"Nowadays anything can touch off a riot," answered the State Department man. "And you're not terribly popular with the plebeians, you must realize."
"Also," Marrett added quickly, "it's easier to control the news about you if the government's the only source of info. Right, Nickerson?"
Nickerson seemed to go darker, beneath his tan. "The news media can be very irresponsible, sensational."
Marrett laughed, a full-throated chuckle that filled the limousine's plush interior. "Sure. No sense letting them get sensational about a man who's led a successful revolt against the government and has come down from the Moon to visit as a guest of the United Nations."
Nickerson did not smile back. "Mr. Marrett," he said coldly, "you are an American citizen, even though you seem more loyal to the UN than to your own nation. I advise you to be more careful with your statements."
"Stuff it, sonny!" Marrett pulled a fresh cigar from his shirt pocket. Despite the winter chill outside, the big meteo- rologist wore only a leather jacket over his shirt and slacks.
Landau raised a protesting hand. "Please. No smoking."
"Huh? Oh." Marrett looked at Kinsman, then slipped the cigar back into his pocket.
The entire expressway leading into Manhattan was clear of all other vehicles except for an occasional police cruiser or Army armored car. Even the overpasses were empty of traffic and people. As the little parade of limousines and their escorts neared Manhattan an eerie sensation began crawling up Kinsman's spine. He had been here before. It all looked familiar, yet somehow different. Empty. They've pulled all the people away. No one on the streets, no cars or buses. Yet there was something more. Something was missing from the bare canyons of concrete and brick. Defoliated! Kinsman realized. Not a tree in sight. They've taken down all the trees. For fuel?
They swung up onto the Queensboro Bridge and Kins- man saw the skyline of tall gray towers that he remembered, half lost in a cold brown haze of smog. Uptown of the bridge a few private cars shared the East River Drive with phalanxes of steam-powered buses. But downtown of the bridge, where the drive led to the UN complex of buildings, the roadway was completely empty except for police and Army vehicles.
The river below looked oily and turgid, flowing sluggish- ly. And then it hit Kinsman. Water! Miles and miles of water, waves lapping gently, water that falls from the sky and makes noisy little streams like that time in Colorado flowing down 524 the mountain slopes to form rivers that sweep out mto the oceans. Rivers. Lakes. Oceans. A whole planet brimful of water.
He stared into the gray river. All that water, and look what they've done to it. Fouled their own nest.
He pulled his eyes away from the filthy river. "I just don't understand why you felt it necessary to clear out our whole path," he said.
Nickerson glanced at Marrett, sitting beside him on the other jumpseat. "Mr. Kinsman," he said, "it may come as a shock to you, but the majority of the American people regard you as a traitor. We thought it would be better for your own safety to provide a maximum of security for you."
"And a minimum of opportunity for me to tell Selene's story directly to the people."
Nickerson's nostrils flared, but it was the only betrayal of his feelings. He said evenly, "We do not want to run the risk of starting a riot and possibly having you or the others of your party injured or killed."
Marrett looked disgusted but said nothing.
Kinsman turned back to stare at the river. So much water! For free! This world is so rich—and they've fucked it up so thoroughly.
As they pulled off the East River Drive and down the short stretch of rampway that led directly to the UN garage, suddenly there were people. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Thronging the pedestrian mall and spilling over to block the bottom of Forty-eighth Street. A cordon of mounted policemen—They still use horses! Kinsman marveled—kept the crowd from surging onto the rampway and blocking the limousines' access to the underground garage.
Kinsman remembered the UN Plaza as a neatly mani- cured park, green with trees and flowering shrubs. The glimpse he got of it as the limousines slowed down showed it to be bare and treeless. And packed with people who clutched tiny American flags in their fists and angrily waved placards:
