?Forget it.? He reclaimed his card and turned to head for an open table near the edge of the exhibit line. I followed, sitting down across from him. He smiled. ?Consider it payback for the circulation figures I got off that little incident out at your encampment after the rally the other week. Remember??
?How could I forget?? I pulled a bottle of prescription-strength painkillers out of my shoulder bag, uncapping them with my thumb. ?That ?little incident? has been defining my life for weeks.?
?Got any juicy details for an old friend??
It had been impossible to keep from releasing the fact that the screamers had been sabotaged. Even if we?d wanted to damage our ratings that way, the families of the victims could have sued us for interfering with a federal case if we?d attempted to suppress details. I shook my head. ?Not that the press hasn?t already released.?
?The dangers of pumping industry sources,? Mr. Stahl said, and sipped his coffee. ?Seriously, though, how have things been around the camp? Everything going smoothly??
?Relatively so,? I said, shaking four pills into my palm and slamming them down with a long gulp of icy water. Once I finished swallowing, I added, ?Tense, but smooth. There haven?t been any real leads on who sabotaged our perimeter. Causes a bit of internal strife, if you understand what I?m saying.?
?Unfortunately, I do.? Mr. Stahl shook his head. ?Whoever it was must have been careful to cover their tracks.?
?With good reason. People died in that attack. That makes it murder and that means they could be tried under Raskin-Watts. Most folks don?t commit acts of terrorism expecting to get caught.? I took another slower sip of water, waiting for the painkillers to kick in.
Mr. Stahl nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. ?I know. Carl Boucher was a blowhard and an opinionated bastard, but he didn?t deserve to die like that. None of those folks did. Good or bad, people deserve better deaths than that.? He pushed away from the table, taking his coffee with him. ?Well, I need to go meet up with my camera crew. We?re interviewing Wagman in half an hour, and she likes it when her news crews are prompt. You take care of yourself, Miss Mason, all right??
?Do my best,? I replied, with a nod. ?You?ve got my e-mail address.?
?I?ll keep in touch,? he assured me, and turned, striding off into the crowd. It swallowed him up, and he was gone.
I stayed where I was, sipping my water and considering the atmosphere of the room. In some ways, it was like a cross between a carnival and a frat party, with people of all ages, stripes, and creeds bent on having as much fun as they could before it was time to leave for less well-secured climes. Signs hanging from the ceiling directed voters of the various districts where they should go if they wanted to place their votes in the old, physical way, rather than doing them from home via real-time electronic ballot. From the way most folks were ignoring the signs, I guessed the majority had placed their votes online before hitting the convention center. The paper-voting booths are more of a curiosity than anything else, maintained because the law insists that anyone who wishes to do so be able to place their ballot via physical, nonelectronic means. What this really means is that we can?t get exact results on any election until the paper ballots have been tabulated, even when ninety-five percent of the votes have been already placed electronically.
The tobacco companies weren?t the only ones working the time-honored selling power of half-clothed female flesh to push their wares. Girls wearing little more than a bikini and a smile were weaving their way in and out of the crowd, offering buttons and banners with political slogans to the passersby. More than half the swag was finding its way into nearby trash cans or onto the floor. Most of the buttons that stayed on, I noted, were either promoting Senator Ryman or Governor Tate, who was definitely shaping up to be Ryman?s closest in-party competitor. Congresswoman Wagman had been able to ride her one-trick pony pretty far, but the buzz was pretty uniform in agreeing that it wouldn?t get her much further. You can take the ?porn star? platform a long way, but it?s never going to get you to the White House. Signs indicated it would either be Ryman or Tate for the Republican nomination.
The results of the day would probably solidify one of them in the lead and make the upcoming convention nothing but a formality. I?d been hoping for a third candidate to mix things up at least a little, but there hadn?t been any real breakouts on the campaign trail. Among the Republican voters?and even some of the Democrats and Independents?it was either Ryman?s brand of laid-back ?we should all get along while we?re here,? or Tate?s hellfire and damnation that was attracting the attention, and hence the potential support, of just about everyone.