“This is Edwin Rodriguez,” de Torres said. “He will be the presidential bodyguard and will accompany you everywhere. We must not have a repeat of the near-disaster that happened in Primoroso. Rodriguez will guard you, detect and eliminate assassins and generally look after your good health.” I looked the man up and down and tried not to smile. “Thank you, marquez. But while I appreciate the thought I can take care of myself. And I’m afraid this youth might get hurt...” “Rodriquez,” the marquez said. “An assassin at the window!” My ears rang from the sound of the shots-and I realized that I was lying on the floor under the table and that Rodriguez was kneeling on my back. There was a sizeable and smoking revolver in his hand which was pointed at the window. Most of which had been blown away by the flurry of well-placed shots.
“The attack is over,” de Torres said, and the weight was removed from my back. I stood and dusted off my trousers and regained my chair. The marqubz nodded approval. “Just a small demonstration. Rodriguez is my master-at-arms. I sent for him after he became planetary martial arts champion, as well as winning first place in the small arms competition. I have never regretted that decision.” “Nor will I,” I said, looking at the now motionless form of my new protector. “I appreciate the thought. And I am pretty sure that he will have plenty to do once the campaign begins. Which will be within a few days. We must catch Zapilote off-balance and keep him that way. We will begin with an election irally.” “And just what is that?” de Torres asked.
“A form of religious revival meeting where speeches are made, babies kissed, free food and drink consumed by the potential voters. A mixture of carnival, worship and bribery. We will make promises, attack the present regime, and see to it that we have excellent press coverage.” The marqu6z shook his head. “It will be suicide. There will be guns, assassination attempts. Zapilote will not let us get away with it. I know the man. He is perfectly capable of dropping a tactical atom bomb on this rally to make sure he gets rid of us. He would take out an entire city to make sure he eliminated the competition.” I smiled and nodded. “I agree completely. Therefore we will not hold the rally in Primoroso, or Ciudad Aguilella or any of the other major cities. Instead we shall hold the first meeting in the small and undistinguished seaside resort of Puerto Azul.” “Why there?” The marquez was puzzled. Angelina caught on instantly and clapped her hands with pleasure.
“It will be held there because that little town is stuffed full of offplanet tourists. This will guarantee our protection since he cannot permit any of them to be hurt. Nor will he commit any violence in their presence. It is the perfect place for a rally. My husband is certainly using his brains.” I nodded my thanks for the compliment, as well as for the fact that she had not added ‘for a change’.
“How do we get there without being blown up on the way?” James asked. This was indeed a problem. “A good question. Do we go by road or by air?” “Air would be wisest,” the marquez said. “Once past the Barrier, Zapilote’s forces control the roads. We would have to fight our way through. But he has only a few fighter planes and no other air force to speak of. He has never needed one. He controls all the air traffic, owns all the aircraft, other than the few copters and transports that our people have.” “But he could mount an air attack?” “It is conceivable. There are police gunships in addition to the fighters.” “We’ll take precautions.” I pointed at Bolivar. “Make a note to use the MES to amolifv some weapon systems and early warning detection apparatus. If they do try anything funny we’ll get them first. “ “As good as done. Dad-1 mean President.” “All right. The next order of business is a venue for the colligation...” “You’re not even a politician yet,” Angelina said, “but you’re talking like one already.” “Sorry. It must be catching. I mean, at what place will we hold the rally?” “There is a large stadium in Puerto Azul,” de Torres said. “That is where the bull fights are held every Sunday.” “Bull fights?” I asked. It sounded nasty.
“Yes. It is an interesting taurine event. It features mutated bulls wearing boxing gloves... “ “Sounds nice. We must go some time. But for the present we need the stadium for our rally. Which must be kept a secret until the last moment. Any suggestions?” “Let Jorge arrange it,” Angelina said. “He was a tourist guide there so he will know whom to contact. We’ll book it in the name of a front organization, a folklorico display for the tourists or something like that.” “Perfect. Then we swoop down during the day, stay in one of the tourist hotels, make speeches on street corners, distribute free tickets to all the voters. And the campaign is launched. Any more suggestions? No? Then I declare this meeting closed and suggest we all repair to the garden for a drink before lunch.” “Champagne,” the marquez announced firmly. “To toast a successful campaign. And to mark the end to this era of misrule.”
Chapter 20
Our little armada left at dawn, four jetcopters and an ancient fixed-wing aircraft that was stuffed full of our campaign supplies. The sun shone, the day was perfect-until a few minutes after we crossed the Barrier when two blips appeared at the very limit of our radar detection screen.
“They’re on a convergent track. Dad,” Bolivar said, running the reading through the computer. He was in charge of the detection instrumentation; his brother manned our defenses. I looked at the approaching blips and turned on the radio.
“This is the MarquBz de la Rosa flight calling two aircraft now approaching our position. Please identify yourself.” I waited impatiently for a reply but the airwaves were silent. The blips closed in quickly. “Blow them out of the air before they can fire at us!” the marquez said, fists clenched, glaring at the screen. I shook my head.
“They must attack us first. The cameras are recording all this and I want the record absolutely clear that if there is any violence that we were merely defending ourselves.” “Those words will make a fine epitaph for our tombstones. They are within range!” “They’ve fired missiles!” James announced, touching buttons in quick succession. “Counter-missiles launched. Look there, about two o’clock, you’ll see the result.” Sudden white clouds burst into silent existence, then fell behind us as the flight moved on.
“Attack craft turning away,” Bolivar said. They were all looking at me. I could not speak. “They’re escaping, almost out of range.” The marqugz’s harsh words broke the silence. “Fire! Take them out.” James’s finger was poised over the firing button and it slammed down by reflex at the order. I turned away and looked out of the forward windows. Trying not see the two 109 gouts of red flame exploding off to one side. I was aware of Angelina behind me, her hands on my arms, her voice so low that only I could hear it.
“I understand-and I love you for it. But you must understand our feelings as well. They tried to murder us. And would have tried it again if they had not been stopped. It was self-defense.” I worked to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “I understand only too well. But that’s not the way I want it, not the way existence should be. The killing...” “Will be over after the election. That’s why you are running for president. To replace the man who ordered this action.” •There was no point in any further discussion. I suppose we were both right from our own points of view. The paid killers who had flown those craft would kill no longer. And Angelina was right-the only way to permanently end this violence was to win the election.