Lauren received a tap within seconds of the interview. She entered Sal’s Seaside Café and walked to Hutch’s customary table by the railing.

“So what do you think?”

She pulled out a chair and sat. “About the interview?”

Hutch nodded.

“I think she could go to jail,” she answered.

“Why?”

“She violated the Tolerance Act.”

“How so?”

“In her interview she was overtly critical of others’ religious beliefs.”

“So?”

“The Supreme Court has explicitly ruled that to be a violation of the Tolerance Act. United States v. Gadney, 2039.”

Hutch smiled. “Okay. Just seeing if we’re on the same page. We are. So what do we do about it?”

“We tell her that either she leaves the country or the attorney general will begin prosecution.”

“We’d have to contact him beforehand to verify. I’m not sure he would actually pursue it.”

“But this was Global Sunrise, Hutch. Millions saw it. It’s not like the AG can look the other way.”

“No. But it does the president no good politically to be seen as picking on helpless newcomers.”

“Even if they’re religious fanatics? I think that could benefit him.”

Hutch paused to think. “Maybe. Hard to say. I think if we press it with the AG, he’ll be happy to simply have her leave. That solves our problem. She disappears, and no one remembers the Global Sunrise interview. Her presence here is just a blip on the screen—old news. In a month no one will care.” He leaned forward. “Let me ask you this, though. Are you sure she’ll leave?”

Lauren nodded. “In the face of prosecution? Absolutely. She doesn’t like it here, anyway. Let me assure you: Abby Caldwell will take any excuse to return to the jungle.”

“You have some taps.”

Abby lifted her face from the hotel room sink and wiped off her stage makeup. She didn’t feel like responding to taps. The interview had been a disaster, and she just wanted to hide. She walked out of the bathroom, sat resignedly on the bed, and looked at Sabin. “Who tapped?”

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize any of the Grid addresses. There are 338 of them, though.”

“Oh dear. That many people have contacted me? How do they know I’m here?”

“You mentioned it in your interview, Abby.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “I don’t really feel like talking to anyone, but I suppose it won’t hurt to play them.”

“Sure. Why not? Maybe some people are interested in what you had to say.” Sabin had been trying to encourage her since the interview finished.

He played the first tap. The image of a middle-aged man appeared, his demeanor combative. “You imbecile! What gives you the right to come to our country and dump your intolerant beliefs on us? Go back to your jungle where the neanderthals believe whatever you trained them to. We aren’t so gullible anymore, you cretin!”