“I have no idea.”
The guards were signaling for them to move. “Drake,” she said, “I have to get to the command center. I’ll see you later.”
“Why?”
“It’s where I’m supposed to report in case of emergency.”
More hatches were closing. That entire section of the concourse was being sealed off. Frank let James see he was listening to his link. Then he said, “You’re a graduate student at Western Indiana University.”
“You guys are pretty good.”
“James Addison. You’re working on a master’s in literature.” He sounded surprised.
“I’m not much interested in delaying tactics, Frank.”
“I’m not trying to delay anything. I’m just wondering why you ended up here threatening strangers.”
Patricia came out of an elevator and jogged through the door leading to the command center. Priscilla followed her into the room, where Abel Parker, wearing an earpod, sat at the comm panel. The restaurant scene was on a wide display.
James looked painfully casual. “So what are you going to do, Frank? Do I get my airtime?”
Abel reacted to something that had just come in on his earpod, gave Patricia a thumbs-up, and leaned over to speak into the mike. “Frank, tell him he’s on. We’ve got a feed through Worldwide. Tell him to look at the imager. It’s over the main door.”
Frank passed the message on, and James looked directly out of the display. The nervous look was gone. “What about it, Monk?” he said.
Abel listened and then nodded. “He said yes. They’ve got it.”
“Okay,” said James. “Just so you know, Frank, when this is over, my buddy’s going to let me know how things went. If I don’t hear from him, or if I hear anything I don’t like, you can say good-bye to everybody. You understand?”
“Yes. I understand.” Frank pointed toward the entrance. “Look that way. The imager’s over the doors.”
“Okay. Good.” James turned and smiled. Everybody’s best friend. “Hello,” he said. The good humor didn’t come through. “My name’s James Addison. In case anybody out there’s wondering, I’m an American. Originally from Aurora, Kansas. We are currently in the process of killing off an entire world, every living thing on it. Most of you are probably not aware of this, but the World Space Authority, which is financed by us, by the citizens of this country, and by the citizens of a lot of other countries, is aiding and abetting this vicious genocide.
“That world has as many animals, as many life-forms, as we have on Earth. And we are massacring them. Killing every last one. I wish I had pictures to show you. I mean, many of these are very much like the cats and dogs and parrots and rabbits we keep as pets.
“They call it terraforming, and the world I’m talking about has been code-named Selika.
“If you’re wondering how and why we are going to kill these helpless creatures, it’s because we want their world for colonization. We want to take it over. But before we can do that, we have to change the environment. We have to change the mixture of gases in the atmosphere. We have to make it warmer. We have to produce more rain. And those actions may sound harmless, but they are lethal to creatures that have been living there for several billion years.
“And this is only the beginning. We’re initiating the same process on another world. God knows when, if ever, we’ll stop.
“That brings us to the question of what we can do. You and me. There is currently a bill before the Congress—”
Patricia rolled her eyes. “Full-scale nut job.”
“This bill,” James continued, “is HR210. It provides for a halt on terraforming until a further examination of the consequences can be made. It’s not as strong as what we need, which is a total ban, period, with no further debate. But it’s a—” He stopped, lifted a link to his ear, and listened for a moment. Then his face hardened, and he turned toward Frank. “I don’t know whether you’re aware or not, Frank, but they’ve blocked the broadcast.”
“That can’t be right.” Frank, for the first time, lost his cool demeanor. “Give us a minute. Something like this, it takes time to set up. You didn’t give us enough time.”
James shook his head. No. “You don’t allow me to communicate in a rational way—” He lifted the device, stared at it, and showed it to the imager. “You’re not giving me any choice.”
There were gasps and cries from the people in the room. “Please don’t.” “For God’s sake—” “You can’t do this.” “The kids.”
“Please, Mr. Addison.”
Abel was talking into the mike, nodding, looking back at Patricia. “Frank,” he said, “they’re telling us the broadcast is going out.”
Frank took a couple of steps forward. Stopped when James held out a cautionary palm. “Whoever that is on your link,” he said, “they’re giving you bad information. You’re still on.”
James stared back at him. “You’d have no qualms about lying, would you?”
“For God’s sake, I’m not interested in putting all these lives at risk. You’re getting the coverage you asked for.”
James poked at his link. Looked up. Nodded. “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “He’s telling me I’m back on. But don’t try that again.” He returned to speech mode: “There are a lot of us who are not going to stand by while these people destroy entire worlds. It’s just starting, and God knows where it will lead. Nobody will benefit from it except outfits like Kosmik. I am warning the people who are behind this: Shut it down, or we will shut it down for you. And shut you down as well.” He drew his right index finger across his throat, signaling that he was finished.
“That’s it?” asked Frank, who was taking no chances.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
James looked around the room. “Everybody may leave now. But go slowly, and don’t anybody get close to me.”
The diners cautiously got up from their tables and started for the doors, where they piled up, waiting for them to open. When finally they did, they hurried out until there remained only Frank, James, and a couple of security people.
“Time to go,” said James.
“What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to extract a price from you people, something to remind you about what we’ve been talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Get out of here and seal the doors.”
“Don’t do it, James.”
“Get out, Frank. Or you’ll go with me.”
Frank hesitated, took a step toward the exit, and stopped. He signaled the guards to leave and close the doors. Then he turned back to James. “If you kill us, nobody will ever take you seriously.”
“Get out.” The guards stared at them from outside the window. “Frank,” said James, “you’ve got two minutes.”
Patricia looked around the small room, eyes desperate. “We need a distraction.”
“The outside projector,” said Priscilla. “Why don’t we throw a comet at him?”
Patricia leaned over the mike. “Frank, we’re going to try to distract him.”
Abel was reaching for a tab. But Patricia pulled his hand away. “No,” she said. “Scare him and he’ll probably loosen his grip. We need something to make him tighten up.” That steady gaze fell on Priscilla. “Abel, do we have an imager?”
He started searching through a cabinet while James repeated his warning. “Here,” he said, producing one from a drawer filled with cable, tools, and instruments.
Patricia took it, pointed it at Priscilla, and tied it into the console. “I need you to do something that’ll catch his attention.”