The steel eyes smiled slyly. "I am what I must be," she said. "Like all of us."
Out of the corner of his eye, Remo saw Emrys fumbling to put his arm around the shivering, beaming boy.
Chapter Eighteen
A negotiation was underway on the campus of Du Lac College in Minnesota. The two-story ivory-colored mansion that was the home of the college president was ringed by a squad of thirty National Guardsmen, carrying rifles, and staring at a small hillock thirty yards away where two men were talking.
Behind the two men was a crowd of 300 students, dressed in the 1980s version of sixties Greenwich Village chic. There were a lot of bandanas and ripped T-shirts, along with designer jeans and hair died orange and purple and green.
Smith moved into the crowd of students who parted to make way for him, then closed in to swallow him up.
"Who are you?" a female student asked.
"Dr. Feldmar's assistant," Smith said. "She around?"
"Like I haven't seen Birdie yet. She ought to be here."
"Like this is her show, right?" Smith said.
"Yeah."
Smith looked toward the small grassy knoll halfway toward the college president's mansion.
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One of the two men there was Smith's age, but he wore cutoff jeans, and a flowered shirt with a black bandana around his open throat. The other man was younger but conservatively dressed in a sports jacket, dress shirt and slacks.
Smith moved through the crowd so he could hear the two men talking.
"We want an end to racism on campus," the older man was saying. He looked bored.
Smith said to a young woman standing next to him, "Who is that guy?" The young woman was bouncing a rock the size of a chicken egg up and down on the palm of her hand.
"That's Vishnu," she said.
"Who's Vishnu?"
"Who are you anyway?" the woman asked suspiciously.
"Robin's assistant," Smith said. "I'm new here."
"Oh. I guess it's all right then. Vishnu's the chairman of the ERA movement. Vishnu's not really his name, but it was his name last year when he was God, and everybody liked the name, and he kept it even if he isn't God anymore."
"ERA?" Smith said. "Equal rights?"
"Naaah," she said in disgust. "End Racist America. It's our new movement. Turn America over to Cuba as a colony."
"Good idea," Smith said.
"Robin's idea," the woman said.
"Who's the other man?" Smith asked.
"Jeez, you don't know anything,. That's President McHale."
"He's younger than Vishnu," Smith said.
"We're against ageism," she said. "Students don't have to be young."
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The two men on the small knoll were arguing now. The college president said, "What racism?"
"We want black professors in every department."
"We've got them," President McHale said.
"Tokens," Vishnu said. "Meaningless tokens. What about Agent Orange?"
"What about it?"
"What have you done about it?" Vishnu demanded.
"We've kept it off campus," McHale said.
"Words. More words. What about dioxin?"
"What the hell have we got to do with dioxin?" McHale demanded.
"What did you ever do about it?"
"What did you ever do about it?"
"I'm not on trial here," Vishnu said.
"I didn't know I was either," McHale said.
"What about AIDS?"
"Campus health center's got a program."
"More words. Just words," Vishnu said. "All that's necessary for evil to triumph is for people like you to do nothing.''
"What do you want me to do?" McHale asked.