Panting, Jeb squatted in the dark, hearing the booming voice just above him, only slightly muffled. As Jeb shoved the Monitex up against the crack in the boards over him, the speaker's voice came to him strongly, "Now, fellers, you're all precinct captains and it's a helluva empty title to have when your party is outa power. But if we get back on the gravy train—well, need I say more?"
A muffled roar from the audience made Jeb crouch worriedly.
"Now we're gonna take this election, see? I want all you loyal party workers...."
Bong!
Howls of rage shook the walls and reverberated through to Jeb as the political hacks recognized the sound and understood that somewhere a Monitex had automatically recorded the voice vibration pattern of the speaker in a Verbal Copyright violation.
"Kill the dirty spy!" screamed the speaker.
Bong! went the Monitex.
"Lynch him!"
In three minutes of unguarded outrage, Jeb had recorded ten thousand credits in violations which the speakers never could escape because, like fingerprints, all voice patterns were registered by the government.