But she didn?t win. Despite the general malaise of the voting public and their willingness to put ?interesting? above ?good for them? in nine out of ten cases, Wagman?s run for the presidential seat proved to be the tenth event. Why was this? I place the blame partially on Senator Peter Ryman, a man who proved that style and substance can be combined to the benefit of both, and, more important, that integrity is not actually dead.
I also blame After the End Times and Georgia Mason, for their willingness to get into the campaign in a way that has seldom been seen in this century. Their reporting hasn?t been impartial or perfect, but it has something we see even more rarely than integrity.
It has heart.
It is with great joy that I report that the youth of America aren?t actually riddled with ennui and apathy; that the truth hasn?t been fully forsaken for the merely entertaining; that there?s a place in this world for reporting the facts as accurately and concisely as possible and allowing people to draw their own conclusions.
I?ve never been more proud of finding a place where I can belong.
?From Another Point of True,
the blog of Richard Cousins, March 18, 2040
Sixteen
The discussion lasted late into the morning. People dropped off the conference one by one, until it was just Rick, Mahir, and me. Shaun had long since passed out at his terminal, leaning back in his chair and snoring. Rick?s newly acquired cat was curled up on his chest with its tail tucked over its nose, occasionally opening an eye to glare at the room.
?I don?t like this, Georgia,? said Mahir, worry and exhaustion blurring his normally crisp English accent into something much softer. He ran his hand through his hair. He?d been doing that for hours, and it was sticking up in all directions. ?The situation is starting to sound like it isn?t exactly safe.?
?You?re on the other side of the planet, Mahir. I don?t think you?re going to get hurt.?
?It?s not my safety I?m concerned with here. Are you sure we want to continue to pursue the situation? I?d rather not be reporting your obituary.? He sounded so anxious that I couldn?t be angry with him. Mahir?s a good guy. A little conservative, and generally inclined to avoid taking risks, but a good guy and a fabulous Newsie. If he couldn?t understand why we were pursuing things, I just needed to make them clearer.
?Everyone who died at the ranch was murdered,? I said. His image winced. ?The people who died in Eakly were murdered, too, and that set of casualties nearly included me and Shaun. There?s something connected to this candidate and this campaign that someone wants to see destroyed, and they?re not above causing a little collateral damage. You want to know if we want to continue pursuing the situation. I want to know what makes you think we can afford not to.?
Mahir smiled, reaching up to adjust his glasses. ?I was assuming you?d say something along those lines, but I wanted to be certain of it. Rest assured that you have the full support of everyone here. If there?s anything I can do, all you have to do is say so.?
?You know, Mahir, your support is something I never worry about. I may have something for you very soon,? I said. ?Although if you play ?test the boss? again, I may kill you. For now, it?s almost four in the morning, and the senator?s going to want to talk before much longer. I hereby declare this discussion over. Rick, Mahir, thanks for sticking it out.?
?Any time,? said Rick, voice echoing as the relay raced to keep up with him. His window blinked out.
?Cheers,? said Mahir, and logged off. I closed the conference, standing. I was so stiff that it felt like my spine had been replaced with carved teak, and my eyes were burning. I removed my sunglasses and rubbed my face, trying to relieve some of the tension. It wasn?t working.
?Bed?? asked Rick.
I nodded. ?Don?t take this the wrong way, but??
?Get out. I know. Wake me when it?s time to go??
?I will.?
?Good night, Georgia. Sleep well.? Rick opened the adjoining door with a faint creak. I opened my eyes, turning to wave as he slipped out.
?You too, Rick,? I said. Then the door was closed, and I staggered to the bed, shedding clothes as I went. When I was down to T-shirt and panties, I abandoned the notion of looking for nightclothes and crawled under the covers, closing my eyes again as I sank into blessed darkness.
?Georgia.?
The voice was vaguely familiar. I pondered its familiarity for a moment, and then rolled over, deciding I didn?t need to give a damn.
?Georgia.?
There was more anxiousness to the voice this time. Maybe I needed to pay attention to it. It wasn?t the sort of anxiousness that said ?Pay attention or something is going to eat your face.? I made a faint grumbling noise and didn?t open my eyes.