Alternating Currents Read Free Page B

You’re going to vote for the Democratic candidate.’
     
    Connick said, not unbending much, ‘Not necessarily. But probably.’
     
    ~ * ~
     
    ‘Not necessarily, right. And why not necessarily? Because maybe you know this fellow who’s running on the Democratic ticket - or maybe somebody you know has a grudge against him, couldn’t get the postmaster’s job he wanted, or ran against his delegates for the convention. Point is, you have something against him just because your first instinct is for him. So how do you vote? Whichever way happens to get dominance at the moment of voting. Not at any other moment. Not as a matter of principle. But right then. No, we don’t have to change any minds ... because most people don’t have enough mind to change!’
     
    He stood up and absentmindedly filled his own glass - I wasn’t the only one who was beginning to feel the liquor. ‘I’d hate to be you,’ he said, half to himself.
     
    ‘Oh, it’s not bad.’
     
    He shook his head, then recollected himself and said, ‘Well, thanks for the lesson. I didn’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing you’ll never do. You’ll never get me to vote on the Arcturan side on any question.’
     
    I sneered, ‘There’s an open mind for you! Leader of the people! Takes an objective look at every question!’
     
    ‘All right, I’m not objective. They stink.’
     
    ‘Race prejudice, Connick?’
     
    ‘Oh, don’t be a fool.’
     
    ‘There is,’ I said, ‘an Arcturan aroma. They can’t help it.’
     
    ‘I didn’t say “smell”. I said “stink”. I don’t want them in this town and neither does anybody else. Not even Schlitz.’
     
    ‘You don’t have to ever see them. They don’t like Earth climate, you know. Too hot for them. Too much air. Why, Connick,’ I said, ‘I’ll bet you a hundred bucks you won’t set eyes on an Arcturan for at least a year, not until the base is built and staffed. And then I doubt they’ll bother to— What’s the matter?’
     
    He was looking at me as though I were an idiot, and I almost began to think I was.
     
    ‘Why,’ he said, again in that tone that was more to himself than to me, ‘I guess I’ve been overrating you. You think you’re God, so I’ve been accepting your own valuation.’
     
    ‘What do you mean?’
     
    ‘Inexcusably bad staff work, Mr Gunnarsen,’ he said, nodding judgematically. ‘It ought to make me feel good. But you know, it doesn’t. It scares me. With the kind of power you throw around, you should always be right.’
     
    ‘Spit it out!’
     
    ‘It’s just that you lose your bet. Didn’t you know there’s an Arcturan in town right now?’
     
    ~ * ~
     
    3
     
    When I got back to the car the phone was buzzing and the ‘Message Recorded’ light blinked at me. The message was from Candace:
     
    ‘Gunner, a Truce Team has checked into the Statler-Bills to supervise the election and get this. One of them’s an Arcturan!’
     
    The staff work wasn’t so bad, after all, just unpardonably slow. But there wasn’t much comfort in that.
     
    I called the hotel and was connected with one of the Truce Team staff - the best the hotel would do for me. The staff man was a colonel who said, ‘Yes, Mr Knafti is aware of your work here and specifically does not wish to see you. This is a Truce Team, Mr Gunnarsen. Do you know what that means, exactly?’
     
    And he hung up on me. Well, I did know what it meant -strictly hands-off, all the way - I simply hadn’t known that they would interpret it that rigidly.
     
    It was a kick in the eye, any way I looked at it. Because it made me look like a fool in front of Connick, when I kind of wanted him scared of me. Because Arcturans do, after all, stink - not good public relations at all, when your product smells like well-rotted garlic buds a few hundred feet away. I didn’t want the voters smelling them.
     
    And most of all because of the inference that I was sure any red-blooded,