“When the shortage first became apparent, I was, frankly, astonished. I had always thought it limitless. After all, it covers nearly three-quarters of the earth’s surface. In our oceans, lakes, and rivers there are 1.4 billion cubic kilometers of the stuff, plus another fourteen thousand in our atmosphere. And in the earth’s crust beneath our feet lies yet another sixty million cubic kilometers, eighty times as much as is contained in all the world’s rivers and lakes.
“Since man became civilized, water has marked his hours, ground his grain, powered his steam engines, carried his ships to far continents, irrigated his fields. The quantity he uses has even become the yardstick of his culture: Backyard societies can get by on forty liters per day per person, but fully developed countries such as ours require more than fourteen thousand for domestic, industrial, and household use.
“But abundance bred indifference. We wasted water– criminally. We polluted water–criminally. Then one day the crunch came, and we became aware of how utterly our lives depend on this all-too-familiar substance, suddenly no longer abundant.
“Why weren’t we warned? Why didn’t somebody tell us the peril we faced? Why didn’t somebody do something about it?
“Well, somebody did warn us. He is with us here today. Somebody did do something about it, but he, I regret to say, is not. It is altogether fitting that the two men who combined forces to snatch our two nations back from the brink of ruin are native sons, one of the United States of America, the other of the Republic of Texas.
“Of Ripley Forte, who today lies seriously ill in hospital, I can only say that he deserves the esteem and thanks of all Americans for bringing the Alamo safely into port. We join President Traynor and his fellow citizens in praying for his speedy recovery.
“But what of David D. Castle, whose rare perception, indefatigable investigatory abilities, and inspiring leadership of the newly created Department of Water Resources first impressed upon the consciousness of Americans the danger we faced and who then did so much to resolve it–what of him?
“Clearly the American people need the continued services of such a man. In the Democratic Party, indeed, his name leads the list of aspirants to candidacy for president in the coming elections. It would be hard to imagine a better man to lead the Democratic Party, to which, according to the opinion polls, only a miracle can bring victory in November.
“Should he become the Democratic candidate, he will be a worthy opponent, and I will welcome him as such, for it is my duty as the incumbent to seek a second term. The record my administration has compiled, which includes, not at all incidentally, the creation of the Department of Water Resources and the appointment of Mr. Castle to head it, and the appropriation of funds which has allowed us together to bring this historic project to fruition, demands that I run and complete the work so well begun. That mission is to restore our nation to its former prosperity and world leadership.
“This task requires the best our nation can offer. It requires brains, imagination, perseverance, guts, and a record of accomplishment. All those qualities David D. Castle has demonstrated. So that we continue to enjoy
the services of this exemplary public servant, I here declare that when, as I confidently anticipate, I am renominated as candidate for the presidency of the United States next month, I will ask David D. Castle to stand for vice-president as my running mate.”
President Turnbull sat down.
The crowd was stunned. It had resigned itself to at least an hour of empurpled rhetoric and had heard instead a brief ten minutes of fact and common sense. It had been prepared to rain upon him a summer shower of polite applause. Instead, surprised by the magnanimity of President Turnbull’s offer, it broke out in a storm of acclaim.
Equally stunned was David D. Castle. Even as the implications of what he had heard assailed him, President Traynor was at the podium waiting for the clamor to subside so that he could introduce the remaining speaker, Castle himself, stunned but not speechless–what politician ever is?
If he hadn’t read the full text of his speech in the newspaper the next day, he would never have known what he had said. He stood up, acknowledged the expectant applause and President Traynor’s gracious introduction, and gripped the lectern. Words flowed. They came by rote, a platitude from this speech of long ago, a banality from yesterday, a quotation, an apothegm, a joke. With all politicians, speech making is a reflex, like blinking in a strong light.
He listened to his own words with only half an ear, and his mind paid not the slightest attention. It was focused on the reply he would have to make to President Turnbull’s high-minded offer before he sat down again.
The old bastard had really put him on the spot. He had begun his political career as Republican candidate for the House of Representatives from California’s Sixth District, and only after he had lost that first election did he switch to the Democratic Party. If he now switched back to the Republicans, few would blame him: He would be perceived as the prodigal son returning to the fold. But flip-flopping yet again in order to campaign for the presidency as a Democrat in 2012, if he lost as a Republican vice-presidential candidate in 2008, would be political suicide.
On the other hand, what were his chances of succeeding if he gracefully refused President Turnbull’s offer and pursued the Democratic nomination?
In a word, bleak. The President had an overwhelming lead already and would take full credit for bringing to North America the water that this very day would begin to flow to the parched Midwest. Even the Far West, from which he hailed and where he was viewed as a native son, was far from solidly pro-Castle, for he had failed to assure their independence of water supply by bringing the iceberg to San Francisco Bay.
But what if he did run as a Democrat and failed this year? Would not his chances of being the party standard-bearer be brighter in 2012? The dismal record of unsuccessful vice-presidential aspirants suggested that they would not. No, unless he ran as a Democrat and won, a very slim possibility, he had better not run at all.
Very well. What about his prospects should he accept Turnbull’s offer to campaign as his running mate?
They were, in a word, very tempting. He had worked closely with Turnbull for the past three years, and the relationship had been cordial. His proven administrative ability and clout with his former colleagues in Congress were portents that he would be granted perhaps greater powers in the coming administration than any vice-president in history. And that experience, with Turnbull’s support, would virtually assure him of election as a Republican President in 2012, when Turnbull would be ineligible to run again.
Moreover, with the two leading candidates running on the same ticket, there was no chance whatever that the Democrats could field a challenger who would have a prayer of election, especially given only four months to do so.
But by far the most important consideration was the copy of Turnbull’s medical report that William S. Grayle had, with some difficulty, obtained for Castle earlier this year. According to the press reports issued immediately after his week of tests at Walter Reed Hospital, Turnbull was in robust health. But that was all a smoke screen. The secret report said that he had inoperable cancer and
had only a 20 percent chance of surviving more than eighteen months. The puffed face was not a sign of good living but rather of the effects of steroids pumped into him to arrest the spread of the disease. The report intimated that he would be dead by this time next year. Whoever was vice-president would become president, with at least three and a half years to serve.
Castle dearly wished he could have consulted with Gideon Sorrow, international banker, political guru, and his handler and secret channel to the Kremlin. In such a vital matter, Sorrow would certainly have initiated urgent contacts with the Presidium itself, but David D. Castle was almost certain what their answer would be: Take the cash and let the credit go, nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.
That decision was the only one possible, given the conservative mentality of Russia’s leaders. To them, revolution was only a catchword. They were careful men, hoarders of political capital, men who threw to the sharks anyone who rocked the boat. They would not want their best-concealed man in the western world to jeopardize his chances of becoming their man in the White House.
Then there was the matter of personal prestige. At the moment he was a colonel on the rolls of the KGB, the same rank Kirn Philby had attained while in Britain’s MI-6. Well, if he became President of the United States, they’d surely promote him. He would become at least major general–who could say, perhaps even colonel-general.