Feed: The Newsflesh Trilogy - By Mira Grant Page 0,72

willing to stand for both the death penalty and an overturning of Roe v. Wade these days, but he does it, all while encouraging loosening the Mason?s Law restrictions preventing family farms from operating within a hundred miles of major metro areas and encouraging tighter interpretation of Raskin-Watts. Under his proposed legislation, it wouldn?t be a crime to own a cow in Albany, but it would be considered an act of terrorism to attempt to save the life of a heart attack victim before performing extensive blood tests. Did I want a little time alone with him, on the record, to see how much of a hole he could dig for himself when faced with the right questions?

Did I ever.

?When?s your interview??

?Three.? I glanced at my watch. ?Actually, if you don?t mind Shaun escorting you from here, that would be a big help. I need to get moving if I don?t want to make the governor wait.?

?I thought you did want to make the governor wait,? said Shaun.

?Yes, but it has to be on purpose.? Making him wait intentionally was showing strategy. Making him wait because I didn?t allow enough time to get to his office was sloppy. I have a reputation for being a lot of things?after the article where I called Wagman a ?publicity-seeking prostitute who decided to pole-dance on the Constitution for spare change,? ?bitch? has been at the top of the list?but ?sloppy? isn?t among them.

?Of course,? said Emily. ?Thank you for coming out to meet me.?

?It was my pleasure, Mrs. Ryman. Shaun, don?t make the nice potential First Lady poke any dead things before you deliver her to security.?

?You never let me have any fun,? Shaun mock-grumbled, offering Emily his arm. ?If you?d like to come with me, I believe I can promise an utterly dull, boring, and uneventful trip between points A and B.?

?That sounds lovely, Shaun,? said Emily. Her security detail?three large gentlemen who looked just like every other private security guard at the convention?fell in behind her as Shaun led her away down the hall.

When she?d e-mailed asking us to meet her, she said she?d be arriving at one of the delivery doors, rather than the VIP entrance. ?I want to avoid the press? was her quixotic, but sadly understandable, justification. Despite the snide implications that have been made by some of my colleagues, my team and I aren?t the lapdogs of what will hopefully become the Ryman administration. We?re twice as critical as anyone else when the candidate screws up because, quite frankly, we expect better of him. He?s ours. Win or lose, he belongs to us. And just like any proud parent or greedy shareholder, we want to see our investment make it to the finish line. If Peter screws the pooch, Shaun, Buffy, and I are right there in the thick of things, pointing to the wet spot and shouting for people to come quick and bring the cameras but we?re also the ones who won. We have no interest in embarrassing the senator by harassing his family or dragging them inappropriately into the spotlight.

An example: Rebecca Ryman fell off her horse during a show-jumping event at the Wisconsin State Fair three years ago. She was fifteen. I don?t understand the appeal of show-jumping?I don?t care for large mammals under any circumstances, and I like them even less when you?re stacking adolescents on their backs and teaching them to clear obstacles?so I can?t say what happened, just that the horse stepped wrong somehow, and Rebecca fell. She was fine. The horse broke a leg and had to be put down.

The euthanasia was performed without a hitch; as is standard with large mammals, they used a captive bolt gun to the forehead, followed by a stiletto to the spinal column. Nothing was hurt except the horse, Rebecca?s pride, and the reputation of the Wisconsin State Fair. The horse never had a prayer of reanimating. That hasn?t prevented six of our rivals from airing the footage from that fair for weeks on end, as if the embarrassment of a teenage girl somehow cancels out the fact that they didn?t make the cut. ?Ha-ha, you got the candidate, but we can mock his teenage daughter for an honest mistake.?

Sometimes I wonder if my crew is the only group of professional journalists who managed to avoid the asshole pills during training. Then I look at some of my editorials, especially the ones involving Wagman and her slow political suicide, and I realize that