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«Eh? Do you have a brig in the ship?»
«No. But it would not be hard to jury-rig one.»
I looked at him sharply, trying to figure what went on inside that bony head. «Would you actually put Bill in the brig if I asked for it?»
He looked up, cocked a brow and gri
«That's right.»
«Mmm — I hear you've made one of that sort.»
«That's right.»
«So. I've come to have a lot of respect for you, old son. First met you, I figured you for a clotheshorse and a facemaker, with nothing inside. I was wrong.»
«Thank you.»
«So I won't plead with you. Just tell me: is it worth our time to discuss the factors? Have you given it plenty of thought?»
«My mind is made up, Dak. This isn't my pidgin.»
«Well, perhaps you're right. I'm sorry. I guess we'll just have to hope he pulls out of it in time.» He stood up. «By the way, Pe
I laughed without pleasure. «Just “by the way,” eh? Is this the proper sequence? Isn't it Dr. Capek's turn to try to twist my arm?»
«He skipped his turn; he's busy with Mr. B. He sent you a message, though.»
«Eh?»
«He said you could go to hell. Embroidered it a bit, but that was the gist.»
«He did? Well, tell him I'll save him a seat by the fire.»
«Can Pe
«Oh, sure! But you can tell her that she is wasting her time; the answer is still “No.”»
So I changed my mind. Confound it, why should an argument seem so much more logical when underlined with a whiff of Jungle Lust? Not that Pe
The boning I did on the trip out to Mars was as nothing to the hard study I put in on the trip to New Batavia. I already had the basic character; now it was necessary to fill in the background, prepare myself to be Bonforte under almost any circumstances. While it was the royal audience I was aiming at, once we were at New Batavia I might have to meet any of hundreds or thousands of people. Rog pla
The tightrope act I was going to have to attempt was made possible only by Bonforte's Farleyfile, perhaps the best one ever compiled. Farley was a political manager of the twentieth century, of Eisenhower I believe, and the method he invented for handling the personal relations of politics was as revolutionary as the German invention of staff command was to warfare. Yet I had never heard of the device until Pe
It was nothing but a file about people. However, the art of politics is «nothing but» people. This file contained all, or almost all, of the thousands upon thousands of people Bonforte had met in the course of his long public life; each dossier consisted of what he knew about that person from Bonforte's own personal contact. Anything at all, no matter how trivial — in fact, trivia were always the first entries: names and nicknames of wives, children, and pets, hobbies, tastes in food or drink, prejudices, eccentricities. Following this would be listed date and place and comments for every occasion on which Bonforte had talked to that particular man.
When available, a photo was included. There might or might not be «below-the-line» data, i.e. information which had been researched rather than learned directly by Bonforte. It depended on the political importance of the person. In some cases the «below-the-line» part was a formal biography ru
Both Pe
When Pe
«Why, you can't, of course.»
«You just said that this was what he remembered about his friends and acquaintances.»
«Not quite. I said that this is what he wanted to remember. But since he can't, not possibly, this is how he does it. Don't worry; you don't have to memorize anything. I just want you to know that it is available. It is my job to see that he has at least a minute or two to study the appropriate Farleyfile before anybody gets in to see him. If the need turns up, I can protect you with the same service.»
I looked at the typical file she had projected on the desk reader. A Mr. Saunders of Pretoria, South Africa, I believe it was. He had a bulldog named Snuffles Bullyboy, several assorted uninteresting offspring, and he liked a twist of lime in his whisky and splash. «Pe
Instead of getting angry at the slur on her idol Pe
«Eh? Of course.»
«Is it dishonest? Do you apologize to your friend for caring so little about him that you can't simply remember his number?»
«Eh? All right, I give up. You've sold me.»
«These are things he would like to remember if his memory were perfect. Since it isn't, it is no more phony to do it this way than it is to use a tickler file in order not to forget a friend's birthday — that's what it is: a giant tickler file, to cover anything. But there is more to it. Did you ever meet a really important person?»
I tried to think. Pe
«Do you remember the details?»
«Why, certainly. He said, “How did you break that arm, son?” and I said, “Riding a bicycle, sir,” and he said, “Did the same thing myself, only it was a collarbone.”»
«Do you think he would remember it if he were still alive?»
«Why, no.»
«He might — he may have had you Farleyfiled. This Farleyfile includes boys of that age, because boys grow up and become men. The point is that top-level men like President Warfield meet many more people than they can remember. Each one of that faceless throng remembers his own meeting with the famous man and remembers it in detail. But the supremely important person in any one's life is himself — and a politician must never forget that. So it is polite and friendly and warmhearted for the politician to have a way to be able to remember about other people the sort of little things that they are likely to remember about him. It is also essential — in politics.»
I had Pe