He turned his head back over his shoulder and looked at Jem.
"We'll be starting in a moment. How do you feel?"
Jem's smile was a dry-lipped grimace. "A little nervous. How about you, Joe?"
Kimmensen smiled back at him. "This is an old story to me, Jem. Besides, I'm not running." He clasped his hands in his lap and faced front again, forcing his fingers to keep still.
The surprisingly heavy crowd here in the plaza was all young people.
In a moment, the light flashed on above the microphone, and Kimmensen stood up and crossed the platform. There was a good amount of applause from the crowd, and Kimmensen smiled down at them. Then he lifted his eyes to the camera that had flown into position in front of and above him.
"Fellow citizens," he began, "as you know, I'm not running in this election." There was silence from the crowd. He'd half expected some sort of demonstration of disappointment—at least a perfunctory one.
There was none. Well, he'd about conceded this crowd of youngsters to Messerschmidt. It was the people at home who mattered.
"I'm here to introduce the candidate I think should be our next League President—Secretary Jem Bendix."
This time the crowd reacted. As Jem got up and bowed, and the other cameras focussed on him, there was a stir in the plaza, and one young voice broke in: "Why introduce him? Everybody knows him."