"This isn't the first time in history someone's tried this; and by everything I've ever learned, the answer that works with them is exactly the land of contempt Novgorod turns on them and their ideascontempt, but no patience, no patience. Every time the Council sits to debate honest differences, everybody wins, precisely because civilization is working and the majority and the minority are trying to work out a fair compromise that protects the people they represent. That's why these types who want their own way above all have to destroy that; and that's precisely why the best answer is a consensus of all the elected bodies that ideas are valuable, peaceful voices deserve serious consideration, human needs have to be dealt with in a wise distribution of resources, and the principle of life itself has to be high on our list of values, just under our regard for the quality of life and the freedom to speak our opinions. Whoever did this, from whatever misguided notion of right above the law, he hasn't scared me into retreat, he's made me know how important law is; and I will run for office, someday; I'll run, and I'll respect the vote in my electorate, whatever the outcome, because an honest contest is one thing, but creating chaos to undermine the people's chosen representative isn't dissent, it's sabotage of the process, the same as the bombers are trying, and I'll have no part of that either."
Hear that, Vladislaw Khalid.
"If my electorate does think I should sit on Council I'll remember the cost it takes to have Council at all; and I'll remember that we have to have it, no matter the types who think they're above the law and so right they can take lives with impunity.
"That's the end of my personal statement. I've been very happy until now being as private as I could be; and I can't be now, because somebody decided to kill people to keep me from ever speaking out. So now I will speak up, loud and clear and often as there's something to say, because that's the best way I know to fight the ones who want me silenced.
"I'll take questions."
It was all right, she thought. She got off with a: "I'm sorry, my voice is going"; and a tremor in the hand she used to wipe a stray strand of hairno need to pretend the latter: she had hid it until then, and got away from the cameras and had to sit down quickly, but she had gotten through it and said exactly what she had wanted to say.
"Is there any word?" she asked Catlin, who had been monitoring the net.
"No, sera," Catlin said.
She let go her breath and took the water Florian handed her. "Damn." Tears threatened, pain and exhaustion and the frustration of the situation. It was dawn. She had not slept since the morning of Giraud's funeral. Yesterday. God. "I'm going to make a phone call to Amy," she said in a controlled, quiet voice. "Ask Lynch to set up a very brief meeting with the Councillors and proxies at hand; and with the Bureau; I want to be at the airport by 0900."
"Sera, you haven't slept. Allow for that."
She sat a moment and thought about that. The blast kept replaying in her memory. The burned bodies. The smoke-filled halls, the lights shining out of haze.
She had no desire to shut her eyes at the moment, or to put food into her stomach, or to disturb her wounds by wrestling herself into the sweater she had brought: such little pains unnerved her, when there was so much worse to think about.
So one did not think about what-if and might-have-been. One handled things at the present, and trusted one's long-prepared decisions.
One Worked the whole of Union if that was what it took. One promised order where order did not exist; one held out the promise of moderation and rapprochement to shore up Corain, who was the opposition she preferred to Khalid.
One moved close to center for a while, to move the opposition closer to one's positiongranted, of course, that they were trying to do the same: and granted at that point the clever and the quick would make the next jump out, leaving the opposition sitting bewildered at the new center.
Working the macrosystem, Ari senior would say.
While everything else went to hell and nothing that one wantedstayed for long.
Except Florian and Catlin. Except the one flawless loyaltythe one thing that Ari's murderer had not dared to face.
Justin waked, winced at stiffened joints and the cramped position the thinly-padded bench in the restroom afforded; waked and tried to move in a hurry at the sound of the outer doors, to rake his hair into some kind of order and get to his feet before the intrusion passed the second doors; but he was only halfway up and off his balance before he faced two men in work-clothes, who stared at him half a heartbeat in surprise. He just turned to the sink, natural as breathing, turned on the water, wet his hands and ran them through his hair.
Except the two men showed up in the mirror, close behind him.
One moment he panicked. The next he thought: Hell, they're not Reseune Security, and turned around with a right elbow and all the strength he hadshocked as it connected, but still moving in the tape-taught sequence, full spin and a punch to the breastbone.
He stared a split-second at the result, one man flung backward against the corner, the other down God, he thought, and then seeing the first man bracing to go for him, darted for the door and knocked it banging, went through the second the same way, and came out into a tunnel already beginning to fill with morning traffic.
What if I was wrong? That man could die. I may have killed someone.
Then: No. I read it right.
And: I haven't studied that tape since I was a kid. I didn't know I could do that.
He slowed to a fast walk, shaking in the knees and hurting in his shoulders and his back and knowing he was attracting attention with his unshaven face and his agitated manner: he tried to match the pace of the general traffic, put his hands in his pockets and tried to look more casual, all the while thinking that the men could be after him now with more than robbery in mind.
Damn, I'd have given them the keycard and wished them luck using it, let them lead the police on a chase
God. No. Novgorod doesn't have a check-system. There's no tracking system, they refused to put it in.
He turned on one foothis neck and shoulders were too stiffcaught his balance, looked back and moved on. He was not sure he could even recognize the men among the crowds
More strangers than I've ever seen at once in my whole lifetoo many faces, too many people in clothes too much alike. . . .
People jostled him and cursed him: Damn z-case, a man said. He rubbed an unshaven chin and, since shutters were opening and shops were lighting up in this section of the tunnels, he found a pharmacy and bought a shaving kit; and a breakfast counter and bought a roll-up and a glass of synth orange. But the boy took an extra look at the keycard and made him nervous.
Justin Patrick Warrick, it said, CIT 976-088-2355PR, which was damning enough; but in faint outline behind that was the Infinite Man emblem of Reseune Administrative Territory.