Pita gingerly stepped around seated orks, trying to make her way to the front, where the woman with the megaphone stood. The closer she got, the more tightly people were packed. She finally squeezed herself in a few meters from the front, and sat down between two burly men. The woman had begun a speech—Pita caught the words "priorities." "inadequate presence." and "Lone Star procedures." She waited for a break in the tirade, occasionally waving a hand and at the same time screwing up her courage. She hoped that the committee member would let her speak. She wanted to tell everyone how the Lone Star cops had gunned down her chummers. It would be even better than going on trid—here, the audience was live. Carla and Masaki at KKRU might have strung her along with false promises to do a news story on her friends. But these people—these orks—would listen. If only Pita could catch the woman’s eye . . .