Jonathan still had a bit of time to kill until the debate started. As the centre of the venerable old courtroom was empty, he wandered, hands buried deep in the pockets of his robes, up to the benches surrounding the, as it were, political arena. A few of his fellow Independent campaigners were assembled there as well, chatting among themselves. He leaned up against the railing and looked down, humming quietly to himself.

He wasn't, to his surprise, at all nervous. In a few minutes, he was going to ask the two candidates some questions of high importance, but he still felt strangely calm. On the other hand, it wasn't him who had to corkscrew his way around the questions, that was the politicians' job. And when it came down to it, there was always the possibility of a gaffe barrage from one of them. Or, if he was really lucky, from both.