Chapter 9
Sunday, 31 January 2016, Des Moines, Iowa
"Are you sure you don't want any of this?" Shaw raised his unwieldy pork tenderloin sandwich toward the Doctor. After the Doctor shook his head the Senator took a huge, messy bite.
They were currently in transit from the meet and greet at Rachel's house back to the Hilton Garden Inn, where Shaw had a speaking engagement. At Shaw's urging, Fred, his bodyguard cum driver, stopped at B&B Grocery, Meat and Deli. The sandwich shop was apparently a well-known dining place for politicians, their operatives and the media during the caucuses. Their stop at the deli ran long while Shaw greeted other diners, shook hands, and signed autographs.
The Doctor stirred his salad around inside its foam container. His stomach was still queasy from the vortex manipulator. He hoped his profound disgust at the senator's greasy pork sandwich didn't show on his face. If only you knew how genetically similar a pig is to a human, maybe you would think twice about ordering something like that.
"Now tell us about this urgent new information, Doctor Smith. What does the Brookings Institute know that our own guys wouldn't know?" This was from the campaign manager, who had introduced himself as "Jameson Starck – that's S-T-A-R-C-K" right before he tore into a meatball sandwich. Red sauce leaked out and dripped onto his tie. The Doctor considered alerting him to the new adornment but thought better of it. He closed the lid on his salad. His stomach felt immediately better once the food was out of view.
"Okay. As I mentioned, my team does data modelling. We've been looking at the most recent polling figures. We ran different models with the data. Before I tell you what we've come up with I'd like to hear what you currently think your chances are here in Iowa, and if you stay in the contest."
Shaw looked like he was about to answer, but Starck cut him off. "Well, we know we're not as well-known as the other two candidates. That's about funding and super PACs. The system is really stacked against us because we don't have a lot of wealthy contributors. What we do have is a good grassroots base of support. We probably won't win very many delegates today, but we'll win a few. And we're bound to do better come Super Tuesday, after the next round of debates."
The Doctor noticed that Shaw flinched when Starck said 'debates.'
"And what do you think, Senator?" he asked.
The Senator took a moment to think before answering.
"Well, I know I'm a long shot. To be honest, I don't expect to win, but I do think it's important that people have a centrist candidate to vote for.
"The other two candidates are so polarized that it will be hard for Democratic voters to unite behind either of them. If Starck is right and I can just get a fingerhold, we can gain momentum, and, you never know, I could win the nomination. If not, I could be the running mate for one of my competitors."
But Shaw's nonverbals told a different story. The Doctor had a hunch that Shaw was not nearly as optimistic as his campaign manager. He took a breath and summoned his most authoritative expression.
"It's interesting that you brought up the extreme positions of your competitors. That was something we took a good look at. As you probably know from your own experts and your considerable experience as an elected official, candidates often begin a race in an extremely progressive or extremely conservative position to win the attention of the voters. Whether it's positive or negative attention, they get their positions on issues out there. Over time, as the field narrows, the remaining candidates do typically move toward the center, modifying their rhetoric to accommodate a broader base."
"You're not telling us anything new, Smith—"
The Doctor cut Starck off.
"Our studies take that dynamic into account, but, more importantly, factor in current events – the domestic picture, the international climate, and all of the key issues." He leaned forward and made eye contact with Shaw.
"Senator, based on everything we're seeing, you have no chance of winning enough electoral votes to win the Democratic nomination. You would do better to bow out gracefully now and support the conservative candidate. You align with her on most of the issues."
Shaw looked relieved. Starck looked irritated. The Doctor rolled on.
"If you do that now, you will be in a good position to be her running mate or a cabinet member if the Democratic party wins the presidency. If the Republicans win, you'll have a good chance at a more senior role in the party from which you can grow your base for the 2020 presidential election.
"This is the right time to withdraw. If you continue with your campaign, you will likely pick up enough electoral votes to destabilize the conservative candidate, and the progressive candidate will win the nomination. It's no secret that you and he have butted heads, and there will likely be no place for you in the cabinet if he gets elected.
"And, statistically, he is a higher-risk candidate who will be less likely to win against the Republican candidate, no matter which Republican wins the nomination. It will serve both you and the party better if you bow out now."
This proclamation was met with silence. The traffic light turned green and the car rolled through the intersection. Fred activated the blinker as he turned left to pull up in front of the hotel entrance. Shaw was the first to break the silence.
"That's what I've been thinking all along. It was really just a matter of when I should pull the trigger – after Iowa or after New Hampshire." Starck schooled his expression.
"Look, Doctor Smith, you're not telling us anything we haven't already heard from our own advisors. I'm not sure why you came all this way to tell us, to be honest, but thanks for your perspective."
"So, you will withdraw, then?" The Doctor directed this again to Shaw, who had perhaps grown too used to listening to his campaign manager instead of his advisors. The Senator looked thoughtful, and then decisive.
"Yes. This evening, once most of the polling results are in. I will still meet with this next group, and we'll hold off on telling the team until right before I make the announcement."
Starck's expression was inscrutable. "You will not say anything about this yourself, right Doctor Smith? We don't want any leaks on this."
The Doctor smiled. "Of course. Thanks. Well, best of luck with the rest of the day, then."
He offered Shaw his hand and the senator shook it. The politician's hand was warm and sweaty. Starck shook his hand as well. The Doctor resisted an urge to wipe his hand on his trousers afterwards.
They bid farewell in the lobby. The Doctor watched the two Americans walk back toward campaign headquarters and then found a discrete alcove near the valet station where he could make his departure unobserved.
Wednesday, 03 February 2016, Earth, Hilton Garden Inn, Des Moines, Iowa
06:00
He materialized in the same coordinates as his original arrival. This time, he managed to keep his feet, though his stomach was decidedly cranky. He stayed bent at the waist for nearly two minutes while he negotiated with the disgruntled organ.
When he was reasonably confident that he wasn't going to vomit, he straightened up and had a look around. Once again, the courtyard was unoccupied, and graced with two inches of fresh snow. The Doctor shivered involuntarily, suddenly aware that he was sweating copiously.
Quick and dirty time travel. I really am a bit old for this.
He bought a newspaper at the reception desk and settled in an over-stuffed chair by the fireplace in the lobby, happy for the warmth. It was on the front page of the papers, of course. The Doctor cursed out loud.
Shaw routed in Iowa, optimistic about New Hampshire
After receiving no delegates from Tuesday's Iowa caucuses, Senator Martin Shaw (D) of Maryland remains hopeful about his chances in the upcoming New Hampshire primaries and also Super Tuesday, when voters in 11 states go to the polls. Senator Shaw's campaign manager, Jameson Starck, gave an update on the Senator's behalf after the polls closed Tuesday night.
"While Senator Shaw enjoyed spending much time with potential Iowa voters over the last week, we weren't too surprised by the poll results. We didn't expect much support in Iowa. New Hampshire is another story. The Senator has a lot of east coast support, and we're counting on our New Hampshire base to get out to the polls. He is already on his way there, where he has town halls scheduled in each precinct between now and February 9th. And, of course, you will see him in the Durham debate, as well."
The article went on to break down how many delegates Shaw would need to receive in the next two weeks, but the Doctor didn't bother reading it. The headline said it all. Shaw did not withdraw from the race as he said he would.
The Doctor returned to the courtyard, drawing the curious interest of the attendant at the reception desk as he exited the lobby mere minutes after arriving. After a quick scan to confirm that the courtyard was unoccupied, he braced himself and pressed the Home button on the vortex manipulator.
Inside the TARDIS
This time, the negotiations with his stomach were woefully unsuccessful. He felt the TARDIS' horror and concern as the small bit of coffee and salad he'd ingested hit the floor grate and trickled down to the lower level. He cracked his eyes open when he was sure the paroxysm of vomiting was over. He heard the sizzle of steam rising from his leavings as the effected surfaces super-heated to burn off the mess.
"Thanks," he said aloud to the TARDIS. He felt her compassion in return.
He checked the video feed from outside of the TARDIS and saw that the guard was now seated at the table where earlier Peter had made his list of questions, playing a holographic game.
While anxious to make his next visit and hopefully sort out the timeline, the Doctor took the time to look in on Peter and also check on is knee and change his trousers. It would be a little odd if he showed up two weeks after the Iowa primary still in the same torn slacks. He made his way stiffly to a room he rarely visited—his bedroom.
The TARDIS had placed a nice vase of aromatic flowers on the dresser, and a first aid kit in the attached bathroom. While both knees were bruised, the left one was no longer swollen, and the abrasion was completely healed. He cleaned up the crust of dried blood.
While working over his knee, he spied his reflection in the mirror and noticed he needed some attention from his razor. While removing the dark stubble, he couldn't help but notice the shadows under his eyes and his pale complexion.
Three trips so far, and I'm not weathering it well, he thought. If the symptoms didn't start to ease off, he would need to plan an extra trip to find a different means of time travel. That was risky, could be time-consuming, and also potentially unsuccessful. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.
He washed his face, applied a little after shave, took a quick look in the mirror and called it good enough.
Back in the console room, the Doctor studied the next segment of the time audit related to the US primaries, focusing on the New Hampshire contest, and Shaw in particular. It took a while to finally select the time and place for his next visit – the morning of February 9th, the day of the New Hampshire primaries. Shaw would be alone in his hotel room. He was sure he'd have a better chance convincing the senator to bow out if Starck were not present. He also decided a dramatic entrance might serve him well.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself for yet another rocky voyage via vortex manipulator, and pressed the Execute button.
Tuesday, 09 February 2016, Earth, Holiday Inn, Durham, New Hampshire
06:30
Along with the now-familiar nausea, the Doctor felt a strong tingling sensation in his hands and feet as he materialized in Shaw's hotel room. The man himself was sitting up against the headboard of the bed dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, coffee cup poised midway to his mouth.
The Doctor just barely had time to appreciate the look of shock on the Senator's face before he was seized by a strong wave of dizziness. Black spots filled his vision. He felt himself falling. He knew no more.