It was quickly discovered that the insanity could be transmitted electronically. With the TV censorship system burned out by virus, the images from New York – the giant skywalkers and the madness they had caused – went out unchecked, all over the country. As soon as the footage hit the screens in another city the same thing happened. Chicago, St. Louis, and Atlanta were infected immediately. New Orleans, Baltimore, and Detroit lasted an hour. Los Angeles held out for almost four hours, but when the Crazy got going, that city suffered one of the most spectacular outbreaks in the country. Hymn-singing arsonists burned huge tracts of the bone-dry Hollywood Hills, and naked millionaires ran down Rodeo Drive trying to give away their money. The gay underground took it as the signal to rise. Armed drag queens battled deacons to a standstill in a firelight that ran for twenty blocks down Santa Monica Boulevard.
The original plan had intended that Arlen Proverb go on TV the moment Faithful was in custody and pitch the idea of a brave new world to the country. That crucial move quickly fell victim to the Crazy. Dreisler had Proverb stashed in a safe house on the Upper East Side. When the signal was given, Proverb was supposed to get to a small basement studio and give his address, to those who still thought there might be a tomorrow, through a remote feed. The signal was sent, but nothing came back. It was discovered that the landline from the uptown studio had been put out of commission by an over-zealous virus. The backup plan called for Proverb to go across the park to another studio located at Seventy-ninth and Amsterdam. According to a garbled phone message, Proverb had set off with an escort but had not been heard from since. There were reports that thousands had gathered in Central Park to pray for the end. It was all too possible that the sight of a white limo trying to bull its way through might have driven them into a kill frenzy.
In the com center, a single screen was flashing regular blue and yellow pulses. An operator pointed to it. "That could be someone trying to get a visual signal in and it's being blocked."
Dreisler glanced at Hama. "Can you jack in and create a channel for it to get through?"
The Japanese bowed. "Of course."
He quickly connected his DNI leads. Under flaps of skin that resembled gills, the cowboy had rows of receptors on each side of his head that ran from ear to collarbone. There was nothing remotely like him anywhere in the U.S.A. If America decided to rejoin the rest of the world, they might find it an alien place.
Within seconds, an image of Proverb replaced the blue and yellow pulsing. His hair was messed and mere was a cut over his left eye, but otherwise he seemed okay. At first, he was mouthing soundlessly, like a fish in an aquarium, but then the audio cut in with an amplified crackle.
"… hear me? Is there anybody out there?"
Dreisler was on his feet. "Proverb, can you hear me?"
Proverb nodded. "I can hear you, but I can't see you."
Dreisler turned to Hama again. "Can we patch him to the satellite send?"
"No problem."
"Okay, Alien, can you go on the air?"
Proverb pushed his hair back out of his eyes. "Now?"
"Right now."
"I'm a bit of a mess, but I guess so."
Dreisler looked around the room. "Get ready to transmit this on all available channels. I don't want any mistakes." His attention switched to Proverb. "Are you ready, Alien?"
Carlisle supposed that Dreisler was what had once been called a natural leader. He had his doubts about where the deacon might be leading them, though.
Proverb nodded. The professional communicator was coming through. "On your cue."
"I'll give you a ten-second count."
Proverb had appeared on all the TV monitor screens. A digital display counted off the time. Cynthia Kline slipped into the seat next to Harry Carlisle. She quickly squeezed his arm.
"Is it going to be possible for us to be friends when all this is over?" she asked quietly.
Carlisle raised a helpless hand. "Let's find out when all this is all over."
"Are we through? Are you that angry with me?"
Carlisle shook his head. "Not angry. It's just hard dealing with the idea that all the time we were sleeping together, we were actually on opposite sides."
"I couldn't tell you who I really was. You must realize that."
"I realize it all on a logical level. It's the emotional acceptance that I'm having trouble with. Hell, it was my job to catch you people and put you in jail, maybe see you hang. It's not an easy turnaround."
"We're on the same side now."
Carlisle sighed. "That is true."
Cynthia looked at him anxiously. "So?"
He took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "So let's see this thing through and then have a long talk about what we're going to do next."
Over on the other side of the room, Dreisler gestured with a flourish. "On the air."
A synthivoice provided the program interrupt. "We are taking you to New York City for a message from the Provisional Government of National Reconstruction."
Proverb betrayed one flash of uncertainty, and then the pro was in business. He had the expression of a man who had seen some hard times but knew he was going to win out in the end. Carlisle realized that another piece of history was being made.
"My friends, there's some of you out there who know me and some who don't. For those of you who don't, my name is Arlen Proverb. This morning I was a preacher and pretty sure of myself. Tonight, after everything that has happened, I'm just an American, and there's only one thing that I'm still certain about. I want to see this country regain its self-respect."
Speedboat
"… I want to see this country regain its self-respect. It seems that some of us have forgotten that when you come down to it, that's all any of us are – just Americans."
Speedboat reached for his beer. "What are they high on down there?"
He lay flat on his chest on the bed in the beat-up Buffalo motel room. For once he was glued to the TV instead of using it to merely ease the interminable waiting. It came and it went. It was yanked off the air and then restored minutes later. For a while, Canadian programming had leaked through the jamming, but that had abruptly stopped. Regular programs would start only to be interrupted by wild, insane footage of the monsters attacking New York and the population going into screaming panic. Even he could see that the monsters were holograms, but the panic was absolutely real. New York had gone crazy, and the rest of the country appeared to be following suit.
Aden Proverb was going on about a country divided and a country reborn. Speedboat switched channels to see if he could get any more live coverage of the craziness. To his dismay he found that Alien Proverb was on every channel. He abruptly killed the volume. Then he thought he heard noises outside the room. He heard them again. He rolled over.