"Incognito. It isn't him anymore. Somebody has taken over, someone with a different agenda, a far worse one."
"You're not making any sense."
"Incognito. His broadcasts have been taken over. It's a different person, with a different agenda. But not just that, the call for the petition to get the President to fight, it came from within Terminal staff."
"And you have proof of this?"
"Enough, I think so, yes. You have to take this to the President. You have to put an end to this madness now!"
Piper could barely breathe as she tried to take it all in.
"You know this for certain?"
"Yes, you have my word."
"You've been wrong before. You know how you can be, how you can get when you get obsessed."
"I am not obsessed. I am trying to help you, and to help us all," she sighed.
Piper fell silent. She desperately wanted help, but she had no idea if she could trust Nui.
"Look, what are you even doing with this info?"
"I was put on the case."
"Yeah, right."
"I am serious. You have to believe me."
"Sparks wouldn't let you anywhere near something this big."
"That's exactly why he did, as a cover. He thinks the Agency is compromised. He put me on this with just one other agent. Only the three of us know about the op."
"Look, I want to believe you. I really do. I need all the help I can get right now, but I can't take wild claims like this to the President. You know that."
"I'll send you everything I've got. Please, stop it before it's too late."
"All right, I’ll do what I can. I have to go."
She thought about what else to say, but stopped herself, and ended the call. Seconds later, her console flashed as data poured in. She rushed through it as quickly as she could. It was everything Nui said it was. There was a knock at the door.
"Come!"
"Mr President, they are ready for you."
"Okay, let's get this done."
Piper rushed back to his side as he stormed out of the office.
"Mr President. I have just received vital information that would make you rethink what you are about to do."
"How many more ways are you going to think to stall this?" he groaned.
"Sir, all that before was based on my opinion and my analysis. This is different. This is evidence that proves it. Proves that this is wrong. You have to listen to me."
"The people have shown that they want it, so I can't see how that could be true."
"That's just it, Sir, it's all bogus. Incognito's transmissions, it isn't him. The petition started to get you to have this fight. It originates from Terminal themselves. They are calling the shots here."
Simmons sighed as if he had heard enough. Piper couldn't believe her message wasn't getting through.
"Mr President, you are being played."
He stopped and held up a finger to her.
"Nothing you have told me changes anything. So what where a video came from, or who started a petition? The people of the UAN voted for this. Or are you trying to tell me that the petition was faked as well?"
"The figures were inflated certainly. I have evidence of gross numbers of false signatures."
"But millions of real ones, too?"
"Well, yes, Sir."
"Then you have your answer. The people want this. You only have to watch the news and see the interviews with people on the street. They want this, and they are going to get it."
He strolled on, and she hurried to catch him up.
"That's it, Sir? You are going to ignore this? Private corporations are manipulating you, the President of the UAN, in to fighting for his life. Is that not cause for concern?"
"If all of what you say is true, then we will look into it, tomorrow. You have my word. And I will make sure that whoever is responsible for it is punished, and publicly shamed for what they have done. But even if that guilty party does exist, right now, they are holding the cards. All we can do is play this out, okay?"
He was led into a room with Terminal employees, and the chair was waiting for him. It made Piper feel sick, but she didn't know what else she could say or do to change any of it now.
"Mr President?" Piper asked as he lay down in the chair.
"What is it?"
"Good luck, Sir."
Her voice was shaky. She didn't believe in what he was about to do, but she was doing her best to support him.
"Thanks, now, let's do this."
A member of the staff placed a headset on the President as they continued to hook him up to the hardware. There were screens nearby for Piper and the others to watch.
"If anything happens to him in there, there'll be hell to pay, you hear me?"
"The President understands the risks," replied one of the Terminal staff coldly.
"We will provide the best of care, the moment this is over," insisted one of the doctors.
That didn't give Piper much faith. She had seen the result of the Locke fight.
"You people are leeches. A virus in this world, and when this is over, I am going to make sure the world knows it," she said to the Terminal staff.
"We are merely providing what the people want."
"You are trading in people's lives and suffering."
"Aren't we all?"
The screens activated. The live video from the President's view showed that he was in a small room atop a horse. He was dressed as an American cavalryman from the turn of the 20th century, wearing khaki, with no armour, and a single sword as a weapon. A straight Patton sabre hung at his saddle. There were several other video feeds where she could see the massive audience that was awaiting them. It was an arena, but based on a football stadium, and it was massive. There was seating for millions, and they chanted with excitement.
Piper felt sick. It was a morbid show that she wanted no part of. She needed to shut it down and was trying to think of a way, but she could not go against the word of the President. Dun was introduced and galloped enthusiastically into the arena. He was wearing a similar period cavalryman's uniform. A Western styled Eastern one, in khaki, but with red stripes down his breeches. A sabre hung at his saddle, too, but with a broader and slightly curved blade. Many in the crowd booed and hissed as he came in, but a large minority were cheering in support.
"Does either of them even know how to fight as cavalrymen?"
Nobody had any answers. She suspected not, and that made it even crazier. She knew the President could ride, as he so often would in the holidays, but that wasn't combat. It was a leisurely ride. Dun was handling his horse with the same level of familiarity and expertise, and that worried her, too. He was the kind of crazed lunatic that would still practice mounted swordsmanship. For no other reason than to show off to his people in state endorsed news.
The introductions were lavish and brought waves of clapping and cheering. A video feed watching the President of the UAN showed the look of concern on his face. He was as calm as anyone could be, desperately trying to hide the fear that had to be overcoming him. His confidence was an act, and that terrified Piper. The doors finally opened as he galloped out. A smile stretched across his face, but it was forced. Maybe the audience couldn't tell, but she could.
The introductions continued as the rules were read out, but the two contestants did not take their eyes off one another. Neither had drawn their swords yet. Dun looked as though he was enjoying every moment of it, just like the psychotic lunatic that he was.
"This is insane, all of it. How can nobody want to stop this?"
She hadn't meant to say that out aloud.
"Who would want to stop this? It is a matchup for the history books," said a Terminal representative.
"These are world leaders we are talking about, not sportsmen."
"There is no difference today."
She wanted to pull the plug with every fibre in her being, but she knew she could not. She would fight the President on an
y issue she felt strongly about, but she would never defy his command. That went against her principles, and that is what she had to stick with. She had to constantly remind herself that no matter how crazy the situation was, she had to stick to her guns. Or risk going crazy, or doing something stupid. She watched as the two Presidents strode back out to the edges of the arena, and the commentator brought them ever closer to the beginning of the fight. She listened to it with dread, until finally she heard the word 'Begin!'
She watched her President draw his sword. He looked more focused now and drew it confidently, putting the blade to his shoulder as if he had done it a thousand times before.
"He's been practicing, of course he has," she whispered to herself.
She knew Simmons was a firebrand, but he wasn't stupid. She was kicking herself for assuming he would go into such a dangerous situation without being as prepared as he could be. Simmons extended the sword out in front of him as he gained paced.
Dun threw off his helmet as if in disgust at the prospect that he would even need one. Simmons did the same, not wanting to be seen as weak. Dun let out a scream as his horse reared up and soared forward. Simmons followed suit. The crowd were on tiptoes and silent, watching the two cavalrymen storm towards one another. Piper held her breath at the final few metres. She closed her eyes as if not wanting to look, but opened them again as the two swords met. Simmons parried off Dun's blade, slashing with a backhanded cut as he went past. The blade cut into Dun's back, but lightly.
The crowd erupted with delight as they saw Dun come about. They could see the cut in his tunic and the blood seeping into his uniform. Their blood lust was being fuelled. That is what they’d paid to see. Dun let out an angry cry as he dug his heels in and rushed towards Simmons again. They met at speed once more. Dun attacked on the far side this time, but again Simmons parried the blade away like a professional, responding with a snappy cut of his own. The blade cut into Dun's right arm, but with a light cut that served to anger him.
Dun brought his horse about and chased after Simmons until they were alongside one another, fighting at the gallop. Dun cut down with thunderous blows. He was overweight and out of shape compared to Simmons, yet seemed a competent rider and swordsman. Also a powerful one, as his furious anger fuelled his arm with blows that wanted to end a man in one stroke. He smashed down brutal blows that Simmons was barely stopping with his more slender blade. Finally, one blow beat through his defence. Simmons' blade had taken the worst of the power from Dun's attack, but it still drove through onto his head. It cut a few millimetres into his flesh, and Dun drew the blade back in a drawing motion to lengthen the cut further.
Simmons cried out in pain, pulling away with his reins to break away from the fight. He came about as the two stopped, facing one another. Dun look mightily pleased with himself. Piper looked terrified and held one hand to her mouth in horror. She soon removed it, realising she had to be strong for her President, even if he was not there to see it. Simmons wiped the blood from his face with his left hand and flicked it away defiantly. The two closed with one another, but not at a gallop this time.
They cut and thrust at one another, time and time again. Both looked skilled. It was a tie for several minutes, at what felt like much longer. Both were tiring, and the audience cheered at every cut, every thrust, and every parry. Piper looked at one of the feeds as it panned over the faces of the audience. They loved every minute of it. It was as if they didn't even care who won and who lost, only that they got their entertainment. That feeling overcame her once more, that she was alone. That nobody could see the absurdity of it all except for her. But then she thought of Nui. The one person who had reached out to her and shown the same degree of humanity that she thought she would find in everyone.
"This is madness. It really is."
She said it out aloud and didn't care who heard it. But it wouldn't change anything. The two Presidents continued to battle it out. There was almost no movement from their horses at all as they slugged away with brutal cuts and thrusts. Finally, Dun swung a little too high. He was tiring. Simmons thrust his straight sabre home. The blade pierced Dun at his left lung and went straight through his body, exiting at his shoulder blade. The audience gasped in amazement. Simmons smiled as blood dribbled from Dun's mouth. But Dun defiantly reached out and grabbed Simmons' weapon hand. He lifted himself up in his saddles, and with one tremendous blow, brought his sword down onto Simmons' head.
The blade cleaved through his head, all the way to his jaw line, parting his skull and brain. The audience fell silent. Piper couldn’t breathe; she was so shocked. Some of the audience clapped and cried out with excitement. They were satisfied, but at what cost? Piper snapped out of her daze and looked to the doctors.
"Do something. Help him!" She was screaming.
One was applying an electronic charge to try and bring his heart back, but it was doing no good.
"Stop," said the other.
"Don't stop. You have to save him!"
"We can't save him. He's dead."
The words repeated in her mind, over and over as she fell into what felt like a dream. A nightmare.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening.
She kept repeating it in her mind. Simmons was motionless, and every monitor around him showed no signs of life.
"What have we done? What have we done!"
Chapter 15
27 th July, 2071, 9.32am
Arlington, Virginia, United American Nations
Nui sat back on the sofa in a stunned state. She looked unable to move or talk as the news played before her. Zippo was carrying about her usual day as if nothing had happened, and Hud casually ate his breakfast as he watched the same screen as Nui. She was pale and looked ill.
“I have to say, this isn’t a day I thought I’d ever see,” said Hud.
Nui finally turned to see there was a smile on his face as though he was enjoying it all. She coughed to clear her dry throat as she began to come back to reality.
“Do you have any idea what this means? Do you realise how bad things are going to get?”
“Come on? You’re blowing this way out of proportion. Some other asshole will take over, and things will go on the same as ever.”
“No, no they won’t.”
“He’s just a man. Simmons. There are thousands of people that can do that job. Hell, he wasn’t even that good at it. I bet you could run this country better than him.”
“It’s not about who is in charge. It’s about how we treat them.”
“How we treat them, you kidding me? How about how they treat us?”
“The President didn’t force you into a fight for life and death.”
“Course he did. Nobody has given a shit about me my entire life? People like Simmons have been happy to see me die in the gutter. At least we got some entertainment out of his death. It’s about time people like him were made to feel a bit of the mortality the rest of us do.”
Nui couldn’t find the words to answer.
“You know Zippo might be right. Maybe this is the kind of shake-up we need.”
“No, Hud, it really isn’t. Without respect for authority, there is no order."
“Oh, please,” replied Zippo.
“Why is it wrong to kill a cop? Why is the sentence always worse than killing a civilian?”
“Dunno, but it shouldn’t be.”
“It shouldn’t need to be. But it is, because cops protect. So an attack on a cop is an attack on our entire society, and that is what this is. You may think Simmons’ death is all a bit of a laugh, but it is going to have consequences for our entire civilisation.”
“You know what? The world has seen no end of crazy shit. Life will go on.”
But even as he said it, he was drowned out by an argument on TV from a journalist and a politician battling it out.
“This technology is an abomination and must be banned immediately. We have very strict laws regarding the safety of the citizens of
the UAN. If you were to kill someone in the street, you’d be behind bars for at least a decade, not celebrated as some kind of hero!”
“But fighters have died in sports for as long as they have competed against one another. Boxers die in the ring. Motorsport drivers. This has been accepted as the risk within adrenaline fuelled competitive sports for longer than any of us have been alive. For hundreds of years.”
“But the aim was never to intentionally kill your opponent! People died because of accidents. There was no accident here. Two human beings went out there with the intention to kill each other!”
“And yet both were consenting, and the people of the UAN wanted it. Ratings were in the many millions, and the reviews have been crazy. People loved it.”
“The people cannot always be given what they want.”
“Is that the message you want to send to voters? That they cannot be trusted to decide what they want?”
“I…I am saying that it’s much more complicated than that. Let me give you an example. Let’s take something that people feel passionately about. A mass murderer, or serial rapist, a child sex offender. Perpetrators like these make public opinion rage. The people would like to see the perpetrators of these crimes suffer. Many would like to deal the punishment out themselves. If we put up a petition to see if the citizens of the UAN wanted to publicly stone to death a child sex offender, I am willing to bet there would be widespread support for it, don’t you?”
“I suppose…”
“Yes, of course there would be. But we can never allow that to happen. The people may want it in the short term, but it cannot be allowed. Sure, most of us would like to see a child sex offender suffer for their crimes, but we can’t let that happen, because we are not animals. We are a civilised society, and as such, there are rules. Order must be maintained.”
“So you are saying this is an issue of morality?”
“Yes.”
“And that you better understand what dictates good morals than the people who voted for you?”
“I…I…” he began to reply in a flustered fashion.
“I am sorry, but that’s all we’ve got time for. And in other news…”
“Off!” Nui yelled.
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