Jacob glanced at his watch. Two in the morning. The drive into the city from the private airstrip had been quiet and uneventful.
Their elevator stopped at the highest floor with a self-congratulatory 'ding', out of keeping with the hour. Doors opened silently to a wide, tastefully expensive foyer. Plush seating, local flowers in simple tabletop vases. His assistant, leading their entourage, gave a quick coded knock at the tall double-doors opposite.
A muffled voice beyond.
"It's Paige," she responded.
After a pause, the doors opened. Jacob's advance man welcomed them, led everyone inside the lavish penthouse suite. The ceiling was twenty feet above. The front wall entirely glass, looking out over the lights of the downtown area and across to the harbor. A small security detail had already swept and secured the upper half of the building.
"Mr. Wallace. You'll find your rooms are ready, should you wish to rest or refresh from your travels. Everything else is set, Paige."
"Thank you, Aiden. If you wouldn't mind pointing the way?" asked Jacob. "Paige, please don't let me sleep for more than two hours? I'd like time to get clean, catch up over breakfast."
"Of course, Jacob. Go, get some rest. We'll see to everything."
Aiden led him along the front wall, down a hallway and past a series of open spaces and closed rooms. Behind him, Paige and the others dissembled to their work.
Arriving at the last door, Aiden said, "Here you are, sir. Everything as you like. I realize your stay is short, but please try to enjoy. I'll be halfway to our next by the time you wake, so you'll forgive me if I say my goodbyes now."
"Always too brief, old friend."
"Always too true. And good luck. Tomorrow. It's a bold and elegant solution."
"Only if I can make it work in the necessary directions. Good night, Aiden. Thanks again for all your trouble, and safe travels." Jacob closed the door behind him. Tomorrow's selections from his wardrobe waited, already pressed. His toiletries were arranged neatly on the vanity.
He dimmed the lights at the wall switch, prepared for rest.
Max woke from a deep sleep to find she couldn't breathe. The air was too warm, and there was something across her nose and mouth… Tight pinpricks pressured her cheek and throat. She forced her eyes open, but her view was blocked by a soft…something. "Mrerrrrrph!"
Emo casually rolled off her face sideways, stretched out. The tip of his tongue curled up as his eyes closed. He yawned with all the fierce and tiny majesty he could muster.
Max fought her own yawn, crinkled her nose. "Kitten breath…"
He rolled again, closer to the sun-patch. White tips of his canines peeking out below his lips.
What did she used to call you? "Morning, vampire kitty." Rubbed his chin.
His eyes were mere slits; a mark of uncertainty in the endless struggle between wakefulness and sleep. He settled for somewhere between, content for a moment in his upside-down state. Fickle, discontent, he reached, flipped into a half-loaf.
Max scratched down his back, stopping ahead of his tail.
He arched, lost balance, rolled off the side of her.
She giggled as he recovered in the poofiness of the comforter, confused, he licked his paw, stopped. Looking to her, he gave a casual 'mew'.
"Goof…" She felt around the other side of the bed with her free arm. No Chloe. "Hmm. What time is it?"
The building answered, "11:47 AM."
4 hours… could stay here for a while longer, reloop, but… "Hrrrrrrgh." Max stretched, slid sideways out of bed, got up.
Emo crawled slowly, paw over paw, into the warmth left behind.
I'll make it later…sleep tight, bunnyhead. Max rubbed her eyes as she made her way to her toothbrush. Asked aloud, "Where's Chloe?"
The same voice replied, "Commander Price is not on board the Enterprise."
Max chuckled as she gave the tube a squeeze. Least Chloe's giving it a sense of humor…
Morning mouth successfully banished, she showered and dressed. Jeans, light blue high-top Vans, faux-vintage Robotron 2084 t-shirt under a powder-blue hoodie. She tucked the wire necklace with its single bullet into her shirt. An old gift from Chloe, who was down to two on her own, still sleeping in a drawer. Max wore hers every so often.
She left Emo some kibble in the kitchen before folding downstairs to the cafeteria to get her own. She arrived near the elevators, made her way to the outer edge of the donut, where it met the open entrance of the wing. John and Jeremy held court in their usual lunch spot. Max vanished, appeared. Crashed their table, clearly interrupting their ongoing conversation.
"…yeah, well…that's just how I…we'll come back to this," trailed Jeremy, acknowledging Max with a smile.
"Morning." John scooted himself and his plate to make room. "Get any sleep?"
"Hey. Afternoon now, I guess." She noticed John's scruff. Asked absently, "Is that scruff?" Picked up a tablet with the various menus. Max wasn't sure what she was hungry for, but she was definitely hungry for a whole lotta something.
John opened and closed his mouth without saying anything.
Jeremy folded his crossword aside, took a sip of his iced tea. "We missed the party this morning."
Max shrugged. "Invites were a little ad hoc, but it worked out okay. You're up to speed? And…what are you eating, John? That smells really good."
John sat up very straight, replied slowly, proudly, "Well, Max, in the land of my people, we call it a 'burrito'."
Max rolled her eyes. "We're in the land of your people. And everyone everywhere calls it a burrito. Meant what's in it?"
He deflated, poked at it. "Grilled steak, French fries, black beans, cheese, guac, bacon, some veggies?"
"Yeah. Fries and bacon - those are the missing ingredients. That." Max tapped in her order. "How is everyone? Downstairs, I mean? I assume you guys are okay."
Jeremy paused his salad-fork mid-flight. "Stopped down an hour ago. Physically…our new guests are improving. Getting restless, which I'm told is good. Counsellors were working the crowd, along with a couple of LVPD's finest, taking statements to package up for their home teams, what-have-you. Another day, plus whatever follow-up?"
"That's good to hear… Hey, I don't know if you know at all, but there were these two…"
Jeremy smiled. John interrupted her with a laugh, "Yeah, trust me, we've heard about your…upgrade to our Employee Retention Plan, I guess?" He shrugged. "Holos are making the rounds - all anybody's talked about this morning. Well, that and all the other stuff I guess…"
Max shrugged. "Eh. What can you do? But for real, you know I didn't really bring them back from the dead or anything, right? Just sorta bought them forward, hopping over the being dead part? Please tell me you get that, John?"
John nodded. "Sorry, okay, you know I'm dying to ask the obvious, but…uh, the kids, you know, they're good to go. Hundred and ten percent."
Max raised her eyebrows. "Okay…wow. That's pretty far from where I left 'em. Nanobot safari, or…?"
"More of a small world story. Alena and her dad spent the night last night. You…see where this is going. Media on their front lawn…they bunked up. She must have heard there were some other kids in the building this morning, went to make friends. She was fast, didn't say a thing, but one of the nurses caught it. One minute she's doing a computer puzzle or whatever with the others, next she goes over to say hi to the two you went all Lord and Savior on… Visited with 'em for a sec. By the time she rejoined the first group, whatever they had was over. No signs. They're just back to being normal little kids again."
Max mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the waitress for her fresh cup of coffee. Back to John, "Okay, that kinda makes my day. She's really good, isn't she?"
"She's a fucking ninja medic, is what she is. Stealth healer. Gonna see if she'll fit in a pack - start taking her out on missions with us…" John took another bite of his burrito. "Have a soft spot for the kid after what she did for Trace on New Year's…"
Max sipped. "Yeah, Sophie said she's a helper. Can't not…"
Jeremy glanced up at Max. "Not like she has any positive role models or anything…" Returned his attention to his lunch.
Max ignored him. "That was really kind of her though. Makes for a way better morning. Afternoon. You know… Which reminds, John - how is Trace doing? It's been a few weeks - she doing okay with life over the wall?"
"Huh? Oh…no she's great. Your…initiations don't leave a lot of ambiguity to fight against. She rolled with it. Adapted, like we all did. Answered questions between us, so thank you for taking that chance. Anyway, uh, she's off doing Tracey things. Mostly. Busy with some new artifacts touring around. Her parents are threatening to fly out for a visit. That's something to look back on. And what's the deal with Karaoke, by the way? I'm getting…uncomfortable pressure. Is that still a thing? Ty said something in passing early this morning, but it wasn't clear…"
"Think we just need to set a date."
"Cool. Let us know when. Please? Maybe we could sync it up with her parents' visit, so we're safely out of the country? Please?"
"Heh. That was two pleases. Chicken? You should meet her parents, John. Oh, and I think you guys got promoted to judges or something too? Talk to Hector, it's his idea, and I'm hazy on the deets. You guys say when."
The waitress dropped off Max's order.
"Copy that," John shrugged, taking a bite.
Returning her attention to Jeremy, Max asked, "Any G2 on the Asshole-McBoatFace side of things? If you've heard, I mean?"
"Only from rolling log updates. Progress. Teardown team found some paperwork on board, along with a drive. Obvious theory, it was set aside as some sort of protection against whatever. Sporadic journal entries, a few names, accounts. Gave pointers on both sides of the ocean. Nothing complete, but the team's working the data decryption now. Should be quick."
"Fast break is fast." Max dove into her burrito.
"They were in a safe in the captain's cabin. Locked, but not hidden. I really don't think they were expecting company. Or the makeshift brig. Regardless, ship's turned around, driving back to their home port at full speed. Team's keeping a few of ours on board until they hand off to the locals. Along with a single drone escort. Week at most. Cop who tossed us the lead is back in the loop. Going by the brief, sounds like it's all under control."
"Noice." Max gave a short nod, took another sip of coffee. "I'll make the rounds, check in with everybody later. Quick change of subject - anybody seen Chloe? I'm sure I'm a terribly disappointing stalker today."
John smiled, shook his head.
Jeremy's fork halted, stalling delivery of another leafy payload. "We had a meeting this morning to go over some minor gaps in the P&L. After, I think she was headed out to Groom? Maybe start with Parker?"
"Makes sense. I'll catch up with her…"
Max folded into their new old hangar - official designation, H22. Can't imagine how they name these. Hundred-twenty feet on each side, forty high. The air inside held vague hints of fresh paint and old ozone.
Radio equation was still on the inner wall, quiet in the darkness behind new panels. In a few short weeks, the teams converted the interior from empty-retro-sad to something nearing modern…if a little cold. Glossy white floor surface, bright new interior walls, painted ceiling. Climate control. The air itself provided the light, glowing as it did. Parker's high frequency homage to Nikola Tesla. The exterior also received a fresh coat of the base-standard beige, with a few 'active stealth' ingredients for good measure - designed to selectively block or pass whole ranges of energy. Gave them privacy, while allowing comms and remote control.
Max stepped over one of the fresh green lines subdividing the floor into work sections, skirted around organized piles of assorted construction materials. Bones of the narrow internal office and lab complex going up along one interior wall. Another month there.
Chloe's Aventador, dusty, was parked at an angle just inside the hangar doors. Tire marks suggested a sideways slide on the way in. Knowing Chloe, Max assumed it was probably through a very small gap.
She rounded the corner of a temporary rack. Caught him napping. "Hey, Parker." A few of his team chuckled in the background. One overhand-lobbed a French fry at his head.
He pushed up from his workbench, gave a yawn. "Hiya Max. sorry…burrito coma." The fry plummeted to the floor.
She nodded. "Had one of those too. Burrito part, not the coma. Yet. You know what I mean…"
"Checking in? Or passing through?"
"Little of both. How are you guys doing?" Max picked up a coil, turned the cold metal in her hands.
Parker twitched as she took hold of the part, but quickly covered. Glancing at the construction area, he said, "Soldiering on in spite of the noise. Give us a week, and we'll be in test flights."
"Cool…that's quick." She set the coil back where she found it. Didn't want to throw off whatever organizing system they had going on.
He shrugged. "Low altitude, baby steps… Chloe's been kind enough to drop hints in the comments of the nightly software builds. Nudging us normals along, I suppose. Helpful though - cut a few months of trial and error."
"…speaking of…" Max gave the room a final scan for Chloe.
"Trial and Error? She was here earlier. Wait, what time is it? Okay, yeah - she's…" He glanced around his benches, gave a weary sigh. "…and it appears she's taken the mule again."
Max, amused by the involuntary visual, "'Scuse me?"
"Performance prototype - test mule. Bout yea big?" He held his arms about two feet apart.
Max, shook her head, smiling, "Had such a different picture in my head. Fuzzy ears, soulful eyes…li'l waggy tail…"
He chuckled, "Thanks for that. But, no, think mounting deck for the repulsion drivers. She's 'liberated' it again. Might check the rec facilities? Where we found her last time. Or Sam's? I'm still getting used to the idea that we have access privileges to a bar…inside Area 51… Odder yet, they make serviceable food. Not as though I can leave a good Yelp behind or anything…"
Max agreed. "Right? It is pretty cool to be here though. Thanks for the pointer on Chloe. We'll be back."
He called after her, "Hey, if she's damaged it, might be worth an ounce of prevention? Limited set."
"I'll check." Max vanished, reappearing at the side door. Stepped out into the midday light.
Enjoying the sunshine, she retraced their first steps here. Out of uniform this time. Out in the open. No one paying her any mind at all.
She made her way across the base to the cluster of chunky beige buildings near the baseball field. Nice little walk. Pushed through the front entrance to Sam's. Dim inside, but not dark. Windowless. An old Pac Man machine bleeped in one corner. Like the one inside the alien bar in Rachel… Wonder if they know each other? Waka waka. Bar was well lit. Silhouettes of guys at the counter eating burgers. Two off-duty airmen played pool to the side. She could tell by their haircuts.
First time they hit Sam's, a few people recognized Chloe. But they treated her in that odd enthusiast-peer sort of way. Dude-nods, smiles, but kept a respectful distance. Even if they wanted to, they prolly couldn't geek-out about what they were working on here. Knew better than to ask Chloe anything. They all shared a sort of eerie knowing silence instead. It's super cute how much Chloe loves every single part of this though…
Max moved on. No obvious Chloe-sign. She pushed through the side door with a creak and a 'ding'.
Interior hallway. More beige, decorated with a few framed posters of military aircraft developed or tested here. Floor was that universal short-looped dark-grey of the government-industrial-carpet-complex. Prolly last a thousand years. She knew it could survive part of that. Turned a short corner, slid though the double-doors to the rec center. A few people moved about, while a sign in the lobby apologized for the inconvenience. She heard the music, took a left through the women's 'locker room' - which was really just a showerless bathroom with a few lockers - and out to the indoor pool area.
Smaller than theirs. Water drained. Maintenance, probably.
A few enlisted types lounged on the bleachers, relaxing with friends who were out of uniform. Even here, a little clique - none of them older than Max or Chloe appeared to be.
Beneath the thrashing guitars banging out through the speakers, Max felt a familiar hum. Sharp irregular crackles echoed off the pool walls.
Chloe popped up over the lip nearest Max like a rocket-fueled prairie dog. One hand above the edge of the pool, the other on…Parker's mule… Did a short spin before vanishing back into the deep end, out of view. Below her 'board', two irregular flattened hemispheres distorted the air and gave off the occasional blue electrical snap. She popped up on the other side of the pool, paused, let gravity take her back down again.
Because, of course.
Max went to the edge, dropped down to her hands and knees and leaned out. Old trick. Chloe saw her, rode up that side of the pool. Just enough hang-time for a quick mid-air kiss before she dropped back into the depths. Nailed it.
Max smiled, sat back, enjoying Chloe enjoying her makeshift hover-board. She found it mildly interesting that the bleacher crew gave Chloe only partial attention. Clearly not the weirdest thing they'd seen around here.
Chloe traced a fast wide 'S' across the bottom of the pool, rode up the side wall, gave an extra push on the way down to build speed. Up and over. Stepped off to ground level next to Max, picking the board out of the air as it sailed up behind her with an angry crackle.
Max got to her feet. "Something something ollie?"
Chloe smiled, rolled her eyes, killed the power. "Poser." She bumped Max. Tucked the board under her arm, hand into her pocket.
Max took Chloe's other arm in hers, walked alongside. "It's not posing, just trying to fit in. But you know that I know that you know better anyway, so that makes it even more totally not posing. Also, I think Parker might be looking for his board."
"Oh, it's his board now?" Chloe shrugged. "He'll get over it. I'm…testing. If he could write his own control code and not suck about it…" She smirked.
"Chloe! Don't be mean. Grumpypants."
Chloe winked at her. "Kidding, dude. They've got mad skills - I totally give him shit anyway. It's funnier cause it's like he doesn't know what to do with it, you know…goes all deer in headlights… heh. Hilarious. So what's up? How are you feeling? How'd you sleep? Whatcha doing out here?" Chloe pushed through the outer door, strolled outside into the sun.
Max let go of her arm, took her hand. "So inquisitive. In order? Um. You know, just stuff. I'm feeling pretty happy. Slept okay, but our dark minion tried to suffocate me. Again. And I'm here cause I missed you and junk."
"Aww."
"And I was thinking about taking Sophie's advice. Or, I guess, general purpose pestering. Whatever. Maybe head out into the real world for a while this afternoon. Figured I might as well take a camera, get some new stills and loops for around the office, you know, if you were looking to tag along for a mini-adventure?"
Chloe remembered last time. "You mean if I was looking to follow you around lugging your camera bag for you?"
"Hey!" Max pulled at Chloe's hand.
"Kidding. Thanks - but I should stay focused. Get some work done today. You know? Rain check?"
Max swung their arms a little higher between them. "Course. Always."
"Don't get me wrong - I'd love to go - but I'm also happy as shit you're taking some creative you-time. Where are you off to?"
Max shrugged. "Hmm… Dunno. Thought I'd wander. See where the afternoon takes us…me now I guess. Have this one idea, it's a series on crowded sidewalks and streets around the world. Like from inside the crowds, same film and camera settings and time of day for each place. Always shooting in the direction I'm walking…playing with the color and light. The visual atmospheres are so different from city to city - not just the cultures and colors and fashions, but the feel of the sunlight. Yet, everyone's coming from somewhere, thinking 'bout stuff, going somewhere else in this communal flood of foot traffic… I've seen it before, but I'd love to try to capture it. Might come out kinda cool? Mix of contrasts and similarities…"
"You've always had your own eye, Max. I'm sure it'll be brilliant. Oop! Hold up." Chloe pulled back, pausing them at the edge of a wide taxi-way between hangars as an F-16 rolled by.
Max raised her hand to the pilot inside the bubble canopy. She returned Max's greeting with a jaunty salute.
Turned back to Chloe. "Flatterer."
"Bullshit. You know it's true, dude." With the jet and its engine-wash safely down the road, Chloe started across.
Max skipped to catch up. "My other idea goes back to something you said over the holidays… Different direction, but I could also take the Hasselblad out for a spin. Start with Mercury, work my way out from there. One random photo from the surface, or just above the atmosphere, of each planet and each moon. Medium-format slideshow homage to our little corner of the universe…"
Chloe shrugged. "Well, I mean, why not both? You could make the time."
"…cute."
"Heh."
"Well, I'll…"
Chloe felt Max shift. Like she caught up to herself mid-stride. A jump? "Max?"
She stopped, her voice a little more serious. "Hey, Chlo. Sorry. Quick jump back. Gimmie a sec? If you wanna go on ahead, I can drop me off in the Hangar before I bail?"
"What's up? What happened?"
"Terror attack. Barcelona, 'bout eleven hours from now. A few asshats with backpack bombs hit the metro. Gets pretty ugly."
"Shit - that sucks. You need any help kicking ass and taking names, or?"
"Oh, no… I only came back to have our guys call it in. The video was good, so it took the police there a day to get their IDs. They said on the news right before I left… I won't be a sec."
"Okay… I'll wait right here."
Max nodded, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, turned away and wasn't there anymore.
Chloe stepped into the cooler shade of a nearby hangar, leaned back, slid down the wall, board flipped upside down on her lap. Day was warm, but not hot. She scanned the horizon with her own eyes. Skies met dusty lakebed in a contrast of dark blue against bright tan. Mountains darker in the distance. Pungent unburned hydrocarbons drifted by in invisible clouds. She analyzed in the background, formulated a clean synthetic JP mixture, dropped Materials a quick note.
Shifted point of view to somewhere above. Watched the F-16 pause at the end of the runway. Its engines kicked to life, hurtling the small jet forward. Not even a quarter of the way along, its nose lifted. The pilot angled steeply to gain altitude. Seconds later, ten-thousand feet above the deck, she rolled the plane in a lazy half-corkscrew, headed north. Chloe pulled her attention back. Say hi to Tonopah…again. Wandered around her real-time view of the base. Zoomed in on the important things. Corndogs in the chow hall today… Surprisingly good last time she tried them. She absently scrubbed herself and Max out of the various digital video recordings at base security. More out of habit than necessity now. Before she had the chance to go hangar-diving, not-very-FutureMax returned.
Chloe held out her hand. Max took it, leaned in, then stepped back, pulling Chloe to her feet. Chloe caught the edge of the board with her other hand before it hit the ground.
"Everything okay?"
Max nodded. "Yep. Scribbled off some notes for our peeps to pass along. They're already on with Spanish anti-terror in Madrid. In their hands now. Hopefully Barcelona PD gets the bomb maker too this time. He was already long gone…"
"Alright. Cool. Uh. Well, if that's it, say hi to me, I guess?"
"You're adorkable. Oh, but that reminds me - um, when NowMe comes back, before she bounces, tell her to be back home by 4pm? Less complicated. There's a fun call we should take together first pass, save some back and forth. And might have Sophie and the exec team on standby. You'll understand."
Chloe shook her head. "That's all I get? Man, you're a bottomless well of questions, as always."
Max kissed her, whispered, "What? I'm wearing pants."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Womp womp."
Max continued, "And what fun would it be if I told you everything? You've got this. And I do adore you, not-very-far-in-the-PastChloe."
Chloe gave her a hug. "Love you too, not-too-FutureMax. Now get the hell out of here before the love of my life comes back and catches us together?"
Max laughed. "See you in a couple of days. Poof." With that, Max lurched forward, caught herself. Looked around. "…okay. So…what did I miss?"
"Usual. Nothing now. Metro bombings in España later. Before. You dropped off some info for the cops. Should be all good."
Max shrugged. "Oh. Okay. Cool. Best job is when no one knows you've done anything at all… Including me, I guess?"
"Spoken like a true intergalactic rainbow space-goddess…" Chloe gave her a side-glance.
"'Til the memory catches up, anyway… Wait a minute…that look. Oh my god! You're totally having another affair with FutureMe, aren't you?!"
Chloe bit her lip, laughed, "Busted. But dude - you would too if you could. She's pretty cute!"
Max squinted. "Uh-huh. You're lucky I don't hook up with PastChloe for revenge… Whatevs. …guess I still love you anyway…" Max took a breath. Considered. "But now I have to figure out which direction I want to go today… Pictures, I mean. Help me decide."
Chloe pinched the board under her arm. Took Max's hand in hers and started back to their hangar. "You said you should be back by 4pm, so just putting that out there, if it changes anything…"
Max paused. "Huh. K. Did I give a reason?"
"Nope. Well, something about a call? Swear, it's prolly nothing and you're just trolling me again…"
Max, playful bounce in her step, smiling sweetly, "That doesn't sound like the me I know at all…"
Chloe guided them across another wide taxiway. "Right…and to me, that sounds, how do you say in English, 'suspiciously untrue'?"
"We'll figure it out. Hope whatever it is doesn't take too long though. I was gonna do supply runs tonight, check in with Margaret, drop off some tea… Not that there's any relation between how long it's been here and how much time passes there at the target… But you know what I mean. Hey - and I just realized that I totally suck. I didn't ask how you were feeling? When did you get up?"
"Pfft. I'm good. Left you 9-ish, I guess? Morning meeting with Jeremy. That dude is such a professional worrywart. He was all bent cause, even with the hundred mil from the Russians clearing, we're gonna be a little low on operating funds. It's like, dude - it's just cash - and it's us - it'll get handled, you know? There's literally nothing but time…"
Max lifted their hands up over one of the concrete bollards at the corner of their hangar, passing it between them as they walked. "We pay him a lot of money to be a professional worrywart. How low?"
Chloe let go of Max, opened the people-door of the hangar for her. Shrugged. "It's really no big deal. Need to infuse a billion or so to carry us through the end of Q1."
Max went through first, held it open for Chloe to follow. "Okay. I mean, is the burn really that high?"
"Yeah, but, you know…it's not totally unexpected right now. Licensing, we'll be autopilot in a year or two. It's cool. I mean, we could move some other outside cash or holdings around, but we've got some leftover lead from Skywatch; just as easy to make some gold or whatever over the next couple of days. It'll be more than the usual trickle through our 'paper mines', but shouldn't be enough to tweak markets or anything if we diffuse it." Chloe flipped the board, set the mule back on Parker's bench.
"Okay. I mean, let me know if it's an issue. Happy to help scout some platinum-rich asteroids or whatever if you show me how. We still need to make the mining thing credible with a real space program that others can use to follow us up. Eventually anyway. Baby steps, orbital ring network, blah blah. Talk later… Hey, again, Parker."
He took the mule from Chloe. Turned it over, examining new scuffs. "Hey Max. Price. What did you do to our…."
"It's fine, dude. Chill. I was working out some new ideas for simulating effects of linear friction under lateral changes in load inertia. I'll…drop you the notes later?"
He held up his hands in abrupt surrender. "You're a peach." He turned, quickly rolled his eyes at Max. Behind him, Chloe winked.
Max moved aside as he passed, stepped to Chloe. Gave her a casual hug and a kiss. "Alright love, I'm gonna head back to grab gear, then out. Feels like a people kinda day, so think I'm sticking Earth-side. Phones should work if anything comes up?"
"Ciao bella."
"You're a ciao bella."
"I'll ciao bella you!" Chloe said, shaking her fist.
"I…I still don't know what that means…" Max smiled, turned, waved over her shoulder. Empty air.
Max was an island of stillness parting the fluid rush of the sidewalk. Her whole world narrowed through the viewfinder. Fading skies and city lights played the crowd from left to right - the sharp red of tail lights, the cool blues of the fading sky, and the diffuse glowing bands of warm yellows from shop windows along the street… Waiting for that perfect alignment of people in motion, lights, and empty space. Mexico City.
An hour before, she captured the busy night life in Tangiers. Least 'til she got pulled indoors, carried along by the moving sidewalk crowd. Accidentally crashed a late-night reception. Tea was strong, and she had a fun, if strange, conversation with a semi-pro wedding crasher. An hour before that, she framed the upturned faces of the mid-morning audience at the base of the Sky Tower in Auckland, as thrill seekers in orange jump-suits plummeted toward them on safety lines. The tower was nearly as tall as the Stratosphere in Vegas. She smiled at her own anxious memory of Chloe's first excited cowabunga back home.
Max pulled back to the low end of her zoom, aperture wide open, focal plane at the middle-distance, blurring the foreground and background. The scent of uber-tasty food from the taqueria across the street was almost overwhelming. Focus. No-pun.
Her original creative vision was to capture the feel of each city, the atmospheres, with their denizens more or less represented in aggregate. Not quite scenery. But once on the ground, she became intrigued by the physical language of small interactions between people along the walkways. Universalities. An arm over a shoulder. A quick hand tap between friends to point something out. Casual, meaningless. Meaningful. Two teens walking close, early; still too shy to look at each other, until they did. Unconscious eye-smiles and waves as family members discovered each other across a cafe. One couple stared straight ahead, silence after a fight maybe; one angry, one downcast. Movements, glances, that same language wherever she went. Subtle touches that often flashed by in less than a second. Hard to catch if she wasn't looking for them. Impossible to plan shots around.
Well, not entirely true…
The crowd thinned momentarily on the left, bathed in the warm light of a shop window, but she was mid-right with pedestrians between. Wasn't quite it. She paused, rewound the couple back a few feet, moved herself to the left. Better. They weren't looking at the camera. Their child glanced up at their faces with apparent joy as they shared a quick look between them. Max bracketed a few shots as she rolled time forward again, manually zooming as the shutter clicked away, adding a slight motion blur to the people closest.
She angled the lens down, flipped through the twenty or so new images on the display back. A few she liked. Human moments. Not hers. But someone's. Decent bokeh on the stop-lights too…
Her phone vibrated.
Network time caught up. Nearly 6:30pm, local. A handful of missed calls and texts. All Chloe.
Shit.
S'posed to be back by four, our time… oops.
Her phone buzzed again as new messages caught up.
Your horses. Hold them! Geez.
She powered off, attached the lens cap and stowed the camera in her messenger bag.
She folded to the roof of a fifty-story bank headquarters building, overlooking a large park. Taking herself out of sight and out of the way. Once there, she took a moment to appreciate the spectacular view, decided she wasn't quite ready to leave. She'd already missed the time, so it was a rewind either way.
Max shrugged, hopped up, took a seat on the edge of the safety wall, legs over the side.
Needed to clear a few lingering cobwebs before heading home. Top of the lighthouse…
From high up, the city reminded her of the massive sprawl of urban Southern California. Seemed to stretch on forever, hugging the skin of the world like a living thing. Twenty-million; double the entire human population at the darkest point last loop. But there they all were, overflowing this single vast city, brimming with so much noise and light and spirit. Going about their mundane, awesome, day to day lives…
She pulled a green tea out of her bag, twisted, sipped.
Her afternoon out was a good re-grounding. Reminded her of a few things she already knew.
Around the world, out in public, anonymous - face to face with so many normal people, doing their normal stuff - it was a sort of bookend to the weird of the past few weeks, or more. There were so many of them. People. So different from place to place, but so similar in really fundamental ways.
At street level, any notion of 'the crowd' as a single entity broke apart under examination. Appearances, cultural and social mores aside, they were never any one thing. Some were kind, smiled, while others brushed by. Some strolled, while others raced, late. Some noticed the others and the world around them, while many walked bent-necked, studying their glowing rectangles - windows to people who weren't there with them. Differing by their nature, their circumstances, their days. All were just normal folk, being normal, traveling through transitional spaces on the way to something or someone else. They mostly got along with each other, and while each probably had their own worries, most were pretty okay most of the time.
Life in the early 21st. These minor snapshots of global normalcy contrasted with their own day-to-day back home - with their intense critical focus on the other patterns. It was so easy to get lost in the bad guys, the problems, the effects of the worst of people's behaviors, the terrifying unknowns out there in the darkness, the scope and breadth of documented horrors leading to a future they were trying so hard to prevent down here in the world. Undoing the acute breakage around them as it occurred, wherever they could…
Only have to look around to see the best of them too, though…
That's a necessary reminder - I can still fall into the same trap I complained to that Elliot dude about. It's possible to put so much energy and attention into the negative outliers, that it amplifies them out of proportion… While part of our job is to help keep the outliers from becoming the norm, I have to keep a sense of what's really real out here - for that balance. Like everyone else, we need an accurate model of reality in our heads to make thoughtful decisions…
Max looked up as a helicopter passed overhead, lights blinking, rotors thumping at the air.
She and Chloe each carried their share of burdens, with the majority shared between them. Core team. It was natural, comfortable, convenient even to turn inward to each other for balance and perspective at the end of each day. They were the constants between universes and timelines. And the only ones who really knew or understood how bad it could be, after all.
Sophie was maybe the one outside exception, by proxy.
Everyone close to them felt a similar urgency about the problems, of course.
But there was echo danger in that too.
Inside that protective bubble they made for themselves…
Insulation goes both ways.
Take great care that it doesn't become isolation.
…that you aren't amplifying each other without some outside grounding…
…or amplifying yourself. (Yeah…we'll come back to that one.)
It's already possible that we've made it too easy to forget the simple reality of what, or who, we're trying to preserve…advance…out here.
Helping rebuild civilization from scratch with a small, willing population was such a different journey. In some ways, I don't feel like that effort prepared us at all for this one. It's less obvious how best to redirect these vibrant billions, with all their competing structures and influences and inertia, in the near-term. Without them being aware of it, or understanding why… We're operating mostly on the long-term 'architect it and they will come' model, but like them, the answer isn't truly any one thing.
Maybe that's why Sophie's always after me, in our little side-talks…pushing me to go outside…take some time and space for direct contact, pondering…
She bounced her heels off the sides of the building, sipped quietly. She saw people down there, but as she looked outward to more distant streets, there was a point at which they became too small, too far away to resolve. Blended into the abstraction of the urban landscape.
Everyone we've ever saved is a whole person, but I wonder, have we become too busy? Too…single-minded to pay them much attention beyond that? We've spent so much time with each other, to the exclusion of nearly everyone outside our own walls. Has that been a necessity to get through this intensive startup period, to set up the infrastructure for long-term change? Or is it because it's easier for us? …easier for me?
…introvert struggles.
Shit's real. Even after all this time… I can behave differently, I can play the roles well, and…I may be able to reshape entire worlds - but I'm still who I am on the inside. It's always been something that's true about me, and it's not changing now… It's not bad at all - I'd happily embrace my outer introvert in any semblance of a normal life - but I have to keep reminding myself to fight against my hermit tendencies if I want to better connect with real people out there.
Which…I should want. It's beneficial in so many directions for what we're trying to do…necessary for keeping an accurate perspective, to understand where they are, know what to do, how to help… Without knowing it, they have the most important part to play in our collective futures… How can we hope to effectively understand or guide them if we grow to perceive them as an abstract sort of 'other'? Invisible ideas…down some distant street?
We didn't take the time to know many of them this early in the last loop either. Seattle - did we ever even meet our neighbors? Learn anything about them? Participate in their lives in any way? Honestly can't remember… Billions of people in the world, and as terrible as it is, we didn't seem to notice them until they were mostly gone last time. Long as we had each other, a few friends here and there, that was all we could hang on to. 'Til it was too late. Natural myopia after T-zero Arcadia, maybe. But that's a long time gone. We didn't even know Juliet was alive here, and this AB went down less than three years ago.
She put the cap back on her tea, rested it on the ledge next to her.
I don't know…maybe we took the rules of the world for granted, assuming it would stay as it was forever. 'Til it was suddenly too late to do much besides hunker. Survive. Compromise. But even now, for all our talk of saving 'the world'…we're focused on that abstraction - the idea of 'billions of people'. 'All life'. We say it with real feeling. Mean it with everything we have. But…
But it's not quite right. It's…we only ever knew them by their absence last time.
Fucking unfathomable that way. And something important gets lost in the attempted counting of them now.
Reality is, it's that one dude down there on that payphone. Right there. Him. Specifically.
And that woman over there climbing the stairwell with way too many bags of groceries.
And that man selling tissues on the bus earlier.
And the couple sitting in traffic over there, and the pilot of that plane…
And the people we rescued, and the kids from last night…
And that tree. And that barking dog…
…and all the generations that come after them…
Individuals, living normal lives, connecting to each other. Brushing wings, changing each other.
They're the ones who shape all of it, as their present writes our future.
They're very real.
Obviously, and of course.
And nothing about them is abstract.
Everything in their lives matters to them, moment to moment…
Soph - these seeds of yours…sometimes, they take a while to sink in. Collide with each other. Or maybe grow. …cause…they're…seeds. shut up, Max. She's right though. It's not just about how long they continue to be here. Although an environment where that's assured matters for a lot of very critical reasons. It's as much about their own personal experiences of reality, the quality of their lives while they're here, and…how they love and guide each other, and where they can go under their own power…especially the part about believing that they're capable of getting there under their own power. Having their own dreams for what that is. Key to what's next for all of us.
But it's not even us saving that one dude on the phone. Is it? Maybe, if that's what's needed…
But it's also about them saving each other…
And I…I don't know how to make them matter to one another.
That's not universal here…
They don't know.
That's something we missed completely in the short term.
We architected for it in the long game, but there are a lot of them here, now.
So much inertia.
Are we moving too slowly? For them?
We're helping out a lot already, I know, but…
Can we do better?
There's a logic knot in the middle of all of this.
Radically changing an entire timeline, with their participation, but without them knowing it.
…without the predictable disruption of moving too fast.
But helping them more by helping them less.
But we need to help them some, cause there's something pushing hard the other way.
But the more we do to help, the less it's them doing it themselves.
And maybe the thing that would do the most, transparency, the truth, any inspiration sorta, is also doing the least.
But that would require the most from us in some ways…
…of me.
I'm hoping we can succeed without that.
We did last time, but they brought their own motivation…
I don't even know if it would help.
Might just scare the shit out of everyone to know what…happened in another timeline…
What might happen here if we stop trying.
Full circle. No real solution.
That ugly future is still out there though, trying to make itself real in some way. And like last night, or Spain tonight - there are times and places where there are no other options for them - no choice for us but to step in… No choice not to.
She retrieved her tea, took another sip. Flashing lights, sirens a few miles away. Caught a glimpse of ambulances. Reminder of last night.
She was still surprised, and disappointed in herself. At the intensity of her reaction in the moment on the docks. But…in truth, signs of it bubbled when she first donned the uniform, weeks ago on the way back to Area 51.
Burying things isn't dealing with them…
Obviously unresolved…
For all this leveling up, I really feel like I should be way past this basic shit by now.
Guess…it doesn't really work that way…
She pulled one foot up on the ledge, wrapped her arms in a hug around that leg. Rested her chin on her knee, watching the lights.
With further distance and perspective, she reflected, attempted to close the loop on last night's retreat into the void. And all the loops, stretching backward.
It's related, and it's been percolating, but especially since this morning, after bringing them forward…at the heart of it all - is 'never again' even useful for me to hold onto as a prime directive anymore? Does that intense focus on a negative as my guiding light help? Or does it become a lens for events? A bias, contributing to a distorted view of reality? Does thinking in those terms keep the past, those buried memories and feelings, more alive for me than they might otherwise be? That mantra's been there in the background for so long… Got us through back then, but…
That question, that worry…repeating patterns, revisiting old horrors… It's not really real anymore. Bad shit will still happen, but it won't stick. 'Never again' is a given. By existing, knowing what we do, being who we are - we'll help them ensure it. We control the final timeline. I do. Period.
Reading stories in a pillow fort - everyone lived - that's how it ended. How it always will in the final pass. Not perfect in the getting there, but shinier on the way to the rest of their lives. And our deal with the UN, it's a model - we're helping, guiding quietly to start, but it's still gonna be mostly normal everyday people around the world, working together to make it all go. Making it better. That's with just a little push…redirection of force…soft power. Even our folks, they're mostly just normal people - with access to information and tech the others don't have yet… But making amazing progress toward eliminating the spaces for these kinds of abuses. And so much more. One day, they won't need us for any of it.
Maybe it's time. To at least try to let go of some of the old regrets. Not just bury, or push down, but really see them for what they are, let them fade in the light. Give those negatives less power over me on a fundamental level…move gently past them if I can. Even hidden, they're still too big below the surface. Stick up.
I'm tired of this lurking. Think they're gone, and just, bam.
Truth is, everything's changed. I've changed. It's a different world now. Still a world with people-problems, and they're tragically important, but they ultimately have people-solutions…with a little care, and provided they're free from intentional interference in the other direction… That's what this has always been about. Not doing it all for them. Helping them. Encouraging them, in the original sense of that word, to do it for themselves. Going back to your last event talk on scaling butterfly effects… And yeah, quickly stepping in where they can't, until they can. That's a way better set of nav-points than 'never again'… Cause 'never again' leads to the question 'never what again?'… which brings it back, even if I don't say. that's not letting go, Max. They're too interlinked.
Besides, we have new problems to tackle. Nelson was right - the people closest to us, the front line, the insiders, the ones whose efforts really ripple outward now - they took their cue from us. We showed them hope and confidence, while still acknowledging a difficult reality. They put faith in us, while we put faith in them. They're the ones we help inspire directly. Lend strength or whatever to… But we played our part okay, helped turn that corner over the past few weeks, I think…
She poked at her thoughts uncritically, gave them space to wander, spin, contradict, loosely connect - let them be what they were.
Meltdowns don't help that message is all. It's why I left last night… That was a very specific and amplified reaction to significant trauma, but…trauma based on events mostly erased from even that timeline. And we're ahead of it all in this timeline anyway, so it won't ever be real here, even for me, as anything other than a bad memory of…another life. You know it's true. Why doesn't it just go away?
Solving the problem that triggered the reaction last night didn't require the reaction.
It nearly worked against it.
It's painful, and no, not ultimately helpful. I can't change what happened…I mean, yes, obviously, but…in my lifeline, I mean… I wish I could shut it off. It was the right move to leave, for sure - but it would be better if I didn't have that visceral reaction in the first place, I guess. Spinning. Don't like not being in control.
Means dealing with it. Or finding a way to let it go for real. Not just pushing it down again.
You have to get better, Max. This isn't good for you.
Yeah. Flip a switch. Great. Poof - you're healthy forevermore, Max… I know…
The one person I wish I could talk to…kinda breaks the whole point.
Partial answer. What Sophie and Hector said years ago...
But I'm not sure I agree - it serves no purpose to share all of that undone horror with Chloe. Just spreads it around.
Is it the same for the world? Be easier in nearly every way if they knew…
If she knew, but…
Worked out with our team. Giant scary alien whatever.
We fought for transparency with them.
Special case though. Right?
Right?
She knew where this line of thinking led.
How it exposed the contradictions in her own decisions.
Changed the subject.
Can't change my past-past.
But I can maybe change how much of it I take forward with me. Little by little?
What was that line, from Tai Chi Master? ''Free yourself, make light your burden…'
Wish I could make 'light'my burden.
Carrying that shit's easy.
It's the dark stuff that gets too heavy.
Punny. K, Max. To-do list. Here's a starter. One - accept that 'never again' is already a fact of this reality going forward. Don't let that worry, that hurt that fuels it, lurk in the background anymore. It doesn't serve you or anyone else. Two - give less headspace to all the failures and tragedies and losses of a past that…won't ever be back. It's gone for everyone. Let it stay gone for you too. Three - more internalization of the reality of the now, and of our way back to a shiny new future. We've been there before. Even if we're on a different road this time. Might end up in a different place. But close. Maybe even better. Head there.
Whole point of a fresh start is the fresh start part, right?
Everyone else gets one.
Why not me too?
She scanned to the other horizon, the bustle, thoughts turning.
Eventually she caught up to herself. Sighed.
If metaphors are the battle ground, I think we're winning.
Knew she was right in principal though.
Still found it hard to let go in practice.
Old habits. Human nature.
Rational arguments didn't always have power over deeper hurts and feelings.
But you know all this…numbness to past sorrows isn't the same as a peaceful mind.
Don't content yourself with illusions…forgetfulness.
Be uncomfortable to yourself.
Little at a time.
But do what it takes.
Yeah. Big takeaway I guess, less negative-past orientation, more positive-future orientation…
If there wasn't a switch she could flip, maybe there was a dimmer she could slide at least. Crossfade from one core driver to the next, over time.
Balance in all things, right?
Which, I guess is a pretty extreme position, isn't it?
Balance in 'some things' would be more in keeping with the spirit of the thought…
Least this is a good reminder to go outside more, maybe. Don't lose touch. Be less of a hermit, experience the world as it is. It's pretty awesome out there. It's like today with the original vision for the photos, versus what you ended up shooting - you notice things that change your mind from time to time. Might come out better.
Healthy internal dialog.
Good talking with me, Max.
Heading in the right direction.
..ish.
Sort the rest in time…
She capped the remains of her tea, replaced it in her bag.
Max got to her feet, perched up on the corner-edge of the high-rise. Felt the cool of the wind, as hair blew across her face.
Welp, that mental detour killed something like half an hour.
Gotta go back, rescue Chloe from whatever.
Take care, Mexico City. Thanks for hanging out with me.
And thanks for listening to me babble to myself, sorta.
She nodded, rewound a full hour, pushing the street traffic backward, the clouds to their source, and the world the wrong way to the horizon. She reconsidered the temporary nature of her tardiness.
Second thought, let's take the long way home.
Could use a slow lap…
She pushed back another ten minutes.
Max took a breath, adjusted the strap of her bag. Eyes up, she stepped off the edge of the roof, rising. Turned her phone to landscape and hit record as the wind pulled at her. She bubbled, arced skyward across the city, chasing the sun, catching up. The land raced behind and below as she ascended past the gleaming silver points catching the light on either side; airplanes in mid-flight. Clouds stalled around mountaintops like waves breaking over submerged rocks. Snaking rivers flashed bright before joining with the vast expanse of ocean ahead. Land fell away completely.
She climbed on. She knew it was illusion, but she imagined that it was the world that was pulling away - the horizon dropping rapidly, 360-degrees around her. The thin curve of blue forward, black above. The sun reflected back off the ocean surface below.
The usual chill down her spine.
Yeah…this never gets old.
I wish they could all see it like I do. …one day.
It's so small, so vast, so much of everything. Big stupid beautiful ball of nonsense floating in space. All of human history. Every family tree. Every picture ever painted, every book ever written. Dinosaurs. Nintendo. Swimming fish, every critter that ever crittered. Nearly every bad decision. Every last minute save. Every historical adventure told, every conflict fought, every child ever born… Every single piece of bacon. And most of our time together - it all happened somewhere down there…
Too many eggs…
Won't always be true. But for now…
She remembered a quote from the book Sophie gave her last year. Edgar Mitchell, lunar module pilot on Apollo 14, on looking back at the whole of Earth for the very first time. "You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it…"
Damn straight. See? Those OG astronauts got it…
She took the lazy curving path around. The endless blue of the deep Pacific rolled on. A wealth of tiny islands broke through to the surface to the north. The sea finally gave way to the green and white of New Zealand to the south. The reds of Australia stretched beyond. Another sea, dawn, then into darkness. All of Africa, sleeping, night-lights on, the full moon watching overhead.
When I'm down there sometimes, I feel like this small, anonymous stranger in a crowd, but…up here…it's funny. Despite everything twisting in my brain right now, sometimes it's like the farther away I get, the more connected to everything and everyone I feel. And a little less like a stranger once I'm back on the ground again. Least for a while.
Across the wide Atlantic, along the northeastern edge of South America, scattered islands of light. The orange-yellow glow of interconnected cities pushed through broken clouds ahead, while lightning flashed between them to the north.
Seeing it all at once, maybe.
The Caribbean, the Gulf, the plains, mountains, and finally, back to the lazy sunset over their home desert once again.
Max paused overhead. Stuck for a minute on that thought.
Shook her head. Hit save, slipped her phone into her pocket.
She gave one final look to all horizons.
Hey Earth. You look amazing today.
…just sayin'…
She folded back to their kitchen in the city below.
Strap over head, she set her bag on the counter.
Feeling right with the world.
And mostly on time.
"Chloe?"
Max called out again, "Chloe?"
A small holographic message appeared, floated ahead of her as she walked. It read Shhhh. Video call in my office. Just started. Come in, but stay o.c.
Max gave a quick wave. Folded to the room-side of Chloe's desk, off camera, quietly relaxed into a guest chair.
The holo raced down the hallway, through the door, caught up and parked to one side of Max. It changed, read, Three minutes late and still the world's most punctual time traveler…
Max stuck out her tongue, looked around the room for some way to communicate. Froze. Popped into her own office for a small Moleskine notebook and pen. Released the world into super-slo-motion once back in her seat. In her notebook, she wrote, And that's 'world's ONLY punctual time traveler' to you. What's going on? She kept it in her lap. Chloe had enough eyes.
The message refreshed. Catch up time - I'm on an encrypted call with a rando claiming to represent "Them". Wouldn't have even bothered if this super-cute chick from the future hadn't said something to me this morning…
Max wrote, Huh. When it rains… What do they want? Wait - lemmie guess - they want the last two idiots they sent? Least they're learning. Called this time… Max drew a face with rolling eyes. Then rolled her own.
:P Don't know - we're not there yet, dude. Still torturing them while I cut through the layers of techno-obfuscation-bullshit they're running.
Max nodded. Slipped back to normal time.
To the screen Chloe said, "Wait. You went to all this trouble to get me creds and paths to your network, I show up, and your voice is still a modulated mess and you're apparently…what, a hand-drawn sugar cube? Why should I take this costume conference seriously? And, on that tip, why did you bother if this is how it's gonna be? Be quick. My bounce-clock is ticking fast."
Max scanned Chloe's face through the back of the large holo atop her desk.
Chloe's eyes narrowed. And like that, it was over. The cubic facade dropped, showing a real person and voice. Message space went blank. A pause, then in big flashing letters, Boo-ya, bitches. Faded. More calmly, Cracked like an egg. Headers are wrapped in these encrypted packets…flags? I've seen these patterns out there before. Christ Max - he just handed us the DNA of their global fucking vid-comm traffic!
Max quickly scrawled, !?
He said, "You understand - it is Mrs. Price, correct? I really must be cautious," unaware that Chloe stripped away his protections.
Chloe, playing annoyed, "That's correct. And…whatever - don't care. Why are we here?"
The message board changed again. I just texted a few peeps. Let Sophie in, dude.
Max lowered her own defenses. Joined the link, accelerated to the speed of thought. Hey love. Hey, Soph.
Hello, Max. John and Jeremy are here with us as well. Chloe filled us in.
Hey guys.
Max.
Hey Max, long time...
I just saw you at lunch, John…
To the link, Chloe asked, Okay, anybody recognize this fucker?
Mental head shakes.
Max felt the buzzing of furious activity just inside Chloe, partitioned beyond Sophie's link.
Chloe continued, I'm running voice and face-rec…never-mind. Boom! Got him! Chloe flooded the link with data abstractions, images following along… Ladies and not, meet Mr. Jacob Wallace. Huh. From…America's hat. Excellent. 'Sup, Canada?
The 'Blame Canada' instrumental theme played softly in the background of the link until Chloe felt the mental kick from Max.
Fine. You know it's funny. Okay, dude's way old world money, shit-piles of cash; manufacturing to ag to mining and gas to services… North and South America, across Europe… Recently departed dad did a stint as Canadian Minister of Natural Resources in the 90's. Otherwise crickety on the personal stuff. Not much out there… Only child, private education, school transcripts…okay, pretty much runner-up for class everything; conspicuous pattern - that seems intentional. Top grades…focus on business and poly-sci… Board seats, foundation chairs, taxes going back a couple of decades… Wife…deceased - sorry dude - and three kids, 7, 8 and 12. Private schools, two full time au pairs. Private security. No legal run-ins, no flags, no references. Minimally viable digital footprint. High achiever, but not in the public eye. There you go. That's our square.
Mental shrug from John. Don't recognize him or the name, but that doesn't mean anything.
Jacob, plodding along at regular speed, responded to Chloe's verbal question. "I'm here, Mrs. Price, because we find ourselves at unnecessary odds, and I believe an adult conversation between us is long overdue. I'm here because I…we…owe you a series of apologies and rather obvious reparations for the continued poor behavior of our subordinates, representatives and associates over the years. Unsanctioned, but we bear ultimate responsibility nonetheless. And I've asked you here out of genuine admiration and respect, knowing full well you have no reason to trust me. But we have to begin somewhere. And it's my firm hope that we might eventually build enough of an understanding to arrive at a mutually beneficial and acceptable agreement, if not quite friendship or cooperation. To that end, I come bearing gifts and offerings…"
Max interjected to the link, That usually ends well in movies, right? Something about a hollow chocolate horsey full of dudes, or…?
Sophie snickered.
Chloe mentally shushed them. Said aloud, "Seconds ticking down…"
"I am rather surprised that you're not taking the opportunity to elicit information, even if you're ultimately disinterested in what I have on offer…"
"Assuming you are who you haven't said you are. And assuming I care enough to care. Still waiting for the cliché 'offer you can't refuse' bullshit…"
"I certainly hope you won't refuse. But I have no illusions of control. I should think you'd want to at least hear me out, consider it, alongside your advisors or others. I wouldn't waste either of our time if I didn't believe you'd find our proposal of some value. We want more than peace, Mrs. Price. It shouldn't have ever been otherwise. You know that. But grievous errors were made - owing to supervisory lapses on our end. Rogue elements allowed to roam. It's put us on our back foot in this relationship. But those higher up are taking a firmer hand for the time being. The organizational leadership in the US that allowed these unfortunate events and interactions is…phasing out, shall we say."
Chloe squinted, "So that's confirmation of national autonomy with some form of global centralized oversight or control?"
Jacob smiled. "There you go. At some levels, yes. But it's still missing the point. I could provide you with a more detailed structural understanding later, if you wish to proceed beyond this conversation. Within reason - none of us has the full picture for rather obvious reasons."
"Interesting. So, these 'rogue' elements…"
"The events of New Year's last weren't borne of any considered top-down strategy, if you take my meaning. Nor was the unfortunate incident in Las Vegas years ago. Think of them as poor 'street level' decisions, fueled by an odd mismatch of insecurity and hubris. Each, was its own sort of localized madness, driven by an uninformed fear, ambition beyond any earned scope. Agendas aren't always aligned. Or equally informed. And when they are, their expressions can still deviate from acceptable limits. You yourself have some of our former associates among your ranks - you must know that we're not uniformly insane?"
"…"
"In time, then. On the whole, I'd characterize us as far more conservative than you might imagine. I don't mean that in the political sense, of course. Those are two edges of a three-sided coin. I meant behavioral. Exerting only a subtle influence for the most part. Invisible guidance through the dangers of the forest."
Max choked a little. More like guidance deeper into the heart of a forest you've actively set on fire…
After the briefest pause, Chloe said, "We'll come back to the forest bit, but speaking of subtle - I am curious about something. Why come to me? And not Caulfield, I mean? Why the end-run at the sidekick?"
Jacob nodded. "I suspect there's more to you than 'sidekick', but in truth, it's only conjecture. From what little knowledge we've retained of her - thanks in no small part to the redactive successes of your tech teams against our records - I believe we'll need your help convincing her that this is the best path forward for all of us. She'd never entertain with an open mind if you weren't already on board."
Chloe, aside to the link, Okay…I have literally no idea what he's talking about with this - did we hit their data stores or something? Did we even know about them? anyone? no?
Mental shrugs all around.
Max offered, Maybe FutureUs did something behind the scenes? I'd buy that.
Jeremy, more slowly, …or, there's another player on the board…
Chloe gave a link-shrug. Not sure if that's helpful or frightening. Occam for now. Maybe their software took a dump and their admins blamed the big bad… Which is prolly us, to them, I guess? Not enough info.
Chloe, to Jacob, "Lot of assumptions in there. You really think you can convince me that we should make nice with the Legion of Doom?"
He smiled. "I understand that your experiences with us have justifiably led you to a certain place, Mrs. Price. But as I said, we have to begin somewhere. I'm taking a chance here too. And I've been candid with you out of a sincere respect. There's too much at stake for all of us, and I'm unconvinced that our relationship must necessarily be adversarial."
Chloe switched topics. "I notice you haven't asked about Andersen. Or that other, Dudeman Broguy whatever his name is…"
"Not my concern. I assume they've been helpful to you in some way. If they're still alive, perhaps some of what I'm sharing might be validated in small part. Neither was terribly senior, but Gabriel in particular has been around long enough to provide some sense of what is and isn't true."
Chloe leaned back, squinted. "So like, this is interesting and all, and I have a ton of questions if you're really willing to answer 'em straight, but I gotta ask, what's your angle in this? Mole? Diplomat? Mousetrap? What's your role? You're not Dr. Evil himself, so what is it you want? Let's get that out of the way? It would help me to understand where you fit, and what your personal agenda is here…"
"It's rather simple. I want to open a proper, respectful dialog. And I have the provisional authority to do so. Hopefully build the foundation for a better relationship, to whatever level you're ultimately open."
Chloe shrugged, eyes up, "Okay, build rapport, mutual benefit, blah blah. What do you really want, Wallace?" She smiled slightly at the last.
His smile returned was the only acknowledgment that he understood. "Ultimately? I'd like to offer her the United States…"