"Curious little drama we witnessed," remarked Tachyon. "Yes. "

He leaned back, looking up at her. "And you don't like the senator. Why?"

"Because I suspect he has an interest in the companies backing that multi-million-dollar boondoggle he was discussing with such relish."

"It sounded like it would help the people in Zaire."

"Hardly. It's been designed so no power can be siphoned off to provide services to the people living along its 1,100-mile line. It's basically a billion-dollar project to give money to that thug Mobutu, and to line the pockets of various large international corporations, and to make vast amounts of money in the form of interest for a number of large Western banks. It does fuck-all for the people of Zaire who will continue to live at a subsistence level despite one of the greatest repositories of mineral wealth on the continent."

"Roulette, you're wonderful."

She spun to face him. "If you're about to tell me how beautiful I am when I'm in a passion I'll slug you off this stand!"

He held up his hands. "No, no, I do admire the passion, and you are very beautiful, but you care, you're so interested… you remind me of another woman." The rather tangled sentence trailed away, and he seemed to be looking at some picture that had nothing to do with the holiday crowds that stretched away before them.

Roulette, staring idly out, suddenly gasped as the shadow of a pterodactyl rippled over the people. She glanced up, and sure enough, a pterodactyl was winging its way toward them.

Tachyon, alerted by her indrawn breath, sighed, and made shooing motions with his hands. The prehistoric creature came on, the alien grabbed her about the waist, and pulled her back beneath the awning just as several small pterodactyl turds pattered onto the stand.

"Kid," Tachyon shouted. "Next time I catch you I'm going to beat you."

Koch was beckoning, so they returned to their chairs. Ten minutes later a cute-faced kid with several inexpertly covered pimples on his chin, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, wiggled through the front row of the crowd, and waved impudently up at the Takisian.

"Hey, Tachy, here I am."

"Well, at least you're dressed."

"I thought ahead. Left my clothes in the plane." A hand shot out indicating the tomb. "Thought you were going to beat me."

"I may yet."

"Bet you can't."

Koch was tapping the mike with a forefinger, sending booming, thrumming pops echoing across the square. Roulette, glancing between boy and alien, saw the human's eyes widen in alarm. Tachyon, with a guilty glance to Koch, darted to the edge of the stand. The Kid turned, bent, and obligingly presented his posterior to the doctor, who gave him a quick but gentle kick in the seat.

"Kid, stay out of trouble."

"No fair. Disgusting Alien Powers Used to Abuse Little Kid," he said in a tone indicative of a headline from the National Informer.

"Juvenile Delinquent Uses Ace Powers to Aggravate City."

"Aggravate? Can't I at least terrorize?"

"Maybe when you're older." Koch was glaring at the pair. "Now shoo. I have to be dignified now."

"Good luck." And with a flip of the hand he vanished back into the crowd.

"Who is he?"

"Kid Dinosaur. He's very bright, but unfortunately at that awkward age between boy and man which means he's something of a monster. He drives the aces mad for he's always underfoot. It must be very trying to his parents to be raising an ace, but children are such a delight."

"Hey, you're on," Roulette said, interrupting the babble. "Oh, by the Ideal, thank you." Leaning in close he said with a wink, "And then we can leave."

She thought he presented a rather comic figure. Tiny little man, head just topping the podium, red satin suit, and long red hair like a punk Lord Fauntleroy. She noticed that he had no notes, and wondered if an extemporaneous speech was quite wise. Then he lifted his head, and began, and comedy was replaced by dignity, and a wealth of caring.

"I always find it a little difficult to think what to sav on this day. Are we celebrating, and if so what? Or are we honoring and remembering? And if so who do we honor, and what do we remember as a guard against future mistakes? You will hear a great deal today about Jetboy, and the Turtle, and Cyclone, and a hundred other aces," He waved at the great green shell where it hovered over the crowd. "And yes, even about me. But I don't think that's fair, and I'm going to talk about other people. About Shiner, who gave a home to an abandoned child, and Jubel, who can always spare a dime for some other joker down on his luck, and Des, who's done more to get parks built and schools improved in Jokertown than any other person."

"I speak about the jokers because I think they can offer a lesson and an example to other people. Their sufferings, mental, physical, and emotional, match anything experienced in human history, and they've tried a number of methods to cope with their isolation ranging from quiet fortitude as they were abused by police, and other public officials, to violence culminating in the events of 1976, and now a new approach. A sense of self-reliance, and sharing that has allowed them to build, within the confines of our so-called Jokertown, a true community."

"I point out the various accomplishments of these remarkable people because there is a new mood in this country which I find fearsome. There is once again an attempt to delineate what is American,' to despise and discriminate against those who exist on the periphery of this fairy-tale 'majority.' And it is a fairy tale. Each person is an utterly unique individual. There is no 'consensus of opinion,' no 'right way' to do things. There are only people who, no matter how hideous and twisted on the outside, are internally driven by the same hopes and dreams and aspirations that drive all of us."

"I suppose what I really want to say on this Wild Card Day, 1986 is 'Be kind.' For adversity comes from many sources, not just from alien virus brought across light-years, and there may come a time when all of us, 'nats,' 'aces, and jokers alike, will need that kind word, that offer of help, that sense of community that the jokers so wonderfully represent. Thank you."

The applause was thunderous, but Tachyon looked unhappy as he walked back to her.

"Very noble, but how do you think it will play?" Roulette asked as he scooped his hat off the chair.

Her arm was once more pulled through his, and' he urged her toward the back stairs. "Some people will compare me to Mother Theresa, and others will say I am a self-serving son of a bitch."

"And you, what do you say?"

"That i'm neither. Just a man trying to live with honor, and to embrace whatever happiness is given me." They were standing by the limo, and Tachyon suddenly wrapped his arms about her waist, and buried his face in her bosom. "And I'm glad you are here to be embraced."

Furiously she cast him off, and backed away until brought up short by the back of the car. "Don't look to me for comfort. I have none for anybody. I told you that already. And what do you need it for, anyway? You're the saint of Jokertown. The big shot with a private limo, as much a star as any of the aces."

"Yes, yes, and yes! But I am also consumed with guilt, devoured by a failure that gathers every year on September fifteenth to haunt me! God, how I hate this day." His fists slammed onto the top of the car, and Riggs drifted away to stare in fascination at the cuff of his uniform coat. Tachyon's shoulders shook for several seconds, then he dashed a hand across his eyes, and turned back to face her. "All right, you have no comfort for me. I accept that. You said you were on a pilgrimage of despair. So am I. So let us at least journey together, and if we can't comfort we can at least share."

"Fine." She climbed into the car, and rested her head against the window.