Part 44 (2/2)

”Outcry' has gone platinum.”

”Oh, Bri. That's marvelous.”

”It's more than marvelous. I was right.” He pulled her by the shoulders

until she sat beside him. ”People are listening, really listening.

”Outcry' has become like an anthem for the antiwar movement. It's

making a difference.” He didn't hear the faint desperation in his voice,

the desperation of a man trying to convince himself ”We're going to

release another single from the alb.u.m.. ”Love Lost,' I think, though

Pete's muttering about it not being commercial enough.”

”It's so sad.”

”That's the point.” The words snapped out, and he bit off the impatient

rest to continue more calmly. ”I'd like to pipe it into Parliament and

the Pentagon and the U.N., all those places where the smug, fat b.a.s.t.a.r.ds

make decisions. We need to do something, Bev. If people listen to me

because I have hit records, then I have to make sure I have something

important to say.”

IN mE PEWHOUSE HE'D RENMD in the heart of L.A., Pete Page sat at his

desk and considered the possibilities. Like Brian, he was delighted

with ”Outcry”'s success. With him it was a matter of sales generated

more than social conscience. But that's what they paid him for.

As he had predicted only three years before, Brian and the others were

very rich. He was going to see to it that they all became a great deal

richer.

Their music was sterling. He had known that since he'd listened to

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