The Frankenstein Candidate (18 page)

Finally, brushing off his lethargy, he caught the third bus that passed by.

Olivia Allen sat in the second row, poised, smiling, and flanked on one side by Larry Fox and by Katrina Marshella on the other. Forty thousand voters had registered interest. The venue for the primary debates had shifted to the newly constructed Concord Entertainment Centre; the Town Hall in Concord, New Hampshire, could seat only three thousand people. CEC to the locals, the likes of Rihanna and Justin Timberlake had once filled the venue to capacity.

The CEC was actually selling tickets. At $20 each, it was just meant to make sure the crowd was controlled within the maximum capacity of the new venue of twenty five thousand. It also let the early birds take the better tickets. The media packed the front rows. Rarely had the American public bought their way into listening in on an early nomination debate.

It was to be two days of debating. Day one was for the Democrats, with Spain, Ganon, and Rogers doing battle. Day two was for Kirby, Logan, and Reed. Tickets were not restricted to registered voters of either party.

Rumors had begun to float around about Olivia’s relationship with Colin Spain. A tabloid in Philadelphia had raised the question, no doubt fuelled by Republicans trying to unnerve the frontrunner. She had told Gary to expect this. Gary had brushed it off.
Anyway, it would be all cleared when the world was told about Colin Spain’s plans for her.
She switched her cell phone off. The men were on the podium now.

The venue was full. CEC had sold exclusive rights of coverage to NBN. NBN, which stood for National Broadcasting Network, was a newly created private broadcasting station, and had quickly established itself as a ratings leader in political affairs. Their cameras were rolling. The bell sounded. This was it, she thought—
this was the real test.

Justin Flannery, political correspondent with NBN, was the host of the show. He began by citing the various crises hitting the American economy. Fire alarms are typically false, he said, used only to practice evacuation maneuvers, but the alarm bells were real this time. “It is not a test,” he said, “I repeat, this is not a test.” It was the way he said it; he drew the first claps from the audience before any of the candidates had even spoken.

It was inevitable that the Iranian and the Chinese crises were going to be on the agenda. Everybody knew it. They were prepared for Mr. Flannery. What they were not prepared for was the whole Stein thing, or what had become known as the Frankenstein effect.

Ganon, cynicism engraved in his face, drew the short straw to go first in his introduction, and while that did not allow him to attack the other candidates, it meant he would go last in the concluding comments.

Ganon made an impassioned, nationalistic speech based on his “Restore America” slogan. He argued for federal jobs programs but stopped just short of calling for a halt to immigration altogether. He argued against war and interference in other countries. Olivia glanced sideways, and saw Katrina taking notes.

Amiable Casey Rogers had a negotiated approach to everything. He didn’t say anything definitive enough that he could be nailed on. Rogers, the political Houdini, always had an escape route spelled out prior to uttering a sentence.

Flannery’s questions included the twin crises. Ganon had no choice. He said he would block China and ignore Iran. Spain said he was inclined to block China while he was still studying the analysis of the aftermath of a Chinese currency sell-off scenario. Spain also hedged on Iran, saying, “America has a responsibility to have a watching brief.” Olivia saw Larry smile. Rogers said he would negotiate with China, Iran, U.S. allies, and with Turkmenistan.

It wasn’t until the people’s questions started that Rogers got a knockout blow. A middle-aged man dressed in casual overalls asked Rogers, “Congressman, you say that you would negotiate with Iran and with China. What is the outcome you wish to have in each of these cases should the negotiation be completely successful?”

Rogers hemmed, hawed, and then spoke about the brilliance of industrial giants like Intel, Google, and Boeing and how they were quintessentially American. Olivia fidgeted in her seat as she felt the disquiet of the crowd. But Rogers could not quite bring himself to say that he would rather risk a currency crisis than turn these corporations over to foreign ownership. Of course, he steered clear of Exxon-Mobil. Olivia knew that Big Oil was not something any politician could call “quintessentially American.”

Rogers said he would sit across the table with Iranian leaders, and have a dialogue concurrently with the rebels and the “Turkministers,” as he called them. Still, no specific outcome was specified.

That’s when it happened. It was only one at first. It hit the lectern—but then it was followed by several more. Rotten tomatoes! The man in overalls had lost it. He got up and flung more, this time aiming at Rogers. Olivia caught another hint of a smile on Larry’s face as security staff swooped in. The man threw his bag into the crowd. Someone caught it. As the man was being led away by security staff, at least three others began throwing rotten tomatoes at the podium. A few tomatoes went astray.

A startled Katrina watched one flying object catch the shoulder pad of Olivia’s business outfit.

As the last of the throwers were being led away, the chanting began, “We want Frankenstein, we want Frankenstein, we want…Frank-en-Stein.” Many others, unwilling to throw tomatoes, joined in the chant as Mr. Flannery urged for calm and civility.

In the end, the ensuing mayhem required eleven security guards to evict six people from the center and arrest them. By the time order was restored, Rogers’s lectern was dripped in bloody red, stinking juice, and the litter spread across the stage. “
I hope it teaches them a lesson
”, Olivia thought to herself, unperturbed by the sticky juice flowing down her outfit.

If Mr. Flannery was furious, he did not show it. He knew the cameras had captured it all. He knew he had come across as a calming force that had enabled the suspended debate to resume. The show of wrath, though, was not new to American politics given the severity of the Code Pink and pro-life demonstrations, but it was good for television’s holy grail—ratings! NBN had been the first to capture it. Justin Flannery knew that every other media station would be clamoring for their exclusive footage, which no doubt they would receive for a hefty price, after NBN had exploited its advantage. Best of all, he knew ratings would skyrocket and make him a star. That’s what he was there for—to be a media star.

Only Spain came out of it relatively unscathed. In leaning toward a blockage of Chinese takeover, he exploited a populist anti-China sentiment but carefully hedged against being seen to encourage a currency crisis. By tiptoeing around the issue of American involvement abroad, Spain had managed to avoid an isolationist tag while keeping well away from the fury of the antiwar activists, the numbers of whom he was well aware were growing, even among conservatives. “Keeping a watching brief,” “a last-resort policy of UN troops not completely ruled out,” “working with our allies to find a multilateral solution,” and “affirmation of our principles of democratic freedom” were his perfect buzzwords and slogans.

“That’s how it is done, my dear,” Larry later said to Olivia, with Katrina Marshella nodding in unison as the three of them sat in Colin’s hotel suite waiting for Colin to get back to his New Hampshire abode.

“Is it time?” Katrina queried of Larry when Colin finally made it back to the hotel suite.

“It is time,” Larry said.

“For what?” Olivia jumped in.

“For the announcement,” Colin remarked. “I spoke with Victor Howell. He’s advised us to wait till New Hampshire is decided, although waiting until Super Tuesday would be even better he said.”

“Rogers could die in this race early,” Larry said. “If that happens, our announcement would isolate Ganon. That would be perfect. If Rogers becomes a liability, Ganon could hardly come out and announce Rogers as a partner.”

“But their deal would eventually become known, unless he doesn’t keep his word.” Katrina smiled.

“How so if Ganon keeps quiet?” Olivia asked.

“The Rogers-Ganon deal could be leaked at an opportune time when everyone had decided that Rogers was a liability. Ganon couldn’t deny it without being seen as doing a two-face. And he couldn’t drop Rogers without being seen as lacking in judgment for the deal in the first place. He couldn’t go through with it without losing funds and, of course, voters.”

“Brilliant,” was all Spain could say as he backslapped Katrina rather casually.

When the three of them left Spain to retire in his seventh-floor suite, they caught the hotel elevator up to their rooms.

“Word is that Kirby will choose Jackie Harding if he wins, they are close and she is young,” Katrina quipped.

“She is redoubtable,” Olivia said.

“Yes, but she has chinks that we can exploit once the two-way showdown begins,” Larry offered.

When Larry got off the elevator, Katrina told Olivia that Ganon and Rogers had exchanged e-mails and that they had obtained copies, knowing instinctively that the fire of curiosity was burning inside Olivia’s head but being wise enough to not expose her naiveté at scheming in front of Larry.

Olivia got off on her floor, thanking Katrina and bidding her goodnight. The elevator kept going up to Katrina’s floor. Little did Olivia know, therefore, that Katrina never got off on her sixteenth floor but instead took the elevator all the way back down to the seventh floor.