in the morning when the polling booth was to be opened. We drove into the central square just as the clock in the town hall was clanging out the hour. A line of prospective voters already stretched across the square. “A good turnout,” de Torres said.

“A good turnout of ward heelers as well,” I said, pointing.

There was a large gang of Zapilote’s followers grouped about before the entrance to the hall. They waved drab banners with the official colors, sickly green and mud brown, of Zapilote’s Happy Buzzard party. They had already worked their way down the line, pinning a Happy Buzzard button on each of the waiting voters.

“We’re on stage,” I said as my followers grouped behind me. My faithful watchdog, Rodriguez, stood close, as did Bolivar and James. All three were unarmed-but very dangerous. I nodded to Angelina who carried the camera and recording apparatus. “This is it. Roll the camera. Action.” With heavy tread we marched across the square to face the local mayor, a toady of Zapilote’s of course, and the chief of police. They looked nervous and fingered their sidearms.

“The law is being broken here!” I said sternly, pointing an accusing finger at them, keeping my best profile to the camera. “It is forbidden by the constitution to canvass within two hundred meters of the polling place. Eject these men at once!” “I am mayor here!” the mayor here squeaked, “and I take orders from no one. Chief, send these people packing.” The chief of police was unwise enough to reach for his gun. Rodriguez took one step in his direction. There was a whistle of wind as his hand made a quick pass in the air. The chief was suddenly unconscious and lying on the ground. The Happy Buzzards flocked closely together bieating to one another. I walked in their direction, Rodriguez and the twins at my shoulder, and they broke and ran.

“Remove those disgusting buttons,” I ordered. “You, mayor, get in there and open the voting, for I shall cast the first vote for myself.” As soon as he scrambled into the town hall all of the waiting voters cheered and pulled off their Zapilote buttons. There was a rustle like that of falling leaves as they were all hurled out upon the cobbles of the square. My ward heelers, careful to begin their operations a good two hundred meters from the door, began passing out our buttons, the proud symbol of our party, the Avenging Terrier. On the button was a small white-and-brown dog with large teeth holding a dead rat in his jaws. Said dead rat bearing more than a passing resemblance to Zapilote. Everyone wanted a button, and even those voters near the entrance hurried outside the polling limit to get one before going back to their places in the line.

“And now,” I announced to the waiting voters-and to the camera, “the voting will begin!” There was a lot of cheering and cries of “Harapo’s the one!” and “The Avenging Terrier will strike!” and this sort of thing as I and de Torres marched into the town hall, followed by our alert bodyguards.

My name was found in the voting register, I signed in the indicated spot with a flourish-then went forward into the polling booth with all eyes upon me. I reached up and pulled the handle that closed the privacy curtain and actuated the machine. Since this was a oresidential election there were only two levers on the board. One for each party. I reached out and pressed down the Harapo lever. The mechanism whirred, a panel lit up saying VOTE RECORDED, and the curtain opened behind me. I stepped out and made way for the marquez.

“And how does this apparatus work?” I asked the election official in charge of the registration book. He looked about, not wanting to be seen talking to me, but could not avoid an answer.

“It is all electronic,” he finally said. “Your vote is recorded in the machine’s memory bank. When voting is over for the day the central computer automatically connects through to this machine, and one by one to every other machine, and reads the memory and enters it into the central memory bank. When all of the voting stations have been reported in, the final vote is counted and displayed.” “How do we know that the central computer won’t cheat? That it hasn’t been programmed to let one side win?” “Impossible!” he said with what appeared to be hearty conviction. “That would be illegal. The man with the most votes will win.” “Well you are looking at him!” I reached out and pumped his reluctant hand. “This is the day when a new broom sweeps clean the foul nest of dictatorship that has locked a slimy metal hand on the bloodstream of the country. Victory!” Cheered on by this masterpiece of mixed metaphor I exited with de Torres to the cries of the happy voters. We reboarded the cars and swept off towards the castle.

“That’s that,” I announced. “Nothing more to do until the polls close at six. I hope that the chef has prepared a good lunch.” “No more canvassing?” Bolivar asked.

“No more getting out the loyal voters?” James added. “Unless something is done there is going to be a landslide for Zapilote. “ “How interesting,” I mused, a secret smile on my lips. “I do hope that there will be a fish course. It goes so well with the white wine.” It was indeed a wonderful lunch and I must admit that I dozed a bit after the liqueurs. Politics can be so trying. The sun was low on the horizon when I opened my eyes-to see Angelina silhouetted most attractively before its radiant disc.

“You’re a vision!” I said. “What time is it?” “Time for you to wake up. I have told the boys everything. They greeted the plan with great joy, and left with the convoy at the appointed time. The polls are just closing now.” “Wonderful,” I said, standing and stretching. “Let us go listen to the results.” The forces of darkness wasted no time. The preliminary results were already coming in when we joined the marqu6z. He was pacing back and forth, shaking his fist at the TV screen as he went.

“A landslide, that is what they are predicting. That criminal has terrorized the electorate. They are afraid to vote against him.” “I think the answer is really simpler than that. All of his electioneering is just window dressing. He who controls the computer can bring in the final vote any way that he likes. That’s why it would have been a waste of time to do any more campaigning.” “Then we have lost.” “I think perhaps we are going to win. It all depends on how angry Zapilote is. Look-this might be the news that we have been waiting for!” The announcer, a very oily type with a pimp’s moustache, was waving a fistful of computer printouts at the camera, while at the same time he was working up a pseudo-enthusiasm.

“This is wonderful, absolutely wonderful. A landslide for our dear General-President. A spontaneous outwelling of loyalty from the people he holds so dear. An affirmation of their faith despite the efforts of wreckers and other vermin to undermine this grateful affection that has grown with the years. Wait-just a moment-yes, the final results have just been handed to me, the results that we all have been waiting for.” “You can say that again,” I said, then said it again. The announcer smiled greasily and held up a sheet of paper, then lowered it and read from it.