«Thank heavens for somebody!» cried Jennifer.
«For Chief Justice Reebock,» explained Aaron, «who’s not the most likable fellow in the world, albeit quite bright. Unaccountably, and contrary to his normal disposition, Reebock went along with the White House. When the rest of the justices learned this, the majority simply revolted, including my friend. He made it clear that along with the others, even those ideologically opposed to him, the Executive had no constitutional right to impose restrictions on the Judicial… Sometimes it all comes down to ego, doesn’t it? Forget checks and balances, ego’s the great equalizer.»
«Mr. Pinkus, my people will be in the streets, on the steps of the Supreme Court! They’ll be slaughtered!»
«Not if the general plays his cards right, my dear.»
«If there was a wrong card to show, he’d show it!» yelled Redwing. «That man is instant hate! There’s no one on earth he’s incapable of offending!»
«But you hold the deck,» interrupted Devereaux. «He can’t legally do a damn thing without your approval; your contract with him is binding.»
«Has that ever stopped him before? From all I’ve learned about your prehistoric dinosaur, he tramples over the international laws of behavior, his own government, the Joint Chiefs, the Catholic Church, the universal concepts of morality, and even you, Sam, whom he professes to love like his own son! It’s not you who’ll climb up on that sacrosanct bully pulpit to denounce injustice, it’ll be him, and to make his case he’ll nuke the whole goddamn system and turn the Wopotamis into the biggest threat this nation has faced since Munich in ’39! He’ll be a bolt of lightning that has to be shorted out, grounded, before a hundred other minorities think they see how they’ve been screwed by a government, and there’ll be riots in the streets everywhere… We can correct these things with time and prudence, but not his way, which is chaos!»
«She’s got a point, Aaron.»
«Again, a brilliant summary, my dear, but you overlook a fundamental law of nature.»
«What the hell is that, Mr. Pinkus?»
«Wrapped in a bagel, he can be stopped.»
«For God’s sake, how?»
At that moment, the door of the suite burst open, crashing against the wall as a furious Cyrus stood in the frame. But it was a different Cyrus; he was dressed in an extravagantly expensive pinstriped suit, Bally shoes, and a foulard tie. «Those sons of bitches got out!» he yelled. «Are they here?»
«You mean Roman and our two Desis?» said Sam, holding his breath. «They’ve deserted?»
«Hell, no, they’re like kids at Disneyland; they’ve got to explore. They’ll be back but they disobeyed orders.»
«What do you mean, Colonel?» asked Pinkus.
«Well, I went to—I went to the can and told them to stay put, and when I got out they were gone!»
«You just said they’d be back,» offered Devereaux. «So what’s the problem?»
«You want those grinder monkeys running around in the lobby?»
«It might be rather refreshing, actually,» said Aaron, chuckling. «Give a little life to the army of diplomats here, who walk around so rigidly you’d think they were containing severe cases of duodenal gas—forgive me, my dear.»
«Once again, no apologies are necessary, Mr. Pinkus,» said Jennifer, her gaze on the huge mercenary. «Cyrus,» she continued, «you look so—oh, I don’t know what the word is—but so … I guess, distinguished.»
«It’s the threads, Jenny. I haven’t worn a suit like this since forty-six relatives in Georgia got together and bought me one at the Peachtree Center when I got my doctorate. Couldn’t afford one before then and certainly not afterward. Glad you like it; me, too. It’s courtesy of Mr. Pinkus, whose tailors jump through the eyes of needles when he sneezes.»
«Not true, my friend,» said Aaron. «They simply understand the meaning of emergency… Isn’t our colonel a magnificent sight?»
«Awesome,» agreed Sam reluctantly.
«The Colossus of Rhodes dressed for an IBM board of directors’ meeting,» added Redwing, nodding approvingly.
«Then, perhaps, I should introduce you to your new associate at the hearing this afternoon… May I present Judge Cornelius Oldsmobile, who will accompany you into the chambers as a visiting amicus curiae extraordinary, courtesy of my old friend who’s a member of the Court. He is not permitted to speak, only observe, but he will be sitting next to General Hawkins, who logically thinks he’s there as military security. At the conclusion of the hearing, should our general be determined to add inflamatory comments, ‘Judge Oldsmobile’ has assured me that there are a number of ways to prevent him from doing so, including a metabolic seizure that for one of the general’s age would mandate his immediate removal.»
«Aaron, you old fox!» cried Sam, leaping up from his chair.
«It pained me to even conceive of such an action, but one must consider the alternative, as the lovely Jennifer suggests.»
«God, I wish you were thirty years younger!» cried Redwing. «Hell, even twenty!»
«So do I, my child, but I’d be grateful if you never mentioned such a thought to Shirley.»
«Maybe I will, if Pocahontas doesn’t behave,» said Devereaux. «You know, it could have been ten, maybe fifteen miles in the storm, but I’m too modest to talk about it.»
Arnold Subagaloo wriggled his broad beam into the captain’s chair, secure in the knowledge that the tight-fitting arms would hold his body firm as he indulged in his favorite office pastime. When he raised his arm to throw his darts, his pear-shaped frame was confined to the parameters imposed, ensuring a better aim, as there was a minimum of lower lateral movement. After all, he was an engineer par excellence, with an IQ of 785, and knew everything there was to know about everything except realpolitik, courtesy, and a diet.
He had pressed the button that pulled back the flushed curtain on the wall, revealing an enormous photographic tableau stretching from corner to corner with the enlarged faces of one hundred six men and women—enemies all! Liberals in both parties, environmentalist loonies who could never understand a profit and loss statement, Feminazis who were forever trying to emasculate God’s order of masculine superiority, and, above all, those senators and congressmen who had the temerity to tell him he wasn’t the President!… Well, maybe he wasn’t, actually, but who the hell did they think thought for the President? Every hour, every minute!
As Subagaloo began to throw his first dart, his private telephone rang, causing the sharp, pointed missile to deviate and go through an open window on the left, resulting in a loud scream from a landscaper in the Rose Garden.
«That motherfucker’s at it again! I quit!»
Arnold dismissed the gratuitous remark out of hand; he should have hit the man between the eyes—obviously a member of some socialist-communist union expecting two weeks’ severance pay for a lousy twenty years on the job. Unfortunately, Subagaloo could not get out of the chair; his swollen hips were unable to negotiate the tight-fitting arms. As there was no other choice, he waddled across the floor, chair and rump temporarily attached, to the incessantly ringing phone.