“That’s all very well as a theory,” he said. “But we already know their attitude. It’s totally destructive. I just don’t see any way they’re gonna suddenly like us. I don’t see any reason why they should want to.”
“That is where I might be able to help,” Zimmermann stated softly. “My position with ISF causes me to maintain regular contact with high-ranking people in the government, many of whom are close personal friends of long standing. Even before I joined ISF, my work with the federal European Government involved considerable dealings with persons in Washington who are very close to the President.”
Zimmermann paused to let the gist of what he was saying sink in. Three pairs of eyes watched him intently. “I hope all this does not sound too immodest, but perhaps you can now see my point. Don’t be misled by the people who you have had to put up with. Thankfully there still are some intelligent and perceptive individuals in charge of this country, where you would expect them to be—at the top, where the real power lies. I’m not talking about the petty tyranny that is reveled in by the exalted office clerks whom you have had the misfortune of running up against. Now, suppose that I could open the right eyes to what you are doing here . . .” Zimmermann left the sentence unfinished.
Morelli looked at him with a new respect. Certainly if some kind of involvement was the only alternative to wrapping the whole thing up, then that would be the kind to have. Even if some form of commitment to more mundane objectives were called for, at least their basic research would have to continue before such could be realized. That meant they would be able to carry on unhindered, and in the long term . . . what the hell?
“What do you plan on doing then?” Morelli asked Zimmermann.
“First thing in the morning I will rearrange my schedule,” Zimmermann answered. “Then I will make some appointments and fly to Washington—I hope straight away. That part you must leave to me. As for you . . .” his gaze swept the room to take in all three of them. “You will need to take off your scientists’ hats for a short while. I want you all to get used to the idea of becoming salesmen.”
Clifford and Aub looked at each other mystified. They both shrugged together.
Zimmermann grinned. “It is very simple,” he said. “What we have to arrange is . . .” The noise of the kitchen door closing interrupted him. Feminine laughter flooded the room. He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh dear me. It would appear, gentlemen, that business for today is over. I will explain everything in the morning. Ah, there you both are at last. We had almost run out of things to talk about. What do you think of the lake?”
Late that night, while Clifford and Sarah were driving Aub home, the two scientists explained to her the gist of what Zimmermann had said.
“Sounds as if he’s offering to wheel in some big guns for you,” she commented after they had finished. “Things could get interesting. Do you really think he could pull off something like that?”
“Well, Al reckons he knows all the right guys, all right,” Aub answered from the back seat. “And it didn’t take him any time at all to get us into ISF when we had the whole world on our backs. I’d give him my vote. What do you think, Brad?”
“I remember a long time ago—that first time we called him—he said he’d never make promises he couldn’t be sure of keeping,” Clifford replied. “I don’t think he would, either; he doesn’t seem to be that kind of person. That’s what this world needs more of—more credibility in high places. He’s got it, and that’s why he is where he is and knows who he knows, and the rest are bums.” He became quiet for a while and then his face broadened into a smile of anticipation in the darkness of the car. “Boy,” he said over his shoulder. “I can’t wait to see the carnage when Zim’s big guns start blasting. If this all works out the way I’m beginning to think it might work out, I think I’m gonna enjoy it.”