The line went dead. In his Folcroft office, where he was working late, Harold Smith turned up the sound on the TV screen in time to hear Ned Doppler.
Abeer Ghuia had been brought into the discussion. Her sharp, dusky face smoldered at the viewing public.
"I fear no terrorists, for I am under the protection of the Very First Lady and the National Organization of Women, two of the most potent political entities in ail of America."
"Is there anything you can tell us about these Messengers of Muhammad?"
"Nothing. There is nothing to tell. Muhammad is a false prophet. I am the new prophet. With those who follow me, I will sweep across the face of America and then the world like an angry ocean, drowning those who do not believe as I do and carrying believers in Um Allaha to Paradise, where women will liberate the enslaved from the dead Muslim males who rape and enslave them cruelly."
An off-camera voice cut in. "I have something to say, Ned."
"I'm still with Miss Ghula, Miss Tanaka."
"But she doesn't know anything about the terrorists. I do."
"Just a second. Your turn will come."
"She has had her turn," Abeer Ghula spat. "I am speaking now."
"This is my story," Tamayo Tanaka said petulantly.
"And this is my show," countered Ned Doppler. "And according to the little voice in my earpiece, we have to take a break."
The camera captured Doppler's fleshy jack-o'- lantern face.
"I'll be back after this." the show's over," said Remo as they cut to a commercial.
"He said he would be back," Chiun argued.
"He always says that to trick people into watching the last three commercials.''
"But he was not done."
"Doesn't matter. He's done."
"We will watch to be certain," said Chiun, confiscating the remote control.
After the commercial break, Ned Doppler's face reappeared. "That's all we have time for tonight. Good of you all to come on 'Nightmirror.'"
Amid the unhappy murmurs from the FBI director and the postmaster general, Tamayo Tanaka's miserable voice said, "Thank you for hosting my network debut."
"Told you so," said Remo, hitting the remote's Off button.
, Harold Smith blinked. Was Tamayo Tanaka's left eye deformed? It looked positively swollen next to the slim, dark almond that was her right.
"I would like pork for breakfast and Turkish coffee."