Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [54]
William K. Hartmann, Moons and Planets:
An Introduction to Planetary Science
The young man walked with a decided limp. He almost tripped on the thick rug in the big office, and Carrie, Senator Jellison's receptionist, took his arm for a moment. He shrugged her angrily away. "Mr. Colin Saunders," Carrie announced.
"What can I do for you?" Senator Jellison asked.
"I need a new leg."
Jellison tried not to look surprised, but he wasn't successful. And I thought I'd heard 'em all, he thought. "Have a seat." Jellison glanced at his watch. "It's after six … "
"I know I'm taking up your valuable time." Saunders's voice was belligerent.
"Wasn't thinking about my time," Arthur Jellison said. "Being it's after six, we can have a drink. Want something?"
"Well … yes, please, sir."
"Fine." Jellison got up from the ornate wooden desk and went to the ancient cabinet on the wall. The building wasn't that old, but the cabinets looked as if they might have been used by Daniel Webster, who was reputed not to wait until six. Senator Jellison opened the cabinets to reveal a huge stock of liquor. Nearly every bottle had the same label.
"Old Fedcal?" the visitor asked.
"Sure. Don't let the labels fool you. That's Jack Daniels bourbon in the black bottle. The rest of 'em are top brands, too. Why pay brand prices when I can get it from home a lot cheaper? What'll you have?"
"Scotch."
"Right here. I'm a bourbon man myself." Jellison poured two drinks. "Now tell me what this is all about."
"It's the VA." Saunders poured out his story. This would be his fourth artificial leg. The first one the Veterans Administration gave him had fit fine, but it had been stolen, and the next three didn't fit at all, they hurt, and now the VA wasn't going to do anything about it.
"Sounds like a problem for your representative," Jellison said gently.
"I tried to see the Honorable Jim Braden." The young man's voice was bitter again. "I couldn't even get an appointment."
"Yeah," Jellison said. "Excuse me a second." He took a small bound book from a desk drawer. "HAVE AL LOOK INTO PRIMARY OPPOSITION FOR THAT SON OF A BITCH," he wrote. "THE PARTY DON'T NEED CREEPS LIKE THAT, AND THIS AIN'T THE FIRST TIME." Then he drew a memo pad toward him. "Better give me the names of the doctors you've been dealing with," he said.
"You mean you'll really help?"
"I'll have somebody look into it." Jellison wrote the details on the memo pad. "Where'd you get hit?"
"Khe Sanh."
"Medals? It helps to know."
The visitor shrugged. "Silver Star."
"And Purple Heart, of course," Jellison said. "Want another drink?"
The visitor smiled and shook his head. He looked around the big room. The walls were decorated with photographs: Senator Jellison at an Indian reservation; Jellison at the controls of an Air Force bomber; Jellison's children, and staff, and friends. "I don't want to take any more of your time. You must be busy." He got up carefully.
Jellison saw the visitor to the door. Carrie had to unlock it. "That's the last," she said.
"Fine. I'll stick around awhile. Send Alvin in, and you can go home—oh, one thing. See if you can get me Dr. Sharps at JPL first, will you? And call Maureen to tell her I'll be a little late."
"Sure." Carrie grinned to herself as the Senator went back into his office. Before she finally left he'd have nine other last-minute items. She was used to it. She looked into the staff rooms on the other side of her office. Everyone was gone except Alvin Hardy. He always waited, just in case. "He wants you," Carrie said.
"So what else is new?" Al went into the big office. Jellison was sprawled out