eighteen “It can be arranged,” she said, kissing me lightly. “That’s for saying ‘We.’ ” “Huh?” I said. “Did I say ‘we’?” Then I understood. “Oh. Look, darling, I’ve got a dandy executive’s living suite, twelve by twelve, upstairs. You had a hard night. Suppose you head upstairs and cork off for a while. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” She kissed me again and said: “Don’t work too hard, Mitch. I’ll see you tonight.”
I couldn’t have done it without Runstead-not in time. He came whistling back from Chi, where he’d been holed up since he pretended suicide, in response to an underground message from Kathy. He arrived in the middle of a Board meeting; we shook hands and the Board cheerfully swallowed the story that he’d dropped out of sight to do some secret work. After all, they’d swallowed it once before. He knew what the job was; he sank his teeth in it. Consie or no Consie, I still thought Runstead was a rat. But I had to admit things were leaping. On the surface level, Fowler Schocken Associates had launched a giant all-client slogan contest, with fifteen hundred first prizes-all of them a berth on the Venus rocket. There were eight hundred thousand prizes in all, but the others didn’t matter. Judging was turned over to an impartial firm of contest analyzers, which turned out to be headed by the brother-in-law of a friend of Runstead’s. Only fourteen hundred of the prize winners, Matt told me, were actually members of the Consie underground. The other hundred were dummy names entirely, to take care of last minute emergencies. I took Kathy with me to Washington to spark the final clearance of the rocket for flight, while Runstead minded the baby back in New York. I’d been in Washington often enough for a luncheon or an afternoon, but this was going to be a two-day job; I looked forward to it like a kid. I parked Kathy at the hotel and made her promise not to do any solo sight-seeing, then caught a cab to the State Department. A morose little man in a bowler hat was waiting in the anteroom; when he heard my name he got up hastily and offered me his
seat. Quite a change from the Chlorella days, Mitch, old boy, I told myself. Our attache came flustering out to greet me; I calmed him and explained what I wanted. “Easiest thing in the world, Mr. Courtenay,” he promised. “I’ll get the enabling bill put through committee this afternoon, and with any luck at all it’ll clear both houses tonight.” I said expansively, “Fine. Need any backing?” “Oh, I don’t think so, Mr. Courtenay. Might be nice for you to address the House in the morning, if you can find the time. They’d love to hear from you, and it would smooth things over a little for a quick passage.” “Glad to,” I said, reaching down for my bag. The man in the bowler hat beat me to it and handed it to me with a little bow. “Just set your time, Abels,” I told the legate. “I’ll be there.” “Thank you very much, Mr. Courtenay!” He opened the door for me. The little man said tentatively: “Mr. Abels?” The legate shook his head. “You can see how busy I am,” he said, not unkindly. “Come back tomorrow.” The little man smiled gratefully and followed me out the door. We both hailed a cab and he opened the door for me. You know what cabs are like in Washington. “Can I drop you anywhere?” I asked. “It’s very good of you,” he said, and followed me in. The driver leaned back on his pedals and looked in at us. I told him: “The Park Starr for me. But drop the other gentleman off first.” “Sure.” The driver nodded. “White House, Mr. President?” “Yes, please,” said the little man. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you, Mr. Courtenay,” he went on. “I overheard your conversation with Mr. Abels, you know. It was very interesting to hear that the Venus rocket is so near completion. Congress has pretty well got out of the habit of keeping me posted on what’s going on. Of course, I know they’re busy with their investigations and all. But-” He smiled. Mischievously, he said: “I entered your contest, Mr. Courtenay. My slogan was, Tin starry-eyed over Stairs, verily I am.’ I don’t suppose I could have gone along though, even if I’d won.” I said very sincerely: “I can’t see how it would have been possible.” And, a little less sincerely, “Besides, they must keep you pretty busy right here.”