"As I already told you several times, Ms. Wallace, I know no more than you do about what caused the crash at StarBridge Station. I suggest you contact the Security Chief at the station and speak to him about that." Despite the lateness of the hour, he was still in his office and had been there the entire day, except for one brief visit to check on Heather Farley where she was being kept under observation in the Academy's infirmary. His current caller, a reporter named Joan Wallace, must have graduated from the Inquisition School of Journalism, Rob thought wearily. She seemed convinced that if she asked him the same question enough times, he'd tell her what she wanted to know. Covering his eyes with his hand, glad that he'd politely declined to activate the visual portion of the call, giving the lateness of the hour as an excuse, Rob had a brief vision of himself bound to a stake, screaming "I recant!" while robed figures--all with the faces of the succession of reporters he'd spoken with during this endless day--marched around him, chanting and waving flaming torches.
