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moment, so I feigned a continuing search, turning my head about, while I actually slid my fingers across
the last seven symbols and committed them to memory. I did not try to translate them; I just
remembered their configuration.
"Here," I said, as if just finding them. "Scratched beneath the muck, in the form of symbols."
"Under the " Scar asked distastefully.
"That's right. In code symbols. I can read them off for you, if you give me time."
"No. Get out of there. I'll get it cleaned out and verify them for myself."
So I got out and retired to the shower and a change of clothes while a crew got to work on the pit. Scar
had intended to prevent me from actually reading the key term, once he knew where it was, but I had it
locked in my memory in code:
. Seven symbols, fortunately easy to remember because three of them repeated. I
concentrated, burning them more firmly into my memory so that they could not be lost. All I needed was
time to myself and I would have my final memory.
When I emerged, Dorian was gone. Somehow I had expected that. She remained hostage for my
performance on the speech, as did any further doses of the drug to which they thought they had addicted
me.
Scar rehearsed me again, instructing me exactly where to pause for effect and where to raise my voice.
"Do this well and we'll all benefit," he said, and he believed it.
He believed it, but I did not. His employer had to know that a sincere fanatic was much more effective
than an insincere one. Yet I still didn't know the specific nature of the lie. So I perfected the speech, and
indeed it was a splendid effort of its type.
Abruptly I faded out; they had zapped me with a knockout beam. I woke in free-fall; I was evidently in a
shuttle ship descending to the Jupiter atmosphere. It was a good thing I had taken the precaution of
preparing my message for Dorian in advance, for Scar had tried to prevent any last moment exchange of
information by shipping me without warning.
I didn't know how much time I had before the speech, so I got right on my symbol translation. I
visualized the seven symbols; the knockout had not dislodged those precious scratches from my brain.
Scar had wanted no memory loss this time, lest it interfere with my prepared speech. What would this
key term evoke in me?
was 30, counted from the space between ENTER HERE in the open message. I counted
methodically, as the knockout had not yet faded entirely. It came to S. I double and triple-checked, to
be quite sure; it was definitely S. was 9, from the H, and easier to count to P. was 5 from E, easier
yet: I. was one from R, which was itself. , 5 from E, or I again. , another 30 from the period;
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
more tricky, but I got it: T. And , one from the space following the open-code sentence, another space.
The word was done.
SPIRIT.
Chapter 15  SPIRIT
It was two years before the next presidential election for the United States of Jupiter, but that was barely
time to do the job. Spirit was my campaign manager, of course; Megan was my strategist, and Shelia my
coordinator. They worked together, organizing a complex political entity of publicity and fund-raising,
hiring specialists for particular aspects, and dictating the very footsteps of my climb. I really had very
little to do with this; I merely did as directed, much in the manner of Ebony, our gofer. In fact,
sometimes when Ebony was overloaded, I helped her out; she promised not to tell on me. So if I seem to
be glossing over much that is essential to a political campaign, it is not because it was neglected but
because it wasn't in my department. The operation was somewhat like a military campaign an analogy
that would have appalled Megan with every effort made to apply our maximum force to the key
vulnerabilities of the enemy. The enemy in this case was the apathy of the public and the reputation of
opposing politicians. Specifically Tocsin; somehow I had always known I would one day try my
strength against him, to the political death.
I started with several considerable assets: I had a planetary reputation as the Hero of the Belt, now being
refurbished by special ads and news releases. I had a national one as the "rescuer" of the bodies from
Saturn and as the author of the first effective drug-control program of the twenty-seventh century. I had
a sympathy vote as survivor of the fiasco of the impeachment and the Sunshine Massacre. I was also
now the leading Hispanic candidate, with strong support among other minorities, too. My sister Faith [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]