While people were distracted, a Solara employee had hung the famous Great Seal of the President of the United States on the front of the lectern at the leading edge of the rostrum.

Penn Glendale settled his shoulders and straightened his tie. This was a recording to be made for prosperity. His remarks would be brief and largely nonsubstantive, by necessity. He would assure the world that the government of the United States was still present, still strong. These were terrible times, but they would soon pass, and soon we, as a nation, would begin the process of healing.

If he nailed the tone just right, his words could provide inspiration to millions.

Finally at the well of the House floor, he took his place behind the lectern. Randy Banks rose from his seat and announced, “Members of Congress, I have the high privilege and distinct honor of presenting to you the president of the United States.”

The assembled members of the House and Senate rose to their feet again for the pro forma applause.

Angela Fortnight shouted above the applause, silencing it. “Mr. Speaker, this man is not the president of the United States. He is at the rostrum under false pretenses. I and my party do not recognize him as such.”

With that, she and her caucus rose from their seats and marched out of the chamber.

* * *

“Who in the living hell do you think you are?” Exxon Man asked. The stitching on his shirt read, George. “You got no business—”

“I am not going to let you murder these two boys in my presence, George,” Victoria said. “I don’t care what they did. This—this right here—is not justice. And unless the courthouse dress code has changed, you are not a judge.” She swept a finger in an arc around the others. “And this is no jury.”

Victoria watched the crowd that was watching her. The passion of the moment seemed to have passed. Maybe there wouldn’t be a gunfight after all. “Caleb? Luke?” she said.

“Yeah?” They said it in unison.

“Check those boys on the ground. Tell me if they’re badly hurt.”

“We’re fine,” said one of the Fosters.

“This is a time for you to be silent, young man,” Victoria said.

“Ma’am?” This from a young lady with brilliant green eyes. She wore a gray business suit and looked entirely out of place. “Who are you? You don’t live here, do you? But you look familiar to me.”

“I’m from Pocahontas County,” Victoria said. “I’m Victoria Emerson. These are my sons, and the other gentlemen are my friends.”

“Are you the Congress lady?” asked a man dressed entirely in denim. “I’ve seen you on television, right?”

“I’m the representative for the Third Congressional District here in West Virginia. And, yes, I’ve done a few of the Sunday shows.” She felt herself blushing.