I passed through a holographic advertisement for today's upcoming presidential debate. In a blur, Letourneau's face slid through the passenger side of the car. With a fizzle, the image became a snow shower. Ahead, I could see lights flicking off. Control was shutting down power to this area. Scanning desperately for an escape route, I saw nothing. The cop was close enough on my tail that I could no longer see the headlights in the rear-view. So, I did the only thing I could do: I slammed down hard on the brakes.
Link update, August 30, 2076. This site is now updated every 30 seconds as news reaches us! Political history and commentary by H.C. Yoeh:
LETOURNEAU MAKES A SURPRISE REVERSAL
In a reversal of his previous stance against a realtime debate, presidential candidate Etienne Letourneau agreed to meet with his opponent Rabbi-Senator Grey and the public at Carnegie Hall at 7:00 EST today. This debate will also be simulcast on all the LINK political channels. However, the public is clamoring to witness this event firsthand. Carnegie Hall staff say they are already filled to capacity, having issued the final standing room only pass a mere twenty-three minutes after Letourneau issued his statement.
"It's unreal," said the Carnegie Hall box office manager, Rita Morose. "There hasn't been this much interest in live performance since the Taft-Henderson debacle." The event that Morose refers to was the Democratic Convention held in 2064, in which a fist-fight broke out between then presidential hopeful Sister Alice Jane Henderson and the Democratic nominee Representative Elias Taft. It has been much speculated the embarrassment that Taft faced after being knocked unconscious by a nun weighing less than one hundred pounds cost him the race. Returning to office, Taft (also of the infamous Taft-Pallis Act) began the "Right to Electronic Representation Reform," which, among other things, abolished the traditions of real-time campaigning and political conventions.
One of the reasons the Right to Electronic Representation Reform (RERR) met with such success when it was introduced was the belief, which had continued until today, that the American public was more interested in spectacle than political content. Taft's reform was based on studies dating back to the 1960s and the first televised debates in which it was shown that Americans tend to vote based on the "image" (physical attractiveness, poise, etc.) that a politician gives off at live and recorded events. Taft's reform intended to reduce campaigning to its purest form – text and content – in order to "purify" the political process. Though the complete absence of image was never approved, Congress did pass much of the RERR, as the reform was called.
Until today, few would have argued the soundness of the ideas behind RERR. It seems that the public has, in fact, been following with much interest the content of Rabbi-Senator Grey's recent accusations against Letourneau. Perhaps it's the personal nature of Letourneau's unstated political platform (ie: that he is the Second Coming of Christ) that has roused the concern in the American people that he is, in fact, an actual human being. The nature of his being has become the focus of this debate, and the average American is clamoring to see him, live. People have started to camp out along the streets in front of Carnegie Hall hoping to catch a glimpse of the Reverend-Senator as he passes on his way to the debate. We'll switch now to Bob, who is standing by ...
Chapter 23
The impact shattered the back window. Glass cut the back of my neck. My hands and head crashed into the steering wheel, while my knees banged against the dash. The air bag deployed, which cushioned my whole body, but I was thrown backward and pressed hard into the seat. When the jostling stopped, I held my breath. My neck hurt like a son of a bitch, but I was still alive. The padding of the Israeli armor likely saved my life.
Thinking of the armor reminded me of the page. Page? Are you okay?
Opening the car door, I fell out from under the airbag. I scrambled to my feet. I knew it wouldn't take long for the cop to do the same, if he was alive.
What are you doing out there? Your systems are going crazy. I'm sure you can see the warning light, but you're going to lose invisibility in a matter of seconds.
I could see the warning light the page talked about; the red letters filled the screen and threatened to blot out everything else. The only problem was if I switched off the armor, I'd have to remove the helmet. Without the systems operating properly, I'd be blind. Minus the helmet, my head would be a perfect target for some gung-ho cop.
I decided to take the chance and flipped the off. Even if I somehow managed to salvage the uniform's invisibility program, all the cops seemed aware that I had armored gear, anyway; no doubt any I encountered would be as prepared as the ones I had met earlier, I removed the helmet and took a deep breath.
Pulling myself upright, I leaned heavily on the hood of the car. The cop car's front-end was mashed. Windshield glass littered the tunnel, and its air bag had ballooned on impact as well. Wails from the siren filled the tunnel.
More police could not be far behind I knew, yet I hesitated. I hated myself for even thinking about leaving behind a cop who was injured and could be dying. I had to remind myself that it was me that caused the officer harm, and that I'd done it to buy myself time – all of which I was wasting, standing here feeling morally corrupt. My feet betrayed my brain and started moving closer to the driver's side window of the cop car.
I've got to get out of here, I told myself, but my step quickened as I moved up to the door. Inside, I could see the officer slumped back in the seat, pinned by the air bag. Blood smeared her forehead. I checked for a pulse at her throat. I found it – weak but steady, thank God. I knew better than to try to move her; her back could be broken. She'd been lucky, and so had I. At least vehicular manslaughter wouldn't be added to my long list of crimes.
Now what to do? There really wasn't anywhere to run. The traffic tunnels went on for kilometers. I only had two options if I decided to try to make it on foot: forward, or back the way I came. The cops would know that and close off both ends. Without a crowd to blend into or a working invisibility suit, I'd be an easy target to trace.
The wreckage of the car I'd stolen looked like a crumpled wad of paper. The bumper hung off the frame at an odd angle, and the lid of the trunk had popped open. Suddenly, an idea hit me.
Without opening the car door, I reached between the cop's legs and pulled the trunk release. Thankfully, despite the crash, the mechanism worked, and the trunk opened with a pop.
I quickly made my way around to the rear end of the vehicle and crawled inside. Pulling the trunk lid down, I wondered how the hell I was going to get out once the lock latched. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the slip of paper that Michael had written his LINK address on.
"Well, he said I should use this in the case of an emergency," I muttered. Putting the paper carefully on the latch, I pulled the lid down as far as it would go and held it there. Now it would look closed, but I wouldn't be trapped. I should be safe, and remain undetected as long as I could hold the lid tightly enough.
Without the helmet to show infrared, the darkness in the trunk was absolute. I had to forcibly remind myself not to let in even a sliver of light. The air smelled like rubber and oil, and I could feel something wet where my cheek pressed against the scratchy upholstery. Shifting my legs around, I tried to find a comfortable position. This was one time I was glad I wasn't overly tall. I settled down to wait.