“And you have no trouble returning to business afterward.”

“Absolutely not, and I haven’t heard anyone testify that I did. Even Sarie acknowledged that after these so-called episodes were over, I got back to business as usual. So what’s the harm? Forgive me for saying so, but I think they’re making a mountain out of a molehill. And if the vice president weren’t so eager to rest his butt in the Oval Office, he’d see how flimsy this case really is.”

Ben paused for a moment, pleased at how well the testimony was going. This was better than he would’ve thought possible. Even though he hadn’t covered every single point Swinburne raised, he’d covered enough of them. The president had argued in favor of his right to express himself freely in private, and who would deny a president that? Like a brilliant trial lawyer, he had framed the issue in a manner that made it impossible for anyone to rule against him.

And in Ben’s book, that meant it was time to move on. He had intentionally started with the “crazy” arguments. He thought the jury would be most interested in hearing about that, and he didn’t want to finish on that note, with the president having to defend himself. Better to get it out of the way and end with something more positive.

But before he could do that, there was one more matter that had to be addressed.

“Mr. President, we’ve just heard Mr. Zimmer testify that you have a son, heretofore unknown to the general public. Is that true?”

The president blinked rapidly, then looked around the room, making eye contact with many of the people there. “Yes, it’s true.”

Many significant looks passed through the room as President Kyler offered this confirmation, but nothing like the shock that had registered earlier. In only a few minutes this had become yesterday’s news.

“Please tell us what happened.”

“Of course. But I have a request first. I have no way of enforcing this. But I will ask that everyone in this room please maintain the confidentiality that goes with being in the cabinet or on the White House staff. This has become relevant to this trial, and while I regret that, I accept it. But there is no reason why this needs to be made public, especially if I remain in office once this trial is over. So I respectfully request, out of respect for my wife and children, that you keep this to yourself.”

“I’m sure everyone will honor your request,” Ben said, expressing a confidence he did not feel. “Please proceed.”

“My son’s name is Abe. That’s short for Abram, of course, a very popular name in the Middle East. I met his mother when I was very young and naive, just finishing up at the School of Government and Law at Yale. Tovah-that’s his mother’s name-was in some of my classes. She was a cousin of the royal family in Kuraq, which is the only reason she was there. Although the ayatollah in charge at the time was running the government, he had allowed the royal family to remain intact for symbolic purposes. Not unlike the royal family in England -they don’t actually have any power, but the government still keeps them around. Most women in Kuraq wouldn’t even be educated, much less at Harvard. But her family’s prestige gave her special privileges.”

“And I assume you came to know her there.”

“It took awhile. I was a bit shy around women back then-not a ladies’ man like you, Ben.”

Ben blinked.

“But she was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. The smoothest, creamiest complexion and elegant light brown skin. Lovely. I’d never seen anyone before who struck me as so gorgeous. So I spent about half the semester stuttering around her. But eventually I managed to ask her out.”

“And?”

“We hit it off almost immediately. We had a lot in common-our idealism, our desire to serve our people, our devotion to education and political theory. But what was most intriguing was how we were different. I loved words; she loved numbers. I loved poetry; she preferred nonfiction. I liked rock and roll; she preferred classical. We didn’t duplicate each other. We complemented each other.” He shrugged. “Is it any wonder I fell in love?”

“And were these feelings of yours reciprocated?”

“Absolutely. We loved each other with an intensity that few people before or since have ever experienced. And out of that love was born a child.”

“Abe Malik.”

“Yes. Malik isn’t his surname, but it is a family name. It’s Arabic for ‘strong.’”

“Why didn’t you marry?”

“I wanted to. She refused. Remember, she was from Kuraq. And although she was determined to bear the child, a marriage to a Westerner would be impossible, at least if she ever intended to go back. And she did. She had great plans. She wanted to make the royal family relevant again, to bring her country out of that stagnant theocracy. And she couldn’t do any of that with me.”

“Did you ever see the child?”

“No. She gave birth in Kuraq, in secret. I was not allowed to visit. I didn’t see him for almost twenty years.”

“What happened then?”

“She returned to America. Her plans for her country never materialized. It was not the royal family that wrested power away from the ayatollah. It was Colonel Zuko.”

“I see.”

“And as you might imagine, he was not as comfortable with the royal family’s presence as his predecessor had been. He didn’t want any potential threats to his supremacy around. Like the rest of her family, she fled. She returned to America -this time with her son.”

“Did she contact you?”

“She did, although it wasn’t easy. I was governor by then, and not the easiest person in the world to contact privately. But she was always a very smart woman. I met her in secret. She had never married, never had any other children. She was devoted to Abe and her cause, nothing else. She had, I think, hoped that we might be able to… to pick up where we had left off. But it was impossible. I was married to Sophie by then-very happily, I might add. And I was in the public eye. No journalist had managed to tumble to Abe’s existence yet. We decided it was best to keep it that way. And so we parted.” He slowly exhaled. “I didn’t see Abe again for several years. Not until she sent word that our son was planning to join the Red Cross.”

“And that concerned you?”

“It concerned both of us. You can see why he wanted a posting near Kuraq. That’s his heritage. But I knew Colonel Zuko was on the warpath. He had already begun the invasion of the Benzai Strip. I knew trouble was coming. I knew U.S. intervention was likely. And I didn’t want my son in the middle of it. It was dangerous for anyone-but imagine if Zuko discovered Abe was his archenemy’s son. Abe’s life would be in constant jeopardy.”

“I gather you were not able to talk him out of it?”

“No. He’s very stubborn.” The president’s lips turned up slightly at the corners. “He probably gets that from me.”

“Did you hear anything else from him thereafter?”

“Precious little. I had a few people watching out for him, but I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. The fewer people who knew the truth, the better. I didn’t know how the American people would respond to the revelation that I have a secret son, but the connection to Kuraq could make that very tricky. Very dangerous politically. I hadn’t heard much about him for some time-until I saw the passenger manifest on that downed helicopter. And found his name there. As the pilot.”

“So of course you prepared to bring in troops. To mount a rescue operation and secure the country.”

Kyler nodded. “I like to think that I would have done that in any case. But yes, once I knew my son was in that helicopter, there really was no choice. Not for me. No choice at all.”

“Just a few more questions, Mr. President. Do you regret your decisions regarding Kuraq?”

“Absolutely not. That man-Colonel Zuko-is dangerous. A serious threat to the nation, as today’s events have proved. If we let him go unchecked, it will establish a precedent that quite literally could rip this country apart at the seams.”