The Overseer (54 page)

“Who, then?” asked Xander.

“Who indeed?” he replied, then paused. “The answer might come as something of a surprise.”

“Try me.”

Again, Schenten waited before speaking. “What if I were to say the very same men who’ve been so interested in you?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” he answered.

“Would you, Ms. Trent?” Schenten kept his eyes on Xander. “No, I don’t suppose you would.” He reached toward the desk, Xander quick to bring the gun even with the older man’s eyes. Schenten immediately stopped, pointed to a gold box, and said, “They’re cigarettes. You can take a look, if you like.”

Xander pulled the box across the desk and flipped it open; several rows of neatly packed Rothmans stared up at him. Sliding the case to Schenten, he asked, “You want us to believe you’re afraid of your own people?”

Schenten laughed, pulling a lighter from the pocket of his dressing gown. “Nothing of the kind.” A moment later, smoke streamed from his nostrils as he sat back. “Can you see the inscription, Doctor? In the case—it’s on the bottom of the lid. … No, please, take a look.” He waited for Xander to locate the tiny writing, then asked, “Would you mind reading it aloud so Ms. Trent can hear? I’m sure your French is passable enough to make sense of it.”

Xander studied the man’s weathered face. “I don’t think—”

“Please, Doctor,” insisted Schenten. “Humor me.”

Xander looked at Sarah, then pulled the box closer. Translating, he read, “‘with a love that is ours alone, I am forever with you—Jean.’” He stared a moment at the words before looking up at Schenten. “Lovely. I’m sure you and your wife are—”

“It’s not from my wife,” he interrupted.

“My mistake,” corrected Xander. “I’m sure you and your
mistress
—”

“Wrong again,” said the senator.

Xander shut the lid. “Look …
whoever
she is—”

“Strike three,” said Schenten, staring directly into his captor’s eyes. He drew the cigarette to his lips and slowly inhaled. “
French,
Doctor,” he said, smoke billowing from his mouth, “French, where Jean is a
he.
Jeanne, I believe, is the feminine, as in Jeanne d’Arc. Believe me, my Jean was no saint.”

“What are you saying?”

Schenten sat back and smiled. “Is it that difficult to believe?” He turned his head to Sarah. “Have I lost you as well, Ms. Trent?”

“He was your lover,” she answered coldly.

“
Very
good. And?”

“And”—she dropped the curtain, her eyes on Xander—“senators aren’t supposed to have skeletons in their closets.”

“An interesting choice of words, but yes.” He now looked at Xander. “She’s very intuitive, you know. Much better at this than you are.” He
continued
to stare across the desk. “
And
, Ms. Trent?”

“And,” Xander responded, no small amount of cynicism in his tone, “you’ve decided to lash out at a world that’s never understood you—”

“That would be ludicrous.” The smile remained on Schenten’s face. “Don’t you agree, Ms. Trent?”

“Look,” continued Xander, “your sexual history is fascinating, but that’s not what we’re here—”

“That is
exactly
what you’re here for,” he answered icily. “As Ms. Trent pointed out, it’s the sort of thing that can put someone like me in a rather vulnerable position.” The smile had disappeared. “A potent weapon,
information
. Used properly, it can turn even the most powerful into puppets, make them appear to be things that they’re not.” He sat back, smoke once again cascading from his nose. “You begin to see my point, I’m sure.”

Xander slowly sat forward. “Are you telling me—”

“I think you know exactly what I’m telling you.” He spat a stray piece of tobacco from his lips. “Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone could be as
open-minded
as you? What a lovely world that would be. Sadly, old bulldogs aren’t meant to blur the distinctions between decency and depravity; we’re not meant to raise unpleasant questions in the minds of our self-righteous constituents. Just smile and project an image that at worst makes them admire, at best makes them revere.” Another long draw, more smoke. “As you know, there isn’t a great deal of introspection on the part of those who associate themselves with the grassroots conservative Right, but what can you do? That’s the reason we can lead them around like a group of
mindless
idiots. They’re not very clever, but they do have their limits. Stray from the image and influence disappears. So as you see, Doctor, my sexual
history
can make a
great
deal of difference, especially when it’s used as a
bargaining
chip.”

“And Eisenreich has that chip,” he whispered.

“That,” answered the senator, “is the reason we’re sitting here.”

“This is incredible.”

“For how long?” asked Sarah, moving to the desk.

“About two and a half years,” he replied. “You had no idea, did you?”

“Why?”

“
Why?
” The word was spoken in mock disbelief. “Because they
could
. What other reason did they need?” He shook his head. “This is a complete surprise to you, isn’t it?” Neither answered. “I’m amazed. … That, and the fact that I wasn’t interested in what they were selling.” He inhaled deeply. “Their response … photocopies of several letters—far more detailed than the inscription you just read—sent to my office some three weeks later.”

“They approached you,” said Sarah. “How?”

“Does that really matter?” He began to crush out the cigarette, taking time to play with the ash. “A few meetings. Something like that.”

“And you have records of those meetings?” asked Sarah.

“I did. Somehow, they managed to …
disappear
at the same time the photocopies began arriving.” He lit up another. “Funny that.”

“And you have no idea who delivered the copies,” asked Sarah, “or who had access to your records?”

“It’s the United States government, Ms. Trent. Bureaucracy doesn’t lend itself to a great deal of accountability.”

“But why?” asked Xander, unconvinced. “Why would they have told you anything if you weren’t interested?”

“Ah, but I was interested … for a time. That proved most informative. They showed me bits and pieces of a manuscript, set up meetings with Messrs. Votapek, Tieg, and Sedgewick—and believe me, at the outset, I was very enthusiastic. I genuinely believed they had uncovered something that—how should I put this?—that could control the electorate without appearing to put a stranglehold on rights? Yes, I think that’s right.
Something
that would allow us the room to create effective policy without
having
to cater to public sentiment. That is, after all, the only way to get anything done.” He stopped. “My opinion troubles you, Doctor, doesn’t it?” His eyes squinted as his lips creased around the cigarette. “I offer no apologies. That, my young academic, is the simplest truth of politics. You won’t find it in any of your books.” He exhaled and laid the cigarette in the ashtray. “And so, when they came to me with their plans, I didn’t look
horrified
; I didn’t stand appalled by the deceptions they were ready to unleash. I embraced them.” He smiled. “Do you
honestly
think we tell you
everything
we do in Washington? Do you honestly think you would
understand
why certain compromises have to be made? The
people
—the myth you hold so dear—are, on the whole, indifferent, uninformed, and stupid. So why put them in the loop at all? Do you really think it was designed to be a
democracy?
Don’t be ridiculous. It was meant to be a
republic
, a system where the most capable represent the desires of the rest—whether that rest realizes what’s good for it or not. Without a little bit of deception, you’re doomed to mediocrity—”

“Obviously,” interrupted Sarah, “you and Votapek took the same
correspondence
course.”

“You might not like my politics, Ms. Trent, but you know I’m right.”

“Your politics,” broke in Xander, “are supposed to be about
dismantling
big government, giving power
back
to the people, or have I missed the point? It seems to me you folks on the Right are the ones who don’t want to tell the people what’s good for them, even when they don’t realize it themselves.”

“It’s a wonderful tactic, isn’t it?” Schenten nodded as he reached for the cigarette. “But do you think we’re giving up power by doing that? We’re simply letting the states deal with the petty quarrels. ‘Get government out of your backyard.’ It’s a clever slogan, isn’t it? Keeps them preoccupied with the minutiae. Actually, we’re taking their minds off the federal
government
, giving them something smaller to play with so that they leave us alone to handle the larger issues.”

“Such as?”

“Let government do what it’s best designed for—turn a maximum profit without having to worry about the few who can’t make it on their own. The more we focus the
people’s
interest on state government, the less they focus on the federal, the less they get in our way. Once you create a
thoroughly
disjointed electorate—a group of people concerned only with their own backyards—you can achieve great things.”

“So why weren’t you buying?” asked Xander. “Eisenreich makes all of that possible.”

“To a point. The difference is, I trust in the republic.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? I might be an elitist, I might even insist that a modicum of
deception
can be quite useful, but I still believe in a balance of power—a
real
balance
—among the few who truly understand the issues. Naturally, that means the people shouldn’t be allowed to poke their noses in at every turn. But it also means that the few who
do
run things must do so with an
honest
end in mind. A republic must be accountable to stability, permanence, progress, not to the whims of the poorly educated. Eisenreich eliminates the people, but unfortunately, he also eliminates the balance. In its place, he offers Star Chamber hidden beneath a veneer of republican virtue.Deception is one thing, Doctor, tyranny through cultivated bigotry quite another. I chose not to ally myself with that.”

“A dash of John Stuart Mill with a hint of Machiavelli.” Xander nodded. “A strange pairing, to say the least, as the cornerstones of the modern
conservative
movement.”

“Think what you will,” he answered. “It’s what’s best for this country.”

“So they blackmailed you,” said Sarah. “Why? Why not kill you?”

“Because, my dear Ms. Trent, at that point I had nothing that could harm them. I was never alone with the manuscript, never had time to make copies of my own, and never had any proof to link them to it. Moreover, they needed me … or rather, they found some rather clever ways to
use
me. My summer home in Montana has become a frequent spot for
meetings
, among other things.”

“Other things?”

“It’s where, I believe, they are organizing all of this. A compound of some sort, another school for those ready to turn the vision into reality. I haven’t been allowed back in over a year. Whatever it was, I became a very convenient subterfuge should anyone take an interest in Tieg, Votapek, and Sedgewick. Even the location of
this
house makes me a prime
candidate
for association with the Tempsten school. I often wonder if that’s what they had in mind all along. Throw people like you off the track.
Evidently
, it worked.” He paused. “That, however, seemed rather unfair.” He placed a small black book on the table. “So I took something of theirs.”

“The schedule,” said Xander. “When? How?”

“Very good, Doctor.” Schenten slid it across the desk. “It came into my hands about a month ago; how … how isn’t all that important, is it?” He watched as Xander began to flip through the pages. “According to the dates, the real fireworks begin in less than three days. I’m sure you’re aware that what happened in Washington and with the grain market was designed merely to test the waters. New Orleans, I believe, was a mistake. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another three days—part of something far more comprehensive.”

“Why haven’t you done anything to stop them?” asked Sarah. “If you knew we were out there, why didn’t you contact us? Three days isn’t—”

“Because, Ms. Trent, the moment I would have tried—the moment I would have shown even the
slightest
inclination—I would have been dead. Contact
you
? What a ludicrous thought. And where was I supposed to start looking? I knew you were involved. Beyond that … no, it had to be the other way round. As you’ll see, it’s all far too extensive, far too intricate to disrupt without striking at the core. I’d never have gotten that close.” He shifted the pillow higher up his back. “Somehow, you two have managed to elude them. I’m simply counting on the fact that you will continue to do so. You were careful breaking in, no one aware. You will be equally diligent on your way out. I therefore give you the schedule and wish you Godspeed.”

“The core?” asked Xander insistently. “You mean there
is
an overseer, one man behind it all?”

“Of course,” answered Schenten. “It is, no doubt, why you were
chosen
, Doctor. Why you—”

Glass shattered all around, lights extinguished in a hail of bullets. Xander lunged across the desk for Schenten, only to find himself grabbed and thrown to the floor between the wall and desk. Sarah crouched next to him, her gun an inch from her face, the book clutched in her hand as the library once again fell silent. Seconds passed before they heard it. Distant at first, then deafening, the sound of a helicopter erupting within the room, a spotlight tearing through the madly flapping curtains, its beam coming to rest on the heaving body of Schenten, his arms drooped to the side, his mouth wide in convulsions, blood blotted on his chest. A moment later, the light slid from the room, rotors retreating, the telltale sound of landing. Sarah pulled Xander to his feet and ran to the door.