"Yes," she said, looking up at him again, grateful that he had said it, her hand squeezing his gently. "I know. I understand."
"Yes . . ." He wiped a tear away, then stood, pulling her up, holding her a moment. "But here we are, neh? We came through."
Her dark eyes stared back at him, momentarily intense, looking through the surface of him, it seemed, into the raw darkness beyond. "We did, didn't we?" she said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder. He felt the shudder that ran through her, the warmth of her lips as they gently brushed his neck.
She moved back, away from him, offering him a small, apologetic smile. "What are you doing tonight?"
"Tonight?" He shrugged. "My shift ends at eight, but after that, nothing. Why?"
Her smile broadened. "We're having a party, that's why. Election night, and all that. Why don't you come? It won't start until ten. You could pick me up then if you like. It should be fun."
He stared at her a moment, thinking once more how different she was, how assured this older Rebecca was, then nodded, smiling back at her.
"Why not?"
ALL day, right across City America, people had been voting to send Representatives to the newly reopened House. Almost a tenth of the seats were up for grabs in this round and there were already signs that the old status quo was about to be shaken. In Miami central stack a huge MedFac multiboard filled one end of the crowded, buzzing Main. Below it, more than twenty thousand people were packed in, staring up at the eighteen large screens. The scenes on most differed little from that in Miami. Large crowds jostled noisily beneath a thick mass of banners, and, from time to time, a huge cheer would go up as another local stack declared.
Over each screen was the name of the Hsien being contested, and at the bottom, superimposed on the screen, was a list of candidates and the number of votes polled for each. As the evening drew on these figures built up, and as they did the excitement in the crowd increased accordingly. Change was in the air.
Two central screens showed something different. On the left was a map of City North America, its distinctive, lopsided face divided up into the four hundred and seventy-six Representative districts, colored by party. To its right was a pie chart showing the relative strengths of the seven parties that currently dominated North American politics. Largest of these by far was the Reformers, who held eighty-seven seats. But all eyes were on Kennedy's New Republicans, who had begun the contest without a single seat in the old House and had won thirty in the first round of voting.
The campaign had been harder and, in some ways, dirtier than anyone could remember. Early on, Kennedy had declared that he would not put up candidates for the three seats held by Evolutionist incumbents. It was an unexpected but greatly popular move. Though the Evolutionists were a long-established party, they were a steadily diminishing power, and the New Republicans could have won the seats. Within a week, however, Evolutionist candidates for nine of the remaining contestable seats had withdrawn and urged their supporters to vote for New Republican candidates.
The Reformers had hit back hard. Questioning the reliability of the "new alliance," they had launched a campaign to discredit Joel Hay, the Evolutionist leader, using material they'd been holding for some time. It was vile stuff that struck at Hay's most intimate behavior. Even so, for a day or two Hay fought back. Then, realizing the damage he was doing to his party, he announced his resignation.
There was jubilation in the Reformer camp, but, only a day later, their smiles turned to frowns as Kennedy, who had maintained a strict silence on the matter, now stepped forward to announce a formal merger of the two parties under his own leadership. The press conference, with New Republican and Evolutionist candidates lined up behind Kennedy as he made his speech, went out worldwide. Overnight, without the need for an election, the New Republicans had become City America's third largest power, with forty-two seats.
It had not ended there. The next day the campaign against Carl Fisher had begun in earnest with the appearance on a nationwide network of two of Fisher's school friends, accusing him of homosexuality and a whole string of other perversions. Fisher, shaken and angry, had reacted with an unexpected bluntness that had done him no harm.
"Let them say it again to me, face to face, and I'll bust their jaws!"
Overnight it became his campaign slogan. Carl "Jaw-Buster" Fisher went up five points in the polls, while Carver, the Reformer incumbent, found himself the butt of a thousand cartoons, all depicting him rubbing at a loosened jaw. Few, looking at the athletically built and handsome Fisher, paid attention to the accusations. He was pictured everywhere, surrounded by good-looking women, punching a bag, knocking back a glass of beer after exercise. Carver, older, flabbier, showed poorly by comparison.
Reformer claims of inexperience and political naivete carried little weight, it seemed. Change was in the air, and the young men of the New Republican and Evolutionist Party, the NREP, were an attractive alternative to the old style Representative people had grown accustomed to. But it wasn't only image. Kennedy picked his candidates well. These new young men were the very cream of the emergent ruling caste; the sons of powerful men and bred to power themselves. They were well educated and quick in argument. And backing them up was an elite of political researchers and writers attracted by the promise of power. Reformer money couldn't buy such backing, try as it did.
As the night drew toward its climax, it grew clear that a minor political sensation was happening. With five seats still to be settled, the Reformer vote was in tatters. The NREP had gained nineteen districts. They needed only three of the four remaining Reformer-held seats to become the second biggest party in North America, passing the On Leong and the Democrats. In Carl Fisher's campaign suite, the Party leaders gathered, watching the EduVoc channel, excitement like wine in their blood. At the center of this small, select group, Michael Lever leaned forward in his wheelchair and pointed at the screen.
"Who's he?"
To the left of the picture, behind Greg Stewart, their candidate for Denver Hsien, stood a gaunt-faced, steely-eyed young man, some inches taller than Stewart. He was shaven-headed and had the look of a paid assassin.
Kennedy bent down beside Michael, speaking softly to him. "That's a guy named Horton. Calls himself Meltdown."
Michael narrowed his eyes, then nodded. Now that Kennedy had given him a name, he recognized him. "He was incarcerated, right? I never met him but I heard about it. He was on a hunger strike, wasn't he?"
Kennedy nodded. "That's right. His father is a friend of your father."
"And he's working for us now?"
"We've come to an agreement, let's say. They'll be working closely with us from now on."
Michael frowned. He wasn't sure about this. When Wu Shih had rounded them all up—that evening of the Thanksgiving Ball—they had all been outraged, but he saw now how dangerous the "Sons" had been. He had wanted change, but not by such means as some of them had subsequently proposed. Their tactics were the same as thpse that had killed Bryn. And he wanted no more of that.
"Are you sure we want this?" he asked quietly.
Kennedy smiled. "I'm sure, Michael. And listen, I know what I'm doing. We're in charge, not them. They need us, so they play by our rules."
"And if they don't?"
"They will. Don't worry."
Kennedy straightened up. On the screen there was news from two of the last five seats to declare. They had won Mexico City. Vancouver had stayed On Leong.
Parker, standing behind Michael, laughed. "So not a rout, then!"