Bonnie returned and sat on the sofa. Chris didn’t look at her.
“Thank you, Alenka,” Wells said. “Always a pleasure to speak with you.”
“And you, of course,” she said. “Before we talk about your candidacy, I’d like to ask your thoughts on last week’s tragic bombing at the Seaport Museum.”
They both looked somber as Wells shook his head. “Terrible,” he said. “Just terrible. I lost some dear friends in that senseless act, including Reverend Bill Calkin, some true heroes in the fight to preserve humanity.” The camera cut to a close-up as he took a deep breath and dabbed at one eye with a knuckle—although if any tears were there, even the Bembrys’ super-hi-res holovid wasn’t quite good enough to pick it up.
“They weren’t friends,” I said, and the Bembrys all turned to look at me. “Reverend Calkin told me so himself. He specifically said he and Howard Wells weren’t friends.”
“…But I’m not surprised by what happened,” Wells continued, and they all looked back at the holovid.
“You’re not?” Bogdan asked.
“Sadly, no. I urged Reverend Calkin not to go, not to even hold the luncheon in the first place.”
“Don’t you think dialogue is important?”
“You can’t have dialogue with the mixies.”
The camera cut to Bogdan, looking on placidly. In their previous interview, she had called him on it when he said “mixies.” This time she let it go.
“They’re animals,” Wells continued. “They’ve chosen to be animals. It should come as no surprise when they behave like animals. People don’t like to talk about it, because they want to be nice, but mixies bring joblessness and crime. They bring disease.”
“This is bullshit,” I said under my breath. Chris and Bonnie both turned to look at me. “Sorry,” I said.
“No, you’re right,” Bonnie said.
Bogdan seemed like a different interviewer from before, fawning instead of challenging, tossing one softball after another: “How has your experience as a successful entrepreneur prepared you to be president?…What about your experience leading Humans for Humanity?…What made you decide to give back as a public servant?”
In her previous interview, on 60 Minutes, she had asked about the inequity of this technology and how it widened the gap between rich and poor. This time, the closest she got was to ask about Wellplant Corporation’s program to make Wellplants available to those who can’t afford them, especially those in public service. She described the program in such glowing terms that even Wells seemed taken aback.
“Well, yes,” he said, awkwardly, stumbling as if he was having trouble finding something positive to say about the program that she hadn’t already said. “It is an excellent program, and we are delighted to be in a position to give something back to those who do so much for all of us.”
She asked him about the growing trend of political and business leaders getting Wellplants.
“Of course, it makes perfect sense,” Wells said. “These people are the best and the brightest—even brighter now—and they want to do what is best for their constituents, for their employees and clients and customers and shareholders. It is a simple fact that however good you are at your job, a Wellplant will make you better.”
She asked him about his policy proposals, but didn’t press him in any way when he sidestepped or deflected or answered with a platitude or with the answer to the question he wanted to answer instead of the question she had asked.
She brought up Wellplant’s production problems, but didn’t mention the events in Gellersville, with Omnicare, and how that had exacerbated the production shortages. She didn’t even call him on it when he suggested that high demand was the only reason they were having trouble filling orders. And when he pointed out that supply couldn’t be too bad since she was able to get one herself, Bogdan practically giggled.
“Yes,” she said, “and I love it. Don’t know how I got by without it, actually.”
For a moment, they beamed at each other, as if having some kind of silent conversation.
“As I recall, you had your doubts about Wellplant, isn’t that right?” Wells asked her.
“Yes, it’s true,” she said, with a sheepish laugh. “But not anymore. No doubts whatsoever.”
“I’m so pleased to hear that,” he said, looking very, very pleased, indeed.
“This is pathetic,” I said, finally.
“I know, right?” Claudia said. “I thought Wellplants were supposed to make you smarter. Alenka Bogdan’s seems to have turned her into an idiot.” Then she added, “No offense, Dad.”
Chris shrugged. “Well, perhaps it’s made her smart enough to realize that maybe Wells isn’t entirely bad after all.”
Claudia snorted. “Really, Dad? Next you’ll be saying it makes people smart enough to realize that chimeras really are nonpersons.”
Chris laughed, as though it was entirely a joke. “Don’t be silly, pumpkin.”
Bonnie got up and left the room again. I was thinking of following her, and I think Claudia was, too, but then the holovid cut to a view of the Convention Center concourse, packed with thousands of people, all looking up at a massive two-dimensional video screen showing the Day One interview. There was a slight lag, with the screen showing Wells and Bogdan sitting across from each other. Then it shifted to the image of the crowd itself, and a thunderous cheer rose up.
Those closest to the camera turned to look at it. One of them was very tall and thin, with red glasses and a shock of silver-white hair on top of his head.
“Claudia, look,” I said, pointing at him. “It’s that jerk from last night.” The woman with the braids was standing next to him.
Claudia got up, too, and we both moved closer to the holodisplay.
“Last night?” Chris asked. “Where were you kids?”
“That is him,” Claudia said, ignoring him. “The woman, too.”
The people next to him turned toward the camera, as well, and it was the same group that had been with him last night.
The three guys who had been wearing the H4H T-shirts looked terrible, with sunken eyes and blotchy, sweaty faces. They looked sick. One of them hunched over to cough, a deep wracking cough. A woman standing in front of him wiped the back of her neck, then glared at him in disgust.
Right away, I knew that was important, although I didn’t quite understand why. I looked at Claudia and she looked back, her eyes full of meaning I couldn’t decipher. Then the holovid cut to a view from a vantage point on the other side of the room, closer to the screen.
“Do you know those people?” Chris asked.
“No, Dad,” Claudia said, exasperated. “We saw them on the street. That’s all. They’re a bunch of H4Hers.” She glanced at me and picked up her coffee. “I’m going upstairs.”
“Okay,” Chris said. “Breakfast’ll be soon.”
I’d had enough of Wells and the new Alenka Bogdan, and the segment was over anyway. I grabbed my coffee and headed after Claudia.
She was waiting for me in the hallway, but she turned without a word and headed up the stairs. I followed close behind.