Well, it will simply be the old system all over again. You
will be at least no worse off than presidents before SAM. Better even, because if worse comes to worst, there is always SAM. You can feed all the bad ones to him. You will have the advice of the
cabinet, of the military staff. We will help you in every way we can, some of us will sit with you on all conferences. And you know more about this than most of us, you have studied government all
your life.
“But all this, what comes later, is not important. Not now. If we can get through tomorrow, the next few days, all the rest will work itself out. Eventually we can get around to altering
SAM. But we must have a president in the morning. You are our only hope. You can do it. We all know you can do it. At any rate there is no other way, no time. Doctor,” he reached out and laid
his hand on Larkin’s shoulder, “shall we go to the Polls?”
It passed, as most great moments in a man’s life do, with Larkin not fully understanding what was happening to him. Later he would look back to this night and realize the enormity of the
decision he had made, the doubts, the sleeplessness, the responsibility and agony toward which he moved. But in that moment he thought nothing at all. Except that it was Larkin’s country,
Larkin’s America. And Reddington was right. There was nothing else to do. He stood up.
They went to the Polls.
At 9:30 that evening, sitting alone with Reddington back at the apartment, Larkin looked at the face of the announcer on the television screen, and heard himself pronounced
President-elect of the United States.
Reddington wilted in front of the screen. For a while neither man moved. They had come home alone, just as they had gone into the Polls one by one in the hope of arousing no comment. Now they
sat in silence until Reddington turned off the set. He stood up and straightened his shoulders before turning to Larkin. He stretched out his hand.
“Well, may God help us,” he breathed, “we did it.”
Larkin took his hand. He felt suddenly weak. He sat down again, but already he could hear the phone ringing in the outer hall. Reddington smiled.
“Only a few of my closest friends are supposed to know about that phone. But every time anything big comes up – ” He shrugged. “Well,” he said, still smiling,
“let’s see how it works.”
He picked up the phone and with it an entirely different manner. He became amazingly light and cheerful, as if he was feeling nothing more than the normal political goodwill.
“Know him? Of course I know him. Had my eye on the guy for months. Really nice guy, wait’ll you meet him . . . yup, college professor, Political Science, written a couple of books .
. . must know a hell of a lot more than Poli Sci, though. Probably been knocking himself out in his spare time. But those teachers, you know how it is, they don’t get any pay, but all the
spare time in the world . . . Married? No, not that I know of – ”
Larkin noticed with wry admiration how carefully Reddington had slipped in that bit about spare time, without seeming to be making an explanation. He thought wearily to himself, I hope that I
don’t have to do any talking myself. I’ll have to do a lot of listening before I can chance any talking.
In a few moments Reddington put down the phone and came back. He had on his hat and coat.
“Had to answer a few,” he said briefly, “make it seem natural. But you better get dressed.”
“Dressed? Why?”
“Have you forgotten?” Reddington smiled patiently. “You’re due at the White House. The Secret Service is already tearing the town apart looking for you. We were supposed
to alert them. Oh, by the saints, I hope that wasn’t too bad a slip.”
He pursed his mouth worriedly while Larkin, still dazed, got into his coat. It was beginning now. It had already begun. He was tired but it did not matter. That he was tired would probably never
matter again. He took a deep
will be at least no worse off than presidents before SAM. Better even, because if worse comes to worst, there is always SAM. You can feed all the bad ones to him. You will have the advice of the
cabinet, of the military staff. We will help you in every way we can, some of us will sit with you on all conferences. And you know more about this than most of us, you have studied government all
your life.
“But all this, what comes later, is not important. Not now. If we can get through tomorrow, the next few days, all the rest will work itself out. Eventually we can get around to altering
SAM. But we must have a president in the morning. You are our only hope. You can do it. We all know you can do it. At any rate there is no other way, no time. Doctor,” he reached out and laid
his hand on Larkin’s shoulder, “shall we go to the Polls?”
It passed, as most great moments in a man’s life do, with Larkin not fully understanding what was happening to him. Later he would look back to this night and realize the enormity of the
decision he had made, the doubts, the sleeplessness, the responsibility and agony toward which he moved. But in that moment he thought nothing at all. Except that it was Larkin’s country,
Larkin’s America. And Reddington was right. There was nothing else to do. He stood up.
They went to the Polls.
At 9:30 that evening, sitting alone with Reddington back at the apartment, Larkin looked at the face of the announcer on the television screen, and heard himself pronounced
President-elect of the United States.
Reddington wilted in front of the screen. For a while neither man moved. They had come home alone, just as they had gone into the Polls one by one in the hope of arousing no comment. Now they
sat in silence until Reddington turned off the set. He stood up and straightened his shoulders before turning to Larkin. He stretched out his hand.
“Well, may God help us,” he breathed, “we did it.”
Larkin took his hand. He felt suddenly weak. He sat down again, but already he could hear the phone ringing in the outer hall. Reddington smiled.
“Only a few of my closest friends are supposed to know about that phone. But every time anything big comes up – ” He shrugged. “Well,” he said, still smiling,
“let’s see how it works.”
He picked up the phone and with it an entirely different manner. He became amazingly light and cheerful, as if he was feeling nothing more than the normal political goodwill.
“Know him? Of course I know him. Had my eye on the guy for months. Really nice guy, wait’ll you meet him . . . yup, college professor, Political Science, written a couple of books .
. . must know a hell of a lot more than Poli Sci, though. Probably been knocking himself out in his spare time. But those teachers, you know how it is, they don’t get any pay, but all the
spare time in the world . . . Married? No, not that I know of – ”
Larkin noticed with wry admiration how carefully Reddington had slipped in that bit about spare time, without seeming to be making an explanation. He thought wearily to himself, I hope that I
don’t have to do any talking myself. I’ll have to do a lot of listening before I can chance any talking.
In a few moments Reddington put down the phone and came back. He had on his hat and coat.
“Had to answer a few,” he said briefly, “make it seem natural. But you better get dressed.”
“Dressed? Why?”
“Have you forgotten?” Reddington smiled patiently. “You’re due at the White House. The Secret Service is already tearing the town apart looking for you. We were supposed
to alert them. Oh, by the saints, I hope that wasn’t too bad a slip.”
He pursed his mouth worriedly while Larkin, still dazed, got into his coat. It was beginning now. It had already begun. He was tired but it did not matter. That he was tired would probably never
matter again. He took a deep
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