Windmills of the Gods

So the Remanian government is going to accept me, Mary thought. Perhaps I’m better qualified than I realized.

“There will be an open hearing of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.. That’s scheduled for nine o’clock on Wednesday morning. They vote, and when they. turn in their report, the full Senate votes.”

Mary said slowly, “Nominations have been voted down in the past, haven’t they?”

“Yes. But you’ll have the full backing of the White House. The President is eager to push, your appointment through as quickly as possible. Incidentally, he would like to meet with you this afternoon. Would four o’clock be convenient?”

Mary swallowed. “Yes, I-Of course.”

“Excellent. A car will be downstairs for you at three thirty.”

PAUL Ellison rose as Mary was ushered into the Oval Office. He walked over to shake her hand, grinned, and said, “Gotcha!”

Mary laughed. “I’m glad you did, Mr. President. This is a great honor for me.”

“Sit down, Mrs. Ashley. May I call you Mary?”

“Please.” They sat down on the couch.

President Ellison said, “You’re going to be my doppelgnger. Do you know what that is?”

“It’s a kind of identical spirit of a living person.”

“Right. And That’s us. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I read your latest article, Mary. It was as though I were reading something I had written myself. There are a lot of people who don’t believe our people-to-people plan can work, but you and I are going to fool them.”

Our people-to-people plan. He’s a charmer, Mary thought. Aloud she said, “I want to do everything I can to help, Mr. President.”

“I’m counting on you. Very heavily. Remania is the testing ground. Since Groza was assassinated, your job is going to be more difficult. If we can pull it off there, we can make it work in the other communist countries.”

They spent the next thirty minutes discussing some of the problems that lay ahead, and then Paul Ellison said, “Stan Rogers will keep in close touch with you. He’s become a big fan of yours.” He held out his hand. “Good luck, doppelgnger.”

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE SENATE Foreign Relations Committee hearing Mary was in panic. Oh, Edward, how I wish you were here with me. What am I going to tell them, darling? That in junction City I was homecoming queen?

Then the irony struck her. If Edward were alive, she would not be here. She’d be safe and warm at home with her husband and children, where she belonged.

She lay awake all night.

THE hearing was held in the Foreign Relations Committee room, with the full seventeen committee members seated on a dais. Along the left side of the room was the press table, filled with reporters, and in the center were seats for two hundred spectators. The room was filled to overflowing. Pete Connors sat in the back row. There was a sudden hush as Mary entered with Beth and Tim.

Mary was wearing a dark tailored suit and a white blouse. The children were in their Sunday best.

Ben Cohn, the political reporter for the Washington Post, watched as they came in. Goodness, he thought; they look like a Norman Rockwell painting.

An attendant seated the children in a front row, and Mary was escorted to the witness chair, facing the committee.

The questions started innocently enough. Senator Charles Campbell, the chairman of the committee and a supporter of President Ellison, spoke first. “According to the biography we’ve been furnished, Mrs. Ashley, you’re a native of Kansas, and for the last several years you’ve taught political science at Kansas State University. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.” Mary was so nervous she could barely speak.

“Your grandparents were Remanian?”

“My grandfather. Yes, sir.”

“An article you wrote was published in Foreign Affairs magazine and came to the attention of the President?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“Mrs. Ashley, would you kindly tell this committee what the basic premise of your article is?”

“Several regional economic pacts currently exist in the world, and because they are mutually exclusive they serve to divide the world into antagonistic and competitive blocs.” She felt as though she were conducting a seminar, and her nervousness began to disappear.

“My premise is simple,” she continued. “I would like to see our country spearhead a movement to form a common market that includes allies and adversaries alike. Today, as-an example, we’re paying billions of dollars to store surplus grain,,while people in dozens of countries are starving. The one-world common market could cure inequities of distribution, at fair market prices. I would like to try to make that happen.”

Senator Harold Turkel, a senior member of the committee and a leader of the opposition party, spoke up. “I’d like to ask the nominee a few questions. Is this your first time in Washington, Mrs. Ashley?”

“Yes, sir. I think It’s one of the most-“

“Have you ever been to New York?”

“No, sir.”

“California?”

“No, sir.”

“Have you, in fact, ever been outside the state of Kansas?”

“Yes. I gave a lecture at the University of Chicago and a series of talks in Denver and Atlanta.”

“That must have been very exciting for you, Mrs. Ashley,” Turkel said dryly. “You expect to represent the United States in an iron curtain country, and you’re telling us that your entire knowledge of the world comes from living in junction City, Kansas.”