Even our little party should have been down on the lower level, to include all the office staff, especially Jimmie Washington. But it would not work, not without shutting Mr. Bonforte himself out of it. They were having their own party of course. I stood up. «Rog, I'll go down with you and say hello to Jimmie's harem.»

«Eh? You don't have to, you know.»

«It's the proper thing to do, isn't it? And it really isn't any trouble or risk.» I turned to Mr. Bonforte. «How about it, sir?»

«I would appreciate it very much.»

We went down the lift and through the silent, empty private quarters and on through my office and Penny's. Beyond her door was bedlam. A stereo receiver, moved in for the purpose, was blasting at full gain, the floor was littered, and everybody was drinking, or smoking, or both. Even Jimmie Washington was holding a drink while he listened to the returns. He was not drinking it; he neither drank nor smoked. No doubt someone had handed it to him and he had kept it. Jimmie had a fine sense of fitness.

I made the rounds, with Rog at my side, thanked Jimmie warmly and very sincerely, and apologized that I was feeling tired. «I'm going up and spread the bones, Jimmie. Make my excuses to people, will you?»

«Yes, sir. You've got to take care of yourself, Mr. Minister.»

I went back up while Rog went on out into the public tunnels.

Penny shushed me with a finger to her lips when I came into the upper living room. Bonforte seemed to have dropped off to sleep and the receiver was muted down. Dak still sat in front of it, filling in figures on the big sheet against Rog's return. Capek had not moved. He nodded and raised his glass to me.

I let Penny fix me a scotch and water, then stepped out into the bubble balcony. It was night both by clock and by fact and Earth was almost full, dazzling in a Tiffany spread of stars. I searched North America and tried to pick out the little dot I had left only weeks earlier, and tried to get my emotions straight.

After a while I came back in; night on Luna is rather overpowering. Rog returned a little later and sat back down at his work sheets without speaking. I noticed that Bonforte was awake again.

The critical returns were coming in now and everybody kept quiet, letting Rog with his pencil and Dak with his slide rule have peace to work. At long, long last Rog shoved his chair back. «That's it, Chief,» he said without looking up. «We're in. Majority not less than seven seats, probably nineteen, possibly over thirty.»

After a pause Bonforte said quietly, «You're sure?»

«Positive. Penny, try another channel and see what we get.»

I went over and sat by Bonforte; I could not talk. He reached out and patted my hand in a fatherly way and we both watched the receiver. The first station Penny got said: « — doubt about it, folks; eight of the robot brains say yes,Curiac says maybe. The Expansionist Party has won a decisive — » She switched to another.

« — confirms his temporary post for another five years. Mr. Quiroga cannot be reached for a statement but his general manager in New Chicago admits that the present trend cannot be over — »

Rog got up and went to the phone; Penny muted the news down until nothing could be heard. The announcer continued mouthing; he was simply saying in different words what we already knew.

Rog came back; Penny turned up the gain. The announcer went on for a moment, then stopped, read something that was handed to him, and turned back with a broad grin. «Friends and fellow citizens, I now bring you — for a statement — the Supreme Minister!»

The picture changed to my victory speech.

I sat there luxuriating in it, with my feelings as mixed up as possible but all good, painfully good. I had done a job on the speech and I knew it; I looked tired, sweaty, and calmly triumphant. It sounded ad-lib.

I had just reached: «Let us go forward together, with freedom for all — » when I heard a noise behind me.

«Mr. Bonforte!» I said. «Doc!Doc! Come quickly!»

Mr. Bonforte was pawing at me with his right hand and trying very urgently to tell me something. But it was no use; his poor mouth failed him and his mighty indomitable will could not make the weak flesh obey.

I took him in my arms — then he went into Cheyne-Stokes breathing and quickly into termination.

They took his body back down in the lift, Dak and Capek together; I was no use to them. Rog came up and patted me on the shoulder, then he went away. Penny had followed the others down. Presently I went again out onto the balcony. I needed «fresh air» even though it was the same machine-pumped air as the living room. But it felt fresher.

They had killed him. His enemies had killed him as certainly as if they had put a knife in his ribs. Despite all that we had done, the risks we had taken, in the end they had murdered him. «Murder most foul!»

I felt dead inside me, numb with the shock. I had seen «myself» die, I had again seen my father die. I knew then why they so rarely manage to save one of a pair of Siamese twins. I was empty.

I don't know how long I stayed out there. Eventually I heard Rog's voice behind me. «Chief?»

I turned. «Rog,» I said urgently, «don't call me that. Please!»

«Chief,» he persisted, «you know what you have to do now? Don't you?»

I felt dizzy and his face blurred. I did not know what he was talking about — I did not want to know what he was talking about.

«What do you mean?»

«Chief — one man dies — but the show goes on. You can't quit now.»

My head ached and my eyes would not focus. He seemed to pull toward me and away while his voice drove on. «...robbed him of his chance to finish his work. So you've got to do it for him. You've got to make him live again!»

I shook my head and made a great effort to pull myself together and reply. «Rog, you don't know what you are saying. It's preposterous — ridiculous! I'm no statesman. I'm just a bloody actor! I make faces and make people laugh. That's all I'm good for.»

To my own horror I heard myself say it in Bonforte's voice.

Rog looked at me. «Seems to me you've done all right so far.»

I tried to change my voice, tried to gain control of the situation. «Rog, you're upset. When you've calmed down you will see how ridiculous this is. You're right; the show goes on. But not that way. The proper thing to do — the only thing to do — is for you yourself to move on up. The election is won; you've got your majority — now you take office and carry out the program.»

He looked at me and shook his head sadly. «I would if I could. I admit it. But I can't. Chief, you remember those confounded executive committee meetings? You kept them in line. The whole coalition has been kept glued together by the personal force and leadership of one man. If you don't follow through now, all that he lived for — and died for — will fall apart.»

I had no answering argument; he might be right — I had seen the wheels within wheels of politics in the past month and a half. «Rog, even if what you say is true, the solution you offer is impossible. We've barely managed to keep up this pretense by letting me be seen only under carefully stage-managed conditions — and we've just missed being caught out as it is. But to make it work week after week, month after month, even year after year, if I understand you — no, it couldn't be done. It is impossible. I can't do it!»

«You can!» He leaned toward me and said forcefully, «We've all talked it over and we know the hazards as well as you do. But you'll have a chance to grow into it. Two weeks in space to start with — hell, a month if you want it! You'll study all the time — his journals, his boyhood diaries, his scrapbooks, you'll soak yourself in them. And we'll all help you.»

I did not answer. He went on, «Look, Chief, you've learned that a political personality is not one man; it's a team — it's a team bound together by common purposes and common beliefs. We've lost our team captain and we've got to have another one. But the team is still there.»