“Then when is?”
It was the first thing she had said to him since she’d returned.
“I’ll speak to him tomorrow. I’ll go over and see him.” “No.” She turned to face him. “Tonight. After the party. And not just you, Michael. Us. I’ve one or two things I want to say to Joseph Kennedy myself.”
He raised his hands defensively. “All right. Have it your way. But afterward, okay?”
“Okay,” she answered quietly, her face softening toward him.
He smiled. “Good. Then come on, my princess. Let’s go and show ourselves.”
kennedy arrived an hour later. There was a huge cheer and the band started up as he came in through the big double doors and down the steps, his wife Jean on his arm. Michael and Mary were there at the foot of the steps to greet them, embracing them, then turning to lead them to the center of the crowded ballroom, where, on a rostrum shaped like the continent of North America, a huge tiered cake awaited them. It was Kennedy’s thirty-fifth birthday and, coincidentally the fifteenth anniversary of his marriage to Jean. As they posed for the media cameras, Michael drew Mary aside.
“Did you get a present?” he whispered.
“Two,” she answered.
“Two?”
“One for now, one for later.”
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Just what are you up to, Mary Lever?”
“Trust me,” she said out of the corner of her mouth, as if it were a joke—but her eyes were cold and hard.
For the next two hours there was no time for anything but the social whirl. Then, as the great bell sounded midnight, a curtain at one end of the hall swept back and four liveried servants stepped forward, bearing a huge silver tray between them. On the tray was an irregular, bulky shape, covered in a bright red, white, and blue silk flag. “What’s this?” Kennedy asked, laughing, turning to Michael. “It’s your birthday present,” Mary answered, smiling tightly, reaching out to take Michael’s hand.
Kennedy turned, watching the servants approach through the parting crowd. As they stopped, he stepped forward and, looking about him, took hold of the silk and tugged it back.
There was a gasp of surprise, then a great tide of applause and cheering. It was a tiny artillery piece, the iron barrel a dull, unreflecting black, the wheels and limber of ancient polished wood. Kennedy turned, beaming. “Why, that’s beautiful!” Michael was nodding. “It sure is.” He motioned to the servants. “Lift it up, so everyone can see!”
As the great tray was raised and the cannon came into view, there was a ripple of applause and a loud whooping from near the back, where some of Michael and Kennedy’s contemporaries were gathered about the bar. “Thank you,” Kennedy said, stepping across and embracing first Michael and then Mary. “Where in the gods’ names did you get it?” She handed him the gold-and-blue envelope. He stared at it, then whistled.
“Aiya! You shouldn’t have.”
“No,” she said coldly. “We shouldn’t.”
“What is it?” Kennedy asked quietly, looking between them. “Afterward,” Mary answered, leaning close as if to kiss his cheek, a tight smile on her face for the watching cameras, “in Michael’s study.”
it was after three when things finally broke up. Kennedy had sent his wife home and the rest of the crowd had gone on to The Kitchen to continue the celebrations, which left just the three of them in the dimly lit study. Michael went around his desk and sat, tired after the day’s exertions, his movements slow, exaggerated by the harness. Mary sat in one of the big cane chairs close by, watching him. With every day that passed he resembled his father more, that same jawline, that same inflection in the voice; yet he was very much his own man—a better man than Charles Lever had ever been. Just now he stared at Kennedy with a mixture of anger and disappointment. In that he differed from her. She was simply angry. Michael hesitated, then leaned forward, looking directly at Kennedy, who was standing, facing him. “So why the amendment, Joe? What happened?” Kennedy sighed, then looked back at Michael apologetically. “I had to. The whole package was conditional on it. Without that we’d have lost the vote, and then we’d have been back to square one, but with our reputation discredited.”
She laughed. “You mean you don’t think it’s discredited now?” Kennedy turned, staring at her. She had tried to keep the anger, the bitterness she felt, from her voice, but she hadn’t quite succeeded. “No, I don’t. I still think we can achieve something. But it’s different there. Weimar ... it simply isn’t like it is here. Straight-talking doesn’t work there. Deals. That’s how the House works. Deals.” She nodded, looking at him as if he’d just confirmed her worst suspicions. “You don’t understand,” he went on. “The measure will be temporary. A year, eighteen months at most. Until the Seven can get some extra production capacity. Wu Shih’s new orbitals, the new hybrids. Things will change. And with the new controls—“ “You sound just like them,” she said, interrupting him. “Deals. Temporary measures. Things will be better once . . .” She shook her head. “But they’re never any better, are they? Not for the Lowers. They’re the ones who are getting it in the neck. As for First Level, it escapes untouched, doesn’t it? Every time. Every damn time.” “They’d never pass it.”
“No? And why’s that? I’ll tell you. Because they’re all too much in the pocket of their rich friends. They’re all like you—afraid to rock the boat. Afraid to take even the tiniest little bit from those who have it all. Change . . . you don’t want Change, Joseph Kennedy, you just want a cushy ride, that’s all!”
Michael had been watching them, his eyes narrowed. Now Kennedy turned to him.
“Does your wife speak for you, too, Michael?” Michael sat back a little. “No. Em calls it as she sees it. She’s her own person. But this once I agree with her. I think it was a pretty foul thing to do, slipping that amendment through. Millions ... no, tens of millions are going to suffer because of that—families, children— while First Level pays nothing. I don’t just think that’s poor, 1 think it’s really shitty on your part, and the Joseph Kennedy I used to know would have thought so too. So what went wrong, Joe? Where did all of that fine talk lead? To this? To pissing on the little people because they’ve got no vote, no say in things?”
Kennedy took a long, deep breath, then shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. It—“ “You’re their tool, Joe. Can’t you see it? Piece by piece they’ve bought you and controlled you. A year ago you were really something. A king. A real leader. But now...” Michael shook his head dismissively letting the full bitterness of his disappointment show in his face for the first time. “Now you’re just a puppet, Joe, jerking to their tune. I don’t have to see into those smoky rooms where you make the deals to see that. I can see it right now, in your face.”
Kennedy stared back at him a moment, then looked down. Michael met Mary’s eyes briefly, then looked back at Kennedy, suddenly businesslike.
“I’ll be making a statement. Later this morning, at nine. In it I’ll announce that I’m resigning my seat and quitting the NREE” Kennedy looked up. Both he and Mary were staring at Michael now, astonished.
“I’ll mention nothing of what passed between us here tonight, simply that growing political differences have forced this decision on me. It’s not my intention to stand again, nor to involve myself in politics in any shape or form, so you’ve no need to fear me setting up a rival party. But if it damages you, well, I can’t say I’ll be that unhappy. What you did today was unforgivable.”
Kennedy was silent a moment, then he nodded. He looked older, more haggard, than they’d ever seen him. His whole frame seemed drained suddenly, his eyes shocked.