"Well, one can't accuse them of lacking political savvy." Senator Gregg Hartmann uncrossed his legs and got up out of the colonial reproduction chair to turn off the hotel room television set.
"A little chutzpah never hurts, Gregg." Hiram Worchester leaned his head on his hand and looked over at Hartmann. "But what do you think our response should be?"
"Response! What response can we possibly make?" Senator Lyons interrupted Hartmann's answer. "We are here to help the victims of the wild card virus. I see no connection whatsoever. These ... revolutionaries or whatever they are are simply trying to use us. We have a responsibility to ignore them. We can hardly afford to become involved in some petty nationalistic squabble!"
Lyons crossed his arms and walked over to the window. Unobtrusively a young Indian maid was let into the room to pick up the remains of their room-service lunch. Head down, she glanced at each of them before silently carrying her heavily loaded tray out the door. Hartmann shook his head at Senator Lyons.
" I understand your point, but did you look at the people out there? A lot of the people who are following these `Hero Twins' are jokers. Don't we have a responsibility toward them?" Hartmann relaxed back into his chair and rolled his back in an attempt to get comfortable. "Besides, we can't afford to ignore them. It would compromise our own mission if we pretended they, and their problems, didn't exist. The world here is very different from what you're used to seeing, even on the reservations. There are different attitudes. The Indians have been suffering since the Conquest. They take the long view. To them the wild card virus is just another cross to bear."
"'Sides, Senator, you think those boys are aces, like the reporters say?" Mordecai Jones looked across the hotel room at the Wyoming senator. "Got to say, I've got some sympathy for what they're tryin' to do. Slavery, whatever they call it down here, ain't right."
"It's obvious that we are involved because of the wild card victims, if nothing else. If meeting with them will help them to get aid, we have a responsibility to do what we can." Tachyon spoke from his chair. "On the other hand, I hear lots of talk about homelands and I see very little commitment to working on practical problems. Problems such as the subsistence level of the victims here. You can see that they need medical help. What do you think, Hiram?"
"Gregg's right. We can't avoid a meeting. There's been too much publicity. Beyond that, we are here to see how jokers are treated in other countries. Judging by what we've seen, we could help out down here by leaning on the government a little. This would appear to be a good way to do it. We don't have to endorse their actions, just express our concern."
"That sounds reasonable. I'll let you deal with the politics. I need to get to that hospital tour." Tachyon massaged one temple. "I'm tired of talking to the government. I want to see what's going on."
The door to the sitting room opened and Billy Ray peered in. "The phones are ringing off the hooks, and we've got reporters coming up the fire stairs. What are we supposed to tell them?"
Hartmann nodded to Tachyon before answering. "Those of us who can spare the time from carefully timed schedules will see these `Hero Twins.' make it clear that we are doing this in the interests of the wild card victims, not for political reasons."
"Great. The Father, Chrysalis, and Xavier ought to be back soon They went out to see the camp and talk to the jokers there." Anticipating Tachyon's next question, he smiled at the doctor. "Your car's waiting downstairs. But the sooner you can give me an official statement for the press, the better."
"I'll have my people start drafting one immediately, Billy." Hartmann was obviously on familiar ground. "You'll have it within the hour."
In the morning everyone gathered, hungover and bleary from the previous night's celebrations, but ready to march off to see the United Nations tour. When Hunapu and Xbalanque came out of their houses, the crowd became quiet. Xbalanque looked out over the people and wished that it were possible to have them follow him into the city. It would look great on film, but Akabal was convinced that it might just be the excuse the government was looking for to open fire. He jumped up