By turning his head slightly Kinsman could see the wall 559 screen. The dance floor was jammed with happy people. Old people, mostly. The scene shifted. Amsterdam Mall was crowd- ed with dancing people, too. But these were young, black, Puerto Rican, other Latins. And their dancing was not stately or measured. Their music was not provided by a painstak- ingly detailed simulacrum of a long-dead orchestra. Kinsman could see steel drums and guitars and enough amplifiers to make him wonder sleepily, Where'd they get the electricity?
He forced himself awake. "Stop sticking needles in me, goddammitati!"
Landau laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Be still. Quiet."
"Colonel Colt." Kinsman could not see the desk, but the voice came through the phone speaker clearly. It was an angry burning whisper.
"Right here." Colt's voice was calm. He's made his decision, Kinsman knew.
"Congratulations, Colonel. You have earned yourself a firing squad."
"Guess again, baby. I'm on UN territory and I've asked for asylum in Selene."
"You are a traitor," the harsh voice whispered. "A turncoat. Worse even than Kinsman himself. You knew what we were doing. You helped to plan it for us. And then you changed sides. There will be no mercy for you, black man. No place to hide. You are a dead man."
"Everybody dies," Colt said, in his toughest ghetto snarl. "Including you."
"That is true. But you will die sooner than most. Our troops will not be thwarted. They will seize Station Alpha or destroy it."
"Better change their orders. They'll get their asses fried if they don't turn back."
"They will not turn back. And if your newfound friends kill American troops, not even the UN building will be safe for you."
"If I were you," Kinsman heard Colt saying quite distinctly, "I'd be heading for a bomb shelter instead of making threatening phone calls." Then he heard the faint snap of the phone switch.
"Alex," Kinsman said. "Don't put me under. I've got to stay awake ... got to ..."
"Your EKG is frightening," Landau said. "You will stay down and you will rest."
"He will not," Colt said firmly.
Kinsman fumbled for the controls on the arm of his chair and swung it around to a point where he could see Colt. Don't try sitting up, he warned himself. Don't get that brave. The pain was dulled now, but he knew that was from whatever Landau had injected into him. The drug had merely turned the volume down temporarily.
"Keep him awake and alert," Colt said, walking over to face Landau. "We're gonna need him. He's the one they'll listen to—the people up there and the people down here. If he's out of it, they're not gonna listen to you or me."
"There is Harriman," Landau said through barely opened lips.
"Keep him awake," Colt repeated.
