by Chogan Swan
Dylan looked at the Young Dem half of the room they now occupied. A curtain hid the stage, but the video screen was now in front of the tables. Instead of swimming fish, it showed groups of arrows, some looped like the chicken/egg diagram, but others were doubled straight lines, pointing to various words and boxes. One part of the screen had an exploded view to show a deeper level of modeling. Evidently, the diagram on top was a higher-level look at the model. A few of the arrows also had an exploded background to show the mathematical nature of the illustrated relationships. Dylan considered himself advanced in statistics. After all, it was the math of politics. Some of the relationships were exponential or log functions, but others had different irregular shapes driving the behavior of the variables from the inputs. He resisted the temptation to dive into the mechanics behind the model; he needed to stay focused on winning, not the mechanics; all he needed was an overview.
Jenny finally ran down, and Hope turned to him. “Hi Dylan,” she said.
Dylan turned to her with his practiced smile. It was a good one—just right for first meetings with girls around his age.
“My interests? I’m interested in winning this game today. Why don’t you friend me on FaceBook for the other stuff. I can’t wait for you to run us through this model.”
“Sure, these are just my personal contact notes,” she said, tapping the tablet. “I like to remember people and their interests. As a data geek, this is how I do it.” Hope grinned. “We can get started now if you like; all your team is back from the break.”
Dylan turned to address his team. “Everyone ready? Does anyone have anything they want to say before we start?”
The room quieted; Jenny turned to look at Dylan. “This could be revolutionary.”
It wasn’t Jenny’s comment that started the uneasy sensation in Dylan’s chest; it was the quiet rumble of agreement from the rest. As Hope worked through the model, explaining the levers the team would use: taxes, spending, infrastructure, education policies… along with how the dynamics could be influenced, it only got worse.
Dylan raised two fingers.
“Yes, Dylan?” she said.
“Thanks, Hope. I’m curious how your model manages emulating public opinion and economic performance simultaneously based on policy decisions. How are you fitting the model and how are you avoiding overfitting?”
“Great question, Dylan. . .”
Dylan clenched his teeth, disappointed; she actually seemed eager to answer it.
“We combine a consumer segmenting strategy with machine learning to model mathematical constructs that mimic social forces and society’s satisfaction. If you are familiar with the marketing tool Conjoint Analysis, you’ll get the idea. This part of the model is based on a market strategy gaming platform, which you may have played in your business classes. Our model uses far more computing power, and it learns how to improve its performance every day. We use some statistical approaches introduced by data scientists including a Bayesian method that has been very successful in predicting political races. It is not perfect and never will be, but it has already proven useful. This is only one model of many under development that can help us evaluate various policies. Let me show you what happens when it’s running.”
With a few spoken commands, she started the model emulating government policy satisfaction from 1980 to the present. As the simulated years marched by, a graph showing seven areas of satisfaction waxed and waned from the perspectives of ten major segments of the population. Graphs formed with labels like: Unemployment; Tax Fairness; Legal Policy; Government Services; Government Spending; Infrastructure and Natural Resource Stewardship. Hope pointed out the causal loops that contributed to the different dynamics and how they pointed back to policy decisions. Hope traced the effects of short-term policies—that flipped with each administration—as they created jagged lines of discontent in various population segments.
As she went on, Dylan kept his face registering interest and enthusiasm, but the uneasiness didn’t leave.
This wasn’t just a game. This model was a new player; that was why the money was backing it. He understood now. This was a revolution.
Dylan walked across the drill field back to his dorm. A chilly night breeze stirred his hair, but he scarcely noted the cold. He stopped at one of the park benches scattered along the footpaths and leaned on it, head down, to think. Dylan had shaken loose from his team’s victory celebration early, saying he didn’t feel well. Though he said it like a lie, his stomach was churning and his head throbbed, so it wasn’t much of a stretch.
He’d need to do something of course; this development would change everything. It would take decades, but alliances and special interest groups would falter. The power of the parties would be decimated. Worse, no opportunities were available for bettering his position with this new player in motion. Who could he reach? He had connections. . . .
“Excuse me, Dylan.”
Dylan looked up. It was the black woman from the panel earlier. Doctor Archer. But now, she was in a casual denim skirt and a Virginia Tech hoodie. She looked like a student.
“We spoke at the reception. I’m sorry if I’m intruding, but you seemed upset, even though your team won, and I wanted to check on you to make sure you were all right.”
Dylan lips twisted. “Is that what you call avoiding active insurrection for ten years? Winning?”
Archer stepped closer to him with a look of concern on her face and touched his hand. His skin tingled where her fingers rested. “It’s just a game, Dylan. Why does it bother you so much?”
He pulled his hand away. “You and I both know it’s not just a game, Dr. Archer,” he said stiffly.
“Ah!” she breathed. “I wasn’t expecting the truth so soon.”
Dylan hesitated. He’d spoken without thought. “I’m sorry; that was rude. It’s been a long day and my head is just killing me.”
“Now there I can help you. I’m a doctor, after all, and one of my degrees is in medicine.” She stepped closer to him. The smell of her was warm and spicy. Archer reached behind his neck and ran her fingers over the muscles under his skull. “Oh, yes! You are carrying a lot of tension here. Let me help.” Her grip tightened on his neck for a moment.
His neck tingled and the tension left his muscles in a rush. The headache vanished and his stomach settled. The physical relief made his body sag, but she caught him in her arms and lowered him to the bench. Her arms were very strong.
“Let’s just sit here a moment so you can rest. I must talk to Jonah about making the seminar not quite so challenging.”
“That was amazing,” said Dylan. “What did you do to my neck?”
“My own version of reiki,” she said with a slight smile. “I’m very interested in your opinion of the seminar today, Dylan. I found your comments during the talk insightful. You won by leading your team away from the party platform, so I know that you have a good degree of flexibility in your thinking. What was it that upset you?”
Still deliciously relaxed, Dylan sighed and said, “It just changes everything. This morning I had my path mapped out to the senate and the presidency in fifteen to twenty years, and now I don’t know what to expect. I don’t see how to get ahead with this new dynamic in play.”
“So you’ll fight it?”
“Yes! I mean…. No. How could I?”
“You have party connections don’t you? Higher-ups that know how to play hardball?”
Dylan looked at her; his head was fuzzy. “That would be wrong?” he said at last.
“Ah, Dylan,” she said. “So quick to abandon the truth,” then she leaned forward and kissed him.
Dylan wasn’t sure why he let her. She did smell good.
“Would you like to come back to my room with me?” he said.
“I don’t think so, Dylan. Tomorrow, you won’t remember our conversation, or what you thought about today’s simulation games. What happened won’t be clear in your mind, but you will discover that a caree
r in politics no longer interests you. Maybe a year of online gaming will satisfy your thirst for empire building, but stay away from the dark ones. Will you do that for me?”
“Sure, why not,” said Dylan. He still felt good, but his head was swimming.
“Good, I’ll walk you to your dorm room.”
“Okay. Why did you kiss me?”
“Because, even though you’re a parasite and we’re at war, I had a better way to take you out of the battle than killing you. You have lots of potential for good. You’re a smart kid. When you tire of online gaming, you should consider what you can do that will help the world while you are helping yourself.”
A few minutes later, Dylan found himself in his bed looking up at her dark eyes and cherry-colored lips. “I’m glad you didn’t kill me,” he said as his head rolled to the side and he began the slide into sleep. Her lips brush his neck with a brief suction there followed by a little pressure.
“Me too, Dylan,” he heard her say, followed by the sound of the door as it closed behind her.
Chapter 19 (Building Alliances)
Jonah rubbed his fingers on the table and considered as he watched Tiana and Lydia, the long-time mole in Sackett’s organization, through the video monitors. The two of them were in an open room, sitting on a brown, fabric couch. They’d been there two hours. Lydia had been trying to answer Tiana’s questions thoroughly, even volunteering information. It seemed she’d decided her best strategy was to help Tiana take down her enemies. Jonah permitted himself a tight grin. One problem with motivation by fear was it didn’t inspire loyalty.
“I understand you are afraid of them, Lydia,” Tiana said as she reached out and touched Lydia’s arm, “and you should be. They are deadly beings, and you’d be a fool not to fear them. However, even if they learned your location, you are deep underground in a hardened facility. This place is secure. Only three others know where you are, and I trust them as I trust myself.”
“I’m sure you’re doing your best to keep them away from me,” Lydia said as she pulled her sweater closer around her shoulders. “I’m valuable to you, and you wouldn’t want me captured because I couldn’t keep information about you from them. Like you, they can tell when people lie to them, but they kill for it.” Lydia looked at her hands. “Kill slowly,” she finished in a whisper.
Tiana put her hand back on Lydia’s arm. They sat silent awhile.
“You aren’t like them,” said Lydia. “I don’t think you’re evil, but you might decide I need to die at some point.” She looked at Tiana.
“I can’t deny the possibility,” Tiana said.
“If that happens, will you kill me fast?”
“If that happens, and I can, yes. Would you want time to prepare for it?”
“A moment would be appreciated, but what else can I do now except prepare?”
“You might pray that my efforts to end them would be successful.”
“Yes, but I doubt my faith can stretch that far.”
“It will do you good to try.” Tiana stood. “I must go now. Would you like any more books?”
“Yes, thank you. I always like the ones you pick.”
“I’ll have some brought to you then.”
Tiana walked toward the camera and exited the room. Jonah—sitting still on the couch for a few moments—watched Lydia then he looked at his notes. Though he’d could recall the whole event if he focused, he found taking notes helped him work through what he’d been processing as he listened.
A moment later, Tiana came in and sat with him.
Jonah tapped a bullet point in his notes. “She said the same two are always there. Why is that?”
“To my knowledge, only two made it to the planet. They need to be physically present to hear her heartbeat and smell her to discern a lie.”
Jonah drew an arrow from his bullet point and wrote ‘scent’ at the end of the arrow. “I wonder if it’s more than that. If they’re like human parasites, maybe they don’t trust each other with information. Can you tell me more about them?”
An emotional twinge came to him from his connection with her.
Shame?
He looked at her face. He’d never seen that expression. Puzzle pieces sorted in his mind: her reaction to hearing about the atomic bombs dropped on Japan; a long violent conflict across the galaxy; war with no quarter given; nii/niiaH; symbiont/parasite; both dark-skinned humanoids; both with sensitive olfactory systems. His intuition made a leap. They were the same species… or had been.
“Oh,” he said.
Tread carefully. Just wait for her.
He put his pen down, considering whether to reach out and touch her arm. Instead he said, “Who we are is about the choices we make, not the ones we might be capable of making. Why be ashamed for what others have done? If it’s about the damage they’ve done to our world because you didn’t catch them first, well…. It’s not like Earth wasn’t already infested with parasites when you got here.”
He sighed. “At least you have them on the run; we still let parasites run pretty much everything.”
“Yes, of course, Jonah.” Tiana sighed and shook her head. “I guess one common trait we have with humans is that feelings needn’t be about logic.”
Jonah scratched his head. “So this schism happened long ago. Have differences emerged in abilities?”
Tiana nodded and moved closer to Jonah. Jonah felt the sense of … relief from her. Perhaps she’d worried he would withdraw when he discovered the connection between her and the niiaH.
“Wait a minute,” Jonah said, holding up his hand before she answered. “Does anyone else know this?”
“I’ve told no one,” Tiana said. “My people have a coming-of-age ceremony that includes the history and background of the civil war and an oath never to speak of the origin of the niiaH parasites. When the war started, I took the oath, and I’ve been at war since. It is well you discovered this. I won’t ask you to keep it secret.”
Jonah leaned back, put his head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. At length he said, “Is that because you realize it’s a tactical mistake not to tell your friends?”
Tiana looked at him without speaking. Jonah didn’t need the connection between them to tell him the answer, but it was there too. He was right.
“I’ll think about this,” he said. “When I decide who to tell and how, I’ll warn you.”
Tiana moved closer and put her head on his chest. Jonah’s arms found their way around her naturally, as she snuggled into him. The rest of the conversation could wait.
~~~{Jonah}~~~
“Dammit, Austin!” Amber snapped from the backward-facing, third-row seat of the SUV. “Do you have to hit every pothole? I gotta pee and you aren’t making my life any easier. These rear shocks are stiff as a…”
“Sorry, ma’am,” said Austin from the driver’s seat. “I’d stop if I could, but mission parameters say not to go outside the vehicle without overhead cover, and that’s pretty hard to find in Arizona. Logistics said they put emergency thunder mugs in every vehicle on the route. Are you sure one isn’t back behind the seat?”
Jonah sighed. The Sonora Desert stretched away on all sides. He could use a pit stop himself. At least there was an empty water bottle if it got too bad. That wouldn’t help Amber though. Maybe if he cut the top off with his knife, but he just didn’t have the nerve to suggest it, especially because this trip was his idea.
“We’re almost at the border, Amber,” Tiana said from the seat behind Austin. Even though the air conditioning was on, her window was open a crack so she could sample the smells outside. Jonah sat to her right. Over the past two hours, he’d spotted coyotes, roadrunners and other desert wildlife as they passed through the sere landscape, but it was difficult to enjoy the view. Words circled in his head like the buzzards on the western horizon as he considered his presentation to the tribal chairman.
Jonah had nodded off, but woke when Austin pulled under the canopy at the gas sta
tion. As soon as they stopped, Amber was out the back door, headed for the restroom. Jonah put on his wide-brimmed hat and followed. Their final relief car pulled up on the other side of the gas pumps.
When Jonah came back, Jacksie and Austin had moved their bags into the new car. “All guns locked in the trunk, right?” Jonah said. “We don’t have concealed carry permits for the reservation, and I don’t want to go in with anyone who is open carrying.”
“Got it, Jonah, no one is carrying,” Jacksie assured him.
Jonah stopped, noting the ‘tell’ in Jacksie’s voice. “Amber has people in place doesn’t she?”
“Easy, Jonah,” Amber said, coming up behind him. “No one is crossing the border without an Evac request from one of us. It’s just drones and choppers, and all of them way outside the rez.”
“The nation isn’t a threat to us.”
Amber held up her hands. “I’m aware, but our enemies could have gotten here first. Maybe it’s not likely, but I’m not allowing that sort of risk on my watch.”
“It impacts my objectives. You should have told me,” snapped Jonah.
“Then you should’ve asked.”
Jonah glared, then nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded. “I’ll remember next time.”
Amber grinned. “And if I want to know something about your area of expertise, I’ll remember to ask you.”
“She’s got a point, sir,” said Jacksie unleashing his blazing grin.
“I’m not saying Amber doesn’t know security inside out, but I’m talking about diplomacy, and that’s not the same.”