Bibb, who had raced to the front of the room, was red faced. “We lose ten percent of our tune in for every five minutes the Breaking News banner isn’t up,” she snapped at a haggard producer who was in turn barking into a tiny microphone attached to a headset. Natalie noticed that even in a state of clear agitation, Bibb’s forehead maintained the smooth satin glow of Botox. “The earnings call is around the corner. We can’t afford this right now!” As Bibb barked, the producer twisted around to look up at her, making the headset cord look like a noose around his neck.

“What’s going on?” Natalie whispered to a young African American man, probably an associate producer, seated at a desk to her right.

“The Breaking News banner crashed.” He shrugged, laconically. “So they’re freaking out.”

Natalie’s eyes got big as she registered the full weight of the situation. “You mean we’re live on air without the words Breaking News on the screen?”

The producer met her gaze with a nod of mock horror. In a deadpan, he said, “Indeed. No news can be broken without a Breaking News banner.”

She swallowed back a laugh. It would have been funny if the mood among the terrorized producers didn’t give the impression that someone’s head was likely to roll. Clearly one of these people was going to pay for a computer bug taking out the network’s guaranteed ratings generator.

Natalie watched Bibb, the EP, and a tech guy huddled over a master computer trying to get the machine to summon the magic words. A flash of color drew Natalie’s attention back to the monitors. She watched the silent show as BamBam made a dramatic late entrance to the summit stage with Rigo by his side. Even with the sound on mute, the duo was entertaining and expressive. BamBam looked like he could have stepped out of Modern Dictator Catalog in his signature tight orange Nehru jacket and his purple-black hair fluffed out beneath a beret. The son, Rigo, appeared fresh from a shoot for a hip-hop yachting line, wearing an ascot and a navy double-breasted blazer festooned with gold braid. Looking more closely, Natalie saw that the blazer bore the insignia of the Colombia Navy in which, according to his epaulettes, Rigo held the position of admiral. Not bad for a twenty-one-year-old who had surely never worked a day at sea, or anywhere for that matter. Natalie realized she didn’t even know whether Colombia had a navy.

BamBam had a gregarious smile and a jovial bounce that made him seem charming when he refused leaders’ outstretched hands and instead leaned in for a full embrace with the presidents or foreign ministers of Mexico, Peru, and Brazil. Natalie glanced over at Bibb who was now on headset berating another poor soul about the Breaking News banner fail.