Unexpectedly, Tomlinson gained more from Hackman’s quitting the race than Sebastian did. He came within two percentage points of tying Sebastian in the South Carolina primary and actually won the Nevada caucus by a hair-thin margin.
Lovett was jubilant after the Nevada win. At the analysis session the day after, in Tomlinson’s campaign headquarters, he tapped a sheaf of printouts and concluded, “Frank’s message is getting through to the voters. He’s offering them a new vision, a new hope.”
O’Donnell, though, said dourly, “Nevada. Six electoral votes.”
“It’s a trend,” Lovett insisted. But then he added, “Maybe.”
“We’ll see in a week,” O’Donnell said.
Super Tuesday. Twelve state primaries or caucuses on the same early March date, including Massachusetts, Texas, Georgia, and Virginia.
Jake had never been so busy in his life. He jetted from one rally or speech to another. He coached Senator Tomlinson on the finer points of the space plan, the budgets for research organizations such as the National Institutes of Health, and the ever-present controversies over stem-cell studies, abortion, and women’s health. Meanwhile Tami coached Jake himself when he did TV interviews about the space plan.
How much will it cost?
Billions, but the money is being raised from the private investment market. Not a penny of taxpayers’ dollars is going into the space plan.
But isn’t the federal government backing those investments?
They’re long-term, low-interest loans. Any American can invest in our future in space. You can own part of our expansion into the space frontier!
Isn’t space flight dangerous?
Actually, it’s safer than commercial air travel. And far safer than driving a car.
How are these private firms going to make profits in space?
By building solar power satellites that can deliver gigawatts of electrical power to the ground cleanly, without pollution. Their power source is the Sun, ninety-three million miles away! One such space power satellite could replace all the fossil-fueled and nuclear power plants in a whole state the size of Florida.
Anything else?
There sure is. Factories in orbit and on the Moon’s surface will be able to produce new metal alloys that are lighter yet stronger than anything made on Earth. New chemical products, including new medicines, are possible. We’ll get the raw materials from the Moon’s surface and, sooner or later, from mining asteroids.
What about tourist facilities in space?
Would you like to have a zero-gravity honeymoon in orbit? If you like waterbeds, you’re going to love zero-gee. And how about planting your bootprints on the Moon, where no one has ever stepped before? On the Moon you can fly on your own muscle power, like a bird. Or visit Apollo 11’s Tranquility Base. Or …
By the time Super Tuesday finally arrived, Jake was physically and emotionally exhausted. As he lay sprawled across the bed in their Connecticut Avenue condo, he asked Tami:
“How does Frank do it? He’s been on the go nonstop since before Christmas. What’s holding him up?”
Tami flopped onto the bed beside him, just as frazzled as Jake was.
“Frank has a powerful force driving him,” she said. “The image of himself in the Oval Office.”
Jake nodded. “Yeah. And his father pushing him. That’s a powerful driver, all right.”
“All-consuming,” said Tami.
Jake couldn’t help wondering about Tami’s all-consuming drive to become a news media star. Was it going to consume their marriage?
When all the votes were counted, Super Tuesday turned out to be nearly a tie. Tomlinson won in Texas and Massachusetts—a feat that dumbfounded most of the news media’s analysts—and came to within a hair of taking Georgia and Virginia. Sebastian won all the other states, but none by a margin of more than a few percentage points.
“It’s all going to come down to New York, New Jersey, and, finally, California,” said Pat Lovett.
He, Jake, O’Donnell, and Earl Reynolds were having lunch with the senator in Tomlinson’s home, the afternoon after Super Tuesday, seated at one end of the long table in the formal dining room, dominated by the imperious portrait of Senator Tomlinson’s late father.
With a mischievous grin, the senator said, “Once this campaign is over, win or lose, I’m taking Amy on our sailboat out across the Caribbean. And we won’t bring a telephone with us!”
Lovett grinned back at him. “By that time, Frank, you’ll have a team of Secret Service people guarding you. You’ll be the president-elect.”
Tomlinson muttered, “No plan is perfect.” And he turned his attention back to the hamburger he’d been munching on.
Jake noted, “The pundits claim that the space plan’s attracting the younger voters.”
“And some older ones, too,” Lovett added. “People who’re worried about the economy, about their jobs.”
“Do you think we can take New York?” Tomlinson asked eagerly. Before anyone could reply he added, “And New Jersey?”
“Stranger things have happened,” said Lovett.
O’Donnell cautioned, “Those are going to be two tough hurdles. Lots of union votes there. Lots of entrenched power.”
“What about California?” Jake asked.
“From what I’ve seen,” Lovett replied, “we’ve got a good chance at California. Lots of aerospace industry votes.”
With a pleased grin, Tomlinson said, “We’ve really got a chance to beat Sebastian.”
Lovett nodded. “And whoever the Democrats finally decide to nominate.”
Jake hoped they were right. But he heard himself ask them, “Do you think this fight between you and Sebastian is hurting the party?”
O’Donnell glared at him.
“I’ve heard some analysts saying that we’re splitting the party, which could be good for the Democrats,” Jake explained. It sounded lame, even to his own ears.
“That’s bullshit,” O’Donnell growled.
Lovett shook his head. “There’s a certain amount of truth to it, Kev. If the battle between Frank and Sebastian gets especially bitter, if the loser’s people stay home in November instead of voting for the winner—that could hand the election to the Democrats.”
“So what are we supposed to do,” O’Donnell wondered, “play nice-nice with Sebastian? We’re in this to win, dammit!”
Tomlinson dabbed at his lips with his napkin, then carefully put it back onto the table. “Vince Lombardi said, ‘Winning isn’t the most important thing. It’s the only thing!’”
Jake had heard a different version of that line, but neither he nor the others around the table contradicted the senator.
* * *
The month of March turned into a slugging match. After Super Tuesday, Sebastian and Tomlinson traded primary victories almost evenly. Almost.
Sebastian took Kansas, Kentucky, and Louisiana but Tomlinson pulled an upset victory in Michigan, by just two percentage points. Sebastian won in Florida and Illinois but Tomlinson managed to squeak through to a narrow victory in the pivotal Ohio primary.
As April approached, with voters due at the polls in New York, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Wisconsin, and elsewhere, the hectic pace of the contest grew even hotter.
“We can do it!” Lovett kept encouraging everyone he talked to. “We can overtake Sebastian and win the nomination!”
“Yeah,” O’Donnell warned. “And maybe split the party so badly that the Democrats take the White House in November.”
Jake’s world became a blur of meetings, interviews, preparing position statements for Senator Tomlinson, talking, handshaking, wheedling, urging. He hardly saw Tami during those frenzied weeks, barely had time to wonder what would happen to them when the campaign was finally over.