"You need a puff or two from your inhaler?"

"Actually, that stuff makes me feel a little speedy. I'd prefer to avoid it if I can. There's a couple of million in potential donations to the cause sitting out there. That'll make me speedy enough as it is."

Gabe considered his findings and the situation.

"In that case, knock 'em dead, pal."

CHAPTER 23

It is time, my friends. It is time we joined together with a vision for this country and its people. It is time the children of our poor and disenfranchised stop seeking out drugs as the only way to cope with the perceived hopelessness of their situations. It is time they seek out their teachers and advisors, and hopefully, even their parents. It is time they learn to use the computers that will be on every desk, and work through their fears and concerns and curiosity and dreams in classes that are of a reasonable size.

"It is time there were enough hospital and halfway-house beds for our mentally ill and addicted, and there were government-mandated insurance programs to pay for their treatment.

"It is time there were jobs for everyone and anyone who wants one, as well as incentives to keep individuals off of public assistance.

"Yes, my friends, it is time for the people of this country to come together with a vision. . . ."

Gabe had never had much interest in politics or much faith in politicians and their promises. Now, though, he stood off to one side of the third-floor hall in the beautifully renovated Baltimore Convention Center marveling at the skill, intellect, and charisma of the man who had once been his drinking and studying buddy—at the time, little more than just one of the guys at the Academy. In the limousine Gabe had sat quietly as the president and his bright young speechwriter reviewed the lines of this speech quickly and analytically. Now he listened to the words again—notes he had seen written on a page, now transformed by a virtuoso into a concerto—mesmerizing and very special.

"I believe him."

Alison Cromartie had materialized at Gabe's elbow.

"I've seen video of Kennedy speaking," Gabe whispered, still focused on the podium but well aware of the scent of her. "I'll bet the feelings in the audience back then were the same as here."

"We're all set up the way you wanted," she whispered.

"Good. Thanks. It doesn't look like we're going to be needed."

"Amen to that."

He and Alison had exchanged a few words during the fifteen minutes before the president headed up to the podium but no sentiments. Gabe still couldn't, or wouldn't, get past the lies she had told him on the evening they first met, her anxiousness to learn about the president's health, and especially the fact that she was on duty in the office around the time the tubes of the president's blood disappeared.