“That cannot be,” he said~’lt must be another. I regret that I cannot be president.”
Chapter 12
I was swallowing a mouthful of wine when de Torres spoke these fateful words. I coughed and choked, then finally pulled myself together. “You wqp’t be president?” I managed to finally gasp out. “I don’t understand.” “My reasons are simple. I have no experience with planetary rule and would not know where to begin. Nor could I leave my estates here in the hands of others. I have devoted my whole life to their development. All of these are sound reasons, but are secondary to my most important reason. There is another, far better qualified than 1. Though I cannot deny that I am tempted by the post, and the opportunity to bring down the despicable Zapilote, I must step down in favor of one more eminently qualified.” “Do I know this paragon?” “You do. It is yourself.” Now it was my turn to sit and think-and be tempted. And it was indeed a temptation! A suitable challenge for a man of my persuasion. But there were barriers.
“But I am not a citizen of this planet,” I protested. “Does that make a difference?” “Usually. But...” I foundered and sank on that but. As an immense idea sprang ftillblown into my brain. It was all there, complete and shining, and presented with the compliments of my subconscious. Which must have been cooking up this masterpiece for some time. But there were details that had to be checked first.
“May I ask a few questions before I give you my answer?” “By all means.” “Do you have any rustic relatives, well connected but shy by nature, stay-at-homes who prefer their own withdrawn company to those of the outer world?” “Remarkable!” The marqu6z shook his head in wonder63 ment as he refilled our glasses but again. “You have just described my grandnephew. Hector Harapo, in a most exact manner. He is Sir Hector of course, a Knight of the Beeday, a minor order. His small estate borders mine-yet it must be ten years since I saw him last. He does nothing but read scientific books in order to develop new strains of bizeocho berries. The truth is that he is not worldly-wise at all, and were it not for my aid he woukf have been bankrupt years ago.
“He sounds ideal for our purposes. Of what age is he?” “Roughly yours. About the same build, though he has an immense black beard.” “The beard will be the easiest part. Now, one more question if I may. Would you agree to be vice-president if Sir Hector ran for president? He would do all the work, but you would add the weight of your authority to his campaign.” “Yes, I would be agreeable to that. But I must warn you, as fine a man as he is. Hector is not presidential material.” “I could argue that-1 have seen presidential elections where ancient actors and proven crooks have been electedbut that is not the point now. What we must do, if you agree, is that in the name of common decency we must commit what some might consider to be a crime. But you must judge for yourself. What I would like to do is to pull the wool over the voters’ eyes in the slightest manner. It will be as nothing compared to Zapilote’s electoral crimes. I think that it is possible to run another man in Hector’s place. A man of noble birth, shrewd, experienced, hard, determined...” As I talked his eyes opened wider and wider, his smile grew broader and broader, until he could no longer contain himself and interrupted me with a shout. “YourselfT “None other,” I said, humbly.
“It is ideal! I can think of no one better suited.” “But there will be difficulties. We must agree on our political platform before we enter into any alliance. You may not like some of the reforms I intend to carry through if elected.” The marquez waved aside any possible disagreement with a flip of one noble hand. “Nonsense. All men of honor and standing agree on this sort of thing. I know by your title that we will have no problems.” “I don’t think it is going to be quite that simple. For instance, what if I were to advocate splitting up the large estates and giving them to the peasants?” “I would shoot you on the spot,” he said with cold simplicity.
“Lucky that I don’t believe in that myselfl” Which wasn’t quite truthful. But I could see where land reform, all kinds of reform, would be a long and slow process on this planet. We would have to start with basics; the longest journey begins with but a single step, as the shoe salesman said. “No land reform, of course. I just said that to mention some of the political questions that we will be asked if this is an absolutely free election. Now there are one or two little reforms that we will have to consider in order to get the popular vote. They are things that I know we don’t like in theory, but we must make a few concessions in order to get people to vote for us.” “For example?” de Torres asked, most suspiciously, memory of those divided estates still in mind.
“Well, for example, we must allow universal suffrage, one man, one vote, and that includes women .,,” “Women! They can’t have the same rights as men!” “Would you care to say that to my wife?” “No.” He rubbed his jaw, deep in gloomy thought. “Nor my wife either. These are dangerous and revolutionary thoughts, but I suppose we must entertain them.” “If we don’t the other side will. In order to win we must support the habeas corpus, abolish torture and the secret police, support public health, give free milk to babies and divorces to alienated couples. We must recognize the dignity of man-and woman-and enact laws to protect those rights.” In the end he nodded agreement. “I suppose that you are right. All of my workers enjoy those benefits, so it might be argued that the public at large deserves them too. I can see where this political business can get very complicated.” “You can bet your sweet title it is. So let us get down to work and prepare a party platform.” “Are we having a party on a platform?” “No. A platform is a statement of the things we intend to accomplish after we have been elected. A party in this context is the political organization that we will form to see that we will be elected.” “That sounds reasonable. And what is the name of our party?” As he asked the answer sorane fullblown to mind.
“It shall be called the NPWP, the Nobles and Peasants and Workers Party.” “Nip-wip; has a nice ring to it. So let it be.” It was the beginning of a memorable evening. Another bottle of priceless wine was cracked and we sat, heads together like the conspirators that we were, making our detailed plans. The marquez was no dummy about life on Paraiso-Aqui, and he knew everyone worth knowing as well. He had food sent in when we became hungry and the session continued far into the night. By morning we were thick as thieves, with all the details worked out, and we retired with feelings of virtue at a job well done.