"Kim Stanley Robinson - Sixty Days and Counting" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

phone rang again, and this time it was Phil Chase himself.
“Charlie, how are you?”
“I’m fine, Phil, how are you? Are you getting any rest?”
“Oh yeah sure. I’m still on my postcampaign vacation, so things are very relaxed.”
“Uh huh, sure. That’s not what Roy tells me. How’s the transition coming?”
“It’s coming fine, as I understand it. I thought that was your bailiwick.”
Charlie laughed with a sinking feeling. Already he felt the change in Phil’s status
begin to weigh on him, making the conversation seem more and more surreal. He
had worked for Phil for a long time, but always while Phil had been a senator;
Charlie had long since gotten used to the considerable and yet highly circumscribed
power that Phil as senator had wielded. It had become normalized, indeed had
become kind of a running joke between them, in that Charlie often had reminded Phil
just how completely circumscribed his power was.
Now that just wasn’t going to work. The president of the United States might be
many things, but unpowerful was not among them. Many of the administrations
preceding Phil’s had worked very hard to expand the powers of the executive
branch beyond what the constitutional framers had intended—which campaigns
made a mockery of the “strict constitutionalist” talk put out by these same people
when discussing what principles the Supreme Court’s justices should hold, and
showed they preferred a secretive executive dictatorship to democracy, especially if
the president were a puppet installed by the interested parties. But never mind; the
result of their labors was an apparatus of power that if properly understood and
used could in many ways rule the world. Bizarre but true: the president of the United
States could rule the world, both by direct fiat and by setting the agenda that
everyone else had to follow or be damned. World ruler. Not really, of course, but it
was about as close as anyone could get. And how exactly did you joke about that?
“Your clothes are still visible?” Charlie inquired.
“To me they are. But look,” passing on a full riposte, as being understood in
advance—although Phil could no doubt see the comedy of omnipotence as well as
the comedy of constraint—“I wanted to talk to you about your position in the
administration. Roy says you’re being a little balky, but obviously we need you.”
“I’m here already. I can talk twelve hours a day, if you like.”
“Well, but a lot of these jobs require more than that. They’re in-person jobs, as you
know.”
“What do you mean, like which ones?”
“Well, like for instance head of the EPA.”
“WHAT?” Charlie shouted. He reeled, literally, in that he staggered slightly to the
side, then listed back to catch himself. “Don’t you be scaring me, Phil! I hope
you’re not thinking of making appointments as stupid as that! Jesus, you know
perfectly well I’m not qualified for that job! You need a first-rate scientist for that
one, a major researcher with some policy and administrative experience, we’ve
talked about this already! Every agency needs to feel appreciated and supported to
keep esprit de corps and function at the highest levels, you know that! Isn’t Roy
reminding you? You aren’t making a bunch of stupid political appointments, are
you?”
Phil was cracking up. “See? That’s why we need you down here!”
Charlie sucked down some air. “Oh. Ha ha. Very funny. Don’t be scaring me like
that, Phil.”
“I was serious, Charlie. You’d be fine heading the EPA. We need someone there
with a global vision of the world’s environmental problems. And we’ll find someone