“What happened to freedom of the press?”

“The material’s classified. Did you know that?”

“That’s crazy. How much of the broadcast went out?”

“About eighteen minutes.”

Four people came out of an elevator into the lobby. One, a short, stocky guy, looked stressed. The other three, two men and a woman, strode toward the front doors, leaving him in their wake. Then one of them noticed Hutch. They all turned in her direction and approached. “Pardon me, ma’am,” said the woman, “but aren’t you Priscilla Hutchins?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Incredible.” She walked away.

•  •  •

Crispee arrived, looking pale and angry. “Jack,” she said, “you want to do an interview about this?”

“I’d love to, Priscilla. But there’s no way Branton would allow it.”

“Come on, Jack. This is First Amendment territory.”

“I know. But they’ve made some serious threats. I think he figures we’ve already broken the story.”

Jack Crispee’s Diary

Of all the idiot stuff I’ve been part of, this beats everything. It was an act of pure cowardice I’ll always regret. We’ve just given the story of the century to everybody else.

—Friday, October 10, 2256

43.

The liberty of the press consists, in my idea, in publishing the truth, from good motives and for justifiable ends, though it reflect on the government, on magistrates, or individuals.

—Alexander Hamilton, New York speech, 1804

Ornsbee’s was her mom’s favorite restaurant, a friendly place with a good menu. They got a table that provided a good view of the Phillies–Red Sox game. It was the World Series, game five, tied at two apiece. Mom was still somewhat rattled from the visit by the Feds. “I’ve never had any kind of experience like that,” she said. But she tried to show her daughter that she wasn’t worried about fallout from her role in relaying her transmission to Cosmic Broadcasting. But there was a tightness in her smile and her voice.

“I’m sorry about getting you into all this, Mom,” Hutch said. “But we needed to make sure the interview got released, and you were the most reliable person I had. There was just too much at stake—”

“I understand that, Priscilla. Please don’t worry about it. In fact, I’m proud you included me in this.” Mom leaned forward and looked into Hutch’s eyes. “How are you, love?” she asked. “Are they going to prosecute you?”

Hutch managed a smile. “I’ll let you know. But I don’t think so.”

“I was sorry to see what happened to the broadcast. That it got interrupted.”

“So was I.”

“I guess you know it’s all over the news.”

She had been listening to reports during her ride up from DC. “They’re getting a lot of criticism. The government.”