Larry Niven - Flash crowd

"That sounds like a good idea," she said surprisingly. "Gives you a chance to give your side of the story. You didn't really cause the mall riot, did you?"

"No!. . No. Janice, he's just too damn good. He'd make mincemeat of me. By the time he got through I'd be The Man Who Caused the Mall Riot in every English-speaking country in the world, and some others, too, because he gets translations-"

"He's just a commentator."

Jerryberry started to laugh.

"He makes it look so easy," he said. "A hundred million eyes out there, watching him, and he knows it. Have you ever seen him self-conscious? Have you ever heard him at a loss for words? My dad used to say it about writing, but it's true for Wash Evans. The hardest trick in the world is to make it look easy, so easy that any clod thinks he can do it just as well.

"Hell, I know what caused the mall riot. The news program, yes. He's right, there. But the long-distance displacement booth did it, too. Control those, and we could stop that kind of riot from ever happening again.

But what could I tell Wash Evans about it? What do I know about displacement booths?"

"Well, what do you know?"

Jerryberry Jansen looked into his coffee cup for a long time. Presently he said, "I know how to find out things. I know how to find out who knows most about what and then go ask. Legwork. They hammered at it in the journalism classes. I know legwork."

He looked up and met her eyes. Then he lunged across the table to reach the phone.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Jansen. Changed your mind?"

"Yes, but-"

"Good, good! I'll put you through to-"

"Yes, but!"

"Oh. Okay, go ahead."

"I want some time to do some research."

"Now, damn it, Jensen, you know that time is just what we don't have! Old news is no news. What kind of research?"

"Displacement booths."

"Why that? Never mind; it's your business. How much time?"

"How much can you afford?"

"Damn little."

"Bailey, C.B.A. upped my price to four thousand this morning. How come?"

"You didn't see it? It's on every screen in the country. The rioters broke through the police line. They've got a good section of Venice now, and there are about twice as many of them, because the police didn't shut down the displacement booths in the area until about twenty minutes too late. Twenty minutes!" Bailey seemed actually to be grinding his teeth. "We held off reporting the breakthrough until they could do it. We did. A.B. S. reported it live on all stations. That's where all the new rioters came from."

"Then. . it looks like the mall riot is going to last a little longer."

"That it does. And you want more time. Things are working out, aren't they?" Then, "Sorry. Those A.B.S. bastards. How much time do you want?"

"As much as I can get. A week."

"You've got to be kidding. You maybe can get twenty-four hours, only I can't make the decision. Why don't you talk to Evans himself?"

"Fine. Put him on."

The teevee went on hold. Pale-blue flow patterns floated upward in what had become a twenty-inch Kaleidoscope. Waiting, Jerryberry said, "If this riot gets any bigger, I could be more famous than Hitler."

Janice set his coffee beside him. She said, "Or Mrs. O'Leary's cow."

The screen came on. "Jansen, can you get over here right now? Wash Evans wants to talk to you in person."

"Okay." Jerryberry clicked off. He felt a thrumming inside him. . as if he felt the motion of the world, and the world were spinning faster and faster. Surely things were happening fast….

Janice said, "No lost weekend."

"Not yet, love. Have you any idea what you've let me in for? I may not sleep for days. I'll have to find out what teleportation is, what it does.

where do I start?"

"Wash Evans. You'd better get moving."

"Right." He bolted his coffee in three swift gulps. "Thanks. Thanks for coming over, thanks for jarring me off the dime. We'll see how it works out." He went, pulling on a coat.

Wash Evans was five feet four inches tall. People sometimes forgot that size was invisible in a teevee close-up. In the middle of a televised interview, when the camera was flashing back and forth between two angry faces, then the deep, sure voice and the dark, mobile, expressive face of Wash Evans could be devastatingly convincing.

Wash Evans looked up at Jerryberry Jansen and said, "I've been wondering if I owe you an apology."

"Take your time," said Jerryberry. He finished buttoning his coat.

"I don't. Fact is, I psyched out the mall riot as best I knew how, and I think I did it right. I didn't tell the great unwashed public you caused it all. I just told it like it happened."

"You left some things out."

"All right, now we've got something to talk about. Sit down." They sat. Their faces were level~ now. Jerryberry said, "This present conversation is not for publication and is not to be considered an interview. I have an interview to sell. I don't want to undercut myself."

"I accept your terms on behalf of the network. We'll give you a tape of this conversation."

"I'm making my own." Jerryberry tapped his inside pocket, which clicked.

Wash Evans grinned. "Of course you are, my child. Now, what did I miss?"

"Displacement booths."

"Well, sure. If the booths had been cut off earlier-"

"If the booths didn't exist."

"You're kidding. No, you're not. Jansen, that's a wishing horse. Displacement booths are here to stay."

"I know. But think about this. Newstapers have been around longer than displacement booths. Roving newstapers, like me-we've been using the booths since they were invented."

"So?"

"Why didn't the mall riot happen earlier?"

"I see what you mean. Hmm. The airport booths?"

"Jansen, are you actually going to face the great unwashed teevee public and tell them to give up long-distance displacement booths?"

"No. I.. don't know just what I have in mind. That's why I want some time. I want to know more."

"Uh-huh," said Evans, and waited.

Jerryberry said, "Turn it around. Are you going to try to talk the public into giving up news programs?"

"No. Maybe to put some restrictions on newstaping practices. We're too fast these days. A machine won't work without friction. Neither does a civilization. . But we'd ruin the networks, wouldn't we?"

"You'd cut your own throat."

"Oh, I'd be out." Evans mashed out a cigarette. "Take away the news broadcasts, and they wouldn't have anything left to sell but educational teevee. Nothing to sell but toys and breakfast cereal. Jansen, I don't know."

"Good," said Jerryberry.

"You question my dispassionate judgment?" Evans chuckled in his throat. "I'm on both sides. Suppose we do an interview live, at ten tonight. That'll give you twelve hours-"

"Twelve hours!"

"That's enough, isn't it? You want to research teleportation. I want to get this in while people are still interested in the riot. Not just for the ratings,but because we both have something to say." Jerryberry tried to interrupt, but Evans overrode him. "We'll advance you a thousand, and three more if we do the interview. Nothing if we don't. That'll get you back on time."

Jerryberry accepted it. "One thing. Can you make Bailey forget to cancel my C.B.A. card for a while? I may have to do a lot of traveling."

"I'll tell him. I don't know if he'll do it."

He flicked in at Los Angeles International, off-center in a long curved row of displacement booths: upright glass cylinders with rounded tops, no different from the booths on any street corner. On the opposite wall, a good distance away, large red letters said "TWA." He stood a moment, thinking. Then he dialed again.

He was home, at the Shady Rest. He dialed again.

He was near the end of the row-a different row, with no curve to it. And the opposite wall bore the emblem of United.