“I do,” says Abelman, pulling out his tape. “If you’ll slip this into a playback machine for me.”

The Attorney General presses a button atop his desk. A tape playback unit glides up from out of a recessed panel in his desk top. Concurrently, a screen slides down a far wall. He takes the tape, and drops it into the machine. He presses a button, the lights dim and the tape clicks into place.

“This tape was recorded in the IBC control room during last Sunday’s Prospectors-Minutemen game,” explains Abelman in an undertone. “Pay particular attention to the voice you hear on it. The voice of an IBC employee.”

On the screen, T.K. Mann huddles his teammates around him. He nods his head several times, they all give what appears to be a token cry of mutual encouragement, and break for the line.

Immediately, Abelman, who has watched the tape countless times, knows something is wrong. The programming adjuster’s voice, which comes in during the huddle, is absent on this run-through. Abelman attributes it to some problem with the playback unit’s sound circuitry. He addresses the Attorney General. “Clay, would you check the sound…?”

A voice on the tape interrupts him. “Camera number two,” it says. “Pull back. They’re running a short screen pass to center this play. I want you to cover Mann. Camera eight, follow the center. Camera twelve, pick up the receiver if it goes to somebody else. Camera six, give me a tight close-up of Matision.” The scene cuts to a shot of Harv Matision, nodding twice.

On screen, T.K. takes the snap and fades back to pass. The play is completed, and Eddie Hougart dies, without any further audio commentary.

The Attorney General flicks on the lights. “Cy,” he says, his anger seething through his carefully groomed veneer, “if this is your idea of a joke…”

“That’s not my tape,” says Abelman, absolutely stunned.

“It’s the tape you gave me.”

“I don’t understand. It’s been switched, but that’s impossible. That tape hasn’t been out of my sight since I got it.” Suddenly he stares at the Attorney General, for the first time realizing the horrible extent of the conspiracy facing him. “Unless it was switched here, in this office, after I gave it to you.”

Understandably, the Attorney General erupts. “Cy, I deal in facts, not deluded ramblings.” Deluded ramblings. That had a nice ring. It would sound suitably impressive and, at the same time, demeaning on the six o’clock news. “I’ll thank you to get out of my office. I have serious business to conduct.”

The newsmen are ecstatic. This is a story beyond their wildest dreams. A good portion of them are already dashing for the outer office to share their reports with their colleagues.

Shocked and disillusioned, Senator Abelman shambles toward the door.