“But you can't market your product in Sunshine?”
“We make up the difference in the other states.”
Thus, it seemed, Sunshine was simply passing its problem on to the other states. The crackdown was mostly for show.
That was enough for the State Legislature, A bill of impeachment was introduced and debated, and somehow it sailed through with phenomenal velocity. Objections were brushed aside or voted down by bloc—and therein was another pattern. A narrow majority was held by the members of a coalition formed of the more conservative members of my own party and those of President Tocsin's party. It was evident that Tocsin, perceiving an opportunity, had issued a private directive, and they were obeying with partisan discipline. This was his chance to, as he had put it during my trip to Saturn, see me hung by the balls. It hardly mattered what the facts were; the opposition was determined to see to my undoing. I, it seemed, had been fool enough to provide them an opening.
Megan seemed almost resigned. “I had just begun to believe that that man would not succeed in getting you as he got me,” she said sadly. She meant Tocsin, of course. “It can be very hard for an honest person to anticipate the deviousness of one like him.”
The Senate voted, and just like that, I was impeached, found guilty, and removed from office.
All this hurt, of course, but my attention was distracted by more immediate concerns. A grand jury had been formed to investigate me, with an eye to arranging for criminal prosecution. I could, all too soon, find myself in prison. But what really upset me was the demolition of my reputation. Why was no one ready to believe the truth? I had been a hero; now I was a criminal in the eyes of the public. I had been shaken and disgusted by the adverse reaction to the pardon earlier; now I was shaken and disgusted and angry. I was determined to do something about it.
I used my own connections to ferret out the agents of the plot against me. Specifically, I called QYV.
That nefarious organization had caused me trouble in space, but was now more or less on my side.
I didn't even have to explain. My call was answered by Reba. She was older than she had been, her hair graying, but, of course, that could be camouflage. I got the impression that she had been rising through her echelons just as Khukov had been doing through his and I had through mine—until recently.
“It's about time you called,” she said severely. “You made the perhaps fatal error of losing your paranoia and allowing the conspirators to catch you.”
“I'll try to be more paranoid henceforth,” I said humbly.
“It's a frame, of course,” she continued. “Tocsin made a deal with the drug moguls to eliminate a mutual enemy. But you can still prevail if you get the truth before the public.”
“The public will assume I'm just trying to cover up my guilt,” I said dispiritedly.
She smiled. “You merely need to use the appropriate avenue.”
“Avenue?”
She sighed. “I'm really not supposed to give you advice, you know.”
“But your career is hitched to mine, isn't it?” I asked her, knowing it was true. She was good at concealing her reactions but not good enough. “You gained some of your own objective when I cracked down on the drug trade in Sunshine, and you will gain more if I get into a position to extend that crackdown. You don't want to throw me away.”
She grimaced. “Just remember who helped you when, Hubris.”
“I have never had a problem with my memory.”
“Send Sancho to Thorley.” She clicked off.
I pondered that, and indeed the avenue became apparent. I talked to Spirit, and she nodded. “Why didn't we think of that?”
“We have not been devious enough,” I said. “I realize this is a sacrifice for you, however.”
“Not as great a sacrifice as your career,” she said. “It may be time to retire Sancho, anyway; he has become a liability.”
In due course Thorley's response appeared. He had, it seemed, interviewed Sancho, that mysterious figure. The key portion went like this: “What is your identity?”
“I am Sancho.” The figure was exactly as described by the courier: small, scarred face, gloves, and the speech in a hoarse whisper. Obviously a fugitive Hispanic.
“The one who accepted the money for Governor Hubris?”
“No! I never accepted any money from anyone.”
“But the money was found in the warehouse that you—”
“No, señor. I was not there. I was elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere? Where?”
“I cannot say.”
“Will you appear before a grand jury or legislative committee and tell your story under oath?”
“No, señor .”
“Why not?”
“Because I have no existence here.”
“No legal papers? No citizenship?”
“Sancho—he does not exist.”
“Oh, a pseudonym! And if the person you really are is discovered—”
“Much trouble, señor ! I must be secret.”
Thorley turned to speak to the audience directly. “I agreed to interview Sancho anonymously; that is, to honor his privacy of identity. I shall not violate that pledge. I shall just say that I have satisfied myself that this is indeed Sancho, and that he has convinced me that he was elsewhere at the time he was reported to be accepting the payments for Governor Hubris. I believe that this portion of the charge against Governor Hubris is false.”
The report was a news sensation. Thorley was obviously no fan of mine, and his reputation for integrity was impeccable. A wedge had been driven into the case against me, and that case was beginning to split.
There was a flurry of investigation into the matter, none of which succeeded in locating Sancho, who seemed to have vaporized after the interview. No evidence was produced that Sancho had been in the vicinity of the critical warehouse in the past six months but also none that he hadn't been there. The drug moguls had chosen well, in implicating Sancho, because of his inability to exonerate himself.
Still, the interview helped. Analyses were done of the recorded image and voice of Sancho, his scarred face and gloved hands, and it was established that this was indeed he. Sancho had always operated in deep privacy, but he was not a ghost. There were scattered pictures of him, and there were people who had met him in passing. Stress analysis of his voice indicated that he was not lying. Thus the challenges to Thorley's presentation came to nothing, and it rapidly assumed the status of fact.
This, however, did not establish my innocence. I could have used some other intermediary who resembled Sancho, though no such personage was in evidence. The drug moguls insisted that Sancho had accepted the money and could not be exonerated unless he was physically interrogated. The opposition had a vested interest in maintaining the case against me. The money had been delivered to that warehouse, after all. So Sancho seemed halfway innocent, but I still seemed guilty. It was a perplexing situation.
We sent Sancho to Thorley again. Two weeks after the interview, Thorley followed up with a written column on the subject. I quote it here entire, because in retrospect I perceive it as the pivotal point in my career.
LET JUSTICE BE DONE
Thorley
I dislike, on principle, to involve myself personally in the events I analyze professionally. Nevertheless, on occasion this becomes necessary, and this is one such.
My relationship with Hope Hubris extends back fourteen years. I covered his first political candidacy, in the course of which I intercepted an attack directed against him and his family. I have been asked, since that event, why I bothered. I can only answer that it is possible for honest men to differ, and I do differ philosophically with Hubris, but I do not espouse assassination as a mode of politics. I do not doubt that Hubris would have done the same for me. One reacts to a given circumstance as one must, and situations are not always of our choosing.
During that encounter Hubris promised me that never would he interfere with the freedom of the press.
One might consider this to be irrelevant to the issue, but it is as important to me as my life. I do not suggest that Hubris would have been inclined to suppress the media, merely that he was thereafter committed to uphold the free dissemination of news at all times. He has been scrupulous in this regard and has denied the press no information that pertained to its legitimate interests. The press, I might add, has not treated him kindly in return. Were Hubris not a man of honor, the press might have found itself in less comfortable circumstance in the state of Sunshine; certainly other governors have had little difficulty circumventing the Sunshine Law that keeps public affairs open to the public that both press and government supposedly serve. When, as governor, Hubris traveled to Saturn, I asked to accompany him, as a representative of the press; he acquiesced with perfect courtesy throughout, though this can hardly have been his preference. He has also seen to it that I have had direct access to information concerning his activities. I have considered such news carefully and published what I have deemed relevant, without regard to his preferences or opinions. It is standard policy for politicians to blacklist the purveyors of critical views, but never has Hubris practiced this; the flow of information has continued unabated. Hope Hubris, however wrongheaded his political and social views may be, is a man of his word. For this, if nothing else, he is to be respected.
Now he stands accused of the single charge I cannot credit. I simply do not believe that Hubris ever deceived the electorate about his positions or actions, or accepted a political bribe. If he had done so he would have released it as news. It is therefore my thesis that the charge on which he was impeached is false and that he was wrongfully removed from office as governor of the state of Sunshine. It would have been proper to remove him in protest to his open political policies; but it is an abomination to do so on the basis of a lie.
I have more specific evidence of falsification of the evidence against Governor Hubris. It was stated that approximately half a billion dollars was paid to him by the agency of an employee of his sister Spirit Hubris, a mystery man named Sancho. Sancho claims that he did not act in this capacity. However, Sancho is not considered to be a reliable witness, because of his lack of identity. He refused to testify under oath and therefore was deemed suspect.
Now I happen to believe in the right of the individual to be free of government coercion. Therefore I protected Sancho's true identity, as it is also the duty of the fourth estate to honor the anonymity of private sources. But now, perceiving that no less an action will enable justice to be served, I have prevailed upon Sancho to make the requisite testimony and to reveal his identity to the public. In fact, I shall do it for him, and allow others to follow up this revelation as they may elect.
Sancho is in fact a disguise used for convenience by Spirit Hubris herself. It is not necessarily appropriate, even in these enlightened times, for an attractive woman of any age to travel widely alone, particularly when she is closely related to a prominent politician whose life has been threatened more than once. Therefore Spirit Hubris has assumed masculine guise, donning gloves with a stuffed left finger to conceal her deformity and removing the makeup she normally employs to mask the abrasions on her face. In this guise, as “Sancho,” she has had no difficulty and has required no cumbersome protection; her complete anonymity has been her safeguard. Naturally she preferred not to have this revealed, because a cover blown is a cover useless. This clarifies why Sancho was mysterious and had no formal identity. He was not an illicit immigrant, merely a fictive connivance.
In this guise Spirit has on occasion provided me directly with pertinent information about her brother's activities. It was she who informed me of the governor's planned venture to Saturn, an expedition that for obvious reasons could not be publicly advertised in advance. When such conflicts between principle and expediency arise, Hope Hubris has compromised by informing me in this direct and private manner, trusting my discretion not to nullify a particular thrust by premature exposure. At times the line between legitimate news and counterproductive exposure becomes extremely fine. In this instance I took advantage of the knowledge to force my attendance on the Saturn sally, in this manner amplifying my eventual report.
It happens that my records indicate that on two of the occasions in which Sancho is supposed to have accepted money at the warehouse, he—that is, she—was present at my office, delivering information to me. I can therefore vouch from direct personal experience that the charge against Sancho—and therefore against Governor Hubris—was on these occasions unfounded. I have also verified that on several other occasions Spirit, herself, was attending public or business functions in other cities, so could not have been at the Hassee warehouse when the courier claims.
Now, simple logic suggests that if part of a statement is demonstrably false, all of it becomes suspect.
Certainly the courier's rationale is questionable; it is nonsensical to suppose that he could “go public”
about the covert activities of the drug moguls without being promptly and nastily dispatched, unless he was, in fact, acting on their orders. I submit for public consideration the supposition that the entire charge against Governor Hubris is false, and I invite challenge by independent parties. But for the moment let us assume that my case has been validated and that an innocent man has been impeached. Let us now consider motives.
Governor Hubris is dedicated to the extirpation of the trade in illicit drugs in the state of Sunshine. His method may be questionable, but his thrust is not. This is consistent with his actions as a former military man, wherein he destroyed the power of the pirates of the Belt, a power that had seemed immune from compromise before. His motive is readily understood; his family and associates were ravaged by pirates.
Pirates raped his older sister and cut off the finger of the younger sister. Captain Hubris became this century's worst scourge of piracy in space; now he is going after the planetary aspect.
The major roots of piracy on Jupiter are the drug trade, the gambling trade, and the sex trade. Now, one might quibble at the particular target and mechanism—certainly I do—but may not seriously challenge Governor Hubris's motive or the fact that, whatever its philosophical merits, his program was the most effective one seen in decades. A true military man, he did what he felt he had to do to get the job done.