Grey demands REAL-TIME
NEW YORK NODE. The presidential campaign reached a fevered pitch today as Rabbi-Senator Chaim Grey demanded a real-time debate with his opponent Reverend-Senator Etienne Letourneau (New Right).
"If the public is as willing to elect Letourneau as the polls show," Grey said during a regularly scheduled virtual debate at the New York node, "then they should demand to see how he reacts in real time. Though it is true that Letourneau could perform most of his presidential duties via the LINK, it is equally true that he might be called upon to act as an ambassador to a country that has no LINK access, or that an emergency situation could arise where LINK access is damaged to a certain section of the population. If Letourneau is the man you want, then call him down from the mountain to face me."
In a bold move, Grey, who had previously been unwilling to sling mud, continued to hammer Letourneau 's reputation by saying, "Look at his track record. Letourneau has never shown up at a single session of Congress in real time."
Letourneau responded by reminding the Rabbi-Senator that thanks to the progressive and populist Gates Act from the turn of the century the question of residence was determined both by real-time address and electronic. Letourneau assured the gathered crowd that he qualified as both a resident of Colorado and of Washington DC.
He finished his remarks by saying, "Rabbi-Senator Grey continues to show what a Luddite he is. He doesn't stand for LINK progress. He stands for a regression into a Stone Age era."
However, in opinion polls taken after the debate, Letourneau dropped in popularity by twenty percent. Grey and Letourneau are now almost evenly matched. (Hot-link here for exact numbers and methodology.) The pressure on Letourneau for a real-time debate has escalated rather than diminished.
Shelia Brown, a longtime supporter of Letourneau, logged on to the post-debate to say, "I just want to see if Etienne is really as handsome as his avatar." Brown's post touched off a flurry of spam, all of it echoing similar thoughts. The responses ranged from strong Grey supporters to the most rabid New Righters. One respondent, who asked to remain anonymous, asked, "What if Letourneau looks nothing like his avatar? It's, like, totally possible he's a woof-woof, you know?"
Many Grey supporters raised the question of honesty. Joss Feinstein said: "All this resistance to a realtime debate makes me wonder what Letourneau has to hide."
So far, there has been no response from Letourneau's office.
Chapter 19
Mouse's black eyes bored into me. I found myself shaking my head. "No, I don't think so."
The shadow of a smile on Mouse's face held no warmth.
"No, really," he said. A shaft of dusty sunlight illuminated the access booth, and Mouse's smile transformed into something light and feathery. I was almost seduced.
"I think we should," Mouse continued. "It'd be fun. I'm in New York, as it turns out. I'd love to see where you live. Sounds like there's a party going on." He craned his neck, trying to see around the edges of the view screen. "Celebrating Daniel's return?"
"Something like that," I muttered. I'd have to get rid of the wristwatch phone. If Mouse knew enough about old tech to hot-wire a public access terminal, he'd be able to trace the satellite signal. The Malachim had just relocated, and, besides, I'd already brought enough hardship down on Rebeckah. This one I'd do alone. "I'm reconsidering, Mouse. Let's meet. My office is in Manhattan, Lower East Side. Give me a couple of hours. I want to say good-bye to Daniel."
"Okay," Mouse said with a frown pulling at his brow. "How about noon?"
High noon? Noon seemed far too much like a showdown at the OK Corral.
"No," I said, giving in to my superstitious instincts. "I need more time than that. How about one?"
"I guess I can waste time in the city. I've got some friends to check in with. Hey, then," he said, continuing the pretense of pleasantness, "I'm looking forward to it, girlfriend. It's been a long time."
"It has." Genuine feeling crept into my voice. Though he was never exactly a friend, I was fond of Mouse. Now, I wondered how long he had played me, and how much of the game he was into. "See you."
"Ciao," Mouse said, disconnecting the line.
When I turned back to the table, Michael was watching me suspiciously. I squeezed in between him and Raphael. Michael handed me my plate of food.
Raphael saluted me with a glass of milk. "As you prophesied, we meet again."
"I told you I was in the center of things," I said, stuffing potatoes into my mouth. "Where do you people get this great food?"
"We have a strong and supportive Diaspora."
"So it's not manna from heaven?" I said around another mouthful.
Raphael breathed out a short laugh. "We should get rid of her, Captain." Over my head, he said to Michael, "She knows too much, and she's far too cheeky."
"I happen to like it." Michael smiled, but imitated Raphael's clipped, military tone.
"You would," Raphael grunted. "As I recall, you were fond of Morningstar."
"Were? I still am." Poking my elbow, Michael asked, "Deidre, who called?"
"Mouse." I tried to sound casual. "He's in New York."
"Mouse? The Mouse?" Michael asked. "What did he want?"
"Nothing much." I shrugged. I wanted to do the Mouse meeting on my own, so I said, "He can't find his page and he wanted to know if I'd seen him."
"Uh-huh." Michael sounded unconvinced. "When we parted ways, you said you were going off to think. I take it you did more than that?"
"Tons." I gnawed on a carrot stick. "I'm not sure I believe you have no idea what's been going on here, Michael. I mean, don't you two have some kind of angelic network to keep up on each other's activities?"
Michael blushed.
I set the carrot down half-eaten. "Don't you?"
Eyes downcast, he whispered into his chest. "Deidre."
There was accusation in his tone; I'd said something wrong. I shook my head in confusion.
Michael's jaw flexed. His eyes snaked over to Raphael, then back to his plate of untouched food. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I told you I haven't been back."
Raphael cleared his throat noisily. "If you need a report, Captain?"
"That won't be necessary." Brisk, Michael's real command voice reminded me of Rebeckah.
"Sir?"
"If you'd excuse us, Raphael."
"Yes, sir." Raphael took his plate and stood up. I watched openmouthed as he did as Michael directed.
After Raphael found another table to join, I said, "I don't get it. What on earth was all that about?"
" 'What on earth'? No, not about earth." Michael grimaced at his cup of coffee. I had yet to see him actually ingest any food. Snapping his head to the side to look at me, his eyes flashed with anger. "I thought I explained things to you, Deidre. Now Raphael knows."
"Knows what?" Facing him, I scooted my chair into the space Raphael had vacated. "That you haven't been back? What difference does that make?"
"I have never once strayed a single iota from the directives God assigned me. Since Morningstar left us, I have been Their right hand, the arrow most likely to hit the mark." His words pounded me almost physically. "I spent the last twenty-four hours doing nothing – a delicious, precious nothing, but a nothing all the same."
"But, I mean, doesn't God already know that, Michael?" During the barrage of Michael's words, I'd backed the chair up until the legs tangled with Raphael's empty one. I couldn't retreat anymore, so I added: "Isn't He all-knowing? It's not like you can lie to Him, is it?"