Executive orders - Tom Clancy [296]
Yeah, Martin said, reading the President's face. Big deal, isn't it?
Wait a minute. Jack rose and walked out the door to the secretaries' room. Which one of you smokes? he asked there.
It's me, said Ellen Sumter. She was of Jack's age, and probably trying to quit, as all smokers of that age at least claimed. Without another question, she handed her President a Virginia Slim-the same as the crewwoman on his airplane, Jack realized-and a butane lighter. The President nodded his thanks and walked back into his office, lighting it. Before he could close the door, Mrs. Sumter raced to follow him with an ashtray taken from her desk drawer.
Sitting down, Ryan took a long drag, eyes on the carpet, which was of the Great Seal of the President of the United States, covered though it was with furniture.
How the hell, Jack asked quietly, did anybody ever decide that one man could have this much power? I mean, what I'm doing here-
Yes, sir. Kind of like being James Madison, isn't it? You pick the people who decide what the Constitution really means. They're all in their late forties or fifties, and so they'll be there for a while, Martin told him. Cheer up. At least it's not a game for you. At least you're doing it the right way. You're not picking women because they're women, or blacks because they're black. I gave you a good mix, color, bathrooms, and everything, but all the names have been redacted out- and you won't be able to tell who's who unless you follow cases, which you probably don't. I give you my word, sir, they're all good ones. I spent a lot of time assembling the list for you. Your guidelines helped, and they were good guidelines. For what it's worth, they're all people who think the way you do. People who like power scare me, the attorney said. Good ones reflect a lot on what they're doing before they do it. Picking real judges who've made some hard calls-well, read their decisions. You'll see how hard they worked at what they did.
Another puff. He tapped the folders. I don't know the law well enough to understand all the points in there. I don't know crap about the law, except you're not supposed to break it.
Martin grinned at that one: Not a bad place to start when you think about it. He didn't have to go any further. Not every occupant of this office had thought of things quite that way. Both men knew it, but it wasn't the sort of thing one said to the sitting President.
I know the things I don't like. I know the things I'd like to see changed, but, God damn it-Ryan looked up, eyes wide now-do I have the right to make that sort of call?
Yes, Mr. President, you do, because the Senate has to look over your shoulder, remember? Maybe they'll disagree on one or two. All these judges have been checked out by the FBI. They're all honest. They're all smart. None of them ever wanted or expected to make it to the Supreme Court except through a certiori grant. If you can't come up with nine you like, we'll search some more-better then if you have somebody else do it. The head of the Civil Rights Division is also a pretty good man-he's off to my left some, but he's another thinker.
Civil rights, Jack thought. Did he have to make government policy on that, too? How was he supposed to know what might be the right way to treat people who might or might not be a little different from everybody else? Sooner or later you lost the ability to be objective,