“Hmm – . . Dak, how did you ever get into it? Offhand, I would figure voyageurs to be as unpolitical as actors. And you in particular.”
“They are and they aren’t. Most ways they don’t give a damn whether school keeps ot not, as long as they can keep on herding junk through the sky. But to do that you’ve got to have cargo, and cargo means trade, and profitable trade means wide-open trade, with any ship free to go anywhere, no customs nonsense and no restricted areas. Freedom! And there you are; you’re in politics. As for myself, I came here first for a spot of lobbying for the ‘continuous voyage’ rule, so that goods on the triangular trade would not pay two duties. It was Mr. B’s bill, of course. One thing led to another and here I am, skipper of his yacht the past six years and representing my guild brothers since the last general election.” He sighed. “I hardly know how it happened myself.”
“I suppose you are anxious to get out of it. Are you going to stand for re-election?”
He stared at me. “Huh? Brother, until you’ve been in politics you haven’t been alive.”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said. It’s rough and sometimes it’s dirty and it’s always hard work and tedious details. But it’s the only sport for grownups. All other games are for kids. All of ’em.” He stood up. “Gotta run.”
“Oh, stick around.”
“Can’t. With the Grand Assembly convening tomorrow I’ve got to give Rog a hand. I shouldn’t have stopped in at all.”
“It is? I didn’t know.” I was aware that the G.A., the outgoing G.A. that is, had to meet one more time, to accept the caretaker cabinet. But I had not thought about it. It was a routine matter, as perfunctory as presenting the list to the Emperor. “Is he going to be able to make it?”
“No. But don’t you worry about it. Rog will apologize to the house for your-I mean his-absence and will ask for a proxy rule under no-objection procedure. Then he will read the speech of the Supreme Minister Designate-Bill is working on it right now. Then in his own person he will move that the government be confirmed. Second. No debate. Pass. Adjourn sine die-and everybody rushes for home and starts promising the voters two women in every bed and a hundred Imperials every Monday morning. Routine.” He added, “Oh yes! Some member of the Humanity Party will move a resolution of sympathy and a basket of flowers, which will pass in a fine hypocritical glow. They’d rather send flowers to Bonforte’s funeral.” He scowled.
“It is actually as simple as that? What would happen if the proxy rule were refused? I thought the Grand Assembly didn’t recognize proxies.”
“They don’t, for all ordinary procedure. You either pair, or you show up and vote. But this is just the idler wheels going around in parliamentary machinery. If they don’t let him appear by proxy tomorrow, then they’ve got to wait around until he is well before they can adjourn sine die and get on with the serious business of hypnotizing the voters. As it is, a mock quorum has been meeting daily and adjourning ever since Quiroga resigned. This Assembly is as dead as Caesar’s ghost, but it has to be buried constitutionally.”
“Yes-but suppose some idiot did object?”
“No one will. Oh, it could force a constitutional crisis. But it won’t happen.”
Neither one of us said anything for a while. Dak made no move to leave. “Dak, would it make things easier if I showed up and gave that speech?”
“Huh? Shucks, I thought that was settled. You decided that it wasn’t safe to risk another appearance short of an utter save-the-baby emergency. On the whole, I agree with you. There’s the old saw about the pitcher and the well.”
“Yes. But this is just a walk-through, isn’t it? Lines as fixed as a play? Would there be any chance of anyone puffing any surprises on me that I couldn’t handle?”
“Well, no. Ordinarily you would be expected to talk to the press afterwards, but your recent illness is an excuse. We could slide you through the security tunnel and avoid them entirely.” He smiled grimly. “Of course, there is always the chance that some crackpot in the visitors’ gallery has managed to sneak in a gun…Mr. B. always referred to it as the ‘shooting gallery’ after they winged him from it.”