Under the usual run of things, there'd be a period of negotiation that ran across assorted matters across the nation and the unwinnable second spot on the Senate ticket in the Territory would go to someone or other under a factional quid pro quo that was a footnote to other, more significant matters.
And that would take time to play out.
In the meantime, Ballantyne continued doing what he had been doing before that Sunday afternoon: building the network that would form the basis of a Vote 1 Ballantyne campaign, regardless of where the candidate's name appeared on the ballot paper.
Using notions he'd picked up from American politics, Ballantyne reckoned a candidate without factional allies needed a grassroots style campaign, so that was what he was in the process of setting up.
Regardless of where anyone sat on the factional spectrum, everyone had a number of different hats on the hat stand, and everyone loved to gossip.
All Ballantyne needed was an excuse to give someone a ring. You had an issue with something or other a while back. An outbreak of scabies or some other minor but endemic infection or someone's dialysis. What's the latest on that? And how's so and so?
Very few of his contacts minded a chat.
Many of them welcomed a call, particularly if they were tucked away in some corner of the homelands.
Calls that had some medical basis went onto the GSMC books as business-related and were therefore tax-deductible, so Ballantyne wasn't overly concerned if someone was inclined to ramble.