Ed spent the day in his bedroom, drinking beer and watching on television the scenes of violence that his own words had helped to unleash. He didn’t yet know what to feel about what he saw. Should he feel angry? Sad? Indifferent? Was it really his fault that all this disaster had happened? Or would it have happened anyway?

He crumpled an empty Coors can in his hand and tossed it into the waste-basket. He wanted very badly to talk to Season right now, and not just to make sure that she and Sally were all right.

He needed more than a friend or a lover right now. He needed his wife.

Four

Peter Kaiser came into his room shortly after eight that evening, and stood watching the television, his hands stuck deep in his pockets. He looked waxy, and sweaty, and there were dark rings under his eyes; but he had an air of satisfied tiredness, as if he had pulled off something really difficult.

‘Well?’ he asked Ed. ‘What’s the latest?’

Ed was sitting on his bed, in a buff-coloured shirt, jeans, and bare feet. He eyed Peter without answering, as if the question wasn’t worth his time.

‘Now you know what it’s like to wield power,’ smiled Peter, sitting himself uninvited on the end of the bed. ‘A few words from you, and the whole country goes crazy. Makes you feel pretty good inside, doesn’t it? Pretty damned important.’

‘There’s only one reason those people went crazy,’ Ed told him, in a harsh voice. ‘They went crazy because they’re afraid.’

‘Well, isn’t that what national politics is all about?’ grinned Peter. ‘The calculated exploitation of fear? Don’t tell me anybody does anything at all out of brotherly love. Do you pay your taxes out of brotherly love? Do you anything at all out of brotherly love?’

‘Maybe not,’ said Ed, ‘but at least I don’t exploit the country’s misfortunes for the sake of a few million lousy dollars.’

‘It’s very easy to call a few million lousy when they aren’t yours, Mr Hardesty. Or may I call you Ed? You are a celebrity now, after all.’

‘I don’t particularly care about that,’ said Ed. ‘I’d like to telephone my wife.’

‘Haven’t you tried already?’

‘All day. But the operator keeps telling me the lines are busy.’

Peter pulled a consoling face. ‘Well, that’s true, they are. But you can try again in the morning. Maybe Shearson will begin to cool off a little by then. He’s pretty mad at you right now.’

‘Isn’t he going back to Washington?’

‘In a while. We have a few unexpected problems to clear up before we go. You know, tidying up the Blight Crisis Appeal, things like that.’