“—here at the International Plaza, we’d like to get the reaction from some of the students here, pardon me?”
The young man turned around and revealed a diamond-shaped scar on his cheek, a member of the Spoog gang. “I ain’t no student fugoff,” he mumbled in passing.
Great assignment. “Young man, could you give me your reaction to the tragedy in Washington?”
He was small and frail and red-eyed. “I really don’t know anything. Was he crazy? He must have been crazy?”
“Some people have said he never got over his experience in the Gulf,” Daniel prompted.
“I had an uncle there, and an aunt, and there’s nothing wrong with them,” he said, looking intently at the ground, and wandered away.
A pretty young woman approached, tailored suit, smile. “Pardon me, ma’am, could you—”
“No! Leave me alone!” She whacked him hard on the shoulder with her heavy purse, aiming for his head.
Like a message from the gods, a little voice in his ear said, “Switching to network in five.”