Bio of a Space Tyrant Vol. 3. Politician

by Piers Anthony

  “And his staff. We really worked on him. And finally he did it. I had a knife. I stabbed him in the shoulder. But he—”

  “You love him yet!” the lawyer accused her.

  “I have always loved him, ever since he mastered me. I always will.”

  The lawyer pounced. “And what does your husband make of this?”

  Admiral Phist smiled. “I understand completely.”

  “Your wife loves Hope Hubris, and you understand ?”

  “Of course. I love Spirit Hubris.” He made a nod in my sister’s direction, and Spirit smiled.

  The Justices sat stonily. How was this affecting them? The lawyer’s gaze cast about the chamber as if he were looking for something to hang on to. They fixed on Hopie. Suddenly they widened in wild surmise. “A Saxon woman,” he said. “Still in love with her former husband, free to travel where she wishes, without objection by her present husband—” He whirled on Roulette. “Where were you, Roulette Phist, fifteen years ago?”

  Roulette straightened. She glanced at Hopie. “Why, I don’t remember. But—”

  “Will you submit to a maternity blood-typing test?”

  Roulette frowned. “You’ll have none of my blood, mate!”

  “Do you deny that you are the mother of that child?” And he pointed dramatically at Hopie, who seemed equally startled.

  Roulette considered. “Where was I, that year, dear?” she asked her husband, her lovely brow furrowing in seeming concentration.

  Admiral Phist grinned. “You have certainly traveled widely, Rue.”

  “This is no laughing matter!” the attorney snapped. “As you, Admiral, should be the first to recognize!”

  Roulette studied Hopie openly. “She certainly is a pretty one,” she said, turning once more to her husband. “She does favor Hope. Do you think I could have ...?”

  Phist had been looking at Spirit. Slowly he nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. “It does seem possible ,” he agreed.

  “But if I claim her she would have to leave Jupiter.”

  “True,” he agreed soberly. “It had better remain secret.”

  The lawyer was flushing, aware that he was being mocked. One of the Justices was quirking half a smile. “Madam, your blood type is surely on record. We can verify—”

  “Lots of luck, shithead,” she said sweetly. “I’m not a Jupe citizen. I came here only for the chance to see the man I love.”

  There was a muffled chortle from another Justice; I couldn’t tell which one. Evidently he understood about lovely women coming to see powerful men. But I knew that none of this was doing my case much good. The executive and legislative branches of the government were already against me; where would the judicial be when its limited mirth abated?

  There was a brief recess following this interview. Admiral Phist and Roulette approached the section where I sat with Megan, Spirit, and Shelia. “Maybe we?” Roulette asked Megan.

  Megan smiled with a certain gentle resignation, then swung her chair around so as to face away. Spirit and I stood up, and Admiral Phist took Spirit into his arms and kissed her, and Roulette did the same to me. Hopie’s eyes widened, as did those of a number of the other folk present.

  Then we separated. “You are still a creature to madden a man’s mind,” I murmured to Roulette. “Your thyme has not yet been stolen.”

  “I know it,” she agreed. “But you would not need to steal it, Hope. It has always been yours for the asking.”

  They departed. Megan turned around again, ending her symbolic ignorance. “She’s beautiful,” she said. “She does still love you.”

  “I gave her up for you,” I reminded her.

  “I can’t think why.” But she was nevertheless flattered.

  Next day the news arrived: the decision of the Supreme Court, by a vote of six to five, with one abstention, was in favor of the legislation. The interpretation stood, and Spirit and I were barred from assuming the offices to which we had been elected. All three branches of the government were against us, and we had lost.

  • • •

  But it wasn’t over. We might have lost, but Tocsin hadn’t won. He had not been reelected. There would have to be a special election, and in the period from January 20 to the emplacement of the winner of that election, the speaker of the house would serve as president. The speaker was of my party and had supported my candidacy; it was entirely possible that he would use his leverage to reverse the legislation that had cut me out. Tocsin was scrambling to get a ruling that would permit him to remain in office for the interim, but he lacked the leverage to secure that. Meanwhile, more ships of the Jupiter Navy were converging on the planet; what did this portend?

  Spirit, oddly, seemed unworried. “The game has not yet been played out,” she said. “Tocsin has been concentrating on controlling the branches of the government; we have been concentrating on the will of the people. Ultimately that will must prevail.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. But she only smiled and went about her business. Evidently she had not limited her endeavors to the normal campaign during my absence.

  There was certainly a reaction from the people. Demonstrations erupted in all the major cities, from Nyork to Langels, so fervent that they overwhelmed the police, who, it seemed, were not unduly committed to their suppression. The Brotherhood of Policemen had supported my candidacy from the outset. All across the land the chant sounded: “Hubris! Hubris!” I had been elected, and the popular mandate was being thwarted by a technicality, and even some pretty solid conservatives, such as Thorley, questioned the basis of that technicality. The common man was angry. In state after state martial law was declared, but it did little good, for the National Guard was sympathetic to my candidacy, too. The migrant workers of the agricultural orbit rioted, doing no damage to the crops but hardly bothering to conceal the threat— in the event I did not take office. They regarded me as one of their own, with some reason. Likewise, women of every walk of life made a more subtle demonstration, as even some opposing legislators confessed ruefully; and those men who sought relief at establishments of ill repute discovered that the girls there were boycotting any man who did not support my candidacy. Something very like a revolution was building.

  A spot popularity poll showed that my general support had increased to sixty-six percent, evidently augmented by sympathy. Mail was pouring in, much of it from those who had become my supporters only after the election had been set aside. Outrage was the emotion of the hour.

  The great ships of the Navy moved closer yet, and I realized that Tocsin had anticipated trouble like this. If he declared a national emergency he would assume extraordinary powers—and would not use them to benefit me.

  “I think you had better pacify the animals,” Megan told me grimly. “Don’t give Tocsin a pretext to go on a war footing.”

  So I pacified the animals. I sought and got planetary video time; Tocsin did not interfere with this, because if I tried to foment revolution openly, he could use that as a pretext to have me arrested and could put the entire nation under military control. If he succeeded in that maneuver it might be a long time before he relinquished his office, if ever.

  I addressed my supporters, in their separate categories, pleading with the Hispanics to keep the peace so as not to reflect unfavorably on their kind, which included myself and my sisters and my daughter; I assured the Blacks that I was doing everything in my power to see that justice would be done; I begged the women to wait a few days more, for something good might come of our various appeals on technical grounds, or from the upcoming special election.

  “I did not come to Jupiter to generate strife, “ I concluded. “I believe in law and peace. Be patient; show the people of the Solar System that you support the same goals I do.”

  It worked. The tide of violence receded, and life returned to an approximation of normal. But it did not recede far; everyone knew that phenomenal activity could break out almost instantly if triggered. The Navy ships orbited ve
ry close, ready and ominous.

  There was unusual silence from the other planets of the System. Even Saturn made no comment. But North Jupiter was the object of the cynosure of all mankind, at the moment. It was as if some critical sporting event was now in the closing stage of an extremely tight contest for the championship, and every breath was held while the outcome remained in doubt.

  Naturally Thorley commented. He pointed out something few people had noticed: There was one of the perennial movements afoot for a constitutional convention to balance the budget. Now the constitutional convention, he explained, was a truly venerable device; it rose directly from the people, by way of the several state legislatures, and once it passed certain hurdles, it could not be denied. This one was now only two states shy of the necessary two-thirds majority of state approvals to become viable, and once it became established, it could not be dissolved by any power other than itself. Our present system of government, he reminded us, had been instituted by the first constitutional convention, close to nine hundred years ago, and could conceivably be overturned by another. Such a convention might be brought into being for a specific purpose, but it was under no binding directive to stick to that purpose. “You may suppose this is a simple matter of balancing the chronically unbalanced planetary budget,” he concluded, “but it could conceivably be the route to tyranny. A fire, once started, may spread beyond the original site.”

  The measure was currently up for consideration in five states, and two of them were Golden and Sunshine. Spirit had been shuttling her attention back and forth between them, and suddenly I realized why. She was working to get them to vote to establish the constitutional convention!

  And it happened. We had strong support in both states, for one was where Megan had been a representative, and the other was my own political base. On January 18 Sunshine ratified the bill, and on the nineteenth Golden followed suit. I strongly suspected they could have done it earlier, but Spirit had arranged for the delay in order to keep this from being a public issue before it had to be. Timing was vital—and now was the time.

  On the twentieth, the day the presidency was supposed to change, the constitutional convention convened. Now it was evident how carefully Spirit had orchestrated this, for a clear majority of the delegates were my supporters. The whole time I had been captive, Spirit had been touring the planet in my stead, giving public speeches and privately seeing to the selection of the delegates for this convention, so that there would be no confusion or delay at the critical moment. The skids had been greased, and the whole thing came into being with amazing ease, fully formed. Tocsin’s forces, supposing they had victory in hand as long as they held me captive, had not been aware of this. They had been blinded by their own connivance, not recognizing Spirit for what she was: the mistress of their undoing.

  Now the constitutional convention, governed by our majority, acted with extraordinary dispatch. First it declared that the budget should be balanced. Then it declared that, inasmuch as neither executive, legislative, nor judicial branches of the government had proved able or willing to do this in the past century, all were to be disbanded forthwith. Then its spokesman addressed me publicly:

  “Hope Hubris, do you pledge to balance the budget without delay or compromise, if granted the power to do so?”

  “I do,” I replied. It really was not a difficult answer.

  “Then this convention hereby declares Hope Hubris, the evident preference of the people of the United States of Jupiter, to be the new government of this nation, effective immediately.”

  Ex-President Tocsin acted instantly. He renounced the validity of the constitutional convention, declared planetary martial law, and postponed the date of the changeover of the office of the presidency, to preserve, as he put it, “the present constitutional system of Jupiter.” In the name of this preservation he directed the Jupiter Navy to enforce his edicts. He was, in fact, assuming dictatorial powers himself, as Thorley recognized.

  “We are hoist between Scylla and Charybdis,” Thorley said when the news service was scrambling for precedents and comment. “Faced with a choice between a tyrant of the left or of the right.”

  “But which side is correct?” the interviewer persisted.

  Thorley grimaced. “Appalling as I find the situation, I have to say that technically the constitutional convention is correct. This is a horrendous abuse of its office, but it does have the power to void our entire system of government.”

  “But the Navy—”

  “Ah, yes, the Navy,” he agreed. “If the Navy answers to President Tocsin, then perhaps might will make right. We are in an unprecedented pass.”

  The interview was interrupted for more pressing action. Tocsin was on again. “I declare Hope Hubris to be a traitor to Jupiter, and I order his immediate arrest. I am directing the Navy to dispatch a ship for this purpose.”

  The picture shifted to the representative of the Navy. Emerald’s dusky face came on. At that moment I knew I had won, for there was no way Emerald would arrest me. “The Jupiter Navy recognizes the authority of the legally constituted government of the United States of Jupiter,” she said. “This authority, as we understand it, now lies with the constitutional convention. The convention has appointed Hope Hubris. Accordingly, the Navy answers to Hope Hubris.” She paused, her gaze seeking me out—and quickly the news cameras shifted to me. “What is your will, sir?” There was a certain relish in the way she accented that last word. She was in effect challenging me to accept.

  Megan was with me now. “Hope, you can’t take power by force!” she protested.

  “I can’t take power any other way,” I pointed out. “Tocsin has refused to abide by the decision of the constitutional convention and has tried to have the Navy overturn it by force.”

  “But he is evil!” she said. “You are not! You can’t do things his way!”

  I pondered that while the planet waited. My relationship with her was the most important thing in my life. “What would you have me do, Megan? If I do not assume command, Tocsin will.”

  She seemed to shrink, turning away from a horrible reality.

  Then she firmed. “It is true. You told me that at the outset. Things have gone too far; the republic has already been overthrown, and a tyrant will rule.” She swallowed. “It is a choice between evils, and the lesser evil must be chosen. Do what you must, Hope; I shall not deny you your destiny.”

  She was giving me leave, but I would have known even without my talent that there was a dreadful price to pay. I reached for her and brought her to me while the planet beyond the camera watched. “Megan, I must have you with me!”

  Her eyes were bright with tears. “No, Hope. I cannot go there. You must go alone.”

  “Megan, I’ll turn it down.”

  “You cannot, Hope. You must do what you must do, or all the planet will suffer worse. You—must be—the Tyrant.”

  “Not without you!”

  “No!” she flared, jerking away from me. “Do it, Hope! Do it!”

  Do it ! Suddenly I saw Helse, my first love, lying in her wedding dress, entangled on the deck of the space-bubble, crying out those words to me, knowing they would destroy her. The love of my life, sacrificing herself for the good of our group. Megan, in my heart, was the reincarnation of that girl, and in this respect she was the same. Do it !

  With the tears standing on my own cheeks, I turned to the camera to give my first order to the Jupiter Navy. I had indeed assumed the mantle of a tyrant, by taking power outside the framework of the prior government, but I feared I had lost as much as I had gained. This was the third and final strike against my relationship with Megan.

  EDITORIAL EPILOG

  The separation of my parents when I was just fifteen was the traumatic event of my early life. It took me a long time to understand it or the necessity for it. Megan simply could not associate with the Tyrant, however necessary she knew his office to be. She was a creature of the old system, dedicated to its preservation.
But she recognized that the society of Jupiter had come to such a pass that the old system could no longer function, as it had thousands of years before with Rome. She knew that Hope Hubris, like Julius Caesar, represented the only hope for the restoration of order. Hope was of the people, and the people would follow him. The alternative was anarchy and disaster. She compromised by leaving him, though she loved him, even as his prior wives had. In so doing, she freed him from the restraint applied by her association, permitting him to exercise his power completely. There was no divorce, but the separation was permanent.

  I was not required to choose between them; I had complete freedom to be with either or neither. Thus I became the most tangible link between them, and every time I went from one to the other I experienced a resurgence of that private tragedy. But I learned to live with it because I had no choice. After all, my father had suffered the brutal loss of all his family at this same age; how little my loss seemed in comparison! Neither Hope nor Megan ever spoke ill of the other to me; in fact, the first concern of each was for the welfare of the other. He always had to be reassured that she was well cared for and had enough money, and she would fret that he was too busy to take proper care of himself. It was as if they were apart only temporarily, and indeed, they longed to be together. But we all knew it was over.

  I found considerable solace with Aunt Spirit, who seemed to have extraordinary empathy. She, of course, hardly left her brother’s side, and devoted her life to him; I honestly believe that the one separation he could not have survived would have been from her. If she was Sancho, he was Don Quixote—with a dream become treacherously real. Spirit had a will of CT iron; any who opposed it were destroyed, and she was the true strength of the Tyrancy. But she was not a cold woman, despite her reputation; she was always gentle and loving to me. Perhaps she remembered her own separation from her husband in the Navy, Admiral Phist, though as it turned out, that separation was temporary. I just don’t know. But that, by a chain of association, reminds me of my father’s interaction with Admiral Phist’s wife, Roulette. Could she indeed have been my natural mother? I cannot imagine Hope Hubris being untrue to Megan during their years together, yet Roulette loved him and, even in middle age, was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. If she had come to him in those early years, before he was intimate with Megan, and pleaded for some token—no, of course not! Definitely not! I just can’t accept the notion that he would do such a thing or that Megan would knowingly accept the situation—and, of course, he would not have deceived her.