December 17
Overlooking Charlotte Amalie,
St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands
"You must feel pretty good. Pulitzer Prize. Half of the writing awards for last year, nomination for Man of the Year."
"The steaks are burning." The hype had been too much. Scott alone had to carry forward the standard. He had become expected to lead a movement of protest and dissent. Despite his pleas, his neutrality as a reporter was in constant danger of compro- mise.
"It's kind of strange talking to a living legend."
Scott's deeply tanned body and lighter hair was quite a contrast to the sickly paleness of New Yorkers in winter. "Get the sprit- zer, water the coals and then fuck yourself."
"Isn't this what you wanted?" Tyrone scanned the exquisite view from the estate sized homestead overlooking Charlotte Amalie Harbor on St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands. The safe enclosed harbor housed three cruise ships, but the hundreds of sailboats in the clear Caribbean dominated the seascape.
After the last year, Scott had decided to finally take time off for a proper honeymoon. He and Sonja elected to spend an extend- ed holiday on St. Thomas, in a rented house with a cook and a maid and a diving pool and a satellite dish and all of the lux- uries of stateside living without the residual headaches.
Their head over heels romance surprised no one but themselves and they both preferred to let the past stay a part of the past. Scott decided quickly to take Sonja at her word. Her past was her past, and he had to not let it bother him or they would have no future. Even if he was one of her jobs for a short while.
Scott's name was in constant demand as a result of his expos of Homosoto and the hackers. Fame was something Scott had not wanted specifically. He had imagined himself the great transla- tor, making the cacophony of incomprehensible technical polysyl- labics intelligible to 'everyman'. He had not planned for fame; merely another demand on his time, his freedom and his creativi- ty.
"What I wanted was a break." Scott poked at the steaks. In the pool Arlene Duncan and Sonja kicked their feet and chattered aimlessly. The perfect respite. The Times made Scott the most generous tenure offers in a generation of writers, and Scott recognized the fairness of the offers. It was not now, nor had it ever been a question of money, though.