Heinlein, Robert A – Expanded Universe

expected to be in it.”

She chuckled. “Nor did I. Especially on this side of this desk. Let’s get to

work.” She held up a book. “Recognize this?”

“Eh?” He looked startled. “Yes, Ma’am, I do. I should.”

“You should, yes.” She opened to a marked page, read aloud: “‘-I have

learned this about engineers. When something must be done, engineers can find a way

that is economically feasible.’ Is that true?”

“I think so, Ma’am.”

“You’re an engineer.”

“I am an obsolete engineer, Ma’am.”

“I don’t expect you to do the job yourself. You know what I did about fusion

power plants.”

“You sent for the one man with a perfect record. I’ve seen the power ship

moored off Point Sur. Brilliant. Solved an engineering and a public relations

problem simultaneously.”

“Not quite what I mean. I consulted the Admiral, yes. But the job was done

by his first deputy, the officer he has groomed to replace him. And by some other

Navy people. Now we’re working on ways to make the key fission-power people-safety

control especially- all former Navy nuclear submariners. But we have to do it

without stripping the Navy of their Blue and Gold crews. On things I know nothing

about-most things, for this job! I consult someone who does-and that leads me to the

person who can do it. Since I know very little about how to be President, I look for

advice on almost everything.”

“Ma’am, it seems to me-and a lot of other people- that you were born for the

job.”

“Hardly. Oh, politics isn’t strange to me; my father held office when I was

still a girl at home. But I did my first television commercial at fourteen and I was

hooked. If I hadn’t been ‘resting’ between contracts, I would not have had accepted

the Governor’s appointment-I was just his ‘exhibit coon’ but the Commission’s work

did interest me. Then I was still an ‘exhibit coon’ when he saw to it that I was on

his favorite-son slate. Then, when the three leading candidates deadlocked, my late

predecessor broke the deadlock in his favor by naming me as the other half of his

ticket. I went along with it with a wry grin inside, figuring, first, that the ploy

wouldn’t work, and second, that, if he did get nominated, he would find some way to

wiggle out-ask me to withdraw in favor of his leading rival or some such.”

She shrugged. “But he didn’t-or couldn’t. I don’t know which; he rarely

talked to me. Real talk, I mean. Not just, ‘Good morning,’ and, ‘Did you have a

comfortable flight’ and not wait for an answer.

“I didn’t care. I relished every minute of the campaign. An actress

sometimes plays a queen. . . but for four months I got to be one. Never dreaming

that our ticket would win. I knew what a-No, de mortuis nil nisi bonum, and we must

get back to work. What would you do about pollution of streams?”

“Eh? But that one has already been solved. By one of the Scandinavian

countries, I believe. You simply require every user to place his intake immediately

downstream from his discharge of effluent into the stream. In self-protection the

user cleans up his discharge. It’s self-enforcing. No need to test the water until

someone downstream complains. Seldom. Because it has negative feedback. Ma’am,

complying with a law should be more rewarding than breaking it-or you get positive

feedback.”

She made a note. “We could clean up the Mississippi that way. But I’m

fretted about streams inside states, too. For example, the Missouri, where it is

largest, is entirely inside the State of Missouri.”

“Ma’am, I think you’ll find that you have jurisdiction overall navigable

streams.”

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I do?

“Ma’am, you have powers you may never have dreamed existed. A ‘navigable

stream’ is one only three feet deep, I think. You may right now have the power to

order this under law already on the books. If there is a paragraph or even a clause

on placement of inlets and outlets, you almost certainly can issue an executive

order right away. Today. The boss of the U.S. Engineers would know. General