"I am the Marquez de la Rosa, as everyone knows. It is my pleasure to run for vice-president of this world, under the leadership of my kinsman. Sir Hector Harapo, Knight of the Beeday, gentleman botanist and ftill-time recluse. Who has left the quiet of his laboratory and gardens to come to the aid of his planet. Without further ado, let me introduce to you the next President of Paraiso-Aqui ., . Sir Hector!" Screams, whistles, yells, you know the sort of thing. I waved until my arms were tired, then gave the signal for the fanfare again, while at the same time I pressed the floor button with my toe that sent a quick shot of subsonics through the floor of the stadium. This sound could not be heard, but it would produce a depressant effect on everyone present. The crowd was instantly silent, and I saw tears in more than one eye. Must remember to turn down the subsonic volume. I spoke into the waiting silence.
"Men and women voters, welcome visitors from other worlds, I bring you news of great joy. " I turned off the depressants and toed in the stimulants. The crowd began to smile with great joy even before they heard the news. "Within a few weeks we are going to have an election. At that time you will have a chance to vote for me for president. And why should you vote for me you might ask? Well I'll give you one very important reason. I'm not Julio Zapilote, that's why!" That produced a good deal of enthusiastic reaction and I took the opportunity to pour out some water-flavored gin from the carafe before me. I took a few good swallows before I carried on.
"Vote for me and end corruption in high places. Vote for me and I'll have the Ultimados working as swimming instructors on a shark farm. Vote-for me and see what honest government can really be like. I promise an ox in every pot, a gallon of wine in the cupboard, an abolition of all taxes, six weeks annual holiday with pay, a thirty-hour work week, retirement with full pay at the age of fifty for every registered member of the Nobles and Peasants and Workers Partyvolunteers will pass among you handing out membership forms-free bull fights every Sunday, off-track betting by licensed bookmakers, plus a few other things that I will think of soon..." My last words were drowned out by enthusiastic cheering that had no need of subsonics. If the voting were held at this moment-and the machines not rigged-1 would have received every vote. I sat down, still waving, then sipped at my restorative glass.
"Didn't you promise a few things you can't deliver?" Angelina asked. I nodded.
"No one believes election promises, particularly the politicians who make them. The purpose of the talk and this rally is just to stir up enthusiasm." "Well you certainly have done that." "Good. A few more speeches and we call it a day. Because we have a busy night's work ahead of us." And busy indeed it was. The rally finally ended, we fought our way through the enthusiastic crowds to the cars, then moved out onto the highway with the other traffic. The return trip was happily uneventful and no sooner had we entered the hotel suite than the action began. "Are you ready boys?" I asked, tearing out great handfuls of beard in my enthusiasm to get into action.
"We are!" they chorused.
"Then report. " I slipped out of my formal clothes and into my fighting gear. Bolivar read from his notes.
"All major news items are issued by the Ministry of Information to the various media. Resident censors monitor the final copy at each newspaper and at the Broadcasting Center. Pre-recorded news goes from there to the satellites for rebroadcast on radio and television." "How many satellites are there?" "Eighteen of them, in geostationary orbits. They blanket the planet. Their signals are either received by personal dish antennas or communal piped systems." "That's the news I have been waiting to hear," I chortled as I zipped up my soft-soled shoes. "We will just have to forget the newspapers for the moment. It would be too much trouble to sabotage each and every one of them. In any case. I'm sure the broadcast media are the most popular. And vulnerable. What we need next are floorplans of the Broadcasting Center and a diagram of their technical setup. " Bolivar handed me the first, James the second. It was almost too much. I coughed away what might have been a sob and hoped they didn't notice the glisten in the old stainless steel rat's eyes. What fine lads they were, how intelligent in the application of their benevolent crockery!
"We've compared one to the other," Bolivar said, flipping through the floorplans, then stabbing down his finger.
"And are pretty sure that we have found the weak spot," James said, finishing the sentence, a finger firmly planted on his diagram. I bent to look as they traced their way through the details.
"These are the microwave transmitters that shoot the signals around the planet for rebroadcast to the satellites that are out of line of sight." "And here are the two channels coming out of the program section, radio here-TV here..." "They go through these cables located in this conduit-which just happens to have an access door in the basement of the building..." "Here!" I added, stabbing down a finger and we all smiled and nodded like fools. "But this will need a sophisticated circuit interrupter that will be small and hard to spot, yet will still enable us to cut off their signals and substitute our own whenever we wish. Now where could we possibly find devices I;G,,bn,2'~ James took one from his pocket. Bolivar took out the other.
"Boys, I'm proud of you," I said, and I meant every word of it. The interrupters were flat cannisters, each small enough to fit on the palm of my hand, with a switch and a bundle of thin wires at one end.
"Self-powered," Bolivar said. "Atomic batteries. Run for years. This lead goes to an outside aerial, while these are spliced into the interior circuits. That's all there is to it. When the correct signal is received the material that Zapilote's technicians are sending out is cut off and whatever signal we are broadcasting will go out in its place. They will think that they are sending out their news reports-but instead they will be broadcasting ours." ." "That's good," I said. "But only for a one shot. Once their broadcasts have been sabotaged they will shut down and search until they find these. We will have to go though the whole thing again when we make a second broadcast on election eve. And it will be much harder to set this thing up a second time." James opened a box while I talked and took out two goodsized hunks of electronic apparatus. "We thought you might have that possibility in mind. So we put these together. They're dummies, full of circuit boards and wiring, that we attach in a slightly more obvious location. They have only one function. If they are disturbed or examined in any way, a thermite device inside is actuated that will then burn them to slag." "A neat bit of misdirection that will certainly work. Now let's get out there and do the job so we can sleep peacefully tonight. " "Dad, Bolivar and I can take care of this ourselves. You must be tired, .. " "I am. Of being a politician. You wouldn't deprive me of a chance for a little excitement, would you?" "They would if I could have my way," Angelina said, speaking for the first time. "But I know you too well. So get out there with your delinquent children and crawl around in the sewers or whatever it is you enjoy doing. But don't expect me to wait up for you." I kissed her firmly for her understanding and we exited into the night. By way of the back stairs and an unmarked car. Nor were we followed. We parked a street away from Broadcasting Center, then made our way into it. I mean we didn't exactly go through the front door, but we did penetrate without too much trouble from the alarm system. We shorted it out and entered unseen through a basement window. After that it was just a matter of Bnding the right doorway. The sub-basements were filled with fully automated machinery and empty at this time of night. There was one supervisor at his station, but he was easily avoided. The hookup was a simple one, with the dummy circuit boxes concealed by a partition, while the real bits of circuitry were put under the wire bundle and sealed into the flooring.