Of Kings and Demons by George Han Page B

about having someone special in that office. That someone will be you,
Walter.”
    Walter Johnson turned to the
photographs again. “Maybe you should run instead? I can be your campaign
manager.”
    “Only that I would lose.” Robin
protested.
    “Ease up!” Walter retorted.
    “Stop looking at your father.
He is dead. He had already told you what to do.”
    “Did he?”
    “He asked you to serve this
country.”
    Walter was silent.
     
    *
    Republican Senator Victor
Palmer, senior senator of Florida, had every reason to feel good. He had just
won reelection to the Senate with an increased majority and then quickly added another feather to his cap with his election to the chair of
the Senate Subcommittee on Appropriations.
    With the chairmanship, he was
effectively one of the most powerful men on the Hill and had considerable
leverage over spending allocations vis-à-vis relationships with foreign
countries.
    Victor earned that position of
power without really having to fight for it. In fact, he was embarrassed that
it landed on his table by the merit of an unexpected death. The former chairman,
Republican Robby Pegasus, had been found dead from a massive heart attack,
sprawled on his work desk, by his secretary.
    With the Republicans holding a
wafer-thin majority of two, a senior senator, who did not have too
‘controversial’ of a voting record, was preferred. Victor, who had been strong
on the gun-control issue, staunchly antiabortion and a budget hawk, was seen as
one of the candidates. He had co-sponsored four bills with Democrats and was seen
as an acceptable candidate to both parties. His seniority, four terms in the Senate,
sealed his appointment.
    It seemed as if rays of nourishing
sunlight fell on every step that he took in his life and career. In no time,
Victor had turned into a focal point for the key relationships on Capitol Hill.
He coordinated the policy-making meetings and decision-making processes on
billions of dollars of spending. In the age of instability in the Middle East
and central Asia, escalating threats from Islamic terrorists and rogue states,
Victor Palmer was a sought-after man.
    His schedule had been packed
with meetings, from lobbyists from defence industry to every important ally of
the United States. Fellow senators, junior congressmen, and key members of the
Democratic and Republican parties wanted a piece of him.
    His wife, Dorothy, had
complained that she had lost her husband to another competitor. It was a joke
made partly in praise but mostly in sarcasm.
    Victor had every reason to
believe his career can only get better, and bigger; there sun is beaming but
there is threat of storm though. On his horizon of clear blue skies, there was
one growing grey cloud.
    Ironically, the problem was
nonpolitical and very personal. It had to do with an investment decision Victor
made five years earlier. He had taken a stake in an oil company, Maxi Oil, with
a few of his long-time associates. The founder of the company, Chris Bates, his
classmate at Princeton, had thought he could do much more with his savings, and
with oil prices buoyant again, at $90 per barrel, the industry seemed like a good
investment.
    Chris Bates lived up to his
word and Maxi Oil was listed inside three years and Victor’s investments almost
doubled. The winds were taken out its sail in an unexpected event that happened
last year. Off the coast of Mexico, Maxi Oil moved a drilling platform to a
location that was miles away from its original spot. It would have caused
little fuss to relocate it, but it was set up in a protected region. The
relocation was messy and various environmental groups protested the mistake. An
environment-minded White House was forced to take a position and the federal
agency took Maxi Oil to court.
    It was a matter that could be
easily settled, Chris Bates assured Victor. An out of court settlement was
proposed by Maxi Oil—a ten-million grant to the environmental research institutes.
    But the