“— not part of the machine. I am part of the community. Mayor Barr, Emma and Dianne — they’re part of the system, and that system ain’t workin’.”
Oh, sweet Jesus, he is not pulling that shit, is he? Judy went back to her laptop to finish the e-mail in case Big Charlie checked that before his voicemail.
Solano went on: “Humanity’s at war with itself right now, and we need people who can step up. I’ve always stepped up when it matters, when the people of New York have needed me, both as a lawyer and an activist. And honestly, what I said about Charlie applies to the others, too, in that they’re too close. They’re part of the problem, so they don’t see the solution. I can bring fresh eyes, eyes that have seen the reality of what the world is turning into.”
Judy hit send on the e-mail she’d composed before trying to call, and then leaned back on her couch. In truth, she had also been against Big Charlie running for senator. Before I1V1, she had figured he’d be gunning for it when a seat came open, but now? It was madness.
But she also believed that he could do some good, so it was worth the shot.
She just hoped that she wasn’t fooling herself. Or him.
— 18 —
Mia Fitzsimmons thought that Jack Napolitano was going to crawl out of his own skin.
“Can you believe that snake-in-the-grass is the one moderating?” He shook his perfectly coiffed head. “This was my racket.”
Mia tried to ignore him, all the while cursing whoever sat the two of them next to each other in the press area. The debate among Democratic candidates for senator was being held at Fordham University, and campus security had insisted on assigned seats for the press — and indeed for everyone else, as Big Charlie’s presence on the dais led to some serious security concerns.
Jack had said that between every question, and Mia swore that the next time, she was going to kick him. Either that or ask how she qualified as a snake in the grass when he was the one who took her job when she was promoted?
The moderator he was complaining about was Yuki Nitobe, who had been asked to moderate by several of the candidates — though notably not Big Charlie. Mia figured they were hoping that having the journalist who broke the I1V1 story do the moderating would have people talking about vampires even more, thus focusing more animus on Big Charlie.
The sad thing was, it would probably work.
“Mayor Barr,” Nitobe said, “the next question is for you. Do you feel that the most important legislative agenda before Congress in the coming months will be legislation against the I1V1 virus?”
“Absolutely,” Barr said without hesitation. “This virus is producing people who are running roughshod over, not just laws, but morality.” Barr started doing the cup-your-thumb-in-your-index-finger method of pointing that politicians kept doing because somebody told them it made them look forceful. Mia was looking forward to the day when someone figured out that whoever told them that was wrong. “Plus they have abilities that were never accounted for in current jurisprudence,” Barr added. “Now I’m not saying people should be rounded up or anything crazy like that. I’m talking solely about the vampires who have committed crimes — we need to come up with different punishments and different methods for arresting, incarcerating, and prosecuting that small percentage of those who do commit crimes.”
As with every question, that resulted in applause. Jack started to make a comment, but Mia just glared at him, and he clammed up.
Nitobe waited for the applause to die down. “The next question is for President Jaffe. What would be your response to a vampire who —”
Big Charlie then cut in, which was a breach in protocol. All the journalists around Mia sat up. “Excuse me, but I am afraid I must interrupt. This is the fifth question in a row that has dealt with I1V1. One would think that a United States Senator had little else to deal with in his or her day-to-day life than legislating against those of us who suffer from the virus.”
Nitobe looked positively nonplussed, but before she could say anything, Emma Jaffe, the sitting Manhattan borough president, said, “Oh come on, Charlie, do you really think it’s not an important issue? Vampires have been running rampant with no control, and it’s been worse in the big cities. The world takes the lead from New York, and we need to provide that leadership.”
Mia snorted, since that was probably Jaffe’s already-prepared answer to that question.
Dianne Axisa, a state senator, jumped in. “I think Charlie raises a good point. There’s a budget crisis, we don’t have enough jobs or true national health care, there are serious allocation and tax issues facing this country — and we’ve spent all our time in this debate talking about one issue. Yes, it’s an important issue, but it’s hardly the only one.”
Wow, two voices of reason. Mia jotted down notes. One more than I was expecting.
Solano got that annoying smile of his. “I gotta say, Charlie, I think it’s kinda disingenuous for you to complain, since the only reason you’re running is because you can turn yourself into a werewolf.”
“My reasons for running are many, Mickey. But the primary one is to make sure that those of us who suffer from this virus are given a voice in government.” He pointed at the two female candidates. “It was less than a hundred years ago that Dianne and Emma could not even vote for a state representative in Washington, much less attempt to become one. It took almost a century and a half for women to achieve that right — I fear that achieving similar rights for my own kind may take as long, and that is simply not acceptable.”
A gasp passed through the room. Solano put voice to what everyone was suddenly thinking. “That sounded like a threat, Charlie. And having I1V1 doesn’t exactly take away your right to vote.”
Big Charlie was sounding more — intense? angry? — than Mia had ever heard him. His voice was tighter and tenser than usual. “I have spoken with many who have faced problems, especially those who have had their appearance changed by the virus. They no longer match the visage that appears on their driver’s license or passport and are denied simple rights — and not just to vote. We do require new legislation, it is true, but Aaron’s solution focuses far too much on the negative and not enough on the positive. We need to take charge of our own destiny, and not let it be defined by others.”
The applause that generated was much more subdued and guarded than that of the previous candidates’.
— 19 —
Emma Jaffe lay in her bed. The television was on, and her laptop was open, but she wasn’t paying particularly close attention to either one.
It had been an exhausting day, the latest in a series. Her staff was handling most of the day-to-day of running the borough of Manhattan, which was good, because this campaign was taking up all of her spare time. Any other time, a senate race wouldn’t be this brutal, but D.A. Charles made it a huge story. She was spending more time on camera than she ever imagined she would.
On the other hand, it was publicity you couldn’t buy. People all over the country were talking about her. Even if she didn’t win the race, she had recognition now, and could parlay that into something much bigger. If senator didn’t work, there was always mayor next year.
She looked to the empty half of the bed. You coulda been part of this, Steve. But then, her career had taken off since the divorce, so maybe he couldn’t have been. Maybe he really had been holding her back.
The TV went to commercial, and a deep voice said, “Michael Fayne. Anson Morris. Nathan Kapsis. What do they all have in common? They’re all New Yorkers, they’re all vampires — and they’re all killers.”
She grabbed for the remote and turned the volume up. She and her staff had gone ’round and ’round over this ad. Even once they finally agreed to film it, finding the right voice had been hard. Her initial thought had been for a gentle female voice, but her campaign manager had convinced her that the deep, scratchy male voice was the way to go.
“Nathan Kapsis murdered his uncle, Senator Alex Kapsis — and now another killer just like him wants to take his seat. You wouldn’t let the fox into then henhouse. So why should we let a vampire into Congress? Whatever you do next Tuesday — don’t vote for Hugues Charles for Senate. Vote life, not death.”
Then her own voice: “I’m Emma Jaffe and I approve this message.”
The key, of course, was that last line in the ad. “Vote life, not death” was the point she’d be hammering home on the rest of her interviews for the next week. Fear was her best weapon right now.
A crack startled her, echoing throughout her apartment. “Hello?”
Steve had taken the dog with him when he left her, so the apartment was empty. She threw the covers aside, pulled her bathrobe tighter around her waist, and cautiously walked toward the doorway. She left the bedroom door open, generally.
A familiar clack-clack echoed through the apartment: paws on hardwood. But she hadn’t heard it since Steve took Muttley.
Then the clacking got faster, and Emma’s heartbeat did likewise. “Who’s there?”
A shape formed in the darkness of the hallway, coalescing into a giant, four-legged, hairy creature, breathing heavily and moving toward her.
Her heart pounded into her ribs. She realized that using fear against Big Charlie was a weapon that worked both ways.
A second later, the shape leapt toward her, and she screamed.
— 20 —
Transcript of “On the Street” segment of Good Morning NYC
GOOD MORNING NYC: Today’s “On the Street” is about the senate race currently playing out, as we went to Grand Central and asked commuters who they would be voting for.
PERSON #1: Yo, I’m actually from the Bronx, and I voted for Big Charlie every time he ran — but no way in hell I’m votin’ for that motherBLEEPer now!
PERSON #2: Honestly, I’ve gone to every candidate’s web site and read over their platforms. VanDerMeer’s right out — the man’s living in the fifties, honestly. Barr never impressed me when he was mayor, and his campaign feels like a desperate attempt to remind everyone he’s alive, y’know? Solano’s just a scuzzball lawyer. Jaffe and Axisa are okay, I guess, but they don’t seem to have much substance. I’ll probably vote for one of them, honestly. The only candidate I find myself liking and agreeing with is Big Charlie — but of course, I can’t vote for that. That’d be crazy.
