Ace in the Hole - By George R. R. Martin Page 0,24

a fucking pity.

Both Ellen and Amy were staring at him. He was standing stock still, frozen. Gregg gave them an apologetic shrug and continued.

"A few minutes ago, Bill Johnson called me `Senator.' Now, it's been over a year since I gave up my seat to run for this candidacy, but I understand the mistake. Bill's been calling me Senator-when he hasn't been calling me other things-for years now."

A slow amusement moved through the ranks in front him. "That's habit," Gregg told them, sliding easily back into Tony's speech. "It's easy to let habits rule us. It's easy for us to cling to ancient prejudices, clouded outlooks, and outright fables. But we can't do that, not now. We hear too many rumors and believe them without foundation. We've had the habits and listened to the lies for years: that jokers are somehow accursed; that it's right to hate people-jokers o otherwise-because they look or act differently; that people can't change, and the way it is is the way it must be. If yo believe opinions and feelings are set in concrete, you 'r right-you can't change, you can't grow. But when we can d something that defies such beliefs, well, to me that's worth more coverage than sensational rumors about infidelity." Gregg glanced over to Ellen; she nodded back. Gimli still there and Gregg's head ached with the sound of his voice but he blinked and went on. He wanted to get off the podium, to be alone in his room. He was rushing, speaking too fast; he forced himself to slow down.

"I'm pleased to say that some things we think eternal pass. I've based my entire campaign on the idea that now is the tim to heal the wounds. Opinions change. We can embrace those we once hated. That's important. That's newsworthy. And it's also not my story. I can understand a person who takes his o her fervor too far. I can understand passionate conviction even when I don't agree with them. We all have things w believe in strongly and that's good. It becomes a proble when such passion crosses the line beyond fervor to violence. There have been joker organizations that have sometimes stepped over that line."

Gregg gestured to the back of the stage. "Amy, pleas( bring them out."

The curtains at the back of the stage parted, and jokers stepped into the light. One had skin marked with fine serrated ridges; the other was shadowy and the ghost of the curtains could be seen through him. The press began t murmur.

"I'm sure I don't need to introduce File and Shroud t you. Their faces were prominent in your papers and on your broadcasts last year when the JJS was finally broken up." Gimli laughed inside at that; Gregg swallowed hard. "Some of the JJS, those who seemed peripheral members or harmless, were simply fined and released. Others, the ones deemed truly dangerous, were incarcerated. File and Shroud have been in a federal prison since that time. Perhaps deservedly so-both have admitted to extremely violent acts. Yet ... I was the direct victim of some of that violence, and I've spoken to File and Shroud extensively in the last year. I feel that they've both learned a hard and painful lesson and are genuinely remorseful."

"I will stand by my own words and convictions. I believe in reconciliation. We need to forgive, we need to strive to understand those less fortunate than ourselves. Today, in an agreement with Governor Cuomo of New York, the Justice Department, and the New York Senate, I've arranged to grant parole to File and Shroud."

Gregg placed his arms around the jokers: the rough skin of File, the misty shoulders of Shroud. "This is far more important than rumors. This is genuine, and it's also not my story-it's theirs. I'll let them convince you as they convinced me. Talk to them. Ask them your questions. Amy, if you'd moderate -"

As the first questions were shouted from the crowd and File stepped to the microphone, Gregg took a deep breath and retreated.

Don't you understand? Gimli taunted as Gregg left the room and headed for the elevators. You haven't gotten rid of me. You can't run away from my particular obsession. I'm here. And I'm staying. I don't forgive. Not at all.

With fingers without feeling Sara replaced the receiver in its cradle.

She'd fled her room in tears, trusting in her small size and a certain knack of invisibility that had served her well at various points in