And then the voiceover: "Madonna of the Tunnels, pray for us!"
It replayed immediately — a graffiti loop.
Brode turned to his aide and screamed, "Get her off there! Now!"
The aide said something into his throat mike. The loop disappeared in the middle of its third play.
Brode again trained his gaze on the crowd below. "As I was saying, I know you can do it. I saw yesterday's vid from the lower level. For a while there they were chanting your name instead of hers. You can get them chanting your name again. And then tell them their dear clone will be released from the complex as soon as they are completely dispersed."
Bit my lip to dispell the sudden light feeling that swept over me. Wasn't buying it yet.
"That true?""
He finally pulled himself away from the window and looked at me. His eyes were flat and cold.
"Of course it is."
"She'll be free to go?"
"In a way."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"She'll be free to go with her owner."
Jean back with Spinner — the sudden rage that ripped through me was barely controllable. If he hadn't been Regional Administrator…
"You think that's going to end this? It won't!"
"Oh, but it will. They'll come to her but she won't know them, won't know who or what they're talking about. There will be a few more rumbles, and then it will be over. Things will be back the way they used to be."
"She gets memwiped and you'll never hear the end of it!"
"That was a judicial decision. It's out of my hands."
"What about executive clemency or reprieve or some such dregging garbage!"
He turned back to the window. "It's a little too late for any of that now."
Just stood there staring at him, feeling a wind as cold and dark as deep space howl through the hollows of my heart. The air seemed thick. Couldn't draw it through my constricted throat. Gravity doubled, tripled. Stumbled to the nearest chair and sat there trying to breath.
Because when I caught my breath, I was going to put Brode through that window.
The single aide in the room with us must have been trained in reading postures. Big guy. He walked over and stood half way between Brode and me.
"Want to see her."
"Impossible. You know as well as I do that memwipe subjects are comatose for hours after the procedure, and disoriented for weeks."
There was silence for what seemed like a long time. My own mind felt like it had been wiped.
Finally Brode said,"Well? Will you speak to them?"
"You must be out of your dregging mind! I'll tell them to dismantle this place panel by panel, block by block!"
He turned to me. A smug look on his face.
"Will you? I don't think so. You seem to have a good thing going for you, Mr. Dreyer. Not much of a life to most people, but you seem to be enjoying it. You've got your hidden stash of gold, you've got your roguey friends such as the owner of that seedy tavern, your sometime roommate urchin, and that physician with the suspended license." The smiled thinly. "Just the kind of acquaintances I'd expect of a former buttonhead."
Didn't blink. Didn't even flinch. Too mad now to let any kind of insult get to me. But it was clear he'd had a deep probe done on my life.
"I can change your pitiful life, Mr. Dreyer. I can reopen the investigation into the deaths of those two NeuroNex employees who were sliced into pieces in your compartment. Your urchin friend was involved in that, wasn't he? I can shut down that tavern and send its owner to the South Pole for so many offenses he'll never see the sun at zenith again. I can see to it that your doctor friend's license is permanently revoked. I can make you wish you'd never been born, Mr. Dreyer."
"Don't count on it. Already been there and back."
"I can make your friends wish the same thing."
We stayed silent for a while, glaring at each other. We both knew I was going to lose. He was threatening Elmero and Doc and B.B. Couldn't take them down with me.
But something wasn't right here. Didn't know what it was, but sensed other players in this game. Had an idea.
"Let me talk to Lum."
"Lum?" he said, fury etching lines in his face. "Lum? He's in detention, awaiting sentencing — and it will be an interminable sentence if I have anything to say about it! He can't help you."
"Want to talk to him anyway. Not a major request."
Brode sighed. "Very well."
He nodded to his aide who spoke into his throat mike.
And then I waited, with the aide watching me as I watched Brode watch the mob outside.
— 14-
Noticed a thick, odd-looking silvery cuff on Arrel Lum's right wrist when he was led in. They let us to go off to a corner to talk, but first they activated his cuff.
"What's that?" I said.
Lum grinned sourly. "If you paid closer attention to my datacasts, you'd know. It's a gravcuff. I'm now locked to an axis through the earth's center of gravity. Plenty of vertical movement" — he moved his wrist up and down as far as he could reach-"but nothing laterally."
"Real bloaty," I said, then explained what Brode wanted. Knew every word of what we said was being recorded but didn't care. Lum listened for a while, then turned toward Brode.
"You know, Mr. Administrator, this could be your big chance to show you're more than just a politician. With a little creative thought on your part, you could actually come out on top here. You could prove yourself a real statesman. We haven't seen one of those in ages. We can clone out dinosaurs and dodos and Jean Harlows but-"
"They memwiped Jean," I said.
Lum reeled as if I'd punched him. Only the gravcuff kept him from stumbling back. He covered his eyes with his free hand. Thought for a moment he was going to break down, but he didn't.
"I really wanted to meet her," he said softly, pulling himself together and glaring at Brode.
"She's not dead," I told him.
He stared at me. "Yes, she is."
Knew he was right but tried not to think about it.
"What's Brode trying to get from me?" I asked.
Lum's smile was tight and a predatory. "Political salvation. Thanks to my datacast last night, the Harlow clone and the urchins have received worldwide attention. He's been getting heavy pressure from the Central Authority to defuse this bomb as quietly as possible. That's the main reason he hasn't slimed them. His political future is on the line."
"Good. But how'd you learn all this?"
"I'm allowed visitors. And all my friends are datapeople. So what's happening is he's passing the pressure. You're it. He's counting on getting you to cooperate."
And I had friends counting on me to cover for them.
"He's succeeding."
"Well, Mr. Dreyer," said Brode from across the room. "I'm waiting. Time is critical."
"All right," I called back. "Let's do it."
Lum's eyes were wide. "Do what?"
"Don't know yet."
The big aide was motioning me toward the door. As I headed his way I heard Lum say to no one in particular: "What about me?"
"You and I are going to have a talk, Mr. Lum," Brode said.
"I'd rather be in my cell."
"Nevertheless, we are going to discuss your ideas on statesmanship."
Then the door slipped shut behind me and closed them off.
— 15-
They coached me on what to say, made me repeat it over and over until I had it down perfectly. Then they fitted me with a transparent, thumbnail-size chin mike, a finger-control toggle for on/oft, and placed me on a float platform. Another of Brode's seemingly endless supply of aides piloted the thing. From far below, the chant continued: "… WEN-DEEEEEE! WEN-DEEEEEE! WEN-DEEEEEE!. "