But Gimli-if it was Gimli… That presence was still very much with him. Gregg could hear the dwarf's evil chuckling, and he wondered, as he'd wondered much of the afternoon, if he weren't approaching some kind of breakdown. With the thought, the Gimli-voice surged forward.
You are, Greggie, he said. I'm going to fucking make sure of it.
Gregg took a deep breath and pretended he'd not heard the voice. He took Ellen's hand, squeezed it, then patted the swell of her belly. "We're ready. Let's get on with the circus, Amy."
Gregg fixed a smile on his face as Amy held the curtains aside. He took the three steps up to the stage at a bound, Ellen following slowly. Cameras clicked like a plague of mechanical insects; electronic flashes stuttered their brief lightning. At the podium, Gregg waited until the reporters had quieted in their seats, looking down at the outline of Tony Calderone's speech in his hand. Then he raised his head.
"As usual, I don't have much in the way of a formal statement," he said, waving the single page of handwriting. That received the small laugh he'd expected-Gregg had a reputation as an off-the-cuff speaker who regularly strayed from Tony's prepared text, and most of the reporters in the audience had been with him on the campaign trail for months. "There's a good reason for that, too. I really don't have much to say at this press conference. I feel that the less one responds to vicious and unfounded rumors, the better. And I know what you 'll all say to that: `Don't blame us. The press has its responsibility.' I hope you all feel better for having that out of the way."
There was more chuckling at that, mostly from those he knew were in his camp. The rest waited, solemn.
He paused, glancing again at the notes Tony, Braun, Tachyon, and he had made. At the same time, like a person constantly probing at a broken tooth, he felt for Puppetman and sensed nothing. He relaxed slightly. "We all know why you're here. I'm going to say my piece, answer a few question if you want, and go on to other things. I've already seen fellow candidate ruined by what was essentially innuendo an circumstance. Whether Gary Hart actually did anything was immaterial. He was injured by rumors and might have to credibility even if he'd actually done nothing at all."
"Well, I'm not Gary Hart; he's better looking. Even Ellen says so."
They grinned at that, almost universally, and Gregg himself smiled with them. He placed his notes carefully an visibly to one side, and leaned on his elbows toward them. "I think I can point out a few other differences. The Stacked Dee wasn't the Monkey Business. We went to Berlin, not Bimini And Ellen was along on the entire trip."
Gregg glanced over to Ellen and nodded. On cue, s returned his smile.
"Senator?" Gregg squinted into the glare oflights and sa Bill Johnson of The Los Angeles Times waving his notebook Gregg gestured for him to go ahead. "Then you're denying that you and Sara Morgenstern have had an affair?" Johnson asked "I certainly know Ms. Morgenstern, as does Ellen, an she's been a family friend. She has her own problems, and have no knowledge of precisely what she's said or hasn't sat recently. But I don't go sneaking around behind my wife i back."
Ellen leaned in close to Gregg with a mischievous look "Bill, I did catch Gregg eyeing Peregrine from time to time but he was hardly the only one doing that."
Laughter. The cameras began flashing again, and th tension in the room visibly dissolved. Gregg grinned, but th expression went cold and dead on his face. Gimli's voice seemed to whisper just behind his ear.
You screwed her, Hartmann. You spread her legs on five different continents, and your little ace made her smile and think she enjoyed it. But she didn't, did she? Not really. She doesn't think much of you now, not at all. Not without Puppetman.
Ellen sensed Gregg's distress. He knew his hand was clammy in hers. She was still smiling, but behind the eyes was worry. He shook his head slightly, pressing her fingers.
Such a fucking professional wife you have, too. She knou exactly what to do, doesn't she? Smiles at just the right time, says just the right thing, even lets you knock her up so she'll be nice and matronly for the convention. You're so proud, such a good daddy. You're a bastard, Hartmann. I am too, and this little bastard's going to wreck your life. I'm going to make your pet ace rip you open so everyone can see.
Listening to the voice, he'd waited a beat too long. He could hear the laughter dying, the moment passing. He hurried to catch them again, refusing to listen to Gimli's continuing stream of invective.
"Okay, as Ellen has pointed out, I'm guilty of some of Jimmy Carter's lust of the heart. I doubt there's very many of us who aren't-Peregrine would be disappointed if it were any other way. Beyond that, I'm afraid that you've been duped. There's a rumor, and nothing else. From today on, I'm going to consider this whole question answered, and we'll try to concentrate on real issues. If you want more of a story about this, look at your sources. Ask yourself what ulterior motives were responsible for spreading this kind of trash."
"Are you accusing Leo Barnett or his staff?" A voice from the back: Connie Chung of NBC.
"I'm not naming names, Ms. Chung; I don't have them. I'd like to believe that a God-fearing man such as Reverend Barnett would refuse to use such tactics, and I'm certainly not going to cast the first stone." Another wave of laughter. "But the lie started somewhere-track it down. I notice Ms. Morgenstern hasn't been quoted directly by any of you. I haven't seen anv tangible proof at all. That should tell you something immediately, I'd think."
He had them. He'd turned it around. He could see it, feel it. Yet there was very little sense of triumph in Gregg. Beneath everything, he could sense a familiar stirring. Puppetman was rising, still deep down, but heading for the surface. Just another day, he thought. Give me that much time.
You can't keep it down even that long, Hartmann. You're addicted. That's all Puppetman is: your goddamn drug. And you both need a fix, don't you? Gimli chuckled. To get it, you've got to get around me. Ain't it a fucking pity.
Both Ellen and Amy were staring at him. He was standing stock still, frozen. Gregg gave them an apologetic shrug and continued.
"A few minutes ago, Bill Johnson called me `Senator.' Now, it's been over a year since I gave up my seat to run for this candidacy, but I understand the mistake. Bill's been calling me Senator-when he hasn't been calling me other things-for years now."
A slow amusement moved through the ranks in front him. "That's habit," Gregg told them, sliding easily back into Tony's speech. "It's easy to let habits rule us. It's easy for us to cling to ancient prejudices, clouded outlooks, and outright fables. But we can't do that, not now. We hear too many rumors and believe them without foundation. We've had the habits and listened to the lies for years: that jokers are somehow accursed; that it's right to hate people-jokers o otherwise-because they look or act differently; that people can't change, and the way it is is the way it must be. If yo believe opinions and feelings are set in concrete, you 'r right-you can't change, you can't grow. But when we can d something that defies such beliefs, well, to me that's worth more coverage than sensational rumors about infidelity." Gregg glanced over to Ellen; she nodded back. Gimli still there and Gregg's head ached with the sound of his voice but he blinked and went on. He wanted to get off the podium, to be alone in his room. He was rushing, speaking too fast; he forced himself to slow down.
"I'm pleased to say that some things we think eternal pass. I've based my entire campaign on the idea that now is the tim to heal the wounds. Opinions change. We can embrace those we once hated. That's important. That's newsworthy. And it's also not my story. I can understand a person who takes his o her fervor too far. I can understand passionate conviction even when I don't agree with them. We all have things w believe in strongly and that's good. It becomes a proble when such passion crosses the line beyond fervor to violence. There have been joker organizations that have sometimes stepped over that line."