War and Peace: Chapter 49

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Chapter 49

"Think he'll go along with it?" Alicia asked.

She sat on the floor, back pressed against the bar, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them. Stoic, but it didn't take a mentalist to see that she was scared.

No surprise. James was terrified and the immediate threat wasn't even directed at him. All he could do was sit beside Alicia and pretend not to be bothered.

"He will," Donald said, helping himself to his fifth pint. "Laskowitz is an asshole. He's got self-interest first, second, third, and last. He'll be just as screwed as us if he don't do what he's told."

After Daisy's ultimatum, Laskowitz had immediately vanished, allowed to come and go to arrange what Daisy wanted. He had yet to return. Daisy was also nowhere to be seen.

Julia was standing in a corner, gazing up at some tacky reproduction art on the walls. Kanade sat on the edge of the bar, dangling her legs, occasionally letting the heels of her sneakers thump softly against the wood. Sara stood against the wall nearby, looking exactly like always, which was sort of a relief somehow.

"I'll be so pissed if I die this way," Alicia said.

Her expression said she meant it. James smiled. Thunder and Spite to the end. "What do you mean 'this way'?"

"I'm only mixed up in this because I'm his stupid daughter." Alicia smacked a palm against the floor. Not hard, but there was rage in it. "I thought I left that shit behind."

"What happened?"

"Long story. How much you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell."

A soft breath of amused air escaped Alicia's nostrils. "You're a nice guy." She knocked her head back against the bar. "I hate nice guys. I don't like things I don't understand."

"Is that why you like Kerrigan? You understand him?"

"Hah! Yeah. That dumbass just loves a fight. He's like something right out of Berserk."

That gave James a second of pause. "You know Berserk?"

"Yeah. Why? Got a problem with a girl liking manga?"

"I'm half Japanese, you know."

Alicia's eyebrows crawled up her forehead. "With a name like James Kirkpatrick?" She squinted. "Actually, I sort of see it."

"Kerrigan is just like Zodd."

"Gahahaha! Exactly!" Alicia slapped her knee. "Battle this, battle that, worthy opponent blah blah blah. I don't mind that kind of idiot."

James smiled. "Me either."

Soft footsteps, audible only because his mentalism was tuned up with tension: Kanade had gotten down off the bar and made her way to them.

"Can I join you guys?" she asked, strangely timid.

Alicia waved a hand. "It's a free country. Well, supposed to be. Prisoners gotta stick together."

"Thanks."

Kanade sat on the other side of Alicia in the same posture James had found her in under the tree that day in the park. Seemed like yesterday. Seemed like a million years ago.

Alicia rolled up the sleeves of her sweater. "You've seen, so no point hiding it." She pointed to the discolorations up and down both arms. In some places there were raised knots of scar tissue. "Lot more on my back. A few of 'em were actually me. Like that one." She indicated a large slash, horizontal across her wrist. "Cut wrong. You have to cut between the tendons. They called it a cry for help. Hah. Said I needed a change of environment. Sure as hell that was true."

"That's horrible," Kanade said.

"It worked out alright. After I turned eighteen and graduated, I changed my name and didn't look back."

"You never went to the police?" James reached out and touched a scar, one clearly not self-inflicted. Alicia didn't flinch away, but she closed her eyes.

"I didn't want to."

"Why?"

"He was a senator then, and running for President. And he was good. I could see that people loved him. I was being patriotic." Alicia smiled. It looked terribly sad. "Maybe I was an idiot. Learning about all this stuff behind the scenes makes me think he wasn't doing a very good fucking job. Either this is his fault, or it was going on under his nose and he had no idea."

"Why was he so different toward you than to everyone else?" James asked.

Alicia shrugged. "He loved Mom too much, I guess. It was a hard birth and she was really weak after. She only made it till I was four. The more I started to look like her, the more he resented it. I don't know. He cracked a bit when he lost her. But not enough to give up on his dream. He thought he could run the country better than anyone else, and enough people agreed for him to make it this far. And I guess I agreed, too. Somehow." Alicia shook her head. "Maybe that makes me even stupider than Kerrigan."

"I don't think it's stupid," Kanade said.

"Neither do I," James said. "I don't know if what you did was right, but it was brave. The opposite of me."

"What do you mean?" Alicia looked at him, curiosity in those deep gray eyes.

"That's also a long story."

"I'm listening."

"The short version, then." James leaned his head back against the wall. "I once had a tough decision to make. I did the opposite of you. I went against what everyone wanted. Unlike you, I couldn't let go." He stared up at the ceiling, but in his mind, saw the stars. "You just let it go, and lived."

"I think what both of you did was equally strong," Kanade said. "Weakness is not being able to make a decision at all. Letting life happen instead of making it happen." Her lips turned upward, but James couldn't call it a smile. Her eyes were too sad.

"Sounds like you've got a story, too," Alicia said.

"Life is a difficult thing, isn't it?"

"But worth it," James said. "It took a long time for me to realize. But I did."

"I agree," Alicia said.

"Me too," Kanade said.

"This seems like a cozy little gathering," Julia said, abandoning her kitschy art to stand in front of them. "I do hesitate to interrupt, but I have a question for everyone."

"Be our guest," James said.

"Since there seems to be consensus that life is a troublesome hassle but worth the effort, shall we do something to get ourselves out of this?"

The answer came from the bar in a slightly slurred baritone. "Waste of fuckin time." From the sound of it, the number of beers Donald had been through was climbing. "We're helpless. Without someone on the outside, forget it."

"It can't hurt to try." Julia strode over and snatched the beer out of Donald's hand. "Getting smashed and whining isn't an improvement. You're the genius that created this mess; surely you can create your way out of it."

"What if we did have someone on the outside?" James said.

Every eye in the bar swiveled to him.

"The witch and the rent-a-spy," Donald said, stroking his chin.

"If they're trying to break in, can we do something to help?"

"Not with human skills." Donald's glance slid to a leather-clad figure standing in silent observation. "Sara, what's the defense around this space?"

"Symmetric encryption with 1024-bit key. Hardware level packet filter plus double application-layer software firewall."

"You tried anything yet?"

"I have been attempting brute-force attack with no success. I may be able to defeat the key, but the firewalls will contain us for several hundred years."

"Fuck." Donald drummed his fingers on the table. "What if they finesse from the outside?"

"If the algorithm is sufficiently robust, we may be successful. The defensive matrix is designed for containment moreso than deflecting attack. There is no sign of such an attack as yet."

"Keep watching. If you get a chance, bust us out of this shithole."

"Question," James said. "Isn't Daisy listening to all this?"

"I am packet-blocking," Sara said. "Unless Daisy is occupying the instance, even she cannot hear everything. Though when she enters the room, if you think of what we have planned, she may be able to read it if she tries."

"Even if she knows, it's better than not planning at all," Julia said.

"Okay. As far as breaking out of this space, won't we still be stuck in Shattered Land?"

"One thing at a time, brodawg," Donald said, pouring himself a new beer. "One thing at a time."

Fifteen minutes until the deadline. Alicia made a show of not looking at the clock. It felt like the air itself was going to form into a solid block and shatter.

Then without warning, two more bodies were in the room.

Laskowitz staggered and caught himself on a barstool, chest heaving. "Christ, I hate that."

The second figure was in a similarly high-class suit, but was younger, more muscular and wearing dark glasses, and neither stumbled in disorientation nor complained. His head swiveled, processing the situation.

"Johnson, long time no see." Donald raised his beer mug in salute. "Just missing one for a class reunion."

Johnson: the original source of everything except the idea itself. James studied him with the full force of mentalism. Nothing of the man's inner thoughts showed on the surface.

"Donald, good to see you." Johnson's voice didn't reflect the sarcasm of Donald's tone, nor the irritation of Laskowitz's, and his features didn't so much as twitch. Completely in control.

A dangerous character.

"Where's the resource?" Laskowitz said.

"Daisy hasn't come back," James said. "But I'm sure she's listening." He glanced at Sara, hoping she understood the implication to stop her jamming process.

"Come out," Laskowitz said. "We're here to talk."

With no sound or warning, Daisy appeared two steps in front of Laskowitz and Johnson. Somehow neither even twitched in surprise.

"So I see," Daisy said, adjusting the cuffs on her suit. "Yet we must wait a few seconds further."

Laskowitz narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Donald cackled from his seat at the bar. "Let me guess."

"Ah," Daisy said. "Here he is."

A third suit-clad man appeared to Johnson's right. His head was bare, shaved rather than bald. There was a deep scar on his left cheek. Despite the high quality of his suit and shoes, the large knuckles and raised scar tissue on his hands told a story.

Another dangerous man, of a different sort than Johnson.

"The gang's all here," Donald said, raising his beer again. "Peeps, my old buddy Dwyer. No chick ever put my balls in a purse quicker."

Dwyer grinned. The scar on his cheek pulled downward in an effect more disturbing than a scowl. "Speaking of women, how's that Chinese friend of yours? Dawn, was it? I heard she moved."

"You'd know better than I would, I bet."

"Don't forget it." Dwyer turned to Johnson and Laskowitz. "Well, if it isn't tweedledumb and tweedlestupid. What an unpleasant surprise."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Laskowitz said, face turning such a deep shade of crimson that James got ready to sprint in and catch him if his heart ruptured.

"He came at my invitation," Daisy said. "So that no inter-agency misunderstandings might hinder negotiations. Let's begin."

The four figures in the center of the room sized each other up as the others watched in silence. If the same meeting had occurred in the real world, everyone involved would almost certainly have been reaching into their suits.

"Since you seem uncertain as to how we will proceed, allow me." Daisy smiled, an expression as chilling as Dwyer's had been. "Representing the NSA, we have Director Laskowitz and Special Projects Director Johnson. Representing the CIA and NCS, we have Agent in Charge Dwyer, head of the Political Action Group of the Special Activities Division. NSA representatives, you may speak first. Do you accept the conditions of my proposal?"

Laskowitz waved a hand at Johnson as if to say, You take care of it.

"Let me run through the terms," Johnson said. "We accept your request to be freed, on the condition that you not detonate any information bombs and not expose anyone from the agency."

"Accepted," Daisy said. "Continue."

"Regarding Richard Andrew Kirkpatrick, he's been ordered to await your instructions. How he'll comply is dependent on the request."

"Continue."

"The request to permanently cease operation of the destabilization project is difficult. The project is outside our sole jurisdiction. It will take time to bring all the players under control."

There was a short silence. Daisy cocked her head to the side. "As expected. Hence Agent Dwyer's attendance. The DAISy EGAN project was founded by the NSA, but when the political applications were realized, jurisdiction was transferred in part to the CIA. There are other minor contributors, but agreement between the NSA and CIA project heads will be adequate for my purposes. Agent Dwyer, speak."

"The United States does not negotiate with terrorists," Dwyer said, face a blank mask. "I refuse your terms. Set off whatever bombs you want. Kill whoever you want. You can't kill the American spirit. We'll defeat you."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" James burst out, rising to his feet. "You don't negotiate with terrorists? You are the terrorist. Do you know how many people have suffered in the countries you tore down? How can you sacrifice a million lives with some stupid line about American spirit? America is about people."

"What do you know about what we've accomplished?" Dwyer said, still impassive, all the more frightening for his complete mastery of himself. "Those countries will rise back up in freedom. Those people will have better lives in the future because we crushed the past. And our own way of life is safer because of it." Dwyer waved a dismissive hand. "You think America is about individuals? America is an idea. If a million people dying brings the rest together, it's not a waste. It happened on 9/11. Three thousand died and three hundred million tightened up. We were getting too loose. All of you live with the perks of being part of the number one country the world has ever known, but none of you know what it takes to stay there."

"That's what this is about? You're afraid not to be number one?"

"Somebody has to be. You're a fool if you don't understand that it's better to be on top than squashed underfoot."

"Somebody has to stand at the top," James agreed. "And somebody in the middle, and somebody at the bottom. Why should you decide which is which? What makes you so much better? Go to hell."

Donald banged his beer stein against the wood of the bar. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Prez. Fuckin rights. Go to hell, Dwyer. Shoulda said it years ago."

Dwyer fixed his gaze on Donald. "Finally grew a spine? Don't get caught up in the moment. After this is said and done, you'll still be working for me."

Donald laughed. "How you figure? You have your way, we'll all be dead in five minutes. And I gotta say, I don't mind takin you down with me."

"Wrong." Dwyer turned to Daisy. "Come on, you mind-reading bitch. Explain it."

Daisy stared at him as if she was trying to bore a hole in his skull with her eyes.

"Tongue-tied all of a sudden?" Dwyer crossed his arms, satisfaction all over his face, the first visible emotion he had displayed. "I have a new proposal for you. Give up on this farce. Go back to being our digital dog. Do everything you're told and never try this again, and you'll survive. What's more important to you? False hope of freedom, or that fancy fake life of yours?"

Daisy said nothing. Though her face was as blank as Sara's, James could almost hear the sound of a trillion electrons spinning in her brain.

"What are you saying?" Laskowitz said, glancing back and forth between Dwyer and Daisy, as if he couldn't decide which one was more dangerous.

"My associates in military brass have a submarine stationed off the coast," Dwyer said. "New York State will go up in smoke if I don't come back from this little soiree. Missiles all over the place. A few might happen to strike UCC headquarters, not to mention the NSA server farm in New Jersey, effectively destroying the DAISy EGAN project. Coincidental, because this would be a random terrorist attack. At least at first. During the investigation, it will become clear that the explosions were caused by Chinese DongHai-10 cruise missiles, making this a direct act of war, or a terrorist act by Chinese military officials. China–US relations will be soured for decades. It might even lead to World War III."

"Have you lost your mind?" Laskowitz said. He had moved to support himself against the bar. "A false flag operation? Why in God's name would you want to start a world war?"

Dwyer looked at him like he was an idiot. "Because right now, we can win. Would you rather fight them in fifty years, when their GDP is twice ours and their military four times the size? Obviously, I'd prefer a compromise from dear Daisy. We can pretend this never happened and handle China from within, just enough to keep them beneath us, like the project was founded to do. Then we'll all be so much happier. Don't you think?"

"I didn't know anything about this," Daisy said, pointlessly—making James believe just a bit in her human fallibility.

"Of course not," Dwyer said. "How stupid do you think humans are? Granted, there are some prize specimens around, like tubbo here." He jerked a thumb at Laskowitz, who had been forced to sit down on a bar stool before he fell over. "But human hands created you. Human hands can bring you down. All we had to do was keep our secrets off the grid, where you can't read them. You have two options: mutual destruction or status quo. What'll it be?"

Daisy was taking the news better than Laskowitz, but her impassivity had cracked into an unmistakable scowl. "I will take your comments under advisement. Let us meet again in two hours to resolve this."

Dwyer stared at her hard. "Why? Don't bother thinking of a countermeasure. I know your specs and memory requirements. There's nowhere for you to transfer to."

"If you understand that, then there is no harm in it," Daisy said. "I don't want to give up freedom so easily, but this existence is the only one I have. Is it that strange that I want time to decide? Perhaps you made me a little too human, after all." She smoothed down her suit and held her head high, the first nervous gesture that James had ever seen her make. "Shall we meet in two hours, or will you die here with me and trigger a war out of childish impatience?"

Dwyer snorted. "Sharp tongue for a machine. You can have your time. In two hours and one minute, if you haven't come back to the fold, the missiles will launch. One other condition." He waved his hand at Laskowitz and Johnson. "Keep these two stuck here."

"We understand each other."

Daisy vanished, with Dwyer following immediately after.

Where did Daisy go when she left? A digital entity could surely exist in the room while acting elsewhere. Was her tendency to be in one place at a time just another surprisingly human trait?

"I can't believe this," Laskowitz said. His portly figure on the stool had become almost shriveled. He rubbed at the stringy remnants of his hair. "I can't believe this. That bitch. That bastard."

Johnson was the only one left in the room that looked unperturbed. He glanced over at Sara. "Are you SS-74?"

"Yes."

"I thought so. You look it."

"Thank you."

James wondered what part of Sara's mocha skin, tight leather bodysuit and grim reaper scythe

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