jg.thepelicanbrief-第1部分

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　　HE　SEEMED　INCAPABLE　of　creating　such　chaos；　but　much　of　what　he　saw　below　could　be　blamed　on　him。　And　that　was　fine。　He　was　ninety…one；　paralyzed；　strapped　in　a　wheelchair　and　hooked　to　oxygen。　His　second　stroke　seven　years　ago　had　almost　finished　him　off；　but　Abraham　Rosenberg　was　still　alive　and　even　with　tubes　in　his　nose　his　legal　stick　was　bigger　than　the　other　eight。　He　was　the　only　legend　remaining　on　the　Court；　and　the　fact　that　he　was　still　breathing　irritated　most　of　the　mob　below。　
　　
　　He　sat　in　a　small　wheelchair　in　an　office　on　the　main　floor　of　the　Supreme　Court　Building。　His　feet　touched　the　edge　of　the　window；　and　he　strained　forward　as　the　noise　increased。　He　hated　cops；　but　the　sight　of　them　standing　in　thick；　neat　lines　was　somewhat　forting。　They　stood　straight　and　held　ground　as　the　mob　of　at　least　fifty　thousand　screamed　for　blood。
　　
　　〃Biggest　crowd　ever！〃　Rosenberg　yelled　at　the　window。　He　was　almost　deaf。　Jason　Kline；　his　senior　law　clerk；　stood　behind　him。　It　was　the　first　Monday　in　October；　the　opening　day　of　the　new　term；　and　this　had　bee　a　traditional　celebration　of　the　First　Amendment。　A　glorious　celebration。　Rosenberg　was　thrilled。　To　him；　freedom　of　speech　meant　freedom　to　riot。
　　
　　〃Are　the　Indians　out　there？〃　he　asked　loudly。　
　　
　　Jason　Kline　leaned　closer　to　his　right　ear。　〃Yes！〃
　　
　　〃With　war　paint？〃
　　
　　〃Yes！　In　full　battle　dress。〃
　　
　　〃Are　they　dancing？〃
　　
　　〃Yes！〃　
　　
　　The　Indians；　the　blacks；　whites；　browns；　women；　gays；　tree　lovers；　Christians；　abortion　activists；　Aryans；　Nazis；　atheists；　hunters；　animal　lovers；　white　supremacists；　black　supremacists；　tax　protestors；　loggers；　farmers　…　it　was　a　massive　sea　of　protest。　And　the　riot　police　gripped　their　black　sticks。
　　
　　〃The　Indians　should　love　me！〃
　　
　　〃I'm　sure　they　do。〃　Kline　nodded　and　smiled　at　the　frail　little　man　with　clenched　fists。　His　ideology　was　simple；　government　over　business；　the　individual　over　government；　the　environment　over　everything。　And　the　Indians；　give　them　whatever　they　want。　
　　
　　The　heckling；　praying；　singing；　chanting；　and　screaming　grew　louder；　and　the　riot　police　inched　closer　together。　The　crowd　was　larger　and　rowdier　than　in　recent　years。　Things　were　more　tense。　Violence　had　bee　mon。　Abortion　clinics　had　been　bombed。　Doctors　had　been　attacked　and　beaten。　One　was　killed　in　Pensacola；　gagged　and　bound　into　the　fetal　position　and　burned　with　acid。　Street　fights　were　weekly　events。　Churches　and　priests　had　been　abused　by　militant　gays。　White　supremacists　operated　from　a　dozen　known；　shadowy；　paramilitary　organizations；　and　had　bee　bolder　in　their　attacks　on　blacks；　Hispanics；　and　Asians。　Hatred　was　now　America's　favorite　pastime。　
　　
　　And　the　Court；　of　course；　was　an　easy　target。　Threats；　serious　ones；　against　the　justices　had　increased　tenfold　since　1990。　The　Supreme　Court　police　had　tripled　in　size。　At　least　two　FBI　agents　were　assigned　to　guard　each　justice；　and　another　fifty　were　kept　busy　investigating　threats。
　　
　　〃They　hate　me；　don't　they？〃　he　said　loudly；　staring　out　the　window。
　　
　　〃Yes；　some　of　them　do；〃　Kline　answered　with　amusement。　
　　
　　Rosenberg　liked　to　hear　that。　He　smiled　and　inhaled　deeply。　Eighty　percent　of　the　death　threats　were　aimed　at　him。
　　
　　〃See　any　of　those　signs？〃　he　asked。　He　was　nearly　blind。
　　
　　〃Quite　a　few。〃
　　
　　〃What　do　they　say？〃
　　
　　〃The　usual。　Death　to　Rosenberg。　Retire　Rosenberg。　Cut　Off　the　Oxygen。〃
　　
　　〃They've　been　waving　those　same　damned　signs　for　years。　Why　don't　they　get　some　new　ones？〃　
　　
　　The　clerk　did　not　answer。　Abe　should've　retired　years　ago；　but　they　would　carry　him　out　one　day　on　a　stretcher。　His　three　law　clerks　did　most　of　the　research；　but　Rosenberg　insisted　on　writing　his　own　opinions。　He　did　so　with　a　heavy　felt…tip　marker　and　his　words　were　scrawled　across　a　white　legal　pad；　much　like　a　first…grader　learning　to　write。　Slow　work；　but　with　a　lifetime　appointment；　who　cared　about　time？　The　clerks　proofed　his　opinions；　and　rarely　found　mistakes。　
　　
　　Rosenberg　chuckled。　〃We　oughta　feed　Runyan　to　the　Indians。〃　The　Chief　Justice　was　John　Runyan；　a　tough　conservative　appointed　by　a　Republican　and　hated　by　the　Indians　and　most　other　minorities。　Seven　of　the　nine　had　been　appointed　by　Republican　Presidents。　For　fifteen　years　Rosenberg　had　been　waiting　for　a　Democrat　in　the　White　House。　He　wanted　to　quit；　needed　to　quit；　but　he　could　not　stomach　the　idea　of　a　right…wing　Runyan　type　taking　his　beloved　seat。　
　　
　　He　could　wait。　He　could　sit　here　in　his　wheelchair　and　breathe　oxygen　and　protect　the　Indians；　the　blacks；　the　women；　the　poor；　the　handicapped；　and　the　environment　until　he　was　a　hundred　and　five。　And　not　a　single　person　in　the　world　could　do　a　damned　thing　about　it；　unless　they　killed　him。　And　that　wouldn't　be　such　a　bad　idea　either。　
　　
　　The　great　man's　head　nodded；　then　wobbled　and　rested　on　his　shoulder。　He　was　asleep　again。　Kline　quietly　stepped　away；　and　returned　to　his　research　in　the　library。　He　would　return　in　half　an　hour　to　check　the　oxygen　and　give　Abe　his　pills。　
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　THE　OFFICE　of　the　Chief　Justice　is　on　the　main　floor；　and　is　larger　and　more　ornate　than　the　other　eight。　The　outer　office　is　used　for　small　receptions　and　formal　gatherings；　and　the　inner　office　is　where　the　Chief　works。　
　　
　　The　door　to　the　inner　office　was　closed；　and　the　room　was　filled　with　the　Chief；　his　three　law　clerks；　the　captain　of　the　Supreme　Court　police；　three　FBI　agents；　and　K。　O。　Lewis；　deputy　director；　FBI。　The　mood　was　serious；　and　a　serious　effort　was　under　way　to　ignore　the　noise　from　the　streets　below。　It　was　difficult。　The　Chief　and　Lewis　discussed　the　latest　series　of　death　threats；　and　everyone　else　just　listened。　The　clerks　took　notes。　
　　
　　In　the　past　sixty　days；　the　Bureau　had　logged　over　two　hundred　threats；　a　new　record。　There　was　the　usual　assortment　of　〃Bomb　the　Court！〃　threats；　but　many　came　with　specificslike　names；　cases；　and　issues。　
　　
　　Runyan　made　no　effort　to　hide　his　anxiety。　Working　from　a　confidential　FBI　summary；　he　read　the　names　of　individuals　and　groups　suspected　of　threats。　The　Klan；　the　Aryans；　the　Nazis；　the　Palestinians；　the　black　separatists；　the　pro…lifers；　the　homophobics。　Even　the　IRA。　Everyone；　it　seemed；　but　the　Rotarians　and　the　Boy　Scouts。　A　Middle　East　group　backed　by　the　Iranians　had　threatened　blood　on　American　soil　in　retaliation　for　the　deaths　of　two　justice　ministers　in　Tehran。　There　was　absolutely　no　evidence　the　murders　were　linked　to　the　U。S。　A　new　domestic　terrorist　unit　of　recent　fame　known　as　the　Underground　Army　had　killed　a　federal　trial　judge　in　Texas　with　a　car　bomb。　No　arrests　had　been　made；　but　the　UA　claimed　responsibility。　It　was　also　the　prime　suspect　in　a　dozen　bombings　of　ACLU　offices；　but　its　work　was　very　clean。
　　
　　〃What　about　these　Puerto　Rican　terrorists？〃　Runyan　asked　without　looking　up。
　　
　　〃Lightweights。　We're　not　worried；〃　K。　O。　Lewis　answered　casually。　〃They've　been　threatening　for　twenty　years。〃
　　
　　〃Well；　maybe　it's　time　they　did　something。　The　climate　is　right；　don't　you　think？〃
　　
　　〃Forget　the　Puerto　Ricans；　Chief。〃　Runyan　liked　to　be　called　Chief。　Not　Chief　Justice；　nor　Mr。　Chief　Justice。　Just　Chief。　〃They're　just　threatening　because　everyone　else　is。〃
　　
　　〃Very　funny；〃　the　Chief　said　without　smiling。　〃Very　funny。　I'd　hate　for　some　group　to　be　left　out。〃　Runyan　threw　the　summary　on　his　desk　and　rubbed　his　temples。　〃Let's　talk　about　security。〃　He　closed　his　eyes。　
　　
　　K。　O。　Lewis　laid　his　copy　of　the　summary　on　the　Chief's　desk。
　　
　　〃Well；　the　Director　thinks　we　should　place　four　agents　with　each　Justice；　at　least　for　the　next　ninety　days。　We'll　use　limousines　with　escorts　to　and　from　work；　and　the　Supreme　Court　police　will　provide　backup　and　secure　this　building。〃
　　
　　〃What　about　travel？〃
　　
　　〃It's　not　a　good　idea；　at　least　for　now。　The　Director　thinks　the　justices　should　remain　in　the　D。C。　area　until　the　end　of　the　year。〃
　　
　　〃Are　you　crazy？　Is　he　crazy？　If　I　asked　my　brethren　to　follow　tha