Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. I do, however, own my own characters. I am not profiting from this story.
Recursive Nature beeped from my wrist, once again reminding me of the wait I had already incurred. My initial expectations of Cloverleaf's Vale campus, once as vibrant as the propaganda they packed the airwaves with, withered even further.
Perhaps I had placed too much faith in my mother's employer.
The Cloverleaf office hummed around me. To the casual observer, the space gave off the appearance of productivity. In reality, it was probably just paper pushing and saccharine smiles—a sour pill when I realized the length of the customer service line, but I swallowed it nonetheless.
After all, no one argues with the only company with potential to overtake the SDC in quarterly earnings. In comparison to the SDC's grisly workplace environment and its equally vehement HR department, Cloverleaf's management was a blessing.
Situated at the heart of the commercial district, Cloverleaf's Vale branch was all glass windows and sharp edges, a declaration against the status quo among the traditional brick-and-mortar stores. Customers shuffled in and out of the doors constantly, and bright colors from their video screens splashed onto the streets at all times of day. Fun and peppy incarnate, if there ever was one.
That image stopped at the second floor. Sure, video game cabinets and whiteboard walls helped disguise the cubicles lurking underneath, but an office was an office.
With, unfortunately, the same hoops to jump through.
As I scrolled through Comet, I thought back to my morning greeting—Adrian had roused APCT to good news. Apparently, Ozpin had pulled strings the previous night to keep both the police and the press off our backs. His written statement touted enough legalese to make my head spin, and even against Glass's maneuvers, Ozpin's legal barricade stood fast. In short, the four of us were still students at Beacon, nothing more, nothing less.
Allowing me to take a weekend visit to Cloverleaf—and hopefully, my mother.
I continued to scan my code in Comet, searching for bugs and inefficiencies. To crack Glass's encryption, I needed to find a key. While a brute force method of checking every possible passcode was relatively easy to implement, a back-of-the-envelope calculation pegged my Scroll's runtime at years at best and decades at the worst. Even utilizing my team's Scrolls or Beacon's computational resources, the program would still require weeks to terminate—time we didn't have.
Instead, I was left with two options—search faster, or search smarter. I started with the latter.
I spent the morning reviewing published implementations of dictionary attacks and modified "smart" searches. After adjusting the implementations to suit my needs, I compiled a list of phrases Glass may have used in his passwords. Adrian helped, too, offering information of Glass's personal life he had gleaned from public and private interactions with the politician. A repository of leaked passwords helped round out the algorithm's robustness.
However, no amount of picking away at the mountain of potential passwords would ever result in a climbable foothill. Standing at the base of the metaphorical mountain, I decided to pay Cloverleaf's Vale branch a visit. Surely they would have the computational resources to break Glass's passwords.
The problem was getting access. Enter Robin Hayes.
"Hello, sir, how may I help you?" The receptionist's voice lilted in an overly-rehearsed manner. Situated behind a large computer monitor, her fingers clacked over the keys, and her eyes darted between the computer screen and me.
"I'm here to see Robin Hayes," I replied.
"Do you have an appointment with Ms. Hayes today?" she asked.
"No, but—"
Her curt response cut me off. "Then I'm sorry, you cannot see her. Would you like to visit with Ms. Woodbury instead?"
"No, I need to speak with—"
Her eyes stopped meeting mine, and any semblance of her prior cheerfulness vanished. "That's not possible, sir. Ms. Hayes has an extremely busy schedule. I can only help those with prearranged appointments."
Her dismissal got on my nerves. "I'm her son," I stated.
The sounds of her typing paused. I found her gaze reluctantly returning to mine. "Even so, she's in a meeting right now," she said. "Corporate policy tells me the best I can do is send a message up to the fifth floor."
The fifth floor…
"Forget it, I'll come back later," I said. I left the bewildered receptionist and headed towards the elevators. When the elevator arrived, I stepped in. A quick application of my Semblance silenced the native AI and routed me to the fifth floor.
A short ride later, I found myself in a sea of cubicles. Conference rooms and executive offices ringed the space, but even with Cloverleaf's obsession with glass, I didn't spy my mother. Shrugging my shoulders back in an effort to ward away inquisitive looks, I waded into the grid of desks and copy machines.
It didn't take me long to locate my mother's ruddy locks. Situated on the opposite side of the building from the bank of elevators, the conference room was dominated by a massive oaken slab and my mother's enthusiastic presentation. Suited men and women surrounded the long table, and all eyes looked her way.
Apparently, my mother knew how to put on a show.
I moved to where I could see my mother's slideshow. The current slide displayed a complex mathematical formula and an intricate diagram. I attempted to decipher it; I could only make out the words 'public key' and 'private key.' Cybersecurity—my mother's element.
Suddenly, her gesticulations stopped. Looking away from the slide, I locked eyes with my mother, red on red. She blinked, offered a few words to the gathering, and then burst out of the room. Before I could utter a greeting, she wrapped me in a tight embrace.
"Phoenix! What a surprise to see you here," she said. Breaking the hug, she stepped back, smoothing out my shirt. "I expected you to be at Beacon, what with all the hubbub."
I winced. "You heard?"
She rolled her eyes, but her easy grin was contagious. "Who hasn't? I woke up to forty voicemails from friends and colleagues," she said. "Even the head of the Cloverleaf Vale branch had a few words for me this morning."
My eyebrows rose. "Really?" I gave a nervous chuckle. "Looks like I'm the talk of the town."
My mother laughed. "Your time in the limelight will fade soon enough, hun. Give it twenty-four hours." She gave a shrug. "By then, Glass will have moved on to fry bigger fish."
My smile fell. "Calder Douglas, you mean."
"Unfortunately, yes," she said, drooping a bit. A second passed, then she looked back to the conference room as if noticing them for the first time. Peeking over her shoulder, I found half the room staring at us and the other half tapping away at Scrolls and tablets.
"Oh, I'd better tell them who you are," my mother said to me. "One moment."
Returning to the glass-walled room, she spent a minute conversing with a man near the door. She pointed to me, prompting the man to swivel around and cast me a glance. Turning back to my mother, the man nodded reluctantly. A few more words were traded, then she exited the room. Whisking past me, she said, "Follow me."
We threaded our way past rows of cubicles. Before long, we arrived at an executive office in the corner of the building. Waving her Scroll by the door scanner, my mother turned the knob and waved me in.
As she shut the door behind me, I glanced about the space. Overlooking Vale proper, the office's view rivaled Ozpin's, and the plush carpeting and generous furnishings softened any instinctive formality. Following my mother's example, I sank into one of the chairs scattered about the room.
"Sorry about that, hun," my mother said. "Corporate doesn't usually condone abrupt changes of schedule."
"I didn't expect you to leave your meeting, though," I said. Motioning to the room, I said, "Or usurping someone else's office, for that matter."
My mother snorted. "Lucio won't mind. He understands that I haven't seen you in months." Sitting up, she leaned towards me. "So, tell me all about it."
"My mission?" At her nod, I gave her a summarized version of Ozpin's detailed fabrication. My mother's subsequent questions were either easily fielded or deflected with the mention of the dubious NDA's surrounding the whole 'ordeal.'
My mother sat back in her chair. "Your adventure sounds leagues more exciting than your father's. I can only hear so much about Forever Fall and Grimm fishing expeditions before I threaten him with a lecture on modular arithmetic." She grinned. "That quiets him pretty quickly." We shared a laugh.
"But enough about that," she said. "You aren't the type to visit your mother on a whim." She cocked her head inquisitively. "Something brought you here."
On my walk to the Cloverleaf office, I had pondered what I was going to tell my mother. On one hand, mention of password cracking would have likely been met with gusto. On the other hand, following Ozpin's stark denial of APCT's criminal activity with blatant evidence to the contrary wasn't the brightest idea. So, I settled on the middle road—obscure the real motivations for my visit, but relent if she pressed.
"A combinatorics project, actually," I responded. "I've written up a few algorithms I'd like to test, but I don't have the computational resources to complete them in a reasonable timeframe." I gestured to my Scroll pointedly.
My mother quirked an eyebrow. "Combinatorics, at a time like this? In the wake of a Grimm attack, no less."
I shrugged. "It's something that's been sitting in Comet for a while now," I said. "Besides, you wanted to see me this weekend, so I thought I could kill two Nevermores with one stone."
"Fair enough," my mother said. "As a matter of fact, I do have access to a small chunk of Cloverleaf's R&D cluster. I'll load your program onto it—on one condition."
"What would that be?" I asked.
She smiled. "I get to test my new security exploits against your Scroll."
I blinked. Looks like both of us were interested in prying into where we weren't supposed to. Oh, the irony.
"I accept," I said, handing her my Scroll. "What does your test entail?"
She tapped a few times at my Scroll, ostensibly to set up her program. "I've been working with Cloverleaf to identify exploits in their OS. Over these past few weeks, I've concocted a general battery of tests to prod against a few backdoors Cloverleaf left during their last big software update."
After consulting me for some of my Scroll's passwords, she continued. "However, you've always been one to experiment with strengthening your device's security. I'm curious to see what patches you've made."
I shrugged noncommittally. "I guess we'll find out."
After a jumble of confirmation screens and command line inputs, my Scroll's screen faded into the pen and parchment logo.
"My analysis will take a bit of time, probably a few minutes," my mother said. Setting my Scroll on the desk, she turned to look out the window. Bullheads crossed the sky lazily, and repair teams dotted the streets, tending to broken windowpanes and cracked façades.
"Mom," I started. "What's your opinion on artificial intelligence?"
"What about it, hun?" she asked.
I forced thoughts of RUST from my mind, else I make my mother suspicious. "Who are the big players? Is Cloverleaf one of them?" I asked.
My mother put a finger to her lips. "Well, I can't say for sure, but during my comings and goings here, I've heard rumors of a certain Project Rosemary."
"Rosemary?"
She nodded. "Yes. Apparently, Cloverleaf is developing a more proficient AI than the one they currently have on the market. They aim to integrate it into all their devices in a few years, and plans to expand into the 'smart home' or general assistant markets aren't unheard of, either."
I hummed. "But what about their capabilities right now?"
"Atlesian Knights run a sophisticated combat AI—or, at least it was sophisticated by standards set a decade ago," she said. "Meanwhile, CCT towers host AI that converse easily with customers and can perform menial tasks, such as data retrieval."
I crossed my arms. "So nothing truly groundbreaking, then," I said.
My mother laughed. "Moore's Law has desensitized you," she said. "When I was growing up, any machine that could talk was considered revolutionary."
"I guess," I said. "In any case, if I wanted to visit centers of AI development, where would I go?"
"Leaving so soon?" my mother asked. Her mock hurt tone caused me to roll my eyes. "As usual, CAIRN's campus hosts the best and brightest, but Mistral's theoretical output isn't something to ignore."
My Scroll gave off a chime. Focusing on the device, I watched the screen flash and spit out a ream of text. At a dialogue prompt, my mother tapped in a few letters. Satisfied, she handed the device back to me.
"Thanks, hun," she said. "I'm eager to examine the data." Rising from her seat, she said, "Now, let's get you set up with R&D."
Cloverleaf R&D, located on the seventh floor, looked much more like a server room than an office. Fans buzzed, keeping server stacks and computer clusters cool. Several technicians sat cross-legged among the stacks, a tablet balanced on a knee and wires from the stacks splayed in every direction.
"I know it's not pretty, but it helps the world go 'round," my mother mused. "The main terminal is in the corner."
After my mother logged in to the terminal, we spent the next few minutes transferring my program into the system and ensuring the output would be sent to my Scroll upon completion. I was pleased to acquire a link that would allow me to check up on my program's progress. Additionally, in the case of a crash, the same link could restart the program and issue small patches.
I sighed when my mother finally pressed 'enter.'
"There you have it," my mother said. "Sixty-four gigabytes of memory, doing your bidding." She turned off the terminal's screen. "How's it feel?"
Relieving. Exciting. Satisfying. Progress measured in millions of bits hummed behind me, sifting through billions of possibilities in the blink of an eye.
"Pretty good," I responded. "After fighting Grimm, a little math is a pleasant respite."
She wrapped me in a one-armed hug. "That's my son," she said. "Now, unfortunately, I must get back to work. I may get free roam of their office, but my excuses only work for so long."
"I understand," I said.
"Let me show you out," my mother offered. "I'll text you when you can visit this weekend—free of any board meetings, I promise."
An elevator ride and a kiss on the cheek later, I found myself retracing my steps to the air ferry station.
Glass's files's days were limited.
The soft clank of Recursive Nature's finished transformation marked the start of the spar. No blows flew, yet the coiled energy in our limbs promised strikes to come. Eyes flitted from weapon to weapon, person to person, reading familiar cues and analyzing them with a feverish pace engendered by anticipation and adrenaline.
The art of war was not in the strike, but in how one struck. Speed and strength struggled for dominance in a duel, but strategy trumped all.
Keeping my sword low, I circled warily to the left. I sensed Adrian an arm's length to my right, Riptide held diagonally across his chest. His battle tactics echoed in my head.
Across from me, Terra gripped Brisk Solution like a bat. The bludgeon had me involuntarily flinching—the ghost of Griffin's chain mace played out on my ribs. My Aura flared restlessly.
Shifting my gaze to my other opponent, I found Harmony pointed my way. Caelum's other hand hovered over his shoulder, prepared to retrieve Melody at a moment's notice.
Dust allowed. Non-blunted tips. No-holds-barred.
A true two-on-two showdown.
I recalled Adrian's conjecture—with Terra's hand-on-hand preference and Caelum's ability to provide middle or melee range support, the two constituted a force that hit hard without remorse.
They would show no mercy.
A hitch in Adrian's breathing signaled the start of our attack. A single surge of Aura into my legs launched me into Caelum's guard. Longsword clashed against rapier, metal screeching against carbon-fiber, as we grappled for an upper hand. Next to me, Riptide met every single one of Terra's blows. I smirked—Adrian's unrelenting defense wasn't something to be written off by a simple display of force.
A redoubling of pressure from Harmony caused me to refocus my attentions on the musician. Likely sensing an opening, Caelum directed Recursive Nature to the side with an Aura-powered motion and followed with a fist. I brought my pommel up to stop his blow, but the Aura-infused appendage met my sword soundly, jarring my arm. My arm grew numb from the strike, and my grip on Recursive Nature weakened. Anticipating Harmony to disarm me, I jumped backwards.
Harmony whisked past my wrist, whistling through the space my pommel had been just a half second earlier. A clever gambit, but Caelum likely hedged on my detecting it.
Harmony's capitalizing thrust, which I barely managed to deflect, was proof of that.
We all had good battle sense—years of sparring and careful instruction had ensured that much. Now, it was a matter of endurance and wit. Who would crack first?
It sure wasn't going to be me.
I responded to Caelum's thrust with one of my own. When he parried it in kind, we fell into a pattern of strike and counterstrike, jab, parry, riposte, dodge, feint. Finely-honed instincts sharpened by quick eyes and minds prevented either party from incurring major blows, but small hits cut through every few seconds. Our Auras dropped slowly but steadily, mistake upon mistake making themselves known in time.
A glance at my Scroll showed me the one with greater Aura reserves. At that moment, Terra decided to switch dueling partners.
My admiration at Terra's battle awareness crumpled under the fusillade I now faced.
Brisk Solution sailed in from my right. The flat of my blade halted the wrench, but a slow response to Harmony's concurrent flight cost me a point in the ribs. Crying out, I channeled Aura into my limbs, allowing me to force back Terra's bludgeon and bat Harmony's tip to the ground.
"Adrian," I called. A grunt of acknowledgement sounded from behind me, and then Riptide's report boomed. I expected one of them to cease their attack, what with bullets pinging off their armor and Aura at a steady pace, but they continued their onslaught, as if unaware of my partner's gunfire.
I grit my teeth. Very well.
Slicing to my right, I impacted one of Terra's force projections with my blade. When I drove Harmony to the side with my arm guard, Caelum automatically took a step back. I feinted towards his retreat, only to send Recursive Nature flying back in Terra's direction. With a cry of surprise, Terra hastily cast another force projection, stopping my blade in full.
Bringing my blade back inside my guard, I stepped towards Caelum, hoping to capitalize on his retreat.
Unfortunately, my offensive never started.
Behind me, Terra brought Brisk Solution to bear. At point-blank range, her birdshot dug into my back. I could feel my Aura strain against the projectiles, my Aura reserves plummeting at the shot. Staggering forward, Terra's bludgeon clipped the back of my head. My forward motion softened the blow, yet I still tumbled to the ground, my vision spinning.
Performing what I hoped was a roll, I managed to stand. Whirling Recursive Nature around me in an attempt to ward away another hit, I blinked to clear the stars from my vision. When my sight cleared, I spied Terra on course to engage with Adrian. Caelum stood before me, Harmony trained on my form.
My incipient headache throbbed with my hammering heartbeat. I placed my hand on my head, as if reminding my Aura to mask the pain. In a second, the pain dropped to manageable levels. Enough for me to think, at least.
As Caelum and I faced each other, I spared my Scroll a glance. My Aura sat at a pretty 34%, the lowest out of the four of us by no small means.
Crossing swords with Caelum would be more evenly matched this time around, as I was slightly dazed. What's more, my preferred offensive tactics would invite damaging blows to sneak through my defenses—damage I could not afford to incur.
Fighting Caelum defensively wouldn't net me any benefits, either. Withholding retaliating strikes out of fear of losing what Aura I had remaining impaired my potential to win a skirmish, and I severely doubted my ability to outlast the musician, given my battered state.
Which left me one option…
I spun on my heels and ran at Adrian, supplying what Aura I dared into my legs to speed my passage.
As I ran, I watched as Terra swung her bludgeon downwards, only to meet the center of Adrian's staff. Adrian's counter, a low sweep at her feet, was blocked by an expertly placed force projection.
Despite the adrenaline roaring through my veins and the blood pumping in my ears, I found myself marveling at the pair's disparate fighting styles. Warriors too often get buried in the intricacies of battle, ignoring style to examine technique. Yet the pair's stylistic juxtaposition caught my eye as I closed in.
Terra fought like a back-alley bouncer. Her forceful blows, while at first glance appeared haphazardly thrown, were undoubtedly guided by experience. No doubt confrontations involving hidden daggers and concealed handguns shaped her into a merciless hard-hitter.
In stark contrast was Adrian's fluid battle style. Flowing from one motion to the next, his movements conjured a sort of grace to mind. His unflagging defenses reflected his constant personality well.
One could watch the two fight and glean more of their personalities from a spar than a single conversation.
Such was the power of battle.
Adrian's eyes met my own, then returned to scanning for Terra's next advance. Racing past her, I gyrated on the balls of my feet and sent my blade flying at her face.
Time to enact our plan.
Emitting a shout of surprise, Terra hefted Brisk Solution into my sword's path. The two weapons crashed angrily.
Riptide whacked against Brisk Solution's other side. With synchronized movements, Adrian and I wrenched Terra's monkey wrench from her hand and sent it scattering across the concrete floor. Terra responded with a deadly glare and a pair of clenched fists.
One disarmed Terra—check.
At that moment, Caelum decided to launch a wave of sound our way. Unbalanced by his attack, I stumbled backwards, tripped over a force projection at my feet, and soon found Terra straddling my midsection, pummeling my face and chest with a flurry of blows. I attempted to cover my face with my arm, but Terra batted my feeble defense away and continued her onslaught.
Unable to prevent the attack, I sent Aura to my head and chest. Terra pressed on, and I felt my Aura reserves plunge to zero. When my Aura barrier finally dissipated with a spark of red, Terra rolled off of me and sprinted off.
Groaning, I reached for my Scroll. In seconds, Adrian's Aura joined mine.
We had been beaten.
"Good spar, everyone," Adrian called. Sitting up, I found him laying on the ground, chest heaving, Riptide at his side.
Getting to my feet, I said, "Looks like our plan didn't work out."
My leader rolled his eyes. "It worked fine. Our execution, on the other hand…"
Terra clipped Brisk Solution to her belt. "I'll admit, I didn't expect the Riptide-Recursive Nature sandwich back there." Smirking, she said, "Glad I got a chance to use my fists."
"I'm not," I said.
Terra crossed her arms. "You needed some sense beaten into you," she sneered. "You should be thanking me."
I scoffed. "As if."
Caelum offered me a bottle of water, which I eagerly accepted. "Regardless of what Terra says, it was a good fight," he said.
Adrian stood, drank from a proffered water bottle, then said, "Well, team, let's get washed up and ready for dinner. We've got—" His Scroll chimed, prompting him to look down at the device. As his eyes scanned the text, I saw him pause.
No typical message was on that screen. "What is it?" I asked.
Adrian replaced the device at his side. "Change of plans—my father's been released from his hearing."
Terra, already on her way out of the sparring arena, called back, "I'll request a ferry."
Adrian folded Riptide and stored it on his back. "Let's go."
Even though the lights were on and no enemies, Grimm or human, lay in wait behind each corner, City Hall still disconcerted me. Perhaps it was a psychological thing—enough negative events in the space may have soured all of my subsequent visits.
I shrugged my unease aside. Now was not the time to let the past cloud my thoughts. We were here for Calder, to support him through this trying ordeal.
Calder's office looked as it had just a few days prior, sans Grimm and traces of building rubble. Inside the waiting area, pairs and trios sat on benches, thumbing through tabloids and magazines. A cheery ring of a Scroll sounded from a desk to my left.
All in all, a normal governmental office.
As soon as Calder's secretary spied Adrian, she ushered us into the Councilor's office. At seeing us enter, Calder spoke a few final words into his Scroll before hanging up. He motioned for us to take a seat and offered each of us a cup of coffee. Adrian and Caelum accepted steaming mugs.
"Thanks for coming to see me," he said, rubbing his temples. "You don't know how pleasant it is to see faces whose next words aren't accusations or face-saving maneuvers."
Caelum grew stony-faced. "I understand, Councilor. I am no stranger to governmental squabbling."
Calder shot him a sympathetic look. "Yes, I heard about your father after the regime fell. People are willing to do terrible things for power."
"About that," started Adrian. "Why do you suppose Glass picked now of all times to declare political war?"
The Councilor loosened his tie. "Beats me," he said. "I have my theories like everyone else, but I think Glass isn't the only player here."
"Then who are the others?" asked Terra.
Calder sighed. The vibrancy that had possessed the man was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a man a decade older.
A watched pot never boils, but a watched man never stays young.
"To answer your question, Terra, we must consult history," he said. "What do you know about the SDC?"
Pain flickered behind her eyes. "What do I know about the Schnee Dust Company? A little too much," answered Terra.
Calder gave a weak smile. "Yes, well, everyone knows a little too much about the SDC. It's a side effect of doing business with them." He leaned back in his chair, looking to the ceiling. After a pause, he said, "The SDC was founded my Nicholas Schnee, a man of good heart."
"Too few of those these days," muttered Caelum.
Calder continued as if he hadn't heard Caelum's comment. "When Nick stepped down, capitalism snuck in. Through cheap labor and wretched working conditions, the SDC soon acquired a controlling share of the Dust market. And when monopoly threatens…"
"Government scrambles for a solution," finished Adrian.
The Councilor nodded. "Exactly. But regulating Dust production led to higher Dust prices. Higher Dust prices meant less Dust to go around. Then, some overzealous intern with a penchant for statistics published an article claiming higher Dust prices directly caused an increase in mortality rates."
"From natural causes?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No, from the Grimm. The thought was that Huntsmen equipped with lower levels of Dust wouldn't be able to combat the Grimm as effectively."
Terra frowned. "But the combat schools instruct students not to rely on Dust. On many missions, Dust is banned, or at least minimized."
Calder knit his brow. "That policy was implemented following a precipitous drop in Dust production by the SDC within the last two decades. Most cite faunus protests as the reason for the shortage, but in actuality, many powers were at play."
Caelum sipped at his mug. "But at this time, the combat schools hadn't yet modified their curricula."
"Unfortunately, yes," he said. "So the Kingdom governments, trapped between preventing monopoly and preventing supposedly needless deaths, gave the SDC free reign. Faunus discrimination worsened, and politicians turned the blind eye."
"But what does this have to do with Glass?" I asked.
Calder offered me a smile. "It will all make sense soon, I promise," he said. "Fast-forward a few years—a politician by the name of Forrest ran for the Department of Commerce chair on the Council. He promised to enact a Dust subsidization policy that would assist smaller producers of Dust compete against the SDC."
"An interesting stance," Caelum said. "Surely the SDC opposed his candidacy."
"Absolutely," agreed Calder. "The SDC funneled millions of Lien to his opponent. Yet the populace, unsettled by a string of exposés and corporate corruption charges, tended to associate the SDC with vice and voted him in."
The Forrest memo scandal… Glass capitalized on that to win his election. I sensed a hidden variable in Calder's tale.
"How did Forrest feel about the faunus?" I posed.
The Councilor broke into his first genuine smile of the afternoon. "Forrest was noticeably silent about the faunus, yet his single-policy platform carried him far, a rare occurrence in government of this scale."
Adrian blinked. "And Glass wants the subsidization gone. A law enacted by his predecessor."
"A unique connection, don't you think?" mused Calder. "Note also that Glass holds at least a ten-percent share in SDC stock."
Caelum growled. "The SDC is repealing the law by proxy, Glass acting as their puppet. And all for profits…"
Adrian and I traded knowing looks. If Glass's files contained messages between his office and the SDC, the evidence would be damning.
I held up a hand. "To summarize, the SDC's lower Dust prices created a situation where governmental officials's hands were tied. Now, the SDC has a Dust subsidization law in its sights, and Glass got sucked in. Removing you from office would allow him to achieve that goal and please the SDC."
"I'm with you so far," said Calder.
"But why remove you in the first place? Glass could have waited a year for his turn as Presiding Councilor—a safer option, at least politically."
He shrugged. "Once again, we turn to conjecture. One possible reason is that the SDC is attempting to save face from renaming their heiress with a surge in quarterly earnings. Perhaps Jacques is piloting a new product and needs the assets." Calder threw his hands up. "Or maybe it's just greed."
"I wouldn't put it past him," said Terra.
Adrian set his empty mug on his father's desk. "That leaves the question of how you want to handle the impeachment."
Calder crossed his arms. "There's not much I can do. The other eight Councilors are processing today's hearing. They'll determine if they want to proceed with the impeachment, and if they do, they'll release a statement on Monday regarding their decision."
"Is there a way we could stop it?" pondered Adrian.
"I've an idea of what would do it," said Caelum. "If you held a vote on that Dust subsidization repeal."
"You're probably right," admitted Calder. "But I've been quite firm with my views about the matter. If I reverse here, Glass wins twice."
"Tied hands…" my leader muttered.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.
Learning of how Calder had been backed into a corner, I could almost see the cage surrounding him. With the public eye trained on him, he likely had never felt the weight on his shoulders this much.
Glancing between the Councilor and his son, I examined their shared features: the sweep of their hair, the set of their hunched shoulders, their slightly clenched jawline.
My flashback came to mind. Maturity masked their emotions, but an undercurrent of anxiety likely roiled beneath.
"Why'd you run for the Council?" I asked. At my question, Calder raised his eyes to meet mine.
"To better this world," he replied. "As the leader of my team at Beacon, I learned how to guide others. I learned how to relinquish my desires to further the needs of the group. But most of all, I learned that joy and love in the right places moves mountains."
I tilted my head. "So you pursued politics."
Calder shook his head. "When I ran for Councilor, I didn't want to represent politics. Politics is saying the things to get ahead of the other guy," he said. "When I ran for Councilor, I wanted to represent the people. As a public servant, my duty was to say the things to get ahead—together."
"Not everyone shares your dream," Caelum said.
Calder studied the musician. "No, but it's up to us to seal the fractures. Without us, we'll splinter until we're no more than Dust, and then until we're no more."
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The Computer and Artificial Intelligence Research iNstitute, or CAIRN, is a government-funded private branch of Atlas's Department of Science and Technology. CAIRN boasts many technology prize winners and prestigious researchers among its staff, lending to its status as the most cutting-edge computer science research facility on Remnant. Currently, CAIRN focuses on research in parallel systems, large information processing, artificial intelligence, robotics, and cybersecurity.
Founded in the years following the Great War, CAIRN placed Atlas's scattered technology research under one roof. Located on the outskirts of Atlas proper, the CAIRN campus sports a robotics lab, several supercomputer clusters, and a small microchip manufacturing plant. While it is a private branch of Atlas's government, any discoveries made by CAIRN researchers are made public, patented by the government and, if applicable, auctioned off to the private sector for marketing and mass production. As such, CAIRN sees Atlas a steady return on investments, often up to 20% when adjusted for inflation.
CAIRN is most known for its development and installation of the CCT Network.
Recently, CAIRN has drawn criticism surrounding its latest research into cybersecurity. Foreign Kingdoms claim CAIRN is withholding important results to the benefit of Atlas. Some politicians even claim that CAIRN is prepping for a cyber war, administered through the CCT. While CAIRN's staunch denial of such activity has mollified most, increased classification policy upon new direction six months prior spawned a new wave of opposition, rallying for transparency.
For further reading, see the following:
CAIRN Robotics Lab
Cross-Continental Transmit Network (CAIRN)
Kingdom of Atlas Department of Science and Technology
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Goodbye, Phoenix.
A/N: What a packed two weeks! Midterms, a new mock trial case, and another "Shift" chapter, one right after the other. It's exciting, tiring, and satisfying all at once.
I'm starting to expand into the Cloverleaf/Glass plot arc. RUST is still in the background though—don't think you've seen the last of it.
Also, Comet is essentially Eclipse, for those computer-science minded types.
That's all for now!
-CTech