Executive (3 page)

I returned the steel balls to Ebony. “Thank you,” I said, reaching out to tweak a strand of her glossy black hair. “I reached him.”

“Good thing, sir,” Shelia said. “Because all hell is breaking loose on Jupiter.”

“I am ready for it now.”

Emerald came on the dayroom screen, evidently connected by Shelia. “Sir, there is trouble.”

“I'm sure there is,” I agreed.

“I have been removed as commander of this task force.”

Thanks to my interview with the Dreamer, I knew how to proceed. “Get me the commanding admiral of the Jupiter Navy,” I told Shelia.

“Admiral London,” Emerald said.

After a moment Shelia reported: “His office doesn't answer.”

“Then put out a planetary bulletin: Admiral London has one minute to report to me via this network, or he will be disciplined.”

“In process, sir.” She made her connections, and in a moment Emerald's face on the screen was replaced by that of a staff officer.

“By order of Hope Hubris, Admiral London to report within sixty seconds or be disciplined. All units advise.”

Coral emerged, clean and fresh. She was in her mid-thirties but possessed the figure and features of a woman a decade younger. “I begin to get nervous,” she murmured.

“It's being handled,” Ebony said.

The minute finished without response by the admiral. “Admiral London is as of this moment relieved of command,” I said. “Admiral Emerald Mondy is elevated to that command. Notify all units—immediately.”

Shelia got busy again, sending out the word. Emerald's face reappeared on the screen. “Further orders, sir?”

“Consolidate your position,” I said. “You know what to do.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” she said, saluting smartly.

I returned the salute. For an instant it was like old times, when I had commanded my own task force.

But now we were playing for larger stakes.

“Sir,” Shelia said. “Broadcast from Admiral London.”

“Put it on.”

The Admiral's face appeared on the screen. “...usurper,” he was saying. “Repeat: There is rebellion in the Navy. All loyal units to declare for President Tocsin and against the usurper. Report immediately.”

But Emerald was on the job. “The Constitutional Convention is the ultimate authority of North Jupiter. It has appointed Hope Hubris to govern the planet. Hope Hubris has appointed me commanding admiral of the Jupiter Navy. Neither Tocsin nor London retains power. Verify this for yourselves and do as you deem proper.” She smiled. She was the same age as I, fifty, but still a compelling woman.

The units, for the moment perplexed, did just that. Then, one by one, they declared for the new order.

My authority, however precedent-breaking, was legitimate; Tocsin's was illegitimate, and it did not require any great amount of research to verify that. The ongoing news of my elevation to power had been dominating the media; very few citizens, whether civilian or military, could be in ignorance of it. When it became apparent that the majority supported me, the conversion of those in doubt was prompt. Only a few units held out, and these were promptly isolated and nullified without violence.

I relaxed. “So the Navy supports me,” I said. “I know that the majority of the people support me too.”

Later there would be stories published about the supposedly horrendous campaign I waged to tame the rebellious elements of the Navy, making it seem as if Planet Jupiter was the center of a blazing battle, with several ships holed and several more plummeting into the deadly depth of the atmosphere. The truth was otherwise; it was really only a minor question, settled peacefully in a few minutes. No blood was shed at my accession. If this makes my own narration seem trivial, so be it; I have seen more than enough genuine bloodshed and do not care to enhance my notoriety by fiction. Admiral London was guilty of a misjudgment, no more, and was permitted to take early retirement with an unblemished record.

The irony is that though many of the dramatic stories about me are false, there are true episodes that would have been equally dramatic in print but that were never published. In some cases the reasons for nonpublication are as interesting as the items themselves, for I never practiced censorship. My enemies could have blasted me with the truth, but their attention was so firmly fixed on what was false that they overlooked the reality. In this manuscript I mean to present as much of the truth as is warranted. About the only ugly action was in connection with ex-President Tocsin. He was holed up in New Wash, in the White Bubble itself, and refused to acknowledge the change of government. I realized that I had to deal with him directly.

Tocsin was a completely unscrupulous man. He had shown his nature during his campaign against Megan for a seat as a senator, twenty-two years before. It had become a textbook example of scurrilous politics. He had proceeded from height to height—more properly, depth to depth—until I defeated him for the highest office. Then he had used several nefarious devices to block my ascension, until the Constitutional Convention had swept the entire prior government aside and appointed me. Now he fought a stubborn rear-guard action, perhaps believing that the people would in the end support him as the defender of the status quo, rather than me, as a completely new order. I was not concerned about the people, but there were records in the White Bubble that I wanted to recover intact, and I did not want to give him opportunity to destroy them. He had to be dealt with swiftly.

But the White Bubble was a very special place. It was associated with New Wash, where the major portion of the North Jupiter governmental apparatus was, and I knew that had to be preserved. Even if I had not had a care for the population there, I would not have threatened the administrative structures of the nation. How could we get the worm out of the apple without harming the apple?

I discussed it with my limited staff, there in the flagship, and we concluded that there was only one feasible way. I had to make a deal. The only way Tocsin would ever let those records fall into my hands was if he was assured that nothing in them could be used against him.

I really had no choice. “Call him,” I told Shelia.

Tocsin had evidently anticipated the call, because in a moment his homely face was on screen. “You know what I want, Governor,” he said when he saw me. Since the last public office I had held was that of governor of the State of Sunshine, it was a legitimate address. This was a public call, open to the media; there would be no secrets here, and because it was to our mutual interest to make a good impression, he was polite.

“I want an orderly transition of administration,” I said. “I presume your interest is similar.”

“The Supreme Court denied you, but the Navy supports you,” he said. “You have taken over by force, not by the political process. But might makes right, eh? You've got the power.”

I did not care to debate with him the ethics of my ascension. I had taken power legitimately if unconstitutionally; the force had been required only because of his intransigence. “I have the power,” I agreed.

“But I have the White Bubble,” he said. “And you want it. What do you offer for it?”

This galled me, as I had known it would. He was trying to make me pose the offer when I would have preferred to have him ask for it. “A safe conduct out of it,” I said shortly.

He shook his head. “You can do better than that, Governor.”

I ground my teeth, almost literally. “A pardon,” I said. My reputation as governor had suffered grievously when I pardoned four unfairly condemned men. Tocsin was certainly guilty—and I had to let him off. My mouth tasted of gall.

He nodded. “Your word on that, Governor.”

“I give it,” I said grimly. I felt unclean. I had long dreamed of bringing this man to trial, of making him pay for everything—and now he would not.

That was all there was to it. Tocsin knew that my word was good, though his was not. But to the best of my knowledge he never again conspired against me, because he could be held accountable for anything he did following the pardon. If he gave me a legitimate pretext to go after him...

In this manner I consolidated my power. Oh, there were pockets of resistance scattered around the planet, but I was now in control, and the population seemed satisfied to have the matter settled.

I thought the worst was over. I thought, in that early day, that I really could do it. Such was my hubris, my namesake: the arrogance of pride and passion. Hope Hubris, the foolish dream of glory.

Emerald took us to New Wash. The Navy landed troops to safeguard my arrival, but Emerald did not trust this. She made sure that no segment of the public had access to me during the transition. “There are always the crazies, the kamikaze assassins,” she said. “We need to get you installed alive, sir.”

The White Bubble, so recently vacated by Tocsin, was a short distance from the massive New Wash city-bubble, like a satellite, though, of course, it did not orbit the city. It was now flanked by three cruisers and a number of smaller ships; nothing short of a direct military invasion could penetrate that defense.

We were funneled in on another destroyer. Emerald kissed me at the lock. “Take care of yourself, sir,”

she cautioned me.

“My staff will see to that,” I said.

“For the moment,” she agreed obliquely. “Remember, the Navy is always at your service.”

She meant more than militarily. I wished I could take her up on it; the Navy had been a competent home for me, in the past. At the moment I wished someone could take me by the hand and guide me to some quiet, safe place where I could just relax for a time. But there was too much to be done; I did not know when I could afford to rest. “I'll remember,” I agreed wanly.

Then we were moved to the White Bubble. There, at the entrance lock, was my sister Spirit. She was three years my junior but, I think, looked younger. Somehow I still remembered her as a child of twelve.

As a woman of twelve.

I moved into her arms. Suddenly I felt much better. Spirit had always been my strength; how glad I was that she had gotten here as fast as I had.

Spirit got right to work. “You have done a good job of consolidating power, Hope. Now you need to establish a government, at least a temporary one.”

“I will declare the present mechanisms of government to continue until further notice,” I said. “Then I will revise them as convenient, piecemeal.”

She nodded appreciatively. “You are better organized than I thought you might be.”

“It's not my notion,” I confessed.

“Oh?”

“Beautiful Dreamer.”

“Oh.” She understood the reference, of course, but took a moment to digest the implication. “Then let's make notes on your speech.” She turned to Shelia. “Set up a planetary address at the earliest auspicious moment.”

“Twenty-one minutes hence,” Shelia said evenly.

“We'll make it,” Spirit said.

We huddled over it, working out suitable phrasing. The essence was: I am the new government of North Jupiter, by the authority of the Constitutional Convention to Balance the Budget. I declare all the current institutions to remain in force until further notice, on an advisory basis. Life will proceed unchanged until further notice. The leaders of Congress and the governors of all the States of the Union will have twelve hours to acknowledge their acceptance of this state to my office. The members of the Supreme Court will acknowledge similarly. Any failing to so acknowledge will be summarily removed from office thereafter.

Announcements of new posts and appointees will follow in due course, and the first major effort will be made to balance the budget as of the present.

Of course, the actual wording was more sophisticated and polite, with due compliments to the good sense of the population. But the message was plain: Accept the new order or else. I didn't like putting it that way, but I had already been convinced by the problems I had encountered that absolute firmness was required, if there was not to be anarchy in short order. Once the new administration was established, I could relax.

The broadcast was planetary, and the monitors indicated that a goodly portion of the remainder of the System was picking it up too. Of course, the interplanetary scale is such that it would be hours before all the other planets received it, but their local news representatives were relaying it from Jupiter. It seemed everyone was interested in what was happening on Jupiter.

When it was done, we turned to the matter of appointments. As candidate for president I had been aware of the need to set up a Cabinet and prepare a program of legislation; I had expected to finalize that after the election, if I won. Severe complications had interrupted that, and now I did not have any proper program. The fact that I had assumed power outside the normal framework added a dimension of complication. I was now pretty much flying by the seat of my pants.

Fortunately Spirit was better organized than I was. “We have a guideline of sorts,” she said. “That campaign speech you gave on the eve of the election.”

“But that was scripted for me by the opposition!” I protested. “It was made up of impossible dreams.”

“But you presented it,” she reminded me. “And you won the election. The individual points were not necessarily bad; it was merely not feasible to implement all the programs simultaneously. Now, with a completely new government, that may have become feasible.”

I nodded, appreciating the scope of the opportunity. Part of the complications I had encountered were a two-month abduction and a memory-wash that cleaned out much of my recent life. I had recovered most of that, but some gaps remained. I wasn't necessarily aware of a particular gap until I came across it by chance, so my own ignorance torpedoed me at odd moments.

“You'll have to do a lot of interviewing,” she continued. “It might save trouble at the beginning if you drew on people you already know, for the key posts, and then interview at greater leisure to fill the lesser ones.”

I spread my hands. “You know what to do,” I said.

“I'd better! We've got a planet to organize.” She brought out a notepad. “Now what people do you want closest to you, who are competent to act in your name?”

I sighed. “She won't come.”

She patted my hand. “Aside from Megan.”

“I contacted Senator Stonebridge about the budget—”

“Yes, he should be put in charge of economics. But you'll need a mandate for him. It's not enough simply to say 'Balance the budget.' You have to have your priorities aligned before he gets into harness.”

“So I discovered,” I agreed ruefully. “My last four months haven't been very good for economic priorities.”

She laughed. “Sometimes I think of you as the fifteen-year-old boy I knew when our situation changed,”

she said. Then she leaned across and kissed me, as I sat startled.

But, of course, if I could remember her as twelve, she could remember me as fifteen. Certainly that had been the period of our reckoning, of our coming of age. We had shared more joy and tragedy then than ever since. Whatever else might happen, that common experience bound us together in a way that no other person was equipped to understand.

“Crime,” she said. “We have taken steps to deal with it in the past, but it's like a hydra, always sprouting new heads. We want a competent, dedicated person to tackle the problems of violence in the streets, illicit drugs, gambling—”

Gambling. That summoned a picture of Roulette, my last Navy wife, as she had been then: eighteen, fiery, and with a body crafted by the devil himself for man's corruption. I had been required to rape her—

“Why not?” Spirit asked.

I jogged out of my reverie. “I—”

“Only one body compels a trance like that. But she always was competent, and at thirty-eight she's had a good deal of experience. She could tackle the problem of crime as well as anyone could.”

“But—”

“Of course, we need her husband even more. He is under our power, while she isn't, so we'd better assign him first.”

“Admiral Phist?” I said, not quite keeping up.

“The same. When it comes to efficiency, he has no peer.”

She had been married to him for several years in the Navy. “You ought to know,” I murmured. But, of course, it was true; Gerald Phist had been held back in the Navy because he was a whistle-blower, until he joined my unit. He had done marvels for our procurement. Certainly I wanted him on my team now—and if Spirit asked him, he would serve. He was now in his mid-sixties, but I knew his mind remained sharp. “What position?”

“Well, I would have thought defense, because that's his area of expertise, but he has already taken care of that.”

I knew what she meant. After Spirit and I had left the Navy our unit had continued, and its personnel had extended their influence, thanks to Admiral Mondy's—the male, Emerald's husband—sinister expertise. Emerald's own position had been proof of that; my recent promotion of her had only completed a twenty-year process. My people had in their quiet way assumed the reins and reorganized the Navy, making it a far more effective fighting force than it had been. Gone were the days of paying hundreds of dollars for nickel and dime parts and of spending billions for exotic equipment that didn't work. The Navy had become the canniest of buyers. President Tocsin would have squelched that but had realized that it was better simply to take credit for the improved efficiency, and since my people did not seek credit, that had worked out well enough. But when it had come to the crunch, the Navy had supported me, not Tocsin. That had been the payoff.

Spirit was right. The Navy no longer needed Admiral Phist. We needed him—to do the same job in the civilian sector. “But if not defense, then what?”

“The Navy learned to deal effectively with the industrial part of the military-industrial complex,” she said.

“Thanks to Gerald. But the political power of industry has only been blunted, not broken. Waste and fraud are rampant, and both the government and the consumers suffer. We need to bring down the prices of food and goods for the average citizen, bringing inflation to a complete halt. He's the one to do that.”

“He surely is,” I agreed. It was evident that Spirit had done more thinking on these matters than I had.

“And we'll need someone for interplanetary relations—”

“Sir,” Shelia said from across the room.

I got up and went to her.

“The opposition members are walking out of Congress,” she explained.

“Walking out?” I repeated blankly.

“To prevent a quorum,” Spirit said, rejoining me. “So that no official business can be done. It's an old ploy.”

“Maybe I can appoint replacements,” I said.

“Easier said than done,” Spirit said darkly. “Those Congressmen are supposedly the representatives of their various districts. Your appointees would represent you, not their districts. That wouldn't go over well.”

I nodded somberly, seeing her point. “And we're having enough trouble figuring out who to appoint to the major offices; filling congressional seats would be impossibly cumbersome.”

“Agreed,” she said. “As I see it, we have two convenient routes.”

“Sir,” Shelia said again.

I sighed. “Another problem? I haven't grasped the last one yet!”

“Not exactly. A delivery from Ganymede is here. They need your clearance.”

“A delivery from Ganymede?” I repeated blankly.

“A baby,” she said succinctly.

A baby! Abruptly I remembered. I had made a deal with a woman from Ganymede I called Dorian Gray: to return her baby to her, in exchange for her help. Her help had enabled me to survive my situation, but she had died. I had nevertheless contacted the premier of Ganymede, who had agreed to locate the baby. Now, two or three months later, he had evidently done so.

“Perhaps I should contact a nursery—” Shelia murmured.

“No,” I said. “This is my responsibility. Bring it in.”

She spoke into her mike, giving the clearance.

“One is to nationalize Congress,” Spirit resumed, unconcerned about the interruption. I regrouped my attention; we had been discussing ways to deal with the opposition walkout. “That would put the members under the authority of the government—”

“But they are the government,” I protested.

“No, you are the government,” she reminded me.

“But still, what use is their advice and consent if they are compelled to be there by a government they oppose?”

She shrugged. “Not much, I suspect. The other alternative is abolition.”

“What?”

But again we were interrupted. A Hispanic nurse entered, carrying a little boy. She approached me. "

¿Señor Hubris? " she inquired.

“ Si,” I responded; evidently she did not speak English.

“Robertico,” she said, holding out the baby boy.

“Robertico,” I agreed somewhat numbly, taking him.

She turned smartly and exited, leaving me holding the baby. I was the cynosure of all present. I felt like a fool.

Robertico contemplated me. He was in doubt and considered crying, but I anticipated him and distracted him with a remark. “I promised to fetch you for your mother, Robertico,” I said. “This will be your new home. Meet your new friends: Spirit, Coral, and Shelia.” Naturally he did not understand the words, for he was too young to talk, and in any event, I was speaking in English, but my tone and the manner in which I held him reassured him. He decided that this place was all right.

“May I?” Shelia inquired, holding out her hands. With relief I gave Robertico to her. She sat him in her lap, facing him forward. His gaze fixed on the little transceiver screen and his expression became rapt.

Evidently the moving picture was new and fascinating to him.

“Abolition,” Spirit repeated, picking up where she had left off. “Simply abolish Congress, since it is no longer representative.”

“But that would be—”

“Dictatorial,” she finished. “You have the power and would be foolish not to use it. You gave them a chance and they refused to cooperate. Why not make an example?”

“But without them who will represent the people?”

“Do you suppose that very many of those folk represent the people?” she asked dryly.

Robertico started to cry. Evidently he had seen something on the screen that upset him. “We've got to make better provision for him,” I said.

“I have seen to it,” Shelia said. “But we are strangers to him. I suspect he has not been in as stimulating an environment as this before.”

“He needs some sleep,” Spirit said.

“It will be another half hour before the child-bed arrives,” Shelia said.