[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

shades of gray. Tuxedoes and evening gowns were the rule, though since
this was Los Angeles "formal" could include any color in the rainbow and
often did, depending on its wearer's profession. The Hollywood male
67
contingent boasted more ribbons and rhinestones than the gaudiest of the
female guests.
Circulating through this select gathering a very few Newcomer faces were
visible, not including the servers, security personnel, kitchen help, and
others who happened to be working as opposed to attending the gala. Kipling
was one of the select. He managed to thread his way unobtrusively through
the crowd toward his goal. None of the celebrants paid him the slightest
attention. He was simply another guest. The sight of a Newcomer in a tux
was no longer a novelty.
The crowd's attention was on the Mayor, who was holding forth from his
position at the speaker's table. Nobody minded the fact that instead of
directing his words at them he was speaking to the half dozen television
cameras lined up on the table's right. He would have been doing exactly the
same had he been pontificating at the opening of a new bowling alley. No
matter what their social status, Los Angeles audiences always shared one
thing in common: media sophistication.
"Our guest speaker tonight has done so much in his community and for his
community in such a short period of time," Hizzoner was declaring. "And I
must add that as the founder of the first Newcomer owned and operated
business to be incorporated in the state of California, he certainly has
Page 38
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
come a long ways in the last few years. Granted, though, not as far as he
came in the years before reaching Los Angeles."
It was a good line, and the audience was spared the necessity of laughing
politely. They liked the current Mayor. He was a lot more easygoing than
his predecessor, who'd been unlucky enough to preside over some botched
earthquake relief. The city preferred a laid-back style for its elected
officials. The Mayor was a relief, an antidote, a feel-good alternative to
the 7.3 that had smashed the San Gabriel Valley a year ago. Nobody paid
much attention to his real politics, though behind the smiling,
wisecracking veneer he seemed serious enough about his office.
As his rambling discourse held the attention of both the audience and the
TV cameras, Kipling slid into an empty
68
seat at the front table, then leaned over to whisper into the head of the
individual seated to his immediate right. The tall figure listened without
once changing his expression or taking his eyes off the Mayor. Occasionally
he would respond with the slightest of nods.
When he'd said all he had to say, Kipling straightened and joined everyone
else in listening to the Mayor. Leastwise, he looked intently in his
direction. Kipling actually had no interest in politics of any stripe,
human or Newcomer.
The Mayor was winding down. A few of the reporters were starting to look
bored and the last joke had drawn only a few chuckles instead of the
hoped-for big laugh. Like any good politico-performer the Mayor knew when
to quit a winner. So he ditched the rest of his speech and turned to his
left as he marshaled his concluding words.
"As Mayor of this great city, the greatest in the country, it gives me
great pleasure to introduce someone who has so readily made our city his
home, someone who has added greatly to its stature while adding
simultaneously to his own. Who has literally built something vital and
important out of nothing, and who has done so under the most trying and
stressful circumstances imaginable. Someone who has made all of us who live
here his friends." He gestured magnanimously with his right hand, and the
TV cameras genuflected approvingly.
"Ladies and gentlemen-William Harcourt."
Everyone seated at the tables and standing on the ballroom floor applauded
vigorously as the TV lights and ballroom spotlight swung away from the
Mayor to the newly designated doyen of media attention. Having been
forewarned, the camera people knew where to aim their autofocusing
equipment. The lenses came to rest on the outsized figure Kipling had been
whispering to moments earlier. Kipling tried to stay out of the lights. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]