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"They are, and I must," nodded the admiral.
"And you are aware, are you not, how an American citizen gets into Congress?" And before
Nelson could answer, if indeed he was going to answer, Parker swung about and turned his back. He
put his elbows on the lectern and leaned forward confidentially. "My friends," he said confidentially,
"thirty years ago, when I was a young man with the paint wet on the sign on the door of my law
offices back in Springfield, I had little thought that the day would come when I would find myself
standing here in such distinguished company. I love Springfield, mind you; why, one day I said to my
wife, 'Mrs. Parker,' I said (I used to call her Mrs. Parker) 'Mrs. Parker, I love Springfield, and I
don't ever want to leave it.' And she said, 'Mr. Parker' she didn't always call me that; just when I
called her Mrs. Parker 'Mr. Parker,' she said, 'One day you will leave, no matter how much you love
Springfield. And that will be the day you find out how much Springfield loves you.' And for the
longest time I didn't know whatever in the world she meant by that, and when I'd ask her she'd just
smile. Well, sir, the time came when I was a candidate, and it was the vote of my own home town that
swung the balance and sent me to Washington. Then I knew what she meant. And that's a story I tell
you with humility, gentlemen, not with pride."
One of Zucco's younger and noisier supporters shouted, "Get to the point!"
The President rapped sharply, and the young man subsided. Parker gave him a long, still stare,
holding it until he heard the first impatient murmur and foot-shuffling, and then went on:
"I took the floor today, thanks to the courtesy and kindness of the speaker and of the President
there, promising you that by my doing so, you would see a resolution of this unfortunate deadlock.
And see it you shall, for in my thirty years in Congress and mind you, in thirty years you make a lot
of enemies there is one thing I may say in all humbleness I am known for, and that is that I am a
man of my word.
"Now this deadlock here is not one whit different from the deadlock over the issue of the Public
Health Bill in the 89th Congress. Let me sketch briefly the issues. Here we are engaged in a matter of
life and death we were there also. Here it is a question of well, not law, not precedent, but what's
the human thing to do. Back there in Washington, D.C., we faced the same grave question. Now this
bill, this public health measure, was "
Back on the submarine, Chip Morton, having slowly reached a profound scowl which had begun
with a puzzled frown when the Congressman began to speak, growled, "Now what the hell is that old
windbag up to? He's sitting smack on the ways, holding up the whole shebang."
"I don't know, said the Captain. "There's something here that doesn't quite meet the eye. I feel
like I just got a letter I knew was important but it was written in invisible ink."
"Aw, Parker just couldn't resist the sight of a lectern."
"Chip, you may not like him not many folks do but you never heard of him doing anything
without a reason. I never heard him talk unless he had something to say.... Where's the O.O.M.?"
They peered at the screen, where the Congressman was asking his audience to bear in mind the
point he had just made, and, "On the other hand, certain pressure groups in the pharmaceutical
industry, of course from the best of motives I never doubted that they were honorable men "
"I thought I saw those five stripes to the left of the picture, but I sure don't now," said Chip
Morton. "I wish they'd give us another camera angle..."
As by magic, his wish was granted. The director in the TV booth, having tired of the head-on
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view of Congressman Parker, cut to a profile. Behind him could be seen a few officials and some
empty seats.
"He's gone! There's B.J., but Cathy's not there, nor the Old Old Man!"
Crane grabbed the exec's biceps so hard that Chip yelped. "Chip!" rapped the Captain. "How
does a citizen get into Congress?"
"He runs for it. What's that got to do with Oh, Holy sweet Pete!"
The Captain shouldered past him and dove to the console. He palmed the klaxon, snatched up the
P.A. mike and roared, "Condition yellow! Condition yellow! Now all hands, hear this! Mr. Gleason,
lay up on deck with a detail and cast off bow, stern and both spring lines. Everything but the
gangplank. On the double, man, jump! Once your lines are off, bring all hands inboard and you
personally stand by the hatch control. Engines!"
"Engines," the speaker acknowledged.
"Stand by for full operation. Mr. O'Brien!"
"O'Brien here, sir."
"Watch your trim, mister. Call for what way you need, but hold her where she is, to the eyelash.
A yard out and you'll carry away the gang plank: that must not happen. Dr. Jamieson!"
"Sick bay: Jamieson."
"Doc, is that castaway fit to go ashore? Can you get him on the dock in thirty seconds?"
"Not in thirty seconds, sir."
"Then forget it. Dr. Hiller!"
The clear cool voice came floating out of the speaker: "Yes, Captain Crane."
"Get ashore. You have twenty seconds. Goodbye."
"Gleason reporting, sir. All lines off."
"Good. See anybody on the dock?"
"Yes, sir. UN Security guards is all."
"How many?"
"Six, sir."
"Very good. Chip, put a scanner on Number Two screen for me, and let's have a look at the
gangplank and the dock area."
"Aye, sir."
The Captain looked anxiously at the big screen, where Parker was holding forth about a citizen's
group, a grass-roots group, un-financed, small, weak, but gentlemen, citizens, at loggerheads with the
big drug combines. And gentlemen, the little man has to be heard, or you don't have a democracy at
all.
The Captain wagged his head and barked, "Where the hell's my dockside scanner?"
"Engine-room's got 'em all locked up, Cap'n," said Chip. "O'Brien's using all the eyes he can get
to hold her steady and spare you your gangplank."
"Third. Where the hell's the oh, there you are, Hodges. Go squat in the nose there and get a fix
on a piling. If she so much as creeps an inch, sing out which way and how much." As the third officer
sprinted into the glass bows, Crane turned to the console. "O'Brien!"
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"O'Brien here, sir."
"Turn loose a scanner for me. I've got Hodges watching in the bows and he'll report if she shifts
at all."
"Aye, sir."
"Okay, Chip, get me that dockside pic."
The smaller screen flickered and then spread out a picture of the wide apron of the pierhead. In
the foreground could be seen the shore end of the gangway. Six UN guards lounged about, two at the
gangplank and the other four back near the far side of the wide apron.
The Congressman's voice continued to drone out of the TV. Crane grinned up at the image
admiringly, and was in time to see Zucco rising like a thunderhead. "Mr. President!" he roared.
The Congressman stopped politely and cocked his head, birdlike.
"Mr. President," bellowed the scientist, "may I ask the interminably sesquipedalian legislator to
be kind enough to make his point and let us get on with the day's business?"
Instead of attempting to answer, Parker turned and looked appealingly at the chair. The President
banged down the rustle of reaction with his gavel and said, conciliatingly, "Mr. Parker, what you have [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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