Glass Sky

by Niko Perren

  “I thought I was being so clever,” groaned Ruth.

  “I’d say you did pretty well,” said Bruno. “Most people wouldn’t have made it out of Boulder. Not alive.”

  ***

  Bruno ordered a car and they spent a while driving around, swapping vehicles twice. The final vehicle took them to a bland zone of sheet metal warehouses, heavy on loading docks, light on windows. They stopped outside a nondescript doorway, one of a dozen entrances along a corrugated frontage. A perfectly anonymous bolthole. The only marking was a small black and white sign that said “Burnside Productions” in a font that resembled handwriting. Bruno punched a manual code into the keypad.

  They stepped out of the heat into an air-conditioned waiting room. Two chairs that might have been antique flanked a velvet couch. Signed video frames of famous actors plastered the walls.

  Bruno’s eyes moved behind his EyeSistant. “Witty should be here in ten. He’s being followed right now. They’ll switch him to another car as soon as they get to a good spot.”

  “Is it safe to use that? Don’t EyeSistants have wiretap hardware?” asked Ruth.

  “Mine’s military,” said Bruno. “We’ll be fine.”

  They passed a row of dressing rooms and stepped into what was obviously a movie set. The back wall was painted a uniform green, spotted with reference dots for the computer animators. Dozens of articulated arms extended from the ceiling, each holding lights for different moods and times of day. The set itself was bare except for a couch, a table, and about 20 green boxes that ranged in size from a book to a fridge. The boxes had the same reference dots as the walls, placeholders for whatever company bought the local rights to insert their products.

  “What were they filming?” asked Tania.

  “No idea,” said Bruno. “Anything from porn to a sci-fi musical. High budget though, if they’re still using props and humans.”

  “We’ll have to keep an eye out for that couch,” said Ruth. “Assuming they don’t change the fabric in post-production.”

  Bruno led them to a back meeting room. A few minutes later they heard conversation outside. Witty swept in, with Frank behind him. Coffee stained Frank’s shirt, and he sported a fresh cut under his right eye.

  “You OK?” asked Ruth.

  “The little one sucker-punched me.” Frank grinned. Apparently in some parallel universe getting punched was fun.

  Witty hugged Ruth. His bathing suit was still wet, and he wore a towel around his shoulders. “I’m glad we found you.”

  “How did you even know to look?” asked Tania.

  Witty burst out laughing. “Oh, there’s a story. I had the Lohan quadruplets on my show; invited them back to my place. Then, I hear a tremendous bang at the front door. Government agents with a no-knock warrant. Apparently they don’t understand steel doors. They spent ten minutes trying to bash it down before my lawyer panicked and made me open it.

  “You should have seen how mad they were,” laughed Frank. “I thought they were going to spike Mr. W. with a paingiver.”

  “Scared the shit out of me, too,” said Witty. “I thought these clowns,” he nodded at Bruno and Frank, “had done one too many inquiries on Ethiopia. But the agents kept asking about you. Searched my house, and then my studio. Since I like to collect what other people covet, I figured a Tania and Ruth scavenger hunt might be fun.”

  Witty sat down at the table, still chuckling. “So?” he asked. “How badly am I going to regret getting involved?”

  ***

  Tania told Witty the story, starting with Jie’s call.

  Witty groaned, and banged his head on the table theatrically. “Do I get an undo?” he asked Bruno. “How do I go back to where I suggested finding Tania and Ruth before the government does?”

  “I could shoot them for you,” said Bruno, straightening.

  Witty pursed his lips. “Yes, not a bad idea. Leave their bodies at the coffee shop.” For a chilling moment he seemed to consider it. Then he laughed. “Nah. I’m just being dramatic. I’m rich enough to afford the consequences.” He pounded the table. “Fair’s fair. I told you to catch the world’s attention, and I think you’ve found a way. Let’s do this. If my show gets cancelled, it’ll be with record ratings.” He turned to Tania. “Tania, you’ve had a day in the car to think about this. What’s our endgame? Is it still Pax Gaia?”

  “It’s Pax Gaia without the UN,” said Tania. “The goals and execution stay the same. Measurable targets: CO2 emissions, species diversity, forest cover, adult literacy, percentage of people below the poverty line. But the management has to change. It’s time for the scientists to have a go. The political establishment has failed us again and again.”

  “Damn right they have,” agreed Ruth.

  “I propose an incentive system,” continued Tania. “We reward nations that meet their environmental targets by giving them shield time. If the shield time is used wisely, it’ll help them meet more targets, earning more time. A virtuous cycle.”

  “And you’d coordinate this?” asked Witty.

  “No. I can’t be involved,” said Tania. “Not personally. It has to be clear that I’m not bene-fitting, especially with these corruption allegations against me. We’ve all seen pro-democracy coups turn into dictatorships. We need two independent teams. The first is a panel of scientists and development experts. They set the environmental goals.”

  “And the second team?” Witty was leaning forward now, eyes lit. “I assume they measure against those goals and hand out shield time.”

  “Yes. That’s the tricky job,” said Tania. “Awarding time is going to create controversy no matter how we do it. I’m leaning towards an AI. Jie suggested that in his email.”

  “An AI?” asked Witty. “I’m just a TV host. But didn’t an artificial intelligence launch India’s strike on Pakistan?”

  “This is a much easier problem,” said Tania. “We already trust computers with everything from surgery to driving. If we collect data from objective sources, and are open about our algorithms, then an AI will be fair to everyone. And an AI can’t be bribed.”

  Witty still looked skeptical, but he let it slide. “How do we stop this from becoming a zero-sum game? If I increase forest cover by forcing rural peasants into cities, don’t I win at your expense, depriving you of shield time?”

  Tania got up, pacing in her excitement. They’d discussed these ideas many times in the Pax Gaia meetings. But they’d always stopped short, held back by politics. “The UN thinks along national borders,” she said. “But a river doesn’t end when it leaves a country. Neither does a forest. We’ll create policies that encourage cooperation and punish externalities. Measures of a forest’s health must include the living standards in surrounding cities. Measures of a city’s health must include the rivers downstream from it.”

  Witty nodded several times. “And how do we prove that Jie’s taken control of the shield? Won’t Juarez just deny it?”

  Shit. “I hadn’t thought of that,” said Tania. “I guess an email from Cheng doesn’t count?”

  “Could we borrow a satellite dish?” asked Ruth. “It can’t be that hard to communicate with a spacecraft. When I was in high school, some kids from Austin talked to the lunar station. Remember the fuss?”

  “Don’t look at me,” said Tania. “Communication protocols are one thing I know nothing about.”

  “And I’m just a pretty face,” said Witty. “Astonishingly pretty. But of no use on technical matters.”

  “The signal will be encrypted,” offered Frank. “Everything is these days.”

  “Fuck it,” said Ruth. “Who needs proof? Outrage. That’s what we’ll use. Enrage the public. Jie’s going to die!”

  “Good point,” said Witty. “Jie’s going to die. And if you doubt us, try to call him… This is great stuff.”

  “Great stuff?” asked Tania. “He’ll never see his son again. His last days will be spent in a metal can.”

  “We can be sentimental late
r,” said Witty. “But today, the best way we can honor Jie’s sacrifice is by milking it for maximum impact. This isn’t a boxing match. It’s a street brawl. You’ve already seen how far our opponents will go to win. We can’t afford to ignore a weapon.”

  “Then it’s time we exposed Juarez’s land deals,” Ruth said. “It’ll focus the public’s anger.”

  Witty’s smile vanished. “That might be pushing it. Revealing the Jie story might get my show cancelled. But to attack a politician, I need much more than just a leaked document. The Truth in Politics Act is not something to take lightly.”

  “The evidence exists,” said Ruth. “If we scare the rats enough, they’ll turn on each other. Somebody will come forward to save themselves.”

  Witty bit his lip, contemplating. “OK,” he said finally. “Might as well go all-in. We’ll expose the land deals.”

  Ruth gasped, as if she’d noticed something nobody else had. “You know what. That gives me an idea about how we can get some political endorsements. What if…?” She bubbled out her plan, barely restraining her excitement.

  Witty nodded enthusiastically. “I like this. It’s bold, and it’s devious. Like we’re stealing a page from Juarez’s book of dirty tricks.”

  When does the slope become too slippery? Khan Tengri killed Jimmy Wong. I funded Pax Gaia with illegal accounting tricks. And now this?

  “I don’t know about this, Ruth,” said Tania. “Your idea might work. But it feels like we’re crossing a line. Is this really how we want to start Pax Gaia? Is the public so immune to facts that we can only reach them through emotional manipulation and sneaky tricks?”

  “Do we want a chance of winning?” asked Ruth.

  Tania nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Then we’re agreed,” said Witty. “We won’t get another chance. Tomorrow, we claim the shield for Earth’s citizens, and we use every trick at our disposal to put pressure on the baby kissers.”

  “Tomorrow?” asked Tania. “Do you have any idea how many changes I need to make to Pax Gaia if we’re handing shield management to a panel of scientists and development experts?”

  Witty tossed her a blue pill bottle. “Stims. You can sleep when you’re dead.”

  Chapter 52

  THE STIM BECKONED from Tania’s palm. Clarity today, at the expense of a foggy-headed irritability tomorrow. Irritability that could last for days. But after a sleepless night of frantic Pax Gaia edits, she needed to clear her addled brain. She crunched the tiny blue pill, feeling the fizz on her tongue. I’m going to pay for this later.

  “Ready?” asked Bruno.

  “I wish we didn’t have to go to Witty’s studio,” said Tania. “It feels too exposed.”

  “If you call in, they’ll cut the connection in minutes,” said Ruth. “Besides, you have to be there, putting yourself on the line. It shows conviction.”

  “But the police searched the studio once already. They’re obviously expecting us.”

  “That’s why it’s safe,” said Bruno. “Mr. Witty is famous. And his skin is white, so civil rights apply double. They can’t harass him with another search, so they’re stuck watching the entrances to his house and studio.”

  “One of which we have to go through.”

  Bruno laughed. “That’s why I get paid so much.”

  Tania tried to read the new Pax Gaia introduction one last time, but the words swam on the page. The stim’s kicking in already. “We should go,” she said.

  They wound their way through the production studio back to the exit. Tania stepped outside, blinking as her pupils fought the burning sunlight. If everything went as planned, Jie is out there somewhere. Could I do what he did? She tried to imagine what it would be like. Alone. A million kilometers from the nearest human. You’re in a pretty hairy position yourself, Tania. Maybe focus on that.

  A truck rolled down the street, heading for one of the nearby warehouses. She could feel somebody staring at her from inside, a cluster of antenna eyes blinking on stalks. God. These stims get weird if you take too many in a row. Let it settle. Don’t panic. I’m in a city. Cars are normal.

  The next car was unlike anything Tania had seen, and for a moment she thought it was another stim hallucination. It looked like a drop of mercury on wheels. Even the windows were mirrored, as reflective as the body. The doors opened as it slowed, appearing to melt out of the frame.

  “Well, this is subtle,” said Tania.

  “It belongs to a friend of Witty’s,” said Bruno. “Private cars have better anonymity glass.”

  They climbed into the red velvet interior, Bruno taking what was still called the “driver’s seat.” The car glided away with an erotic hummmm. Within minutes they were on a freeway, packed into traffic, heading towards the tunnel where Tania would jump out and get into Witty’s car. Witty would have a tail of course, but according to Bruno, there was a blind spot in the tunnel where they could make the switch unnoticed. If Witty appeared to go from his house right into his underground studio parking without stopping, there would be no reason to search his vehicle.

  At least, that was the plan.

  Bruno’s eye twitched as he received a message on his omni. “Frank just left the mansion with Mr. W,” he announced. He listened for a moment. “Really? No.” An excited smile crept over his face. “That’s not good.”

  Dark colors stirred through Tania’s stim buzz. “What’s going on?”

  “They’re running box surveillance on Frank. Multiple vehicles. Ahead, behind, and on the side streets in case they turn. Our transfer spot won’t work against that configuration.” He grinned, as if this were somehow good news. “We’ll have to improvise. And fast. Mr. W. can hardly drive around in circles while we figure something out.”

  He retreated into the inner world of his EyeSistant, occasionally saying something to Frank. Tania counted street-side cameras. Have there always been this many? Every intersection had a cluster. Every building entrance. Every street light. All of them tied to government servers under antiterrorism legislation. How can we possibly get into Witty’s car unnoticed?

  “Got it!” said Bruno. “There’s a broken camera at the mall exit. It may give us enough time.” May? “Tania, the moment I stop, get on the sidewalk.”

  Ruth squeezed Tania’s hand. “You’re going to blow them away,” she said.

  Tania shook her head. “I still don’t know if I can play your South Africa trick. If Mbani calls us on it…”

  “He won’t,” said Ruth. “He’s too much of an opportunist. We’ve talked about this. Sometimes you’ve got to do a small wrong to prevent a larger one.”

  “I wish you were coming with me,” said Tania.

  “I belong on the street,” said Ruth. “If this ends badly, I need to be with my people. Besides, I may have some more ideas.”

  “Be careful,” said Tania. “They’ll be watching your friends.”

  “Have I ever let you down?” asked Ruth. But this time, her face couldn’t mask the uncertainty. “No matter what happens, we tried. We didn’t give up.”

  “Get ready!” Bruno warned.

  They turned a corner, pulling along the outer wall of a mall conversion. It had once been a two-story parking garage, with cars entering on the lower level. Now shops filled it, leaving a solid wall of glass storefronts along the street, with only occasional breaks, like cave entrances, where vehicles could pull completely inside to drop off passengers. They passed one entrance, then two.

  At the third one they turned off the road into the inner dropoff zone. The car screeched to a stop by the mall doors. “Go! Go!” barked Bruno.

  Tania leapt out, pulling her cap down to hide her face. The silver car, with Bruno and Ruth still inside, accelerated the 50 yards to the end of the loop, turned, then headed back past her. The car’s reflective glass revealed nothing. Tania stood alone on the sidewalk.

  She felt painfully aware of how conspicuous she was, having just stepped out of a flashy vehicle. A white
four-seater swept by, depositing passengers in front of the mall doors, then picking up new ones before returning to the road. Can’t argue the location. The mall would cut off the side vehicles in the surveillance box, and the sharp turn shielded her from the road. The camera above her was cracked and lifeless, as if somebody had thrown a rock at it. How many places in LA are this anonymous?

  Another car rounded the bend, a golden cube as outrageous as the mercury raindrop she’d climbed out of. It screeched to a halt next to her, the door open before it had even stopped.

  “In!” Frank snapped. “They’re right behind us.”

  Tania dove in, almost landing on Witty’s lap. Tania twisted to look out of the back window. Not a moment too soon. A light-blue van was turning in behind them.

  “Afternoon, Tania,” said Witty. “Ready to change the world?”

  Frank was sitting in the front seat. He nodded at her, then opened his door and disappeared inside the mall to complete the charade. The blue van stopped behind them. A man got out, another suited goon. He tilted his head as if trying to get a view through the anonymity glass. He suspects something. Tania slid down into her seat. The man stood on the sidewalk, watching them for a minute, then walked right up to Tania’s window. He pushed his face against the glass and knocked.

  Holy shit! Holy shit! Don’t breathe! Be invisible!

  Frank sprinted out of the mall, a pharmacy bag in one hand. “Hey, you, fuck off! Leave Mr. W alone.” The man retreated to the van. It followed them all the way to the studio, waiting at the driveway’s end until the garage door had closed behind them.

  ***

  “Live, from California, it’s the Witty Show, with your host, Bill Witty!” The monitors on the wall showed a cheering studio audience. Tania stood at the spotlight’s fringe, waiting to take her place on stage. The stim had settled nicely now, leaving fireworks of sparkling thought; her skin tingled with energy. Witty’s assistant, Jane Penny, stood a few steps back, dressed in an outfit that to Tania at least looked more like tinfoil than fabric. Because they weren’t sure how the show would play out, Witty was wearing a real suit instead of relying on the computer-generated overlays. Tania was likewise in a borrowed outfit from the rather limited wardrobe.