Viewers had a choice of live feeds from Inter-Vehicle Information Systems that clearly indicated where the fighting was going on, or even live video from combat suits headed to or involved in the fighting. An encounter between First Battalion Five Hundred Eighth Mobile Infantry and a small landing outside Redmond, Washington had the highest audience rating in history, surpassing even the final hours of the Battle of Fredericksburg. The fact that it occurred at primetime had something to do with it.
And the highest rated «show» for the battle was not on any of the networks. The output of a website dedicated to Armed Forces news and issues was the most common «hit» on several major search engines for «combat news.» This relatively minor website had nearly sixty million simultaneous connections for the full three hours of the battle. The entire event was «commentated» by text box overlays, unit descriptions and explanatory graphics.
The «commentator» was a former Army colonel who was too old, even with regen, to have been recalled. His expert analysis was compiled by a team of communication-savvy internet geeks, then interactively viewed by over a hundred million people in the United States alone. Not only did he determine in advance the precise outcome of the battle, he was correct within two suits of the total friendly casualties. The video was enhanced with audio clips from the battle and erudite commentary on the similarity to battles ranging back to the campaigns of Sargon. Sun Tzu was frequently quoted, leading to overloads in most of the search engines that had led to the site. And their primary advertiser, which was Barrett assault rifles, experienced the largest ordering frenzy any site had ever seen. They and all their linked sales outlets immediately went into terminal overload.
But the «major media» ignored these quiet inroads on their market share and continued to concentrate on the tactics that had worked for them in the past.
So when the crowd surged back from the Marine Guards, the reporters crowded in. The screams of the hysterical refugees, already driven to the brink of despair by the loss of their homes and the possessions that they had accumulated over the years, were faithfully broadcast across the world.
The Marine captain put his hand on the President's chest as the rest of the company deployed. «Not until it's safe,» he growled. The President, still holding the hated helmet, just nodded his head. The sound of the plasteel armor slamming through the troop doors and the diesel engine overrode any note from outside. But a moment later the detail chief put his head in the door.
«Sir,» he said, his face tight. He was in a dilemma. The crowd was about to turn into a riot and the only person who might stop that was the President. But by the same token, doing so would be nightmarishly dangerous.
Captain Hadcraft put his hand up to his helmet, then cursed. Since he had been on speaker it was faithfully reproduced. «Sir,» he said, grabbing the President by the arm, «we got another problem.»
The President ducked to keep from smashing his head on the troop door. The suit was already trying to adjust to his shape and style of movement, but occasionally it interpreted his sharp, precise movements as a command to jump. Fortunately that had not happened while he was in the crew compartment with his helmet off. Now it propelled him out and down the troop ramp in a near sprawl.
As he came around the back of the AFV it was immediately apparent what the problem was. He looked back and forth for a moment from the Marines with lowered weapons to the surging crowd and the news cameras.
«Christ,» he whispered, «what else is going to go wrong?»
He thought for just a moment and the capacity for rapid and effective action that had stood him in good stead in his climb up the political ladder came to the fore.
«AID, the suit can act as an amplifier, right? Like that suit unit did on Diess?»
«Yes, sir.»
«Okay, tell the damn Marines to raise their weapons.» He dragged himself up onto the roof, unable to find the footholes he knew should be there.
He reached the top of the vehicle just as the Marines raised their weapons. He dropped the helmet, raised his hands and said, «Amplify.»
«My fellow Americans!» were the words that boomed out of every suit at tremendous volume. The tornado of sound, the words and the familiar voice shocked the crowd from motion into inertia. The President put his hands on the hips of the suit and leaned forward. «I came to see what I could do to help!»
* * *
The President was in the midst of the crowd and the Secret Service was frantic. They could barely keep up with his rapidly moving suit as it shook hands and gave bone-crushing hugs. The smell of the crowd was completely different from any he had ever worked. It was not just the lack of baths. There was a stink of fear to them that was palpable along with the effect of not having latrines. Unless they got this camp under better control disease would begin breaking out. The thought of cholera and typhus in modern America was mind-boggling. Especially on the steps of a hospital.
«We're doing all we can,» he said, nodding at another problem. He stopped at the sight of a mother with a sleeping child in her arms. The little boy had a large gash on the side of his head, only partially healed.
«Ma'am,» said the chief executive carefully. The woman had her eyes closed, rocking back and forth. «Your son's hurt.» There was no response as the woman continued rocking and the President looked over his shoulder. He didn't know what any of the suits were but surely the company had medical supplies. «Captain Hadcraft,» he snapped as the Detail finally caught up with him through the press of the crowd.
«Sir.»
«Do we have a medic?»
«You mean a corpsman, sir? No, they're not on our roster.»
«Any medical equipment?»
«Just the suits, sir.»
«Get in here,» he finished, stepping towards the woman. «Ma'am?»
«Sir,» cautioned Agent Rohrbach with a hand out to stop the executive as he stepped forward. The massive man reached out gently and touched the woman's arm.
The woman's eyes flew open and she hissed at the agent. «He's dead!» she spat. «Dead! Leave me alone! He's dead! Dead!»
The President and the agent both stepped back as the woman started to cry. «AID?» the President queried, «can you . . .»
«The child is not dead, sir,» the device stated definitely. «His vital signs are not even bad. He does, however, appear to have some cranial damage.» The sensors of the suits were better than an MRI at that range. «He is probably unconscious and in a coma. But not dead.»
The crowd was pushing forward again to get a look at what was going on, and the reporters were forcing their way to the fore as Captain Hadcraft arrived. He didn't even ask a question, just stepped forward with an injector and caught both falling bodies. The mother was handed off to one of the Detail as he cradled the child to his chest and headed back to the tracks.
«Captain?» the President started to ask. The action had been so fast and smooth there had been no time for reaction and the suit was halfway back already.
«I'll take him to the VA hospital, sir. You get the situation stable.»
The Commander in Chief shook his head and smiled. Having good subordinates was a treasure. The crowd was still pushing forward but there was enough room for a conversation. It would have been better to be up on something to be able to see more people and be seen but this appeared to be as good as it got.
He looked around and caught the eye of one woman who looked composed. «What do you need? Tents? They're here and more are coming. What else?» His stare was like a laser, daring her not to answer.