We whipped past the dead bare trees with the windows open to keep me from dozing. It had been a long night, waiting for Halliday at the Twin Cities Airport. A dark horse candidate, sure, but the boss wanted all the presidential candidates covered. So we drew lots and I lost. I got James J. Halliday, the obscure. When his private jet finally arrived, he whisked right out to this laboratory in the upstate woods.
I love to drive fast. And the hours around dawn are the best time of the day. The world’s clean. And all yours. . . a new day coming. This day was starting with a murky gray as the sun tried to break through a heavy, late-winter overcast.
“There’s ice on the road, you know,” Les sulked.
I ignored him. Up ahead I could see lighted buildings.
The laboratory was surrounded by a riot-wire fence. The guard at the gate refused to open up and let us through. It took fifteen minutes of arguing and a phone call from the guard shack by Les before the word came back to allow us in.
“What’d you tell them?” I asked Les as I drove down the crunchy gravel driveway to the main laboratory building.
He was still shivering from the Cold. “That it was either see you or see some nasty scare headlines.”
The lab building was old and drab, in the dawning light. There were a few other buildings farther down the driveway. I pulled up behind a trio of parked limousines, right in front of the main entrance.
We hurried through the chilly morning into the lobby. It was paneled with light mahogany, thickly carpeted, and warm. They had paintings spotted here and there—abstracts that might have been amateurish or priceless. I could never figure them out.
A smart-looking girl in a green pantsuit came through the only other door in the lobby. She gave me a quick, thorough inspection. I had to smile at how well she kept her face straight. My jeans and jacket were for warmth, not looks.
“Governor Halliday would like to know what this is all about,” she said tightly. Pure efficiency: all nerves and smooth makeup. Probably screwed to a metronome beat. “He is here on a personal matter; there’s no news material in this visit.”
“That depends on his x-rays, doesn’t it?” I said.
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” That’s all she said. Nothing more. She turned and made a quick exit.
“Bright,” I said to Les. “She picks up right away.”
“His whole staff’s bright.”
“Including his advance publicity man?” With the overactive paws, I added silently.
“Yes, including my advance publicity man.”
I turned back toward the door. Walking toward me was James J. Halliday, Governor of Montana, would-be President of these United States: tall, cowboy-lean, tanned, good-looking. He was smiling at me, as if he knew my suspicions and was secretly amused by them. The smile was dazzling. He was a magnetic man.
“Hello, Les,” Halliday said as he strode across the lobby toward us. “Sorry to cause you so much lost sleep.” His voice was strong, rich.
And Les, who had always come on like a lizard, was blooming in the sunshine of that smile. He straightened up and his voice deepened. “Perfectly okay, Governor. I’ll sleep after your inauguration.”
Halliday laughed outright.
He reached out for my hand as Les introduced, “This is Marie Kludjian of—”
“I know,” Halliday said. His grip was firm. “Is Now‘s circulation falling off so badly that you have to invent a cancer case for me?” But he still smiled as he said it.
“Our circulation’s fine,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed. “How’s yours?”
He stayed warm and friendly. “You’re afraid I’m here for a secret examination or treatment, is that it?”
I wasn’t accustomed to frankness from politicians. And he was just radiating warmth. Like the sun. Like a flame.
“You. . . well. . .“I stammered. “You come straight to the point, at least.”
“It saves a lot of time,” he said. “But I’m afraid you’re wasting yours. I’m here to visit Dr. Corio, the new director of the lab. We went to school together back East. And Les has such a busy schedule arranged for me over the next week that this was the only chance I had to see him.”
I nodded, feeling as dumb as a high school groupie.
“Besides,” he went on, “I’m interested in science. I think it’s one of our most important national resources. Too bad the current administration can’t seem to recognize a chromosome from a clavicle.”
“Uh-huh.” My mind seemed to be stuck in neutral. Come on! I scolded myself. Nobody can have that powerful an effect on you! This isn’t a gothic novel.
He waited a polite moment for me to say something else, then cracked, “The preceding was an unpaid political announcement.”
We laughed, all three of us together.
Halliday ushered Les and me inside the lab, and we stayed with him every minute he was there. He introduced me to Dr. Corio—a compactly built intense man of Halliday’s age, with a short, dark beard and worried gray eyes. I spent a yawn-provoking two hours with them, going through a grand tour of the lab’s facilities. There were only five of us: Halliday, Corio, the girl in the green suit, Les and me. All the lab’s offices and workrooms were dark and unoccupied. Corio spent half the time feeling along the walls for light switches.
Through it all something buzzed in my head. Something was out of place. Then it hit me. No staff. No flunkies. Just the appointments secretary and Les. . . and I dragged Les here.
It was a small thing. But it was different. A politician without pomp? I wondered.
By seven in the morning, while Corio lectured to us about the search for carcinoma antitoxins or some such, I decided I had been dead wrong about James J. Halliday.
By seven-thirty I was practically in love with him. He was intelligent. And concerned. He had a way of looking right at you and turning on that dazzling smile. Not phony. Knee-watering. And unattached, I remembered. The most available bachelor in the Presidential sweepstakes.
By eight-thirty I began to realize that he was also as tough as a grizzled mountain man. I was out on my feet, but he was still alert and interested in everything Corio was showing me.
He caught me in mid-yawn, on our way back to the lobby. “Perhaps you’d better ride with us, Marie,” he said. “I’ll have one of Corio’s guards drive your car back to the airport.”
