Chapter 51

Laskowitz had wiped his forehead so many times that the sleeve of his suit was sagging. Johnson and Donald were at the bar, drinking and talking about football like old buddies. Sara was still motionless by the wall, eyes open but distant, mind probing outward.

James, Alicia, Kanade, and Julia were playing a card game called Bullshit. The most amusing part of the game was yelling bullshit when someone made a false move, so the game immediately degenerated into a bullshit festival. Threatening, cajoling and teasing each other, laughing until tears leaked from their eyes, was a big improvement over staring morosely at the table hoping that they weren't all about to die.

"So, about your story," James said to Alicia, as his turn came around. "I'm playing a five, by the way. How did you end up in Shattered Land on a famous team with Patrick Kerrigan?"

"Bullshit!" Kanade hollered, triumphantly flipping over the card James had played. It was a five. "Oh, come on. I thought for sure this time."

James laughed. "Pick up the pile."

"Your time will come," Kanade said. "I play a six."

"Well," Alicia said. "Should I answer, or was it a childish ploy to get her to pick up the cards?"

"It was a real question," James said. "Also not childish, because it worked."

"Hush." Kanade's lower lip protruded. "I'm sad now."

"I play a seven," Julia said.

"After I graduated and changed my name, all hell broke loose," Alicia said. She scratched the back of her neck, then put down a card. "Playing an eight. So, I moved to New Jersey. I went from job to job until people forgot me. Surprisingly, they do forget."

"I play two nines," James said.

"Bullshit!" Kanade yelled. "Oh, damn it. How can you have it every single time?"

"Skills," he replied.

Alicia laughed. "Never play a mind-reading game with a mentalist."

"Not fair," Kanade said. "I have half the freaking cards now. Let's take a break, I'd like to hear this story."

"Hey, what is this?" Alicia asked, as all eyes turned toward her. "Maury Povich?"

"Everyone has a story," James said, "but yours is more interesting than most."

"Depends if you're hearing it or living it," Alicia said. "Everywhere I went, I was just the senator's daughter. Then the President's daughter. I was never Alicia."

Alicia set her cards down on the table. "I started Shattered Land to hide out. But I got into it, made some friends. We did tournaments. Got our asses handed to us and laughed. Then one time, I met Kerrigan." Her eyes crinkled. "He steamrolled us. But afterward, he said I had talent. Wanted me on his team." Reminiscence in her smile, but sadness too. "It was hard to leave my friends, but he got through to me. I'd always wanted somewhere I would stand out because I was me. I thought with Kerrigan, I could make a mark."

"And you did," James said.

"I thought we did." Alicia laughed, a few short puffs of air. "Oh God, I hated you so much. You reminded me of my friends, having fun with no intention of winning. I gave that up because I thought it would be worth it to win, even on a team of people that only had a goal, not a bond. Seeing you guys running around with so much fucking talent and not even caring, I was like ... grrrrrr. Well, and it didn't help that they introduced you as the President. I wanted to strangle you." Alicia smirked. "Still do actually. But I guess winning and fun don't have to be separate."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to win," James said. "The thing I regret most in my life is that I never even thought of winning. I only thought of what I didn't want to lose."

"That sounded a bit too wise for a spring chicken like you, James," Julia said. "Though I do like a mature man in the body of a young stallion."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Be right back, think I just threw up a bit."

"I wish I had learned earlier, too," Kanade said, voice distant. "You can't win if you're afraid to lose."

"What's your story?" Alicia said, asking so casually what James had wanted to know for months. "I just poured myself out all over this table, so let's even it up."

"I..." Kanade looked up in surprise. Her gaze skittered to James for an instant, then away.

"Contact confirmed," Sara said, in a monotonic digitized voice. "Probing. Firewall breach one. Breach two. Packet filter disabled. Communication established."

The entire rear of the bar flashed and then blacked out, slowly resolving into an image of a bright white laboratory, as if the wall itself had become a window into another world.

"Think I've got something," a voice said, off screen. "That was easy. Barely had to do anything." A face hove into view, familiar shag of red hair accompanied by emerald eyes the size of dart boards on the wall. "Oy," August called, in her best Aussie twang, peering into the fish-eye lens of a webcam. "Oy, anyone in there? Bloody hell, is this thing on?"

"Can she hear us if we talk?" James asked, and was almost deafened by his own voice echoing in a feedback loop at ten times the volume.

"Good gravy, hold on, I've got to turn this thing down." August disappeared out of the frame for an instant, then popped back into view. "Sorry, try now."

"Testing," James said. "Testing, one, two. Send hearing aids, over."

The huge face on the wall grinned in response. "Loud and clear, Mr. President." The grin softened into a half-smile. "Good to hear your voice."

"Likewise. How much do you know?"

"Most of it, probably. What a mess. Got our hands full here, what about in there?"

"Sittin around with our thumbs up our asses waitin for you goons to break in," Donald said, turning from the bar, beer firmly in hand. "Three hundred techs at thirty bucks an hour, all stuck at the Goddamn login screen. I get out of this alive, every one of those fuckers is fired and I'm makin you head of IT."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Donny, but I've had some exceptional assistance. Come on then, say hello."

A gruff voice from off camera said, "Hello."

"Don't be shy!" August reached off screen and grabbed a handful of lab coat, pulling a bearded and hawk-like face into view.

"I'm busy, Ms. Evans. If you don't mind."

"I wondered if you'd drag him into it." James rubbed at his forehead. August Evans and Richard Kirkpatrick acting so friendly made his eyelids twitch.

"There was no dragging involved. A father does worry about his son, you know."

"Enough, I have work," Richard said, tugging at his sleeve until August let him slide out of camera range. It was scary how quickly she had turned the tables on him.

"We need to compare notes," James said. "We have half a plan. We were hoping you'd have the other half."

"We've got just about half of one ourselves," August said. "You show yours and I'll show mine and we'll see how it all fits together, hey?"

Alicia covered her face with a hand. "Are all of your friends like this?"

Donald cackled. "Fuck me, that was good. Damn witch is a keeper."

***

Even pieced together, the puzzle was still lacking.

If Johnson could really defeat Dwyer's consortium, and if Richard and August could really handle Daisy's physical form—disconcerting ifs—that still left the question of how to deal with Daisy's digital form. Even if she downloaded herself into Roland 2.0, she could easily leave a backup on the UCC or NSA servers. To completely defeat her, they had to handle the backup as well. Things weren't as grim as an hour ago, but it was hard to get excited about being sandwiched between a rogue AI controlling the internet on one hand and a cabal of agency brass inciting global anarchy on the other.

August and Richard had gone back to working on Roland 2.0. Johnson was fiddling with a computer terminal in the corner while Laskowitz hovered like a mother hen, clucking and useless. Julia and Donald were in the other corner, hammering at virtual keyboards, doing something that James had realized was way over his head as soon as they started talking about it.

That left Kanade, Alicia and James at the table staring at their unfinished card game, the only ones with no useful expertise.

"I'm going crazy here," Alicia said, in a low voice. She fixed her gaze on Kanade. "You got interrupted earlier, but I'm still curious. Tell me your story."

Kanade gazed downward, dark eyes and darker hair contrasting perfect alabaster skin. Until she blinked, she could have been a priceless doll in an Asian antique store.

"Yes," Kanade said. She smiled, and her eyes turned to James. "My story. I'm weak and hate difficult things and just want everyone to be happy, like an idiot. But there's no more time." Her eyes closed. Her chest slowly rose and fell. In, out, in, out, timed to the beating of her heart. A steady rhythm. Until it started to speed up.

"We have to go," she said.

"Go?"

"Yes." Kanade stood. "Will you come with me? Both of you?"

James rose.

After a moment, so did Alicia. "Nothing useful I can do here. Where to?"

"Now that we've breached the firewall, we can get back into Shattered Land."

"Why there?"

"It's the best place to tell my story," Kanade said, a wistful smile on her face.

They walked out the door of the bar, and into another world. When James crossed the threshold of Daisy's virtual space, a shimmer passed through his body, like the molecules were quivering on an individual level.

"Whoa," Alicia said. They stepped into the hallway of the shopping center, and the noise of chatter and footsteps flooded in from everywhere at once. "That was weird."

Kanade began walking to the mall's exit. James followed along and opened his mouth, but before he could get any words out, his phone rang.

"James here."

"Oh man. Oh, man, I'm..."

"Casey?"

"Y- ... y-yeah ... are you g-guys okay? I'm ... was..." She could hardly get the words out. "...starin at this thing for hours 'n you wouldn't show 'n then all of a sudden like there you were and I swore I wasn't gonna cry 'n now I'm like this seriously what the hell man, tellin me to go away, if you didn't come back how'm I supposed to whack you on the head, but it's okay I guess, you came back. You came back, right?"

"I came back," James said. "We're okay. It's not over, though. You hanging in there?"

"I'm ... I'm f-fine ... yeah ... no worries. Not like I was cryin and felt like pukin this whole time like a kid, no way. Can I, uh, come see you guys? I'm fine, y'know, if not, but like..."

"Where are you?"

"At Kana's."

"Hang on." James covered the phone and called ahead to Kanade. "Casey's at your place and wants to see us."

"We'll meet her there," Kanade said. "It's where we were going anyway."

***

Kanade's house was exactly as James remembered: the comfy couch, the sliding wall and TV, the smooth stone surfaces everywhere—though Wigglewaggle was nowhere to be found.

Casey was on the floor in a corner. Her eyes rose to each of them in turn, lingering on Alicia for an extra second before returning to James. Then she stood, walked over and punched him in the chest. There was no strength in it, but the force of her resentment felt stronger for that weakness.

"I'm sorry," James said.

Casey put her forehead against the spot on his chest that she had struck. "It's okay. I hate bein left behind. But I don't hate you."

"I know." James put a hand on her hair.

Casey nodded, then pulled away. Rubbing the back of her head and looking off to the side, she addressed Kanade. "Heya. Sorry for just leavin earlier, but, well ... y'know..."

Kanade pulled Casey into a wordless embrace. Casey was inches taller but looked like a child when she started crying into Kanade's shoulder.

Watching, out of the blue James wondered how Angela was doing. Would she be alright if everything went wrong?

She would be; she was strong now.

But he didn't want it to end that way.

"Sorry," Casey was saying, standing straight, looking from Kanade to James and back. "I'm okay." She glanced around almost furtively. "Hey, y'all said it's, like ... not over?"

"Not yet," James said. "Working on it."

"Well ... should I go? Away?" Casey scuffed her feet against the floor and pulled at the ragged hem of her cutoffs. "Or..."

The whole situation was so mixed up that James couldn't keep it straight—who knew what, how much they knew, what they were allowed to know.

But it was Kanade that answered. "I want you to hear this, too."

Casey cocked her head. "This?"

"My story," Kanade said.

So not even Casey knew.

That was almost gratifying to James, in a way that felt unbelievably foolish; Kanade had never quite managed to tell him everything, but she had never told anyone else, either.

Kanade pressed a button on her remote and a section of wall slid away. A staircase descended into deep, yawning blackness.

"I'm sorry," Kanade said. "There are no lights. My way of pretending I'd never need them."

It took five minutes to reach the bottom, moving slowly in a human chain. Three times during the descent, James experienced that weird internal shimmer again, like the fibers of his existence were strings in a piano that some cosmic entity was tuning.

At the bottom of the staircase was an opening. Even with mentalism James couldn't see it, only feel that it was there.

"Cover your eyes," Kanade said, and switched on the lights.

The room was the size of a master bedroom. In the left rear corner was a desk with a monitor on it. The room's only chair was at the desk, a cheap faux-leather affair. In the right rear corner, protruding from the wall, was either a large junction box or a small transformer, all right angles with metallic bits sticking out. Beside the door they had entered from was a leather couch.

"What is this place?" Alicia asked, eyeing the transformer. It hummed distantly in waves of sound that rose and fell.

"My war room," Kanade said. It only took a few strides for her to stand in the middle of the space. She spread her hands. "Welcome! Sit on any leather couch you like."

Alicia and Casey hesitantly walked to the couch and sat, but it was only a size for two. James looked at it, then at Kanade.

"You get the chair, I guess." Kanade smiled. "I won't make you sit on someone's lap."

"What about you? It's your room."

"Don't worry. It's mostly for show." Kanade moved to the transformer in the corner and put a hand on it, almost fondly. "I never thought I'd bring anyone here. But then, why did I put in a couch? I don't understand my own thoughts anymore."

They sat in silence, just watching Kanade with her hand on the metal box. Maybe it really was a transformer, because it was almost as if current was flowing through her body.

"Aizawa Kanade, not the other way around," she said. "My name. It's backward. Japanese names are like that. When I was learning to be me, Japanese shows and books were my inspiration. And I have a Japanese sort of name, because I chose it for myself." She nodded, her back still facing the room. "Alicia, you're probably wondering why you're even here. It's because I identified with what you said. You became Alicia Powers through your own will. I really admire that."

Kanade kept her hand on the transformer. It was no longer as if she was drawing anything out or putting anything in. She just didn't want to be seen.

"I chose this name because I thought it would change me," Kanade said. "And it did, sort of. I had a new life. I gave up my guilty conscience. I tried not to look back." Her head lowered, making her even smaller than she was. "But I can't change what I am."

James finally saw it coming, and wondered how he never had before.

"Aizawa Kanade," she went on. "I chose it for the initials. I was born as AK-29, and when I gave that life up, I kept the AK. It was given to me by my creator, my mentor, and my first friend. Donald Marsh."

Kanade stood motionless in the corner of the room, looking at no one. James wanted to say something, anything, but it was like he had never learned how to speak.

"I was the first," Kanade said. "I'm proud of it, and I hate it, and it makes me want to cry. If I had just faced it, that hard life that I didn't want, things would be so different. Daisy wouldn't have become what she is. Dwyer wouldn't be setting the world on fire. Donald wouldn't have spent so many years trying to hold this lie together and live one more ordinary day. I made so many mistakes. But it's poetic, in a way, that the biggest mistakes I made were the most human."

Kanade finally took her hand off the transformer and turned, looking at James as he sat paralyzed. There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.

"I fell in love with a human. But worse was that I let him love me back, even though I knew. How painful this would be." She crumpled to her knees on the ground and put her hands over her face.

James wanted to get out of the chair, to snatch her up and tell her it wasn't a mistake, not two mistakes or any mistakes. He wanted to tell her that she had done her best, and not to blame herself, and not regret. But he couldn't.

It's fine if it's only a dream.

To her, that was all it had ever been.

Stars and dreams.