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Robert Golden and Paul Prescott had their hands full. Thousands of AARP members were panicked, flooding their offices with communications, wanting assurances that the government would put a stop to this violence once and for all, saying that the idea of a voting age limit was ridiculous and that even the talk of it had to stop.

There were some editorials that agreed with Max Leonard and said the idea of an age limit should be considered, or that maybe the voting age should be lowered to fifteen, a gesture that would even out the electorate. But that was going to go nowhere. The power of the older generation was too great. And just to make sure, Paul Prescott went into action.

Paul went to Congress and lobbied himself. Stopping by the offices of the influential senators and congressmen, he made it clear that anyone who would even entertain the idea of putting a limit on voting might as well clean out their desks now. Not only would it never get passed, but simply bringing it up would assure that person a one-way ticket back to his or her district. And no one argued with him. They knew he was right. Still, Paul wanted more than just assurance. He wanted speeches on the floor of the House and Senate about how the oldest Americans were national treasures. About how with age comes respect and how if older people could not be assured a good life, then life itself would lose meaning.

Paul found his greatest support in Stanley Markum. Senator Markum, who was consistently elected by older Americans, not only found what Max Leonard said reprehensible, he believed that giving Leonard center stage was criminal and blamed it squarely on the President.

Markum gave a speech on the Senate floor that was one of his best. He used phrases like “God wants man to live as long as he can, that is why he gave us the knowledge to do so,” and, “What should we do next? Get rid of all the species that live a long and healthy life? Maybe we should kill all the turtles and chop down the redwoods.” It was meaningless, but it sounded great and it stuck. It was forwarded all over cyberspace. So much so that Shen Li called his father-in-law to congratulate him on such a wonderful sound bite.

“That was just great, Dad,” as Li now called Markum. “I love the turtle line.”

“Did it get good play out there?”

“Yes. Everywhere. And what I agree with the most is that Bernstein should have never spoken to that guy. That made us seem weak.”

It was funny, after Shen married Laura and after he made such an impact in California, he started to use “we” and “us” whenever he talked about America. He had adopted the country completely, even though China still considered him one of its greatest citizens.

As time went on Li spoke less and less Chinese, unless he was talking to others from China who were rebuilding the new city. Initially, he would mix the two languages, using phrases in Chinese when he could think of nothing comparable in English, but Laura gently guided him toward an English-only mind-set. She would say, “They love you, but if you want them to think of you as their own, speak English.” And of course, as with everything else, she was right.

* * *

Kathy Bernard stayed home for a full week. She was due time off and had been planning to take it in a few months, but she asked Clyde Folsom if she could have it now instead. He wanted no press at his place of business and was more than happy to oblige. If she were not as good a saleswoman as she was, he would have let her go. But Kathy was his best and, personally, Clyde liked her more than his own children. He believed her when she said she had no involvement. Unfortunately, the FBI was not as convinced.

On a Tuesday morning, when Kathy was making herself some cereal and fruit, there was a knock at the door. She looked at the monitor and saw three men standing outside. One was a uniformed policeman; the other two were plainclothes. She pressed the button and asked what they wanted. They said she needed to open the door. She said she was not dressed and asked if they could come back later.