Bella rubbed her forehead. “I’m open to just about any option short of burning down Congress with everyone inside.”
“Well, maybe for fun. But that’s a hobby, not a strategy,” John added jokingly. Bella stuck her tongue out at him.
Bull patted her knee. “Much as I sympathize, we can’t hit this problem head on. The only choice I see is to be reactionary.”
“Obviously, my forte is going at the public angle,” Spin Doctor mused. “It’s true I haven’t had to do too much, since the Thulians have been doing our job for us, but I can certainly rev the old publicity machine up again. There certainly isn’t much else I can contribute.”
“What about if you go after the legal angle?” Bella asked suddenly. “Get public pressure behind laws to protect metas from exploitation, by the government or anyone else. Get us categorized as a public resource, maybe. They want to use laws to lock us up or conscript us? We’ll get in there first with laws to keep them from doing just that.”
“Oh, I like that,” Spin said, perking up. “I like that a great deal. I’ll get with our legal team and the ACLU, for starters, maybe bring in other groups as we see more options.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can almost see a PSA in my head right now…”
“I do not ever wish to find myself so trapped again,” Sera said unhappily. Her wing feathers were still somewhat “pine-coned” with stress. “How dare they take so much as a single hour away from us, an hour in which we could be missed, in which people could die?”
“S’alright, darlin’. They’re assholes, an’ they don’t know any better.” He sent as much reassurance as he could through their connection; she seemed to calm down slightly, but she was still very much aggravated. “Now, this is all well an’ good…but when push comes to shove, laws are just ink on paper. Some of those bastards, or at least bastards like ’em…they’ll do what they want, law or no law. Especially ones like that Agent Gibson.” John placed his hand over Sera’s, giving it a squeeze. “It’s good that y’all are tryin’ to get this done through the right channels…but it does bear keepin’ in mind that this might turn bloody at some point. An’ fast. Especially post-war.”
If we win, he left unsaid.
“If that day comes,” the Commissar intoned, “then it will being a day of reckoning unlike any those cretins have seen. No one threatens my comrades. Not ever again.”
Uncharacteristically, it was Bulwark that spoke up. “If it comes to that, Commissar,” he rumbled, “you will not be standing alone.”
INTERLUDE
* * *
Peekaboo
Mercedes Lackey and Dennis Lee
@rancbeast42 kept feeding me good stuff. Sometimes just a couple of links, sometimes as much as half a page. But of course, we had that whole parity issue going on. He knew plenty about me. I knew nothing about him.
On the other hand, he didn’t seem to understand I wasn’t your average superhacker. Sure he could, and did, hide himself. His IP address was probably changing all the time; that is seriously just not that hard to do. Plenty of motels leave “support” and “guest” open on their Wi-Fi routers, when they bother to encrypt at all; you just park in back and find a sweet spot, and there you go. And even if he was using his own rig, an anonymizing service fixes that. However…it doesn’t allow for the techno-shaman who can backtrace straight to the originating computer without even going through the internet.
So finally, when I was pretty sure I knew who it was, and just needed confirmation, I set everything up to fire on invocation and waited.
* * *
@rancbeast42: Got your ears on, Victrix?
Ha. That was what I was waiting for. With a flick of my fingers I invoked the process. Very convenient for me his firewall wasn’t set up for people like me.
@victoriavictrix: Sec, I’m in the middle of something.
Not a lie, old lad, I am in the middle of remote-hacking your…laptop. Very nice. Means there’s a camera and I won’t alert you by starting hard-drive reads to find out who you are.
@rancbeast42: Chop chop, lady. I’m on the clock.
I’ll just bet you are. Keeping me from getting a backtrace finished. Hello, camera. Let’s turn you on. Ah, how careless of you, this is not like you. You should have put a piece of tape over the lens. ID confirmed.
@victoriavictrix: Don’t worry about backtraces, Jack. You’re looking well.
He wasn’t startled. In fact, he smiled slightly. Just to make things fair, I put a little feed from my cam in the bottom right-hand corner of his screen, and wiggled my fingers at him. I was a little surprised when he wiggled his back.
@victoriavictrix: Please don’t cut the connection. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.
He kept up the poker face, no lid slamming or nervous sweat. Instead, he sat back in his seat a little, and gave my image a good long stare, which was a bit disorienting because it meant he wasn’t looking directly at the camera. Then he leaned forward again, fingers on the keyboard.
@rancbeast42: About time. We really don’t have much left to muck about with.
@rancbeast42: We’re going to need each other. I know I can trust you. I need to know if you feel the same.
Whew. One big worry ditched.
@victoriavictrix: Red trusts you. He’s generally not wrong, about people anyway. I’m in.
@rancbeast42: We’ve got things to do. Saving the world and whatnot. We can help each other with that.
@rancbeast42: But there’s something else I’ve got in the works. Something I need your help with. I’m sure you’ll be on board.
@victoriavictrix: F2F? Give me a time and place.
@rancbeast42: Not the best idea, but I don’t see much help for it. There are details I don’t trust even over secured channels.
I thought about this.
@victoriavictrix: I think I have a secure loc with no modern tech in it.
I sent him the details on how to get into that old ECHO safe spot that Ramona and Merc had used, and a potential time.
@rancbeast42: Good enough. Here’s what you should bring. And here’s what I’ll be bringing.
He wrote down two things. Two names, actually. The second I wasn’t terribly surprised by, but the first…
@victoriavictrix: Why her?
@rancbeast42: You said you trusted me. Time to prove it. See you soon.
The camera feed cut. I sat sucking on my lower lip. Interesting. Whatever Jack was up to…it was going to be slick. Red always said he was the brains of the bunch. He’d clearly anticipated that I was going to hack his computer and had been waiting for me to show my hand.
Red trusted him. Every instinct I had said that the best thing I could do was just hang on and follow instructions. Every instinct I had that wasn’t my usual paranoia said that he was smarter than me, and I wasn’t used to that.
“Instinct” is nothing more than our brains processing things so fast, in the background, that it feels as if the information is coming out of nowhere. But it’s not. It’s reasoned.
Jack could talk about trust all he wanted, but we were both gambling. He was in trouble, and short on time; it was very obvious. He was gambling that I would buy his story, his good intentions, and hoping like hell I would step in line. I was gambling that he wasn’t the two-faced bastard his scant files at ECHO portrayed him as. It made me wonder what he needed me for? And what he needed her for? He was clearly versed in unearthing intel of all shapes and sizes. It made me a bit nervous. I suppose I could have dug a little deeper, if I had the time to do so, but something told me I really could trust this enigmatic little man.
Hell, if the Mafia could work with ECHO, I sure as hell could work with Jack, someone who’d already proved he was ready to play ball nicely. Red had changed. Why not Jack?
Time to fish or cut bait. We were all out of options.
Yes indeed. Why her? I was very interested in finding out, so I cut out all the middlemen and went straight to the top.
INTERLUDE
/>
* * *
Breathing Underwater
Dennis Lee
Is this my life?
How long ago was it that I just trying to prove myself? That I was better, better than anyone? That I was just misunderstood? That if given a chance, I would rise to the occasion and demolish anyone that dared stand in my way? Not really what a hero would say, I guess. That’s okay. I never considered myself a hero. Just someone trying to smash all the naysayers into little itty bitty pieces. Just another meta with a chip on her shoulder, but one who knew what power meant.
What power could bring.
But it went all wrong. If ambition is a sin, then I’m a sinner. If being unable to accept defeat is a flaw, then I’m just another aberration. The truth is, I’ve always been able to know my limits. My problem lies in accepting them. Most of them, anyway. Some I’ve known for a long time, and they never really bothered me before. I have trouble getting close to people. Some might laugh and call that an understatement. Meh, whatever. Love isn’t really a foreign thing to me, y’know. I know love. I’ve loved people. But people let you down. Some people never realize how you feel. It’s unfair, but these things always are. Maybe I’m not meant to love anyone, or have anyone love me. It never ends well, does it? It just gets in the way. Red jokes about it a lot, and as much as I loathe him sometimes, he does get a nugget of truth in every once in a while. He says love is God’s eternal joke, and each and every one of us is the punchline. I guess he would know. From what I can tell, he’s been the butt of every joke he’s ever heard.
I guess I’m the same. I never quite know what’s happening around me. I do the best I can and plan my stupid little schemes and roll with the punches, but I’m never really sure what the universe has planned for me. I do what I can, I suppose, and pray for the best.
It never comes, does it? You hope it does, but you can never count on it. You have to prepare for the worst.
So why is it that the worst always comes?
* * *
When Bull entered the dimly lit interrogation room, he was happy to see that Scope wasn’t in restraints this time. He’d spoken with the staff about it, but with regulations being what they were, even he had problems overruling certain procedures. If they were being held in Top Hold, they had to be in restraints at all times outside their cell. He supposed Scope was lucky that she was even allowed outside a cell. With a few of their prisoners, that just wasn’t possible. For example, the idea of anything restraining Harmony outside her nullifying cage was unfathomable. Scope was different, of course. She could have been kept with the general populace. Strictly speaking, her power set didn’t necessitate the extreme measures associated with Top Hold in neutralizing metas. It was more for her protection, of course. A few of the inmates in GenPop were put there by her, after all.
“She’s not a prisoner,” Bull had told Jensen. “She shouldn’t be treated as one.”
Bull remembered Jensen feigning confusion as he glanced around the cold and sterile halls of Top Hold. “Why is she in here then?”
Bull didn’t answer. He didn’t feel that he had to. Sometimes, he really wanted to smash in Jensen’s stupid, smug face.
Given the circumstances surrounding her reappearance, they just couldn’t trust anything about Scope. Of course they couldn’t. After nearly single-handedly botching a coordinated global effort to lay siege to Ultima Thule, seemingly sacrificing herself by triggering a massive explosion to bring down the city’s shields and then mysteriously reappearing after the battle with only minor abrasions, the unspoken opinion of many was that they had found their suspected mole. It didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, at least to Bulwark, but he had to admit that even he suspected Scope now of more than just self-destructive behavior in the face of guilt following Acrobat’s death. The problem was, she didn’t have any answers to any of their questions, at least none that she was willing to share.
No, she didn’t know how she was still alive. No, she didn’t have any memory of anything after locking Blue Team out of the generator base of the shield tower in Ultima Thule. No, she didn’t know how she had mysteriously reappeared miles away, stumbling across an ECHO cleanup crew with nothing more than the ECHO uniform on her back.
She had refused almost anything they had offered. She barely ate, was indifferent to the state of her unwashed, battle-torn body, and became violent when anyone so much as touched her. So she was still matted with dirt and blood, her hair wild and unkempt, and she was still adorned in the same battered ECHO nanoweave that she had worn in Ultima Thule.
She sat at one end of the interrogation table, her hands clasped before her as if in prayer, her hair obscuring her face as she slouched forward in her chair. Bull winced.
“Paris,” he growled. “You smell like someone left a vat of baked beans to rot in a monkey house.”
She didn’t answer. She hadn’t moved at all when he had entered, but through the tangled mess of her hair, Bull could feel her eyes on him. And they were cold. Nothing about this felt right to him. Before, he had been struggling to understand how the girl he had mentored for so long had fallen so far. But she had become so alien to him, he found himself wondering if it was even her at all.
He sighed and took a seat opposite her.
“I’m not going to run through all the questions again,” he said, pushing his tablet to the side. “You must have memorized them by now, and your answers have always been the same. So I’ll just ask this: Do you remember anything new?”
“No,” Scope muttered. “Nothing new. Can I go back to my cell now?”
“No, you can’t,” Bull said. “I’m afraid this is the last time we’ll be meeting like this. Because at the end of this meeting, I’m going to have to make a decision on what to do with you. So you will appreciate how very important it is, if you have anything new to share with me, that you do so now. Because at this moment, the only option I can see before me is to send you to GenPop. I can’t justify keeping you in Top Hold anymore.”
“General populace?” Scope said, and chuckled. “I guess that’s one solution. You don’t really expect me to last long there, do you? Or is that the point?”
“I’ve been bending the rules enough as it is. I’ll be overruled soon. If I don’t decide to send you, someone else will.”
“Oh, right,” Scope said, nodding. “The rules. We all know how you feel about the rules, Bull. Wouldn’t want to see any tarnish on your reputation now, would we?”
“What would you have me do?” Bull asked. “You won’t volunteer any information. You should have been atomized in that blast. Instead, here you are, with a few scratches instead, with nothing to oppose the accusations that you are and have been a mole all this time.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” Scope muttered. “And really, if I was a plant, isn’t this a bit of a sloppy way to return? I’m weak, I’m jonesing like you wouldn’t believe, but I can still think. If I’m a traitor, I’m the dumbest, clumsiest traitor in the history of dumb, clumsy traitors.” She peered up at him, and Bull saw the light catch her furious eyes behind the curtain of hair.
“I don’t know what happened, Bull,” she whispered. “Not a clue. The last thing I remember is locking myself in that room and turning around to set the charges. The next thing I know, I’m crawling through a war zone. I didn’t even know we’d won. For a time, I actually thought I was the only one left. And when…”
She withdrew from him, and cowered beneath her veil again. Bull watched her intently, waiting…and relaxed when a sob escaped her lips.
“When…” she began again. “When I came across that ECHO crew, you don’t know…you have no idea how relieved I felt. If they were ECHO, then we had won. If they were ECHO, then most of you would still be alive. Maybe even you, even after…”
“After you screwed up so badly that a mountain fell on top of me?”
“Yeah,” Scope muttered. “Even after that.” She withdrew again, clasping her arms around herself
and bowing her head. “Everything after, you know. I was brought here. You asked me questions I don’t know the answers to. And now you’re going to send me down to GenPop and I’m going to have to watch my back every single moment I’m not alone in a cell for a shiv to land in my back. For all you know, that’s what I want. But you don’t believe that, do you? You’ve never given up on anyone, have you, Bull? You still believe in people. Some of those people have let you down so completely, you’ve been dragged to the edge so many times, you’re actually familiar now with the taste of your own death. But you still believe in me. I can tell. Your instincts are probably telling you some pretty confusing things right now. So how about I ask the questions for a change, Bulwark? What do you believe about me?”
Bull didn’t answer immediately. He watched her for a moment, as if sizing her up, then leaned forward and clasped his hands gently together on the table between them.
“I believe you’ve lost your way,” he said, “but that’s all. I don’t think you’re a traitor, like some do. I don’t think you had or have any intentions against ECHO. I think someone’s been playing you. I think you’ve been a bit of a victim through all this. With that said, I still think you had a hand in making yourself vulnerable to it and you should take some responsibility for that. I think you’re more a danger to yourself than anyone here now. Even if you were to clear your name or reputation, I don’t think anyone would clear you for active duty anymore, for various reasons. Jensen still wants you for more interrogation. Bella just doesn’t trust you anymore. I wouldn’t reinstate you either.”
“And why’s that, Bull?”
“Because I believe the moment you’re reinstated, you will stop being a danger just to yourself, but to anyone who has the misfortune of being placed on your team.”
“Ouch.”
“You’re not ready, Paris. I think someday you could be, but that’s a long ways away. If I had my way, you would be busted down to a base private and forced to work your way up again through the ranks, right from basic training.”
Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle Page 22