The General's President (16 page)

"He got out, apparently yesterday, and surfaced in Islamabad an hour ago."

"Good."

"He made a speech there, in Arabic. I left a videotape of it with Martinelli; it has an English translation. It'll probably be all over the world on the evening news. He really laid it on the Kremlin; called for an Islamic jihad against the Great Russian Satan."

Haugen, tired, grunted, and started for his office with Hammaker beside him. A Farsi-speaking Persian, Haugen mused, addressing in Arabic an audience whose native tongue was Urdu. Arabic was, in its way, as big an international language as English, but the nations who shared it as their first or second language managed to fight each other as much as any other group of countries in the world. So much for the concept that having a single planetary language would engender world peace.

"D'you think anything will come of it?" he asked. "Jalal's speech, that is?"

"Not any declarations of war, that's for sure. There'll probably be some verbal artillery aimed at the Soviets. Chances are some KGB and GRU people will get picked up and disappear, and it's barely possible we might run into a little more friendliness. It might even reduce the terrorism frequency a bit, or redirect it at the Soviets, especially in their Moslem regions. Time will tell.

"This is probably the biggest PR goof the Kremlin ever made; worse than Hungary." Hammaker fell silent then, caught again in the question of why the Soviets would do something so stupid. But then, why did nations, rulers, people in general, do some of the stupid things they did?

They arrived outside Martinelli's office. "I'll look at the tape now," Haugen told him. "It'll give me a change of pace before I put together this evening's speech. And thanks."

Hammaker saluted and left. As he headed for his office, he thought about what the president had just said. Change of pace before he put together this evening's speech! Judas Priest! The old sonofabitch certainly didn't require a lot of lead time.

***

Jumper Cromwell had been sworn in as vice president, and introduced to his new office and secretary down the hall from the president's;
and
his new office and secretary in the old Executive Office Building;
and
his new office and secretary in the Capitol Building just off the Senate floor;
and
his whole damn suite of vice-presidential offices and staff in the Dirksen Office Building.

He wasn't going to get involved in any of it, more than he absolutely had to. Which was very damned little. Haugen agreed, he was the president's backup and unofficial national security advisor, and that was it. He'd had to leave active military service, and of course his chairmanship, before swearing in—a constitutional requirement. But he'd arranged for a small office in the Pentagon, and to stay on all the routing lists he'd been on before. To keep up with things.

The phone buzzed on his Pentagon desk. He reached; tapped keys. "Cromwell," he said.

"General, this is Major Chilberg. It's about our project. I have something to give you."

Jesus
, Cromwell thought,
what a tangled web we weave. Or try to unravel.
"Good. I'll meet you here in my office. Right away."

"Yes sir."

Cromwell tapped another key and returned to the contents of his IN basket. The paper kept flowing, regardless of the real world. The country was still wobbly after taking a standing eight-count; there was war in Iran; and the Readiness Command wasn't ready, although it soon would be again, with the National Guard taking over the entire internal peace-keeping job. Even if the Red Fleet was sailing up the Potomac, paper would flow in the Pentagon. It was part of an insatiable information hunger.

He scanned another memo, initialed it, and tossed it in his OUT basket. Chilberg was in charge of his unofficial research on the Holist Council; there was no guessing what he'd gotten hold of.

***

The president's communicator buzzed. "Yes Jeanne?"

"I found Father Flynn. He's here now."

"Good. Send him in."

A moment later the priest entered. "Sit down, Steve," said the president. "Coffee?"

"No thanks."

"I've been ignoring you. My apologies. I'm still at that stage where I'm running and don't dare slow down. Actually I've gotten on top of things somewhat: I'm through the worst of the briefing phase—the urgent, four-alarm part. I've worked out and issued operating procedures and delegations of authority that save me a fair amount of time and trouble, and I've gotten the feel of the people who work for me. Canned a couple of them, and in general gotten the machinery somewhat tuned up and oiled.

"I'll tell you what," he added, "Donnelly had some good people with him, especially Milstead and Martinelli. They've gotten to be like my right and left arms."

Flynn nodded. "For me, being in the White House has been more like a vacation than a job. I'm enjoying more time for study and reading than I've had since seminary." He cocked his head and looked Haugen over. "You've developed little satchels under your eyes, Arne—not enough sleep or too much reading—but other than that you look well."

Haugen grinned. "I keep making resolutions to sleep more and exercise, but other things keep getting in the way. My health is not top priority; the business of living outranks it."

The Jesuit's eyebrows raised. "And what is the business of living?"

Haugen's eyes held energies. Father Flynn marveled that this man could have so much life at his age. As if he wasn't using it up; as if he created it as he went.

"The business of life? It's whatever you make it," Haugen replied. "Man wasn't born to take care of himself, he was born to do things."

He chuckled. "My first week here, with everything that was happening, Singleton tells me to come in for a physical. I told him I'd had one in August and I was too damn busy now. When he started to argue, I told him to back off, that I'd call him, he wasn't to call me.

"A person does need to keep the machinery functional, but there are times when maintenance and repairs have to be postponed, backlogged, to get more important things done when they need to be."

The priest nodded. "I have no argument with that. But I hope you don't postpone too long. You're remarkably fit and strong for a man your age. Or a man of fifty, as far as that's concerned. Just don't squander yourself."

The president raised his right hand. "I promise," he said. "Matter of fact, I'm flying John Zale in from Duluth. You've met John; he was my executive secretary there. He's going to be my personal expeditor here. I've worked out his job description with Milstead so they won't step on each other's toes. It'll give me more time and take some pressures off Charles; he's too valuable to use up."

Haugen's face went serious then. "This is the night I give the speech on the economic measures we talked about, and right now I've got a case of nervous stomach.

"Will you be watching?"

"By all means, Mr. President."

"Good. You know, I've seldom operated rushed like this before. I'll tell you a secret though: It's exciting as hell. Using the term 'hell' figuratively.

"Meanwhile if there's anything I do that bothers you, that seems unethical or otherwise wrong, I hope you'll let me know. I'm depending on you to."

The Jesuit's blue-gray eyes were steady on the president. "I will, Mr. President," he said. "I will."

***

The White House broadcast room required little preparation for a telecast; little more than lighting a fire in the fireplace. After a late supper with his wife, the president took the stairs down from the presidential apartment, was made up for the cameras, and went in. At 9 p.m. eastern time, 6 p.m. Pacific, he was on his feet beside the fireplace, and the telecast began.

"Good evening," he said. "I'm speaking to you tonight from the broadcast room in the White House." His voice was mild, quiet but easily heard, the words distinct but casual.

"I'm not going to talk just now about the war in Iran, other than to mention that the Soviet invaders captured Teheran today. Many of you have already heard that. We're
not
ignoring what's happening there; the Pentagon is following events closely. But just now my attention is on problems at home. And what I'm going to talk to you about this evening is the economy. Or actually, certain important aspects of it."

He strolled to a desk and sat down. "This desk isn't mine, incidentally. Mine has a computer terminal on it, and it isn't usually this tidy.

"First I want to commend the army, and more especially the national guard, for their vital work in seeing that the distribution of food and fuel have continued and been improved. Without their work and your cooperation, this country would go down the tubes regardless of anything I could do.

"Also at this time I'd like to commend President Donnelly and his advisors, operating under martial law, for their emergency slashing of federal salaries and wages, tying them to week by week economic indicators. And I'd like to commend state, county, and municipal governments for their similar actions. With the crash of wages and prices generally, the gross reduction of tax income has meant much less money to pay public employees with.

"The alternative approach, which President Donnelly wisely rejected, was to print and distribute large quantities of money backed by neither goods nor public credit. In other words, worthless money. If he'd done that, we'd have had several hundred percent inflation by now, or worse. And planning, and the recovery steps I'm going to outline for you here, would be much more difficult.

"I'd also like to commend the American people for their wide acceptance of emergency wage slashing and rent slashing in the private sector. It kept a lot of businesses going, and a lot of people employed. And it kept vital goods flowing.

"Incidentally, our latest figures show unemployment at fifty-eight percent. So you can see why the president's been given emergency powers."

He paused, pursed his lips slightly, then continued. "With regard to federal taxes, I have personally talked with the new Commissioner of the Internal Revenue Service, Mr. Fred Buhler. The recent flurry of IRS property seizures has been halted, with property being returned to the people it was taken from. If any more such seizures occur without proper court action, let your nearest FBI office know. They have orders from me, through Director Dirksma, to handle whoever is responsible. Meanwhile, twenty-three IRS personnel have been reprimanded and reduced in grade. Nineteen others, including ex-commissioner Edwin Balthazar, have been fired, and the FBI is looking into possible malfeasance charges against them, which could mean criminal proceedings and jail sentences. I'm sure that no one will be happier to know this than the large majority of IRS employees who've done the best they could and have tried to operate in a sane and ethical manner."

The president's eyes were direct, as if he were looking at his audience through the camera. "None of this means that tax cheating is all right. What it does mean is that the IRS is not above the law. And that its authorizations do not include arrogant, arbitrary, or vindictive behavior. Also, it means that the IRS, like the rest of us,
needs to adjust its operations ethically and responsibly to the emergency situation.
Right now, top priority goes to salvaging this nation.

"Regarding jobs: The Federal Highway Administration, the Office of Community Planning and Development, and the Labor Department have been putting together a program of public works which will employ several million people within the next couple of weeks. Some of you have seen the first of these public works projects starting up in your communities. To give credit where credit is due, these agencies had begun the planning before I took office, assuming that such programs would be wanted.

"The wages will be low, because the United States Treasury is very low, and because government incomes from taxes have been enormously reduced. But these projects will give a lot of families a wage earner, and the opportunity to buy things they need. And the convenience and dietary variety of getting their food in a local store, instead of having to go, usually on foot, to an emergency food distribution center and stand in line. This program will also provide road and park improvement and new construction that will be greatly appreciated in the future.

"There are several reasons we've been able to actually get these projects underway so quickly. But the central reasons have been martial law and the Emergency Powers Act. These allowed the suspension of a lot of barriers and delays, the slashing of government wages and of payments to government contractors, and the suspension of bond payments, leaving us with something for project funds. These cuts and suspensions have been hard on certain people, but they were necessary adjustments to a critically dangerous situation.

"And that's all I have to say for now about what we might call relief measures. Important as they are, and they are
very
important—vital—much of my attention is on rebuilding the economy on a solid base.

"Basically, the crash has slammed us back to economic square one. Suspension of contract strictures on wages, prices, interests, etcetera, have allowed the country to make the adjustment without going back even further, to square zero. So the question I've been working on is how do we get up to square two and above.

"I've been given a lot of different advice on the economy in the short time I've been in office. You might not believe how different some of it has been. And almost all of it supported by what sounds like convincing data and logic. But very little of the advice was the kind I could put into action for quick, broad, positive results that were consistent with a return to democracy.

"So I decided that if experts had such different ideas about what was best to do, I was justified in starting from scratch to see where logic would take
me
.

"Which I did. I wrote it up and gave it to five economists of generally different views. And got it back with their independent critiques."

From one side of his desk, he took a neat stack of paper and held it up before the cameras. On the topmost, penned jottings were conspicuous in the margins and between the double-spaced lines.