As I slowly began the transition from slumber to consciousness, I became aware of my surroundings.
       There, taped overhead on my ceiling, was a hastily scrawled message that read, "Don`t fall asleep again!" I`d obviously written it when I was drunk. I need to stop playing jokes on myself like that.
       I gave the blanket a yank to cover my head, exposing my feet in the process. I definitely needed a bigger bed, too. I`d had this one for years and kept it more out of habit and a lack of drive to get a new one than anything else.
       With a groan, I sat up, gave the blanket a push in the center and threw the bottom down over my feet again. There, that should do it. Falling back onto my pillow, I stared at my note once more. What day was this, anyway?
       I glanced over at my clock and immediately wished I hadn`t. Yeah, I had to get up. I`m convinced there`s some little gremlin that goes into everybody`s room at night and sets their clocks ahead a few hours so that they only get three or four hours sleep. That`s the only explanation for why I`m always tired.
       Well, that and my staying up all night, but that`s really another issue entirely.
       I heaved a sigh and threw the covers aside. Getting all my bits and pieces recovered in the morning was always an ordeal that woke me up more than I wanted it to. If I stayed in bed I`d toss and turn for the next twenty minutes or so before I`d fall back to sleep and that would only give me a net gain of five minutes sleep and I`d be late for work.
       I gave my pillow one of my best, "We could have been so good together" looks and then rose to head for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later I was showered, shaved, dressed, and out the door.

       My name is unimportant. I`m just your average Tasnican citizen, doing his duty to...
       "Hey, Adam!" a voice called out to me.
       Ah, but of course. Leave it to Harry Rolyn to ruin my rather nifty and quasi-mysterious narrative. This would have been so much better if you`d had no idea who it was you were listening to, but I guess the secret is out and there`s no point keeping it a secret anymore. My name is Adam Johannson, sleep enthusiast. Harry`s an old friend of mine who`s generally a nice guy to hang out with, but, can be a real pain in the neck sometimes. I silently prayed this would fall into the former category.
       "Hey, Har," I replied. "What`s up?"
       "You," Harry replied, sarcastically.Well, he was on his way to the latter in an express lane. "I thought I`d be able to catch you at your place before you left. I guess you got up early."
       I shrugged. "Actually, it was on time."
       He chuckled. "Well, whatever. Listen, I need to borrow some money."
       I tried not to roll my eyes. Same old Harry. "How much?" I asked.
       "A couple hundred GP," he replied.
       This time I did roll my eyes. "Harry," I started.
       He interrupted me. "Hey, it`s not like it`d be giving me money, Adam. I`d make it worth your while. Think of it as a trade."
       "What could you possibly have to trade me, Harry?"
       He smirked. "You know who I`ve been working for, right?"
       I looked up and tried to recall. Okay, so I wasn`t the best friend in the world. But, if I remembered everything Harry told me, my brain would be full of useless sports trivia with no room left over for the skills I needed to do my job. "Uhh..." I said. I glanced over at him. "Uhh... a little help?"
       With a grin on his face, Harry replied, "Try `Williams`."
       My brow furrowed. Why was he...?
       Then, like lightning, my eyes widened. Williams?!
       "You`re not!" I insisted.
       "I am!" he said. "I told you about this."
       "You did not," I replied. "I`d have remembered."
       "I told you," he repeated.
       "Harry, I swear, if you`d told me I`d have remembered."
       "I did tell you. You didn`t remember."
       Trying to change the subject, I pressed, "So, what about him?"
       Looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary, Harry just continued to grin. He patted me on the shoulder. "Nothing yet, but make sure you catch me around lunch."
       "Around lunch?" Okay, I was thoroughly confused now. "Why around...?"
       "Listen," Harry said. "Just trust me on this. I`ll be in Avers Park."
       "Avers Park," I repeated.
       "Right," Harry said, thumping me on the shoulder. "I`ll see you then. So, can you give me the money?"
       "This better be worth it, Harry," I warned, fishing out my wallet.
       "It will be," he assured me. "It will be." With that, my money in hand, he walked off down the street.
       I kept on telling myself that this was Harry I was dealing with, but even so I couldn`t help but get excited. On a day like today, having a friend who worked for Williams could be a real advantage. I might even get a promotion out of the deal (or at least a raise, which is all that really matters in the end).
       I ducked into a coffee shop and returned with my beverage of choice. The coffee at work really stinks. As if the universe sensed the need to balance things out, though, the donuts there couldn`t be beat. I just hoped I got there in time to get my pick of the bunch. Ziggy always likes to gorge himself in the morning leaving me with the melted ones, and melted donuts totally defeat the purpose.
       As I turned the street corner, I noticed a "Vote Here" sign stuck outside a theatre with a very bored looking woman slouching behind a table next to it. I decided to brighten her morning and flashed her a smile. "Big turnout this morning?"
       She snorted. "Not a soul."
       I frowned. "That`s no good. It makes my job harder."
       She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. As if I were a mindreader, I got the message loud and clear: Buddy, I care more about lint than I do about your job, leave me alone.
       I wasn`t about to be defeated, though, so I raised my cup of coffee in a toast to her (which is a really funny phrase when you think abou... ahh, forget it) and said, "Fare thee well, then, my Queen of the Vote! May your lines be long, the confusion plentiful, and the mood irascible! I go on to a far better place!"
       I walked off convinced that I`d lost her on the "thee". Schools these days, I swear.

       A few blocks later I reached the station, which was a maelstrom of chaos. I`d definitely exaggerated when I`d told that woman I`d gone to a better place.
       In fact, I`d say I downright lied. Eh, I probably wasn`t getting into heaven anyway. "Morning, Margie," I said, raising my glass   again, this time in greeting.
       She looked over her shoulder. "Where have you been, Adam? We went on the air fifteen minutes ago!"
       I thought about telling her about Harry and our secret meeting, but once more reminded myself that this was Harry and decided against it. "I got hung up. But, there`s a strong liklihood that you`ll want to name your firstborn `Adam` this afternoon."
       She gave me a skeptical look. "Why`s that?" she demanded.
       I grinned and slid past her. "That`d spoil the surprise," I said as I headed off towards my desk to drop off my coat and pick up my cheat-book.
       "I need you in studio A pronto, Adam," she called after me.
       "Relax," I yelled back. "Polls have only been open for a few hours. It`s too early to even have anything worthwhile to talk about."
       "Doesn`t matter," she argued. "The other guys have a full panel debate going on. We need to do the same. Get moving."
       Ah, the joys of televised journalism. "Do what the other guy`s doing", that seemed to be the motto. I remember when I suggested to Margie that we put on something the other networks weren`t doing. She wouldn`t speak to me for a week after that. Maybe I should suggest it again to get another bout of peace and quiet.
       I tossed my jacket onto my chair and set my coffee aside. Great, looked like Ziggy`d beaten me in and had already rifled through my papers. Just another mess to clean up. No donuts for me, either. A few minutes of searching through Ziggy`s mess yielded my notebook with everything I`d scribbled down for today.
       Just then-- speak of the devil-- Ziggy popped his head up over the cubicle. "Hey, Adam," he said.
       "Morning, Ziggy," I replied. "Needed something?" I gestured to my desk and all the papers strewn about.
       "Oh, yeah," he replied. "Margie needed the stats from the last election and I didn`t have them on hand. Couldn`t find yours, though."
       As if on cue, I bent over and opened the drawer I`d cleverly labeled "Statistics". I grabbed the folder with the information Ziggy needed and tossed it to him.
       "Oh, hey," Ziggy said. "Thanks. You`re a life-saver."
       I certainly felt that I`d earned a few minutes rest and sat down, grabbing my coffee again. "So, Zig, what`s happening this morning?"
       "Well," he replied, "polls haven`t been open that long. Not a big turnout so far for us to base any predictions on. Early exit polling suggests that this will be the Populists year, though."
       "Wonderful," I replied, sarcastically. Yeah, yeah, journalists and impartiality and all that. Heard it before. Can`t help it, though, I dislike who I dislike. "Key races?" I pressed.
       Ziggy shrugged. "Things could change between now and tonight, but looks like Jepherson`s pulling ahead of Giorgio, Lane is inching past Parkhurst, and Yaeger is maintaining a lead over Hayter."
       "I tell you, if Lane beats Parkhurst my faith in politics will be officially dead and buried," I scowled. I mean, really. The woman had been such an incompetent senator that a paper bag could do a better job.
       I silently wondered for the umpteenth time why it was that Margie couldn`t trust me to be impartial on-air. One of life`s greater mysteries, I guess.
       I snatched my notebook and stood up. "Well, guess I`d better go do something before Margie decides to see if heads really can roll."
       "Yeah," Ziggy said, clutching the folder. "I should get these to her, too. See ya in a few, Adam."
       "You, too, Ziggy."
       I made my way towards the studio. Overhead, fastened to the ceiling, were various television sets all tuned to our lovely little station.
       "...pick-up seats, I`m telling you," one of our commentators was saying.
       "With all due respect," another retorted, "you`re living in a fantasy world. I can only assume it`s because the rent is to-die-for. The people have had Conservatives in power, it`s time for a change and the voters realize this. They want representation and that`s why we`ll see a heavy percentage of Conservative seats go to the Populists."
       "Are you suggesting that they aren`t being represented by Conservatives? Look, the fact of the matter is that if there`s an overwhelming majority of Conservatives in power it`s because the voters put them there. For you to suggest that you know what they want better than they, themselves, do is the height of arrogance. I`ve seen nothing to suggest that Tasnicans are unhappy with the way they`re being represented and that`s why the Conservatives will stay in power."
       Before the Populist could reply, our anchor broke in. "And we`ll have to leave it there as we break. For those of you just joining us, it`s Election Day in Tasnica, seventy-two seats in the Senate are up for grabs. Forty-seven of them held by the Conservative Party, twenty-five by the Populist Party. Which party will have control of the Senate tonight? Keep your dial tuned here for the answers all day! We`ll be right back."
       I took a sip of coffee and entered the studio. There, seated behind the table, the two commentators continued to argue while the anchor reclined, watching them with amusement. I headed over to the big board, which listed all of the major races and who we currently had in the lead. "Morning, Chris," I said, sliding the dot next to Lane over to Parkhurst.
       Chris didn`t miss a beat and was moving it back as she said, "Good morning to you, too, Adam."
       "She`ll lose," I told her.
       "Not according to the exit polls," she countered.
       "Those numbers are soft," I argued. I pointed over at the table with my notebook. "They do know the cameras are off, don`t they?"
       She smiled. "Zack handled the booking and apparently didn`t know that these two hate each others` guts. Margie was furious but didn`t have anyone else to put on, so she had to go with them."
       "Looked like good TV to me," I replied. "So, how`s Williams` race going?"
       She checked the board and then the clipboard in front of her. "Right now he`s down by six points."
       "You sure?" I asked. What could Harry have to tell me about a losing candidate?
       "These numbers are only thirty minutes old, so I`m reasonably sure."
       "Williams` supporters generally vote in the morning, though. Think he`ll gain ground as the day goes on?" I asked.
       She shook her head and said, "If I were a betting woman, I`d call this race right now. Williams is out."
       "Hmm... well, thanks," I said. Just then we came back from commercial. I don`t know how, but our anchor, Jim Ferro, had somehow managed to silence the bickerers.
       "We`re back and it`s Election Day in Tasnica!" he said. He turned to his guests. "Gentlemen, I`d like to turn your attention to one of the key Senate races of the day and that`s Ronald Jepherson running against incumbent Alexei Giorgio. How would you handicap them?"
       "Well, Jim," the Conservative said, "Giorgio`s district is traditionally conservative and he`s been a Senator who has endeared himself to his constituency. He`s run a strong campaign with next to no negativity directed towards his opponent and I think the people admire that and will vote him back into office."
       "How can you say that?" the Populist shot back. "Giorgio`s campaign has been nothing but negative. Did you miss where he suggested that Jepherson was incompetent because he`d never held public office before and had never served in the military? Since when has that been a measure of competence?"
       "That is a legitimate concern for him to raise," the other retorted. "Someone who is experienced in dealing with the Senate is far more likely to get things done than someone coming in with starry eyes and..."
       "Sure, attack him," the Populist interrupted. "I`d expect no more from the members of your party."
       "You seem to forget that we`re all Tasnican," was the Conservative`s reply. "Your continued demonization of..."
       "Gentlemen, we`re straying off of the subject of Jepherson and Giorgio," Jim interjected. The two commentators stared at him in silence for a few seconds.
       "Giorgio," the Conservative said.
       "Jepherson," the Populist said.
       At that point I`d had enough. There`s only so much of this you can take, even on the inside. So, I busied myself with my job, crunching numbers, helping Chris update the big board, and feeding Jim and the others figures. It`s always tedious work, but it`s a living. I couldn`t wait until this whole election was over, though. Like the debate between the commentators, there`s only so much a guy can take. Give me some hard news like a bank robbery, car chase, or something. Maybe something about a kid getting stung by a bee and finding he can fly.
       Heh. Actually, that`d be pretty cool. "The Killer Bee!" And he`d have an arch-nemesis named "Bug Spray!" I should copyright that before somebody else does.
       "Hayter`s catching up to Yaeger," Ziggy said, coming up behind us. "He`s closed the gap by five points in the last twenty minutes."
       "You`re kidding," I said. "I thought Hayter shot himself in the foot with that anti-Celiose statement last week."
       Ziggy shrugged. "That damage control must have taken."
       I snorted. Damage control. They called saying, "I was talking about some other Celiose" damage control? That man deserved to be beaten badly and his staff needed to be forced into homelessness for their incompetence. No, you know what? Let`s make a new state and make them live in it under every single one of Hayter`s policies. Let the punishment fit the crime.
       "It`s probably just a momentary spike," Chris rationalized. "We`ll have to keep an eye on it, though." She moved the dot next to Yaeger`s name over to the space between the two.
       "Hey, come on," I said. "He`s closing the gap, he`s not ahead."
       "We still need to watch it," Chris said.
       I hate it when she`s right. I glanced at my watch and noticed that half the day had gone by already. Who knew time could go by so quickly when you`re forced to listen to two people argue over politics in the background? I sure didn`t. In fact, I was certain that time would slow to a crawl.
       "Time for lunch," I said, standing up.
       "Oh, really?" Chris said, surprised. "Wow. Okay, let`s break, then."
       "Will you guys be okay for awhile?" I asked. "I`ve got to run and meet someone. It won`t be long."
       Ziggy frowned. "Margie won`t like this."
       I flashed him one of my smiles. "She`ll love it, trust me."
       "Well," Ziggy said, "if you`re sure."
       I gave him a pat before swinging by my cubicle to pick up my jacket. Then, I was out the door and on my way to Avers Park. I just hoped Harry was there and that his information was good.

       I made it to Avers Park in record time and scanned the crowd for Harry. Plenty of people there, but no sign of him. Rationalizing to myself that I did make it here rather fast and Harry could just be on his way, I headed on over to a hot dog vendor and purchased my lunch with what Harry hadn`t talked me out of. Food in hand, I began to look for an empty park bench.
       As it turned out, all of them were occupied. Maybe I should have taken the time to learn where all the candidates stood on park benches. Of course, that would have invited far too many, "We sit on park benches" jokes.
       I wasn`t about to eat my hot dog standing up, though, and slid into an empty space next to some kid, probably in college. "Hey there," I said. "Nice day, isn`t it?"
       The kid just grunted noncommittally and stared at me out of the corner of his eye.
       "Oh kay," I nodded, once more scanning the crowd for Harry. I swear, if he doesn`t show up, I`ll hit him so hard his head will spin. I devoured my lunch in silence and still no Harry. Well, at least he was true to form. He took my money and ran, probably wouldn`t resurface until he needed more. The more time passed, the more I became certain that Harry had never, in actuality, told me he worked for Williams because he didn`t. I took some consolation over the fact that he`d actually had to pick up a newspaper to learn a candidate`s name. Then again, maybe he`d just picked a name at random and gotten lucky.
       I checked my watch and saw I had a few more minutes to kill and does anybody know a better way to spend time than by annoying college kids?
       "So, kid," I said. Maybe calling him that would yield a better response. "You vote yet?"
       Much to my delight, he took the bait. Although the answer wasn`t all that surprising. "I`m not voting."
       Well, naturally, having such a vested interest in the thing as I did, I couldn`t let that slide. "And why not?"
       The kid shrugged. "Politics are corrupt. I`m not contributing to it."
       "Politicians are corrupt," I corrected him. "And, even then only a few."
       "Whatever," he dismissed.
       "How does not voting not contribute to corruption, though?" I was honestly dying to know. Warped logic is always fascinating.
       The kid sat up straighter. "It sends the message that I don`t like the way things are and want them changed."
       I laughed and wished I`d one GP for every time someone tried using that excuse. "That doesn`t send a message, at least not to the politicians. It just shows you don`t care."
       "Well, I don`t," the kid argued.
       I had him. "If you don`t care, then why send a message?"
       Yep, I had him, blank look and all. Surprisingly, he tried to save face. I`d just expected him to walk off in a huff. "When they don`t have anybody I`d support, I don`t care. If they did, I would. So, I`m sending them a message."
       I sat up straighter and brushed my nose with my thumb to loosen some crumbs that were resting there. "I already covered that, the only message you`re sending is that you`re fine with the way things are."
       "I`m not."
       "So, vote out the guy in office to show them that," I told him.
       "The other guy isn`t any better," he said.
       I shrugged. "Then, vote for the other other guy. Or write in your own candidate. The point is, just vote. Unless you care enough to change something, you won`t change it."
       "Listen, buddy, I didn`t come here to get a lecture. You sound like some afternoon special."
       I smiled. Well, I had to concede that much. But, it was hard to tackle this subject without coming across that way. "Sorry," I said. "Just a subject very near and dear to me. My name`s Adam Johannson. I work downtown covering everything having to do with these elections."
       "Great," the kid replied. Then, after a moment`s pause, added, "The name`s Tim. Tim Grey."
       I checked my watch again. Margie could wait, getting this vote was what was important. "So, where do you stand on the issues, Tim?" I asked.
       He shrugged. "I dunno. Populist, I guess."
       Oh, wound me. Straight through the heart.
       "So, why aren`t you voting for the Populist?"
       "I told you, I`m not vot..."
       I held up a hand. "Right, right, right. Let`s just pretend for a moment that you are, though. If you were going into the voting booth right now, why wouldn`t you vote for the Populist?"
       Tim shook his head. "My dad used to work for him. He got fired."
       "Ah, personal," I said. "Okay, and why not the Conservative?"
       "He`s corrupt," Tim replied, plainly.
       "Okay. And the others?"
       He shrugged. "I dunno, never looked into them."
       "Why not?"
       "Because I don`t..."
       "Don`t care," I finished for him. "Well, Tim, you`re never going to change anything by keeping silent. If you don`t like the way things are, then you have no one to blame but yourself. If everyone who felt like you do got out and voted, why, you could change the very face of Tasnica."
       Tim snorted. "I doubt it."
       I spread my hands. "So, you might as well not try?"
       "I don`t know."
       "Well, that`s what you`re doing," I pointed out.
       "Look," he said, exasperatedly. "If I promise to go and vote, will you leave me alone?"
       I grinned. "You`d do that just to get rid of me?" I was touched.
       "Yes!" he said.
       "Deal," I said, grabbing his hand. "You go vote. Polling place is that way," I pointed down the street.
       He heaved a sigh and said, "Fine," before standing up.
       As he retreated down the street, I called after him, "Nice talking with you, Tim!"
       He just held up a hand over his shoulder. I should probably be thankful that I was too far away to see if it was merely a rude gesture.
       I gave the park one more scan-- still no sign of Harry-- then, headed back for the station. Time to brace myself for the long night.

       "And the polls have closed!" Jim announced on the air. Chris, Ziggy, and I were all on the phone, digesting numbers, making notes, trying to figure out who would come out on top. Ironically, Giorgio and Jepherson would probably be the first one we would call.
       "Well, gentlemen," Jim said, "polls have closed, we`ve been waiting for the results, and indicators are that it`s a pretty even split between the Conservatives and the Populists. Care to make any last minute predictions?"
       The Conservative and Populist looked at each other, then repeated their initial predictions:
       "Giorgio."
       "Jepherson."
       Margie was a genius for keeping these guys on all day.
               Speak of the devil. "What sort of numbers do you have coming in?" Margie asked us.
       "Overwhelmingly in favor of Jepherson," I said. "We`re talking thirty point split here."
       "I`ve got that, too," Ziggy confirmed.
       "It would literally have to take a miracle for Giorgio to win," I added.
       Margie stood up straighter. "No one`s made a call yet." I could tell she was warring with herself over whether or not to make the call on-air.
       "I`m serious, Margie," I said, trying to help her out. "We`re talking an honest-to-goodness miracle." I wasn`t happy about it, but I could read numbers. Jepherson had pulled out a win.
       She looked at the big board one last time, then nodded. "Okay." She spoke through the microphone to Jim, who then immediately made the announcement.
       "Well, folks, results are in and we`re now projecting that Ronald Jepherson has won his race against incumbent Alexei Giorgio. The Populist Party has gained their first seat of the night."
       The Populist commentator smirked at the Conservative, who immediately launched into a long diatribe over how that seat didn`t matter, anyway.
       Me, I went back to crunching numbers.
       About twenty minutes later, the other networks made the same call. Twenty minutes after that, Jepherson was declaring victory.
       "It is said that `Great men have reaching hands`," Jepherson was saying to his followers. His lambs. "So, too, do great nations!"
       Why do politicians get away with stating the obvious?
       "And Tasnica is a great nation. Indeed, the greatest nation in the entire Web! And because we are so great, we must temper ourselves. Th` abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power. I promise to you, as your new Senator, that I will go to the Senate and I will argue against our expansionist ways! I will argue against using our military might to impose our will upon lesser countries!"
       Liar, liar, pants on fire.
       "It is excellent," Jepherson was now shouting amid cheers and applause, "to have a giant`s strength, but it is tyrannous to use it like a giant!" The crowd erupted. "I will fight for peace in our lifetime!" he roared. "Thank you all!"
       He was lying through his teeth. The first time the possibility of war came before him, as soon as he realized he`d get first pick of any captured land to use as a vacation spot, he`d be on board in a heartbeat.
       I went back to my work.

       A few hours later, the story broke. Earlier, there had been an accident. That high speed car chase I`d wished for had apparently happened and the pursued had chosen to swerve into a line of people waiting to cast their votes. No additional information was released, just that some people had died.
       Suddenly, the entire station had sobered up. Even our two commentators were being civil with one another.
       "Will this have any legal ramifications on today`s election?" Jim asked them. "Surely, the candidate that loses could make the case that the police sealing off that polling area could have taken away votes from them."
       "Well, Jim," one of them said, "that argument could be made very easily, absolutely. However, using such a tragedy as a means of political gain would very much be a means of committing political suicide. Neither candidate would be willing to make such an accusation, no matter the stake."
       "I agree," the other said. "This hits too close to home to use for political advantage and the candidates will stay clear."
       "What if it comes down to control of the Senate, though?" Jim pressed. "What if this one seat became the swing-seat and whichever party controlled it also controlled the Senate? Would the gain outweigh the risk in that instance?"
       "Well," the Conservative said, "I highly doubt that tonight will come down to one seat. However, I still don`t think that the gain would be enough for a party to risk using the situation."
       "I don`t know," the Populist chimed in. "I think if control was at stake, the Conservative Party might make the claim. The Populists would, of course, be appalled..."
       "Appalled that they didn`t get there first, you mean," the Conservative retorted.
       I sighed. It was good while it lasted.

       A couple of minutes later we were ready to predict the winner of the Yaeger/Hayter race. Despite Hayter closing the gap a little, Yaeger had managed to maintain his lead and the Celiose-hater was given the boot.
       "Well, Jim, this certainly comes as no surprise," the Conservative was saying. "Yaeger is well-liked by his constituency, he`s long been a distinguished statesman, and after Hayter`s fatal anti-Celiose blunder, his victory was all but assured."
       "As much as I`d prefer the outcome were different," the Populist chimed in, "I have to admit that this was always Yaeger`s race. Hayter`s campaign was full of political blunders, one of which-- the slam against Celiose-- my esteemed colleague has already brought up. He never had any chance and I`m ashamed that the Populists couldn`t find anyone better to pit against Yaeger."
       We immediately broke away to Yaeger`s victory speech.
       "My fellow Tasnicans!" he proclaimed. "The will of the people has been heard and I will be returning once more to our great Senate!" The supporters cheered and I couldn`t help but clap as well. I`d voted for Yaeger, afterall.
       "I have made numerous statements of what it is I intend to accomplish this term," he went on. "In the interest of brevity, I will not repeat it all again tonight. I will say only that we, as Tasnicans, know what we are, but know not what we may be. I pledge to you that I will help us find out. That I will find a way to put aside party affiliation, a way to put aside Conservatives and Populists, and bring us together with the one thing that unifies us all: that we are Tasnicans! That we are one! I will not rest until that dream is realized! Thank you all!"
       Short and sweet, I knew there was a reason he`d gotten my vote.
       Once we left the speech, Jim made an announcement.
       "Earlier tonight we reported to you that an accident had occurred at a polling station in the city. The victims were, apparently, standing in line waiting to cast their votes in the Tasnican elections. We have now received official confirmation from law enforcement that there were six casualties and numerous injuries involved. According to our sources, the victims were people by the names of Jan deMar, Jackson Greer, Sean Rogers, Patricia Drake, Timothy Grey, and Barbara Gadon. We`re not sure why authorities have released the names so early, perhaps they`ve already had time to notify the families. Nonetheless, we`ll be keeping an eye on this situation and will bring you new developments as they happen. Now, about Senator Yaeger`s victory..."
       I was frozen in place. Timothy Grey? Nah, it couldn`t be the same kid. It wouldn`t be. No god would kill a kid I convinced to give a hoot. Besides, Tim had probably lied to me and had gone home after the park. He didn`t go vote. He wouldn`t have been standing in line.
       "Where did the accident happen, again?" I asked Ziggy.
       Ziggy checked a piece of paper, then said, "Polling place near here. Umm... looks like it was down from Avers Park. Why?"
       I rested my head in my hands. There are no words to describe what I was feeling. If there were, I didn`t think I wanted to know them. I`d convinced an apathetic kid to go vote and it killed him. I killed him. I...
       I didn`t know what to think, what to do, what to... anything. I just didn`t.
       I looked over at Jim and our commentators, rattling on about the chances of other candidates and who would control what and lose what and gain what and everything inbetween. I thought I was going to be sick.
       "Hey, Adam, you okay?" Ziggy asked. "You don`t look so well."
       "Huh?" I said, starting. "I`m, I... I`ve got to go." I stood up.
       "Go?" Chris repeated. "What do you mean? We`ve still got work to do."
       I shook my head. "I can`t. I..." How do you explain something like this? "I just can`t. Tell Margie I`m sorry, but I knew someone in the accident and... I just had to go."
       "I... I`m so sorry, Adam," Chris offered. "If there`s anything I can do, just..."
       "I`ll let you know," I said, pulling on my coat. "Good luck here."
       Without a second glance, I was out the door and on the streets. The fresh air made me feel somewhat better, but not much. I honestly didn`t know what to do. I just... Was it worth it? Was it?
       I looked to the sky. Why? Why?

       I don`t know how long I walked around the city, but it was apparently long enough for the rest of the races to be called. The Conservatives had retained control of the Senate. That didn`t seem all that important, though. This morning, I would have been elated, but now I just felt guilty of that man. Guilty of his enthusiasm for politics. Guilty for his actions. For his meddling. Overall, just plain guilty.
       I sat on the edge of my bed, contemplating whether or not I wanted to go to sleep. There was my blanket, still slightly off-kilter from my early morning rearrangement. It occurred to me that if I hadn`t laid there, hadn`t put off getting up, if I`d shaved faster, if I`d gotten out of the apartment faster... if I`d been faster... then, I`d have missed Harry, wouldn`t have given him money, wouldn`t have heard his proposition, wouldn`t have been at Avers Park, and wouldn`t have met Tim. I wouldn`t have sent a boy to his death.
       It seemed wrong that whether or not one stayed in bed should decide whether or not another lives or dies.
       I fell back onto my pillow.
       Why did life have to be so complicated?