"I don't care if you're the SLA, the A.F. of L. of the S-H-I-T-S," the newsman said. "Nothing happened tonight, so there's no news."
"Jesus," Gloria sighed. "Nothing happened. Always you want action. You're sensationalist scandalmongers."
"That's about it," the newsman said.
"Disgusting."
"If you say so," he agreed.
"Doesn't intent count for anything?"
"Lady," the newsman said tiredly. "If malicious intent were the basis for a story, the evening news would be forty hours long."
"But this was a freaking atomic bomb, you asshole," Gloria screamed.
"And this is a dial tone," the newsman said as he hung up on her.
Gloria lit a cigarette from the butt of Nathan's. "We've got to come up with a new plan," she said.
"They didn't buy it?"
"Pigs. The guy said malicious intent wasn't enough."
"It was enough in Vietnam," Nathan said in his most self-righteous tone.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gloria asked.
"I don't know," Nathan said mildly. "Talking about Vietnam is usually safe."
"Vietnam isn't in anymore," Gloria said, "so stop jerking around. This is important. Perriweather's going to hit the ceiling when he finds out the bomb didn't go off. He must have spent a fortune on this."
"A fortune," Nathan said. Agreeing with Gloria was almost always safe.
"Maybe we can come up with something just as good. Something sensational that the media would be interested in," Gloria said.
"WIMP wasn't interested?" Nathan asked.
"They said they sent a crew but everybody went home."
"And WACK?" Nathan asked.
"They sent a crew too and got assaulted by some people watching flowers bloom. So we've got to come up with something good."
"Like what?"
"Think," Gloria demanded.
Nathan pressed his eyebrows together. "How's this?"
"That's real good," she said.
"I'm thinking. How about a protest?"
"Protests are out," she said. "It's got to be big."
"We used to liberate banks," Nathan said.
"No good. Banks are out too."
"What's in?"
"Schools and supermarkets," Gloria said. "Stuff like that. Murdering children is always good."
"How about a hospital," Nathan said. "Or is that too gross?"
"A hospital?" Gloria said sharply.
"Yeah. Really, I didn't mean it the way it sounded."
"That's brilliant. A hospital. A children's ward. And we'll do it on those days when they bring pets to play with kids. We'll show them to let the little bastards mistreat animals."
"Real good," Nathan said. "Right on."
"Don't say that. 'Right on' is out."
"Sorry, Gloria. I meant your idea is really the bottom line."
"It's the max," she said.
"Real max, Gloria," said Nathan.
"Good. Now we can call Perriweather and tell him what we're planning," Gloria said. "I was never too hot on that atomic-bomb idea anyway."
"Too destructive?" Nathan said.
"Naaah, but who'd be around to notice the blood?" Gloria asked.
Chapter 11
Dr. Dexter Morley was sitting on a high stool, his pudgy cheeks flushed, his fat little fingers clasped together in his lap, when Perriweather entered the lab. The little scientist's lips curved into a prideful quick grin when he saw his employer.
"Well?" Perriweather asked impatiently.
"The experiment is complete," Morley said. His voice quivered with excitement and accomplishment.
"Where is it?" Perriweather asked, brushing past the scientist and heading for the lab tables.