“It is believed that these same AWOL Unwinds are responsible for a rampage of violence in the city of Tucson,” says the anchorman. “The Juvenile Authority hopes this raid will allow the citizens of Tucson to rest easy once more.”
How could this happen? After all the horrific things Risa has done for the past two months to prevent this raid—to keep Connor and Hayden and everyone there safe—the Juvies raided anyway. Maybe it was always going to happen, and Roberta’s bargain was a lie from the beginning. How could Risa have been so stupid as to trust anything that woman said?
The assistant stage manager pokes his head in the door. “Three minutes, Miss Ward.”
Risa never considered herself a violent girl. Sure, she’s always been more than able to defend herself, but she was never the kind of girl to initiate or enjoy brutality. Yet in this moment, she knows she would kill Roberta if she had the means to do it.
Then she realizes she doesn’t have to. In less than three minutes Risa will be broadcasting live to a national audience. She doesn’t have to kill Roberta. She can unwind her. . . .
- - -
Bright, unnatural light. A TV studio with no audience. A well-known news personality in a suit and tie, looking smaller and older in person than he does on TV. Three cameras—one on him, one on Risa, one on Cam. As they wait for the show to come back from commercial, News Guy briefs them.
“I’ll be asking both of you questions. First about Risa’s decision to support unwinding, then about the process of rewinding that ostensibly led to Cam’s ‘birth,’ if you will, and finally I’ll ask about your relationship, and how you two found each other. I know they’re all questions you’ve been asked before, but I’m hoping you can give me something fresh.”
“Well, we’ll certainly do our best,” Risa says, with a grin that’s a little too pleasant.
Cam leans over to her and whispers, “We should hold hands.”
“There’s no wide shot,” she points out. “No one will see.”
“We should anyway.”
But this time Cam will not get his way.
The stage manager counts down from five. The red light on camera one comes on.
“Welcome back,” says News Guy. “Considering the current police action in Arizona, our guests tonight have a certain . . . resonance, if you will. A militant AWOL turned unwinding advocate, and a young man who, were it not for unwinding, would not even exist. Risa Ward and Camus Comprix.”
A moment of pleasant welcomes, and he starts his questioning, as he promised, with Risa, but hits her with something designed to throw her off balance.
“Miss Ward, as a former AWOL yourself, what’s your take on the raid in Arizona? Do you support the unwinding of these runaways?”
Nothing he asks can fluster her, because she already knows exactly what she’s going to say. Risa turns to look right into camera two, which has just come on.
“I feel it’s important that I set the record straight,” Risa begins. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, in favor of unwinding. . . .”
74 - Roberta
Had Roberta been paying attention, things might have gone down differently, meaning they wouldn’t have gone down at all. To her credit, her bargain with Risa was an honest, if intensely manipulative one. She made a few calls, pulled a few strings, and was able to confirm with the Juvenile Authority that there were no imminent raids planned on the airplane graveyard. Should that change, Roberta would be given ample warning—which meant ample time to pull further strings to prevent such a raid. Roberta has never been about deceit. She’s about results.
However, she has been so wrapped up in the media campaign to make Cam the darling of modern times, she’s not aware of the homes set on fire in Tucson, and the brazen youth who set them, claiming to be the avenger of all unwound storks. Yes, the Juvenile Authority was supposed to notify Roberta of the raid through her associates at Proactive Citizenry. But like any spiderlike organization, the fangs of Proactive Citizenry don’t know what the spinneret is doing. Once the news hit the airwaves, of course, her phone began to ring her pocket off—but she’s been too fed up with too many people wanting too much of her time to answer it.
Thus, Roberta does not know about the raid until the interview with Risa and Cam begins. And by then it’s too late.
- - -
Roberta sits in the greenroom, the studio’s pleasant little ready room replete with stale danishes and weak coffee, watching a monitor that broadcasts from the studio down the hall. Her expression of horror could curdle the nondairy creamer.
“I am not now, nor have I ever been, in favor of unwinding,” Risa says. “Unwinding may be the single most evil act sanctioned by the human race.”
The newsman, famous for being cool under fire, stammers for a moment. “But all those public service announcements you made—”
“They’re lies. I was being blackmailed.”
Roberta bursts out of the greenroom into the hall and storms toward the studio door. The red light is on. It’s supposed to be a warning not to go in, since the cameras are live, but it’s a warning she has no intention of heeding.
In the corridor around her are a series of monitors broadcasting Risa’s diatribe. Her face is on every screen, looking at Roberta from half a dozen different directions.
“I was threatened and blackmailed by a group called Proactive Citizenry. Oh, they have lots of other names, like the Consortium of Concerned Taxpayers and the National Whole Health Society, but it’s all smoke and mirrors.”
“Yes, I’m aware of Proactive Citizenry,” the newsman says, “but isn’t it a philanthropic group? A charitable organization?”
“Charitable to whom?”
Just as Roberta nears the stage door, she’s intercepted by a security guard.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t go in right now.”
“Let me pass, or I promise you, you’ll be out of work by morning.”
His response is to stand firm and call for backup, so Roberta heads for the control booth instead.
“They claim to control the Juvenile Authority,” Risa continues. “They claim to control a lot of things. Maybe they do, and maybe they don’t, but believe me, Proactive Citizenry has no one’s interests at heart but its own.”