It was Trevayne now who leaned forward in his chair. He thought it was incredible. Ian Hamilton’s anger—fear, anger, panic—had caused the lawyer to reveal the connection he was looking for. It was almost laughable, because it was—contradictorily—so naïve on Hamilton’s part. As he looked at Hamilton, Andrew reflected that none of them took him at his word. None of them. They simply didn’t believe him when he repeated over and over again that he had nothing to lose. Or gain.
«Mr. Hamilton, I think it’s time we both stopped making threats. Mainly for your sake… Tell me, does your influence also include Mitchell Armbruster, Genessee’s senator from California? Joshua Studebaker, Genessee’s circuit court judge in Seattle? A labor leader named Manolo—and probably dozens like him—handling jurisdictional contracts all over the country? And a scientist named Jamison—probably hundreds like him, maybe thousands—bought and paid for and blackmailed into unswerving loyalty to the Genessee laboratories? Or Aaron Green? What can anyone say about Green? You’ve all convinced him that ‘never again’ means creating the very same climate of military influence that led his wife and child into showers at Auschwitz. What about it, counselor? Do you want to threaten me with these things, these people? Because I’ll tell you, frankly, I’m scared to death right now.»
Ian Hamilton looked as though he’d just witnessed a swift, brutal hanging, a cruel execution. For several moments he was speechless, and Trevayne would not break the silence. Finally the lawyer spoke, almost inaudibly.
«What have you done?»
Trevayne remembered Green’s words. «My homework, Mr. Hamilton. I’ve attended to my books. But I have an idea I’ve only just begun. There’s also an impeccable fellow, a senator from Maryland, who’s done very well. Another senator, this one from Vermont, hasn’t done badly, I suspect. And the less respectable boys—on the surface less respectable. Men like Mario de Spadante and his organization of good-fellows, who happen to be experts with knives and guns. They’re doing nicely, thank you… Oh, Christ, I’m sure I’ve a long way to go. And you’re just the man who can help me. Because while the rest of them have spheres of influence, you go right to the seat of power, don’t you?»
«You don’t know what you’re saying.» Hamilton’s voice was flat, almost guttural.
«Yes, I do. And it’s why I saved you for last. The last one on my list. Because we’re somewhat alike, Mr. Hamilton. Every one else has an ax, or a need. Something he needs or wants in the money area, or something he has to have rectified or avenged. We don’t. At least I can’t think what it might be. If you’ve got some kind of Rasputin complex, you picked a hell of a way to exercise it; as you said, ‘semiretired.’ Out of Washington… I want answers, and I’ll get them from you, or I’ll parade you in front of that subcommittee as though you were the biggest float in the Tournament of Roses.»
«Stop it!» Hamilton sprang up from the couch and stood rigidly in front of Andrew. «Stop it… You’ll do extraordinary damage, Mr. Trevayne. You have no idea how dangerous your interfering could be for this country.»
The lawyer walked slowly toward the bay window. It was apparent to Trevayne that Hamilton had nearly reached the decision to speak plainly.
«How is that? I’m not unreasonable.»
Hamilton looked out the window. «I hope that’s true. I’ve spent years watching dedicated men drive themselves to unendurable lengths trying to wrench vital decisions from the bureaucracy. I’ve seen executives in agencies throughout the government openly weep, scream at their subordinates, even destroy their marriages … because they were caught in the political labyrinth, their ability to act numbed by the counterthrust of indecision. Most tragic, I’ve stood helplessly by while this nation very nearly was plunged into catastrophe because men were too frightened to take positions, too concerned with their constituencies to accept the mantles of responsibility.» Hamilton turned from the window and looked at Andrew. «Our government has reached the point of unmanageability, Mr. Trevayne. It’s across-the-board; it’s not restricted to any one area. We’ve become a grotesque, awkward, fumbling giant. Instant communications have brought the decision-making processes into the living rooms of two hundred million uninformed households. And in this democratization we’ve necessarily lowered our standards abysmally. We have settled, strived for … mediocrity.»
«That’s a pretty bleak picture, Mr. Hamilton. I’m not sure it’s an accurate one; not to the extent you describe.»
«Of course it is, and you know it.»
«I wish you’d stop saying that. I don’t know it.»
«Then you’ve lost your powers of observation. Take the past two decades. Forgetting for a minute the extraterritorial problems such as Southeast Asia, Korea, the Middle East, the Bay of Pigs, the Berlin Wall, NATO—all of which could have been handled with infinitely greater wisdom by unencumbered leaders—let’s look at the country itself. An inscrutable, totally unreliable economy; terrible recessions, inflation, mass unemployment. The urban crises which threaten revolution, and I mean armed revolution, Mr. Trevayne. The abusive riots; the overreactions of police and National Guard; labor and corporate corruption; uncontrolled strikes; utility services lost for weeks; a dissolute military, rife with incompetency and inadequate command. Can you say these are the products of an orderly society, Trevayne?»
«They’re the result of a country undergoing a very skeptical self-examination. We have different viewpoints. A lot of it’s terrible … even tragic; there’s a lot that’s healthy, too.»
«Nonsense… Tell me, you started a business; you made a success of it. Would you have done so if the decisions were allowed to be made by your clerks?»
«We were the specialists. It was our job to make the decisions.»
«Then can’t you see? The clerks are making national and international decisions!»
«The clerks elect the specialists. The voting booth—»
«The voting booth is the answer to mediocrity’s prayer!… If only restricted to these times.»
Trevayne looked up at the elegant lawyer, willing to give Hamilton more rope. «Whatever your motives, the subcommittee has to be convinced there’s no gross illegality. We’re not … inquisitors; we’re reasonable.»
«There’s no illegality, Mr. Trevayne,» Hamilton went on, more gently. «We are an apolitical group of men who are trying solely to contribute. With no thoughts of self-aggrandizement.»
«How does Genessee Industries fit in? I have to know that.»
«Merely an instrument. An imperfect one, to be sure; but you’ve learned that …»
What followed frightened Trevayne more than he thought possible. Emphasized by Hamilton’s quiet benevolence. The lawyer would not deal in specifics, but what he described in generous abstractions was a government potentially more powerful than the nation in which it was housed.
Genessee Industries was far more than «an instrument.» It was—or was intended to become—a council of the elite. Through its mammoth resources those privileged to execute Genessee’s policies would be capable of rushing in where national problems were critical—before those problems disintegrated into chaos. This capability was, of course, years off; but in lesser examples Genessee had already proven itself, justified the considered projections of its architects. There were unemployment areas pulled out of the doldrums by Genessee; labor disputes settled reasonably in scores of strike-bound plants; companies saved from bankruptcy, resurrected by Genessee management. These were essentially economic problems; there were other kinds. In science, the Genessee laboratories were working on major socioscientific studies that would be invaluable in the areas of ecology, pollution. Inner-city disease crises had been averted with Genessee medical units, and medical research itself was of primary interest to the company. And the military. It must always be closely watched, controlled, a true servant; but Genessee had made possible certain necessary armaments which had resulted in saving thousands upon thousands of lives. The military was beholden to Genessee. It would remain so.