He went back out into the heat and whistled for the camera to follow him. Lots of local color out here by the mercado, but nobody wants to stand in the sun and chat. He moved over to the shade of a pair of trees just past the coffee booth.
People walked by him. It must have been easier in the old days, when you had a big square camera and a human cameraman, a microphone in your hand and wires trailing everywhere. A pain in the ass, actually, but at least people would have to notice you.
“Excuse me, sir.” He stepped in the path of a slow-moving, round middle-aged man. “I’m Daniel Jordan from News Seven.…”
“Good for you,” he said, but stopped.
“I came down to the mercado to ask people’s opinions about the Coming.”
“That’s what they’re calling it?”
“Some people, yes …”
“Well, I don’t like it. Sounds religious.”
“Whatever the name. How do you feel about it?”
“Feel? I suppose it’s a good thing. Make contact and all that. Been talking about it long enough.”
“You don’t feel there’s any danger?”
“No, no. We were talking about that at the shop. Small’s Jalousies and Windows? Government’s gonna try to scare us, spend tax money protecting us from these goddamn things. But it’s bullshit. You know? If they wanted to get us, they would’ve snuck up on us, right? A burglar doesn’t ring the bell on his way in, does he? I think it’ll be real interesting.”
“Thank you, Mister …”
“Small, Ed Small. Small’s Jalousies and Windows.” He leaned toward the camera and waved. “‘When you think of windows, think Small.’“
A few people had stopped to watch the interview. Dan zeroed in on a woman with her son, eight or nine years old.
“What do you think about all this, young man?”
“About the monsters?”
“Le … roy,” his mother warned.
“You think they’ll be monsters?” Dan asked.
“They’re always monsters,” he explained patiently.
“He watches too much cube.” His mother glared at the camera.
“Mother. They’re always monsters because that’s what people want. The guys who made this up know that.”
The mother stared at her son. Dan cleared his throat. “So you think it’s all made up?”
“Well, it’s on the cube,” the boy said, explaining everything.
Dan laughed unconvincingly. “Do you share your son’s skepticism?”
“Not really, no. I’m hoping it will be something … really wonderful. What the man you just talked to said, that’s true. If they meant us harm they wouldn’t have announced they were coming.”
“You don’t think it could be a hoax?”
“No—it’s already too big.”
“Well, I think it’s a hoax,” the man behind her said. He was ebony black, shimmering skintights like rainbow paint on a weightlifter’s body. “They had it orchestrated months in advance, maybe years.”
“Who are ‘they,’ then?”
“Well, who do you think has the money? If it’s not the federal government then it’s a group of conglomerates working together—assuming the last act of the farce will be a spaceship landing on the White House lawn.”
A live one, Dan thought. He made the hand signal that instructed the camera to move in tight. “And what will the government or conglomerates gain?”
“More and better control over us. Thought control!” He held up both fists. “Watch and wait. These aliens will be presented to us as unassailably superior savants. What they say is true, we will have to accept as truth. Who could argue with creatures who came umpty-ump light-years to save us?”
“You have it pretty well thought out,” Dan said.
“I used to be paid to think,” he said. “Dr. Cameron Davisson, at your service. Ex–professor of philosophy at this august institution.”
“Um … what do you do now, Dr. Davisson?”
“I try to serve as a bad example.”
“Ah …” Out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw a vision of loveliness. “Ma’am? Pardon me, senorita?”
The woman stopped and looked at him. She was a classic Latin beauty—statuesque; haughty, aristocratic features. Ebony hair and skin like dark honey set off by a simple white dress that loved the flesh it clung to and partially exposed.
“I’m interviewing people here about the Coming.”
“The aliens? I think it’s marvelous. Have to get to work.” She turned and walked away and even the camera stared at her. I wouldn’t mind going to work with you, Dan thought, but he didn’t know half of it.