Skyfall

3

“Mr. President, these are the ladies and gentlemen of the Council for Good Government of Topeka, Kansas.”

There were murmurs of greeting and some hesitant bows from the women in the delegation. President Bandin nodded his great head in solemn welcome, managing to convey a strong resemblance to Pope John bestowing a benediction. He did not stand, but met them eye to eye, for his chair was on a raised platform behind the great desk. His bandy legs did not match the noble breadth of his forehead, but none of his visitors were aware of this for the ceremonious hush of the Oval Room impressed and subdued even the most cantankerous. This was the heart of America and here, under the Great Seal of the Presidency, was the head of state.

“It is my pleasure to meet with you fine people from the great midwest, and I cannot tell you how much I back your efforts for good government. Though I understand that good government is not the reason that brings you so far to see me.”

President Bandin waited expectantly, the massive head tilted receptively to hear their pleas. Charley Dragoni, the presidential aide, touched the leader of the delegation on the arm, and nodded towards the President. The man took a step forward, coughing to cover his embarrassment, then spoke.

“Mr. President, I, that is we, want to… thank you for seeing us today. It's a great honor, believe me. What we come about is not so much government, I mean good government, like the name of our organization says, you know…”

“Get on with it, Frank,” the elderly woman beside him hissed behind her hand. The spokesman stammered and his words rushed on.

“You see it's the grain prices at the exchange. We been taking a beating with futures and some people are making a fortune sellin' to the Russians while some of us got to take bank loans for fertilizer and seed crop. 'Taint fair to the independent producer…”

“You sir, ladies and gentlemen, I do know your problem.” The spokesman's voice was cut off instantly as President Ban-din spoke. “I know it well and to be honest it's something that concerns me both night and day. Right here, on my desk at the present moment,” he tapped a thick folder that lay under his right hand, “is the latest study on this important topic and the draft of my plan to alleviate the situation. If there are profiteers they will be punished and they will profit no more. You people who work the soil with your own hands must prosper, not greedy speculators. You are the heartland of this great country and your crops the blood that feeds us all. Your voices will be heard. Thank you.”

With these words as a clue, and the final impressive nod, Charley Dragoni pushed on the nearest arms and began moving them towards the door. An old man, nearest to the desk, was shaking with controlled passion and he called out hoarsely, “Mr. President, I gotta be frank, I didn't vote for you test election. But being here, meeting you like this, it's something, Mr. President, and you got my vote and everyone in my family.”

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate your sincerity and know it is a free choice in a free society.” The President thought for a second, then pulled out his tie pin with the presidential seal upon it. “Your honesty humbles me. Please, take this as a reminder of this visit. It's the last one I have.”

Dragoni passed the pin to the man and his emotional thanks were audible as they all left the room and Dragoni closed the door behind the last blue rinse.

“Is that it for today, Dragoni? I hope to Christ it is.” Ban-din settled back heavily in his chair and loosened his collar while his assistant consulted a card.

“Yes, sir, the last until four this afternoon when you're meeting with the delegation of Puerto Rican Congressmen.”

“More trouble from the spies? They're getting to be worse than the nigs these days.” He took off his jacket and the waiting Dragoni was there to take it and hang it in the closet. “And don't waste your time in there,” Bandin called after him. This message was clear to Dragoni who rattled quickly in the concealed bar and emerged with a large bourbon and branch. Bandin drank heavily and smacked his lips with pleasure, then dug a presidential-seal pin out of the top drawer of the desk and pushed it carefully into his tie. After this he opened the heavy folder under his right hand and took out the betting form and handed it to Dragoni.

“This one with the red line under it, fourth race at Santa Anita. A thousand to win. What about the Prometheus doctor?”

“Finalized, sir. There was some initial problem with Doctor Kennelly but he sees reason now. It's a national emergency and he's a government employee.”

“I'll say it's a national emergency when that bastard Polyarni came up with a girl cosmonaut. After those nice talks at the tractor exhibition; hands across the sea, cooperation, all that crap. And this broad waiting in the closet ready to be pushed on at the last minute. But wait until he has to face his Comintern buddies when he finds out what we've got in our closet. Oh, baby, how I wish I could see his face then I'd give a hundred grand to any CIA spook who could bug the Kremlin room when he tells them.”

“Are you serious about that, sir?”

“You have no sense of humor, Dragoni, none at all. Fill up the glass again.”