Benedetto still slept, but Zorchi joined us as we watched it.
The announcer, face stamped with the careful blend of gravity and confidence that marks tele-casters all over the world, was saying: "Late word on the bomb exploded over the North Atlantic indicates that there is some danger that radioactive ash may be carried to this area. The danger zones are now being mapped and surveyed, and residents of all such sections will be evacuated or placed in deep sleep until the danger is over.
"Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards from this explosion. I repeat, Blue Bolt policies give you complete protection against all hazards from this explosion. Check your policies and be sure of your status. There is absolutely no risk for any person carrying the basic Blue Bolt minimum coverage or better."
I clicked off the set. "I wonder what the people in Shanghai are hearing tonight," I said.
Zorchi had only listened without comment, when I told him about the bomb that afternoon; he listened without comment now.
Rena said: "Tom, I've been wondering. You know, I—I don't have any insurance. Neither has my father, since we were canceled. And we're not the only ones without it, either."
I patted her hand. "We'll straighten this out," I promised. "You'll get your coverage back."