Jacob controlled his breathing. She might have appeared surprised for an instant on the screen, but he couldn't be certain of anything - Price's responses, what twists the conversation, negotiations, might take after. Assuming they got that far in whatever final version of reality those two deemed most favorable to themselves.
…if that was even remotely how Caulfield did it.
He didn't lie earlier; held no illusions of control.
His identity was compromised going in, his loss of anonymity acceptable. If inevitable.
Anecdotal evidence suggested that they didn't take lives, so he knew the physical risk was low.
Even so, he didn't wish to repeat the common, obvious mistake; underestimating them.
Instead, he and his most senior thought-partners erred toward massive overestimation while formulating their path. It narrowed options but simplified their approach. No one ever had a talent so extreme, so…faceted and adaptive. And certainly, never one who built up a global organization around herself like a shield. Twenty-thousand associates, in fewer than three years - she's already surpassed many of the younger mainstream families through her manipulations; can't take anything for granted.
Even the precognitives were blind to the outcome. Often the case with Caulfield's organization. Direct alteration of timelines was messy enough, but the advice of her precogs also shifted projected futures, changing what those on his side saw in turn, changing recommended actions on both sides, moving events yet again in the preemptive back and forth of their speculative psychic cold war. A war in which nothing actually occurred… But it was tiring. Paralyzing to his superiors.
Whether he could pull this off remained to be seen. His efforts were watched by the upper echelons and would be dissected by his peers well beyond his time. Big stage. High-stakes. Everyone understood these were unique circumstances. He wasn't nervous about the visibility. He'd grown into his father's role, into his machine, over a lifetime. Backed by teams of professionals, experienced, with each team below them harvested from the best and the very brightest, everyone at the pinnacle of their respective careers. And after all their exhaustive debates, modeling, arguments and rigorous analysis, his top advisors agreed. Now was the best window, this plan the best approach to his ends.
That the Board sanctioned his solution was, itself, an unprecedented and starkly honest acknowledgment of her strength. Six-percent of the world's land, four percent of its population, and a third of its total wealth. For one person. If only for a single lifetime.
All for a chance to reclassify her away from 'enemy'. And perhaps, eventually, to cultivate her as an ally. It was less about the chaos she'd caused, and more about containing the chaos she'd naturally create over the next sixty-odd years of her life.
But he knew, there was no telling what wonders they might accomplish if he was able to spin her over to their side. First things first.
He wasn't especially nervous about Caulfield or Price either. They'd make up their minds on the merits. He was concerned about the ultimate direction, the outcome, of course. This was likely the last chance to recover to any mutual compromise. If they were half as smart as he suspected, they'd see their own advantage in it.
Other plans, designs, would roll downhill if they ultimately declined to participate. Not his.
He still favored a sort of quarantine in response to that eventuality, a going dark, if only for the duration of her life. Avoidance as a practicality. Wasn't up to him of course. Had his doubts about the likely efficacy of any additional confrontational paths, but better minds, perhaps. Element of chance? Maybe. …probably not. She has such a profound mechanical advantage with time movements alone. Never-mind the other stories. But they may not feel they have the choice if she breaks the olive branch.
He had the fleeting thought that if her circumstances were to become genuinely dire, this conversation may be an inflection point to which she'd eventually return. Would he know? Would she tell him?
Regardless, either direction they chose after today was a validation of his father's legacy. Or, at least a 'told you so' echoing forward from his earliest calls for moderation. That was something. Jacob wasn't quite along for the ride. He'd try to guide, persuade, but indeed, no illusions. It was freeing in many ways. Left many forks in the road ahead, all equal in his eyes. Allowed him a negotiator's remove.
He studied her face on the screen. Price. Couldn't assume the conversation was new to her, or that they hadn't already played this through a thousand ways, a thousand times. Was Caulfield working behind the scenes? Would he feel the invisible marionette strings sewn into him between moments? Did he dance already?
His strategy, to counter all of that uncertainty, and his clear disadvantage, was to be as honest as he possibly could. No inventions or improvisational falsehoods that might trap him or break developing trust. No threats, bluffs. He didn't know exactly what plans the hierarchies above had on reserve, but none of that would matter today. Wouldn't be the thing that swayed them, if anything did.
A movement.
Price finally spoke. "The fuck does that even mean?"
She sounds sincere. …perhaps this is the first time for both of us?
Max looked at her shoes, the dark scuffs on light rubber. Couldn't be sure which continent rubbed off. In the accelerated thought-frame of Sophie's link, she nodded slowly, her half-smile distant. No… I get it. It makes perfect sense. For them, I mean.
John pondered, Someone reasonable would have to figure it out eventually. Right? If they can't win - walk away? Finally convinced others, or asserted their point of view. Could be a power shift, or…
Chloe interrupted, …or they're just assholes from the third dimension behaving like 3-D assholes. Maybe we're only on with a single faction, or they're baiting us…open-face lying, like the evil Earth-frying dicks they are…
Jeremy whistled out, floors below. It can't have been easy for any of them to arrive here. The cost in pride, never-mind the operational chaos this will create for them…
Chloe raced ahead. Uber-obvious scenario - it's a control. A leash…something stupid. Least, whatever it is has to be to their advantage long-term, or they wouldn't bother, right? And WTF does 'we want more than peace' mean, BTW? Am I the only one super creeped out by that?
Jeremy considered, I don't know. But there is a chance this outreach may be different, Chloe. We shouldn't discount how formidable our collective appears from the outside, or our substantial impact in such a short run - they know us far better than we know them, yet they're the ones making a grand gesture. Acknowledging us as peers, or at least, rivals of a scale worthy of respect. Survival pressure. Whatever it is, for once, they're approaching us as equals…
Chloe winked at Max, gave herself a mental hug. Aww. It's so cute how wrong they are…
Max smiled unconsciously at the reference.
I can see it coming, so I'll…play the devil's advocate, Jeremy offered. As principled and feel-good as an immediate 'no' might be to all of us, there are some far-reaching implications and consequences we should identify and think through - before we make any final decisions. Obviously…nothing is ever final with Max, which is also the strongest argument for exploring the branches in front of us. Whatever their intended meaning, we should treat him with similar respect, ask questions, listen. Consider his responses. We might get some goddamn answers for once - or maybe even find advantages ourselves somewhere in any arrangement. That they intend it as a control doesn't make it one. Nor does it guarantee things get worse for us. I'm going to guess this isn't something they've ever had to consider before… Need to see what's in the give and take of their initial offer of…sorry…giving us…Max…the whole…goddamn…country… No, that's not…we should push hard for all of North America. If the US was their opening bid, that means they're already prepared to let more go…
Sophie held worry out in front of her like an uncomfortable pillow.
Max thought softly, clearly, Plain fact remains. It's not theirs to give. Nor ours to take.
Reminded of present company, Sophie let it fall away.
Maybe true, Max, but semantics aside, if their influence could be attenuated…even for a while…
John jumped in, Do we need their fucking permission for that, Jeremy? Sorry, but isn't that already our entire global operational plan?
Jeremy broadcast his annoyance. Can't we find some advantage in turning their machine on itself? Even if only for a while? Given your prior defense of former colleagues, some of them at least, I'm surprised you're not the one taking my position, John… Didn't you just say that someone reasonable would have to make a play for us eventually?
Yeah, sure Jeremy, but look, most of the former colleagues I knew and respected are already current colleagues. Every one of them got filed under 'trust, but verify', and passed our not insignificant gauntlet of telepaths and future-casters. I've always said there are probably a lot of people, maybe even the majority working for them, who are like I was. Just people, doing something they think is mostly right. Small picture people, working in isolated silos of a big invisible machine. I don't want to go all Morpheus here, but until something changes, they're still part of that machine. Including this Jacob guy. And…Chloe's got some points. While there's no reason to assume he represents all of anything, the truer that is, and the bigger his picture, the less trustworthy it makes him. I don't know him, but if he's a hitter, he can't claim ignorance…or innocence. And if he's knowingly participating in any of the real shit that leads to Max and Chloe's hellscape on earth, there's no part of his deal we need to hook ourselves up to. We're not going to fix them. And we don't have to, so…I don't get this line that we have to give something up to get what we want. Not to them. Not when we'll do it all ourselves either way.
He hasn't said anything about that, John…
Oh, come on, Jer. You know where this leads. Give and take? What's that old line about compromise between food and poison?
…all I'm suggesting is that we listen with an open mind, on the chance that…
Max held up her hand in real-space, visible to all through Chloe's eyes. She had their pulse. Thanks - thanks, everybody, for your first gut reactions, and concerns, and of course you're all probably right in different ways. But - it's a rare opportunity - this moment - which is ticking, by the way. We should take advantage and learn as much as we can. They opened the cage door. I kinda wanna go in and poke the bear, yeah? Chloe?
Dude. Phrasing? But sure, I vote snoop. In all senses of those words, pretty much always, you know. But can we agree to assume like 94% of everything that comes out of Wall-ass's mouth is pure bullshit 'til proven otherwise? And…shit…I mean…I've been snarking with him to buy time, but what do I even say to the sales guy for the global death cult? Like, I'm trying to picture the end of the call - how does that even go? 'Toodles'? 'Laters'?
Max shrugged. Maybe you could politely request that they not do any of that mega-doomish stuff? If it's not too much bother?
You know Max…this is maybe a better fit for your conversational charms - do you want to come in with him?
K? I guess. You're doing fine, but if you're sure you don't mind? He did call you. Max crinkled her nose.
Please. It's so obvious he's only using me to get to you. Besides, your universe dude…
Well, technically, I'm visiting, but… Max shrugged lazily. Eh. Just thinking out loud…in…thoughts. Shut up. I don't know - maybe I'll crash in unannounced? He has to expect that. I mean, guess it doesn't matter how we do the handoff, long as I keep the last pass clean, you know? Okay, sorry - um, executive decision. Chlo, we can play the cube game if we can, Soph, you'll see it all second hand, after anyway. Which means everybody else will - are you all good debriefing and making some decisions later? Have a feeling there's gonna be some jumpin' around here…
They shared general thoughts of agreement.
Sophie reached out. Max, please, be careful. They've had a lot of time to get very good at manipulation…
Chloe rolled her inner eye. Soph…you did not just say that to Max?
Sophie giggled to herself, underlining her joke as she disconnected them all.
Max knitted her eyebrows, wrote on her notepad, Information about a person isn't the same as the person. Do you know where he is yet?
The holo reformed in front of Max. Tiny letters blinked once. LOL.
They morphed to a real-time satellite view with a map overlay.
Downtown Singapore.
A dot. A building wireframe.
Elevation markers.
Max folded herself to the other side of the globe, suspended in open airspace. The warm sunset hues of Chloe's office crossfaded to the bright, crisp sunrise skies over Singapore. The skyscrapers of downtown clustered below, reaching up to the edge of light like so many broken crystal stalagmites. Across the bay, the observation wheel, Skypark complex and Marina Bay Sands gleamed.
She knew the skyline. They crashed the infinity pool bridging the top of all three hotel towers a full year before they had an office here. Chloe maintained an unusually long bucket-list.
To business, Max opened a minor wormhole between cities. Six tiny hummingbird drones flitted through the sphere, spit up, disappeared at velocity. They joined at least half a dozen native cousins already searching out the last of Wallace's remotely operated protective drones. Chloe would see everything they saw. And they'd see what Chloe wanted them to.
A double-click in her ear. Time to thin the herd. Max descended to the tallest of the buildings below, alighting in silence beside a lone rooftop overwatch guard, a neat line of cigarette butts beside him.
She reached down, rested her hand on his shoulder. Before he could finish rolling, she folded them to a bridge over the Seine, left him on his back in the Paris night. Unarmed, with no devices, comms or identification. She repeated the process with another sniper on an adjacent office tower before heading back to the one Chloe marked as Wallace's.
Two on that roof. Max slowed the world, relieved the men of their possessions. One she left on a doorstep at McMurdo Station in Antarctica. The other in a restroom of a high-security government office tower in Beijing.
On her return, she glanced over the side of the rooftop. A large private balcony jutted out some distance down. Farther below, the morning street-traffic pulsed in opposing flows of red and xenon amidst descending shadows and rising white noise.
Through her earpiece, Chloe's simulated voice; her real one still in use with Wallace back home. "K, Sparky. Pwn'd the drones. Four more meatbags in the living room below you, two outside in the foyer. Faux-yay? Foy-er? Anyway. Twenty-something more on floors below. Up to you on that. Another two in the lobby at ground level. Wallace is alone in an office two doors down from the end of the hall, right side. Room's bugged. Short term lease; nothing weird on the engineering docs, floor plans or scans, so…you're clear, doll."
Max hopped onto the low safety wall. "Thanks love. See you inside." Clicked off. Over the edge, she dropped six floors to the balcony, slowed herself, landing softly in a crouch. Through the multi-pane blur of reflected daybreak, she spied two business-looking people in the kitchen, two more on an oversized white sofa, huddled over their notebooks on the coffee table.
She reached up to the cold metal handle, gave a push. Locked. She slowed the world, tried again. The handle broke off, but not before the metal latches holding the slider in place sheared with a low snap. Shifted back to normal flow, slid open the door, alarms blaring. Two men rushed in through the front door on the far side of the living room, rifles ready. Two of the four inside unholstered their weapons, half turning. The woman closest recognized Max; dropped the pistol from her left hand while her right shot up as a signal to the others to stop.
Learning is fun. Max walked in, spun the world back before any of them could react further.
Inside. Door locked. No alarms or awareness of her yet.
She could bubble them. Leave them frozen while she chatted. But she wanted to leave a message behind at the end of it all. Or at least reinforce an impression, maybe. Plus, it was kinda funny. Totally worth the few minutes of effort to disperse Wallace's entire support and security contingents semi-randomly across the face of the world. Leaving dozens of wallets and phones and earpieces and guns arranged in helpful piles down the length of the marble kitchen counter.
Jacob offered a restrained smile, responded, "It could mean any number of things, Mrs. Price. Dependent on what degree of isolation, or participation, might align with your collective goals or threshold for comfort. But, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves…"
"Sorry - hang on, Jake." Chloe absently put up her hand, looked away from the camera, distracted.
He was more amused than annoyed by her attempted affront. It was a familiar name, last used fondly by old school chums.
Chloe looked through him. "…company."
Beyond the monitor, the front wall of his office suite opened, slid sideways along the rails.
Caulfield. It's been only minutes - that's…she really can… He didn't know if her sudden arrival resulted from teleportation or time travel but noted the difference was academic. She's here. It was one eventuality. He started to rise, but she motioned for him to stay. Not in an imperious sort of way, but casually, as if to say 'no, please, don't on my account.' He held a hand to an empty lounge chair on her side of the desk. She poured herself into it as if she owned it. Her arm casually draped over the side-rest, her knees crossed.
"Might I offer you tea or coffee? I don't believe you're of age for the hard stuff, but if you'd prefer something else, I could have it prepared for you. Assuming…I do hope they're unharmed. They wouldn't have interfered with you today."
Max waved her hand dismissively. "No, I'm good, thank you. They're fine, by the way. Might be a little lost, but they're all adults. I'm sure they'll manage."
She wasn't at all what he expected. Smaller. And much, much younger.
Max had questions. She clasped her hands over her knees and looked across the desk at the well-manicured man opposite her. Kept her voice and expression neutral, matter-of-fact. "I'm curious - what's the connection between your organization and the billions of murdered worlds buried out there in the dark?"
"…I'm…sorry - would you repeat that?" Wallace looked back as though he misheard the sounds, or wasn't sure they compounded to form real words.
Chloe snorked from the other side of the screen. "Queen of subtle…"
Max studied him. Too little sleep around his eyes. Recent shave and still-damp hair. No cologne. Omega watch peeked out from under a pressed, cuffed sleeve of his conservatively tailored suit.
To Max, his appearance seemed curated; but he had the bearing of a working politician. Not the TV-cheeseball type. More the behind-the-scenes kind. Maybe diplomat was the better description? She'd met a few. Made sense someone like him would be the one. But she couldn't tell if his reaction was genuine confusion or training. Not yet.
As she evaluated, the second half of Edgar Mitchell's quote from earlier crept back into her mind. 'From out there…international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, 'Look at that, you son of a bitch.'
It crystallized an idea. Or maybe a test.
Fuck it. This is a brute-force Q&A loop anyway. "Let's cut to it, Jacob. Chloe, dippin' out. Extra cake in the fridge if you want it."
"Ooh. Cake. No such thing as extra, by the way. Have fun, babe."
Before the last of Chloe's voice faded, Max safety-bubbled part of the room around them, folded everything inside two-hundred miles straight up. The ceiling and three of the walls were gone, open to space. She re-oriented, to position the circular section of remaining office wall to the east, between them and the sun. Kept the world, half in darkness, below.
Uncertain, surprised, Jacob rapidly spun his head to try to see it all. Then swiveled his chair with more deliberation, scooted, leaned out. Finally, he said, "This…this is an inspiring projection technology." He looked beyond the edge of the floor, to the bright half-circle below. "It's fantastic - is it from a real-time satellite feed?" His enthusiasm seemed real, anyway.
Max smiled. Stared at her folded hands. Waiting. "Real time, yes. …not a projection."
He snapped back.
She met his eyes, unmoving. Gave a small bored shrug.
He looked away, sucked in a breath. His eyes widened before he regained his calm, let the breath out again. He challenged with a confident smile, "Hmm… No, no, we'd…we'd float away if that were true."
Max shook her head slowly, lips pursed. "We're parked." She looked past him. "We don't experience a free-fall effect if we're not in orbital free-fall. You…you didn't think there was no gravity in space, did you? It's nearly the same up here as on the ground. I know, it's obvious but counter-intuitive."
Growing panic in his expression as he made mental connections and reality set in. "Oh." Blood drained from his knuckles as he gripped his chair, he pulled back from the edge of the floor, wheeled, scrabbled toward the desk, toward center. Delayed flight response with nowhere to go but in.
She asked again. "What's the connection between your little cabal and all the dead worlds out here?"
His face paled, glistened with the sheen of involuntary nervous sweats. He hugged his desk, gripping at its flat surface, eyes shut tight. "I don't know I don't know I don't know what you're asking or what you mean why are we breathing this isn't what…I feel sick…I'm…" He was shaking.
Max intended to catalyze a sort of calm awakening, to let him feel for himself that sense of tranquility and wonder and scale and cosmic unity, the fragility of Earth - as a relatable backdrop for her questions. That didn't work. He was turning funny shades of green. Shit. Chloe took to space like…well, like a Chloe to space. Guess it's not for everyone, no matter how together they are on the ground.
He heaved.
Yeah…fail. Ok…wait…don't barf, don't barf, don't barf! She folded them to ground level on the far side of Planet Steve. Bubble released, their circular chunk of floor settled onto a wide stretch of warm beach. The wall held. Sand lay a foot below the floor's sharp perimeter. One of the moons and two of the suns crept across the sky, as a few high clouds wandered away. A sea breeze pushed inland to the fields and forests behind them, adding distant whooshing noises to the abundant calls of wildlife. Beautiful day out at least.
Wallace clung to his desk, resting his head, eyes closed, breathing hard.
Max let him be. She bounce-stepped to the edge and hopped off the platform. Over-corrected, pitching forward awkwardly into the sand. She looked around. No one saw that. First few steps in Steve's reduced gravity were always a little wonky. Muscles, inner ear all needed to adjust. She took a few loping hop-steps, stopping short of the dark, wet line marking the upper reach of the water's edge. Tiny air-holes peppered the darker sand.
A mile out to sea, long, tall, slow-moving waves broke against the sandbars, breaks, and reef-like structures, sending placid echoes inward to their beach.
Max fell backward to land in her shadows, kicked off her shoes and socks. Waited for him to recover.
The sand felt good. She dug her toes into the cooler layers below. Salt air, suns, green and red clumps of sea-plants drifting, water lapping over the shore. We need to make time for a vacation. Just Chloe and me…
Something nibbled. Tickled. Friendly little sand cleaners.
Behind her, a creak, and a scratchy thump at the end of his fall. She called over her shoulder, "Watch that first step. And give yourself a few minutes to adjust. It'll feel weird for a while. But hopefully better. Sorry - I didn't expect you to react like that."
Odd shuffles drew closer. Wallace let himself down, gently, a few feet to her right. Knees half-bent, his creased and cuffed legs extended toward the water. His dark leather dress shoes fought off clinging sand grains. His breath remained uneven, if improved.
Max, distracted by the rhythm of the strange and distant waves, "You get used to it. You know, we…Chloe took some measurements. The atmosphere's close, but a little different. More oxygen, but the air's thinner. Less per breath than earth - but not by much. You're feeling everything at once is all."
He coughed. Struggled his words out in rasps. "I must take motion sickness pills when I fly…"
"Kinda…ah…didn't realize. My bad. Sorry 'bout that."
He looked back to the forest, then up to the sky. Rubbed above his eye. "Where?"
A squadron of four-winged shore 'birds' called out overhead, playing in the currents.
Max chuckled. "Chloe and I named it 'Steve'… It's super-dumb, but…it stuck. It was a dead rock when we found it. Had been a living world once, in the distant past. We…brought it back. Guess we kind of adopted the place after that, you know? Anyway, you're sitting on an ocean beach of a Mars-sized exoplanet, orbiting a trinary star system, a few hundred light-years from Earth…"
He cleared his throat. "…named Steve."
She smiled. "Yeah. And really? That's the weirdest part?"
"I…wha…" He laughed softly to himself, "I'm not at all prepared for this. We did our best not to underestimate…you…aren't at all what I expected."
She tossed a few pebbles into the waves. "Imagine. And we've only just met."
He carefully brushed the sand from his trousers. "What now?"
Max leaned back. "Now we can talk."
Jacob nodded. "Do you mind, a minute? I'm still…"
Max wiggled her feet beneath the sand. "Course."
Staring out to sea, he asked, "Tell me about the last book you enjoyed?"
She didn't expect that. "Huh?"
"It will help me to understand you better."
"Well, okay. But only if you tell me about your late wife. It will…help me understand you, if I understand what you care about. And why."
He hesitated. "You…well…" Relented. "…fair."
Chloe clanked her fork against the dish, swallowed cake. Dark outside.
So fucking good. Wonder how many times I've eaten this though? Am I in this like, total recursive chocolate-cake-eating time-loop? Worse fates I guess.
Max popped into existence across the counter. "Hi, love." Blew Chloe a kiss, pulled up a stool.
"Mrrph. Oh. Hey, dude. Been like four hours. Finally said fuck it. Cake?" Chloe cut another small piece with her fork.
"Heh. Not without milk. I am hungry for real food though. Four hours for me too. Steve says 'hi' by the way." Max hopped off her stool, turned, opened the fridge with a 'schwoop' of rushing air. Liberated a container of raspberry yogurt from the door, twirled back to her seat with a flourish.
Chloe leaned her elbow on the counter. "How'd it go?" Took another lazy bite.
Max grabbed a spoon, stirred. "Not done. Pit-stop on my way back to the final pass. Hey, you mind if I tell you everything now, and you can maybe update a cube for yourself? I don't wanna have to redo The Grand and Awesome Scattering of His People, and there's a five-second gap outside his door I can use to drop you a copy of this convo. That way, you'll know what's up before I get in there with him?"
Chloe shrugged. "No, dude. It's cool. I can take a memo. Kinda weird being my own executive assistant, but whatevs. Mind if I keep eating though? Curious to see if this cake will be as good the second time. You know, for science?"
Max laughed, "I adore you, weirdo."
Max brought Chloe up to speed on her loops with Wallace, what she learned, and what was next.
Chloe slumped. "Shit, Max. I thought this might have been a bigger break."
"I know. Might still. Eventually. Just a different kind maybe. …it's a big crack at least. Know way more than we did?" Max shrugged.
"Catch and release?"
"Yeps. Bad timing is all. But…let's see if we can't trigger a few defections in the final pass. Maybe weed some of the casuals from the hardcore?"
Chloe lifted the final bite. "Interesting to see how this plays out." Popped it in her mouth.
"Yeah." Max got up, made a face, cleared the table and wiped down the counter.
Chloe watched, chin in her hand. "Hmm. You're so funny sometimes."
Max turned. "Huh? This? Oh yeah. I guess. Don't want to leave you with a mess is all."
"So considerate. Get a last kiss before you reset?"
"Course." She met Chloe halfway around, gave her a long, relaxed hug. "Mmmmmrph."
Max smelled like sunshine. Chloe kissed her goodbye. Handed Max the cube, felt a brief stab of fear. "Okay, go, quick. Fuckin' weird, knowing it's coming."
Max nodded in understanding. Like it wasn't the first time she'd heard it. "See you before, love."
Chloe closed her eyes.
Quietly, Max said, "Poof."
Nothing.
Chloe opened an eye. Scanned left and right. Opened the other.
Max was gone.
But everything else was still the same. Including herself.
She patted at her body, just to be sure.
"Wait. What the shit?"
Max clasped her hands over her knees and looked across the desk at the well-manicured man opposite her. "I understand you have an offer for us?"
He folded his hands on the desk. "Yes, although I was hoping to preview the broad strokes to Mrs. Price, for her feedback and guidance prior to taking up your…"
"You get used to it," Chloe's voice intruded from the screen facing Wallace.
He locked eyes with Max. "Apologies. You have me at a disadvantage."
"That's never gonna not be true." Max smiled, not unkindly. Held his gaze.
Chloe again, "Yeah…try and roll with it, Jake. Gets easier."
Max continued, "Okay, so… I'm here to discuss your unconditional global surrender. But…you know, you called us - what's your thing? You go first."
Chloe circled the kitchen. "Max?" Merged into the building's feeds. There was hustle everywhere - full house. Pushed out to the Vegas surveillance shell, crowded and crazy as usual. None of them should exist. Max left. Or…should they? Fuck.
A footfall behind her.
She pulled back to herself, spinning to the sound.
"Oh! …oh… You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me…"
"…come on. Can't hold the collapse too long or they'll notice."
Jacob thought he should feel something in her presence. Trepidation, awe, anger. Something. Her looks deceived. Disarmed. Here was a girl, the girl, not three feet from him.
She found him from a world away. A girl who once moved an entire mountain, supposedly. Even with their digital evidence of the event erased, their geologists, cartographers confirmed the seismic, topological and magnetic readings unambiguously last year. The area within a measurable circumference had, at the least, rotated by a full degree from where it began. Unimaginable, even if the rest was nonsense.
And yet, sitting face to face, his doubts lingered. Such an extreme talent as that couldn't possibly be. And certainly not in the form of this slight creature. He knew better; that what he perceived to be a cute fluffy kitten was, in reality, a fearsome and fully-grown lioness. But the part of his brain attached to his eyes disagreed. All he could see, sense or feel was that harmless kitten. The same mind-trap which tangled so many into miscalculation.
He set his thoughts aside, put on a face, reclaimed momentum. "I was working on a speech for when we met. It was meant to set the tone. Forgive me, but missing it is the unfortunate penalty for short-circuiting my process. Instead, you'll experience the unpolished matter-of-facts, Mrs. Caulfield.
"As I was previewing to your partner, these are preliminary conversations, but we're fully prepared to cede you the territory of the contiguous United States, to do with as you will. In the first scenario, we pull away, and it's yours to control, free from our influence or interference, for the duration of your natural life. You grant us the same assurances regarding the remainder. We don't cross paths again.
"But…in another, and this may be the more intriguing direction, you assume the leadership role for the same territory within our organization. A vacancy is opening regardless, and you've proven more than capable. Existing families, houses could choose exile elsewhere, or remain under your direction. Not all who are born into this world fully embrace all aspects of our momentum. Some might welcome the change of local direction that comes with new leadership. A few rules, but you'd find a place at our table. A voice. A vote. An opportunity to influence the broader activities of our collective over time…"
He thought she might have shifted in her chair. Appeared to consider. Finally, she said, "You're offering me a job. Working for whom, exactly? On what specific agenda? Sorry. Rhetorical. Both flavors are generous, and I recognize the gesture didn't come easily. But we'll have to respectfully decline. Even at the outer limits of what you're prepared to give away, it's not a beneficial deal for us."
"But…"
"You came to us, which I appreciate, but…we don't need anything from you guys. We're not going to quarantine ourselves within artificial borders when our world is a connected whole. We're not going pull our clean water, fusion or food initiatives. Or any of our other projects. They're meant to help. Which is both the means and the end of our plan. We won't ignore the preventable suffering of others around the world - for…what? There's no reason to withdraw back to the States for some tenuous promise of safety that we can guarantee ourselves. Our goals, our missions, supersede yours in every way. I could go on. But we've spoken about the conditions you intend long enough for me to see the specific controls. Enough to know it's not going to be a fit." She paused, addressed the back of his computer. "Hey, Chloe, I'm gonna cut you loose. You can go ahead and drop off - we'll catch up later."
Price, still onscreen, appeared annoyed, but not surprised. Disconnected.
He did the math. "I see. Of course. That explains the…I…you moved, I think. For how long have we been speaking?"
To his surprise, she answered plainly. "Half a day. Give or take."
It worried him. A disquieting sense of violation, loss of agency... What transpired in those lost hours? He experienced mere minutes with her. He was confident in his approach, but could he be sure of his every minor reaction, when picked at repeatedly? "Am I to assume, then, that my arguments were uniformly unpersuasive? Have I failed us all so utterly? I don't wish for any of what might come next…"
She nodded. "You made some compelling points. I've come to understand your role - and I believe your sincerity. Don't misunderstand - you're still the bad guys, even if you won't own the worst effects of your collective behaviors. All that's gonna come to an end, of course; how is up to you. But I see now; your people's fear, lashing out, comes from a place of misunderstanding. Of the world, of yourselves. Of us, our motivations, where we're headed - even what we are. Which is nothing like any of you…"
He struggled to connect. "Then please…tell me, what are you like? If I'm ignorant, educate me. Share your objections, that I might help the others understand. There must be room for common ground. And if not, perhaps ground itself might be changed, made common - fence-lines moved, boundaries redrawn. We don't desire to retain you as an enemy. And you shouldn't seek it of us."
She looked away, unconcerned. "I don't see it like that. It's more you're irrelevant."
Her casual dismissal stung, even as her voice soothed. The feeling surprised him.
She continued, "Unchallenged, you're all a danger to this world. But you're not unchallenged this time."
"We're not a danger…"
"…sorry Jacob, you are. And I'm not interested in subtly influencing your collective over the next sixty years…in making your actions maybe slightly less reprehensible. I see the appeal for you. The arms-length of it. I know that part of you senses something's broken, without seeing it's you. But understand, we're also not in it for any of…this. Wealth and power and whatever else… If we were, we'd already have all of it. But, I do appreciate the efforts you've gone to reach out to us. And I…well, against better judgement, perhaps, I have a counter-offer for you and your peers or whoever else. I know they probably won't accept today, but…"
"What was it you said? Unconditional surrender?" He didn't feel like smiling, but he did. He could accept the failure, if only he felt as though he'd participated in it. This was hollowed out; missing time. He wasn't prepared to give up so absently.
She gave him what might have been an ambiguously kind smile. "I was kidding. We both know better. You're barely middle management. You'd have us join your collective as equals, but shackled and blind as you all are, bound to follow fragments of plans you yourself don't understand, doled out over decades by people you don't know, for an unknown purpose far beyond your lifetime. All in exchange for what privilege you enjoy now, and the promise of the same for your children. That's what you'd have us become, if only to avoid open conflict. Another cog. But it's because you don't understand. None of you do. You're all incredibly stupid and petty and selfish and the most absolute boring kind of evil, and what you do causes genuine harm to everyday people, but…you're not the ones shaping the big picture. Which makes it all the more tragic. And our refusal, our independence, all the more necessary for everyone else."
Pushing her words aside for later, but sensing an opportunity to keep an open dialog, he said, "You were kind enough to listen to my offer. The least I can do is to hear yours. Help me understand what you mean?"
Max went over all of this with him at one point or another in prior loops. But she was only exploring. Satisfied, she had a series of arguments to guide him through before parting ways. Thought contagions individual enough to pass a scan, mixed with a few persuasive talking-points she'd agreed to arm him with during her final pass.
And an audience. She knew the cameras were there. Asked Chloe to leave them be. She wanted their dialog, this manifesto, recorded. It was meant for the others as much as for Jacob.
She spoke deliberately. "My counter is simple, Jacob. Either get out of our way, retire - or put everything you have, every last resource you can lay your hands on, and as many of the others around the world as will join you, to work for us."
"How would your suggested partnership differ from…"
"Not as co-equal partners, of course - you don't deserve to be that. You've said more than a few times that most of you were born to this life, but far as I can see, you've all chosen to stay, to participate in countless shitty, unforgivable decisions - so that's just how it has to be. You can either wind it all down and disappear, or do whatever you can to help. As some attempt at personal or familial atonement or salvation…or out of pure self-interest, as the obvious and only choices you have left. Because I know where all those fragments of plans lead. Even if none of you thought to ask."
Jacob slowly crossed his arms, his tone cautious. "That seems a terribly extreme and unlikely choice for the majority of my counterparts to willingly make, given their histories and…commitments. And it's a false selection that may not lead to the outcome you'd like - we're all deeply entwined with nearly every facet of functioning society. Ingrained in the minutiae of the day-to-day logistics necessary for the maintenance of civilization. You're asking the only experienced pilots to bail out of an aircraft full of passengers mid-flight."
"Your pilots are flying us into a mountain." She raised an eyebrow.
"That…interpretation aside…I fear you've also leapt to an overly broad and unfair characterization of quite a large number of people, Mrs. Caulfield. I openly acknowledge, and agree, that you've had unfortunate experiences with an unflattering side of us. You have. And we wish to make that right. But you've also recruited from among the best of us. Our actions might appear uncomfortably grey sometimes, even to ourselves, but we're all human, too."
Max shrugged. "No, I know. I get all that. It's why we're still talking, and why there's an offer on the table for you at all. For the others you represent. Families. Whatever. And the ones you don't. In your own ridiculous, convoluted, paternalistic ways, you all can think you're doing it to help the rest of us - to provide a structure and to guide us and control our rate of change - and you can continue to believe that justifies the rest - and what you take for yourselves. But believing only keeps you wrong for longer. And you guys are the wrong side of history right now. Full stop.
"By separating, setting yourselves above everyone, you failed at any pretense of being in it with the rest of us. But whatever - we both know it's all kinda bullshit anyway. It's easy to be taken in by your upbringing - a lifetime of wealth, fighting for the generational bragging rights or your positions in the little power-games you all play. Which would be harmless, except they're not.
"Here's the root of my issue - so you understand - I know what you'll eventually do to this world, left to your own devices. 10 billion dead. Countless more that should have otherwise existed. Food chain collapse. Nukes. Biowarfare. Mass extinctions. Unimaginable suffering, bringing out the worst instincts in a dwindling humanity for generations to come. So much was lost forever…" She trailed off, remembering. Caught herself, glanced up.
Jacob blanched. "With respect Mrs. Caulfield, that makes no sense. Those aren't our goals. The contrary. If this misunderstanding is the basis of our conflict, I beg you to consider - it wouldn't serve anyone to ruin the world. Even at your most cynical read of us, you have to see there's no status, no comfort or profit if everyone's dead. There's no shaping history if it ends. And no family legacy if there's no future…"
"Kinda my point." Max looked away. "But it's not a matter of consideration. I felt how…quiet the world gets. And how loud. Survived, while so many people…better people…way better than you or me…didn't… Have you ever in your life felt real hunger? Been without food for three weeks or more, when the last food you had before that wasn't nearly enough? I have. Something changes. Everything. It's hard to describe. And the…open pits, diseased and radioactive… the…the things people did to each other…" To Chloe. To all of them, I couldn't… She stopped the world. Forced herself to take a breath. Let it go. She took a beat, restarted and continued. "I lived through the nightmare world you created. That's the funny thing about time travel everyone forgets. The whole traveling through goddamn time part…"
He appeared surprised. "Wait - you…you're saying you were there…you can move forward?"
She deflected. "We're all moving forward, Jacob, but you're still missing my point…"
He pressed his hand to his forehead. "Okay - but…if it's as you say, you really must be mistaken with your conclusions then. Of the causes, of… If what you've…seen…is true, if the awful future you experienced is still waiting to be real, it's so far been invisible to us, our prognosticators. Something must have gone terribly wrong with the world you saw. But that doesn't automatically make it our fault. Or our world. It doesn't guarantee it will be true again. It hasn't happened yet, here. And if it comes, I swear, it won't be our choice…"
"Not by your design, maybe, but it's where the cumulative expressions of your control and influence ultimately lead. Or, perhaps, it's where you're being led." Max leaned back. "You guys suck all on your own, don't get me wrong - but your structure, your machine…I think you built a very dangerous tool. And now, there's a chance, a possibility, that it's being used as a weapon, intentionally turned on the world, to murder it slowly, over centuries… I don't know for sure. Or maybe it was originally constructed for that purpose. Or maybe it's not. But if so, somebody in your mystery hierarchy knows the truth. Meanwhile, the rest of you continue to blindly honor these old family deals with each other, and with whoever's sitting upstairs guiding the big picture. That's who I ultimately want, by the way. The man with the plan - the source of all this nonsense."
He shook his head, grappling with her words. "Mrs. Caulfield, Max - forgive me, even if what you say is true in some…speculative future, it would be a failure of our guidance, not the purpose. And if we are somehow responsible for that failure, or have somehow been used…don't we all stand a better chance with you helping us? Alerting us to the signposts, changing the course - and the outcome - from inside? You'd have more direct information, access to our people, and in time, a significant influence of your own. We're not without Inquisitors, but they aren't you. Aren't looking for the same things, perhaps. It wouldn't happen immediately, but I believe a strong case for audit committee participation or co-chair-ship could be made in short order, given your talents and knowledge. Surely you see that being close to the source of power and decisions is the best means to arrive at a better destination? You'd have a seat at our table, and the strongest bargaining position of anyone in history - but only if you combine forces with us."
Gotta give him credit… She chuckled, "That was smooth. Bringin' it back. I'm sure your pals would love sharing power with the new girl, and wouldn't hesitate to hand over control of internal affairs. But seriously, I'm not gonna be taking any chances with the fate of our world, thanks. If we're down to that, I could probably head everything off by killing you all right now. But I'm trying to avoid that too. Personal karma reasons, I guess. And there's always the strong possibility you'd only be replaced. I'm looking for a…kinder way?" She grew serious. "But there's one thing about me you and the others should understand. That's a choice I've made. To allow you to exist. But my patience for the harm you and your friends inflict on bystanders isn't infinite."
Jacob paused, stunned as though struck in the face. Processing the directness of her threat. He had the same expression in a prior loop. He finally replied, carefully, mirroring her seriousness. "We're all grateful, I'm sure, for your restraint, Mrs. Caulfield. But at the risk of further irritating you, I…I would again ask that you reconsider your isolation from us. Especially in light of what you believe to be true. If you joined, if you could see for yourself our tireless work, the breadth, scope of effort and care it takes to prop up civilization... While I have no doubt that there would be some among us who would work to isolate and marginalize your position at our table, control your voice, I'm not at all certain they could…"
Max rested her chin on her hand. "I'm certain they couldn't. And you? What would you want that's different? If not control?"
"To engage with you. Think of the wonders we might accomplish? With our influence networks, knowledge and resources? With your talent? Far beyond even the considerable amount you've done on your own."
She shrugged. "I'm hardly on my own. And you guys would still kinda point us in exactly the wrong direction I think… Your motivations shaped your architecture. Every day would be like fighting a rip-current. That's the funny thing, Jacob - without your collective interference dragging us all backward, the people of the world would probably build themselves a shiny future within a couple hundred years. Might have even had it by now, I don't know. But on balance, our way, we're gonna help them get there in a hundred. It's as controlled as we can make it while avoiding certain cliffs. You should be grateful."
"You have an unreasonably idealistic view of the mass of humanity," Jacob laughed, without conviction.
Max thought back to her afternoon adventures. "There's way more good than bad, especially under the right conditions. And yeah - I think they're fucking amazing. They deserve to make their own futures."
"It doesn't work as you expect." Jacob leaned back from the desk. "There will always…emerge those who collect power to themselves, and those they wield that power over. Or against. Unmanaged, it's random, bloody and dangerous. This way, our way, allowing some freedoms while moving together, the worst of the cults of personality and conflicts between old tribes and powers are tempered, vetoed. Sometimes, the least bad is still bad. It's not perfect. But through our influence, selecting who rises, who stalls, it's been better for most."
"And much better for the very few at the top than for most of the rest, I'd say. Which is right back to 'who influences you'? Can you be sure there are no concurrent networks? Parallelisms? Overlapping independent doom-cells inside? You'd have no way of knowing…"
"Not that I've ever heard of. But again, if you're truly concerned, that's all the more reason you should join us. Work with us, from inside. It's true, those I speak for are mostly angry, or fearful of you. For now. But they only see you as a confusing rival, a disruptive threat. They don't see your full potential. I do."
"You really don't." Max fought a smile.
Jacob tensed. Appeared troubled. Frustrated.
Good. About time. "Whatever. My motives here are simple. At one point, there were fewer than ten-million humans alive on Earth. I know, it's probably too abstract for you, but…believe me, what you're all doing now leads to all that death and suffering. I want it stopped. And of course, I want the world to come together, and I want them to rise. But…that's also up to them. Conditions have to be right. But here's a thing you guys maybe don't quite get yet - I don't even care about you. For all that. End of the world isn't happening again anyway. And you're only garden-variety global conspiracy evil. Job opportunities for asshole overlords will phase out in less than fifty years. It's partly why I've been willing to let you slide." She shrugged. "I mean, don't get me wrong - I have questions for the people above you in your organization. The ones designing and handing down these pieces of plans… And if the wholesale destruction of civilization, of life, honestly isn't what the rest of your peeps intend, maybe they should have some questions too."
"I feel as though we're splitting hairs," Jacob offered.
"We're not. I know, it's weird all at once like this. You came here asking me to work for you guys. Here I am, telling you that one day, you'll maybe work with us. But it's not the same. The difference is, it won't be the way you're operating now. Carving up the world and controlling in secrecy. It's wrong, and it stops..."
Jacob smiled, impatient. "This, coming from you? Who operates, manipulates, in no less secrecy?"
Ouch. Burn. Max squinted, replied, "That's…perhaps an uncomfortably fair point." Shit…didn't see that one coming…
"But you see, I won't condemn you for it, Mrs. Caulfield. You acknowledge, as do we, it's a manifest necessity - to operate freely, without the tedious complications of scrutiny. Meaningless dissection by others who lack access to complete information, or the perspective needed to objectively process it, were they in possession of the facts. Or open condemnation by the masses we seek to guide, who couldn't shoulder the burden of responsibilities we all bear on their behalf.
"They don't honestly wish for themselves the responsibilities of individual freedom or the continuous mental work of differentiating the moral complexities of truth - as we must. They take natural comfort in the illusion of it when packaged for them. What they need, what they find, is direction and distraction. Someone to show them how to behave, what to buy, what's acceptable, that they might get along. They don't want to feel as though it's being done, of course. They need their illusions…
"Publics are the least complex variable, in so many ways. Studies and history show they're satisfied with choice, even when they know the limited palette of similar options available were pre-selected for them. They'll demand safety, but reflexively fear those with the power to give it to them and the means by which it might be accomplished. They'll demand the freedom to express themselves, never grasping the irony that the thoughts they'd express were never their own. And that as often, no one around them would care to listen. And in their endless supply of empty outrage, they all wish for themselves freedoms they would routinely deny to others. They could never justly rule each other. They never have. Comment boards on the internet - that's an unfiltered portrait of your amazing, self-guiding humanity. I'm sorry to say it's unflattering.
"And all these contemporary notions of transparency are so awful in practice. Imagine the fear and recrimination if they even suspected what you alone could do? Beyond anything seen. Even if they couldn't harm you directly, they'd hound you to the ends of the earth. You might even have The Real Truths, all the way down from the mountain, but they'd never accept them from you if they suspected what you were. You fear their misunderstanding, their disapproval. And you're correct to do so."
Fuck. Nullifying tangent…we're dangerously close to a re-do here… hold on…maybe… "Maybe. Maybe that's all true. Maybe not. None of us are perfect. We're all just so many confusing blobs of brain parts trying to understand ourselves, and mostly getting it wrong - but we all deserve the benefits and responsibilities of our autonomy. That's the better way to say that, by the way - 'we'? And honestly, if you can't see the truth of what people are, if you don't love them or admire them, even just a little, then you can't possibly have their interests at heart - and you don't have any business at all trying to guide them anywhere."
Jacob pressed, his expression curious. "Honestly though, you don't see yourself as better?"
Okay, back on a familiar track. I can work with this. Max smiled as enigmatically as she could. "I'm…something different. And that does come with responsibility, I think. To try, to be helpful. But you'll never make things better if you see people as something to be controlled. Something separate or beneath you. It's right there in your language. A pronounced and external sort of 'they'. Which is funny, since it's how people relate to you as well, the ones who suspect or know of you, anyway. Them." Full circle - time to sink the hook… "But everything you've just said about your views of human nature and the dangers of self-rule and transparency could equally apply to you all, from the perspectives of those above you. But…you don't even know your own leaders, do you? Or theirs? How do you decide for yourselves if you agree with their agendas? Your agendas? You can't. And that, my friend, is the difference between us - autonomy. I have it. You don't. I know my agenda because I set it. And it's to help find a world where divisions, power imbalance, and needless, preventable suffering doesn't exist. I'm open and clear about everything I wish for our people and our world." She laughed, "It's mostly right there on our website."
He didn't react, but she knew her words would come back. Combine with others to form new thoughts…
He finally nodded to himself, as though they'd agreed on something. "Mrs. Caulfield, we're not that far apart. Timing and means, perhaps. Only, we've been at this long enough to know there's a balance to maintain, between leaders, nations, militaries, economic systems, commerce, levels of regional development. Controlled phases, measured change. Just imagine if it were all allowed to go on unmanaged. Look to the last couple of centuries, as a recent example - what if every nation on earth had industrialized at the same time - the conflicts over fuel and energy, the effects of pollution, population growth, arable land, so much more, would have multiplied catastrophically. Natural resources would have depleted completely by now… We're not at all uncaring or blind to human suffering. But there is a level of acceptable trade-off to the dangers and damage of unmanaged growth and progression. Some must unfortunately pause, regrettably suffer, that others be spared and advanced, with all the remainder eventually pulled along. There is a design, a stair-step or bootstrapping we've managed for them. The so-called first world and third world will reach a sort of parity within a century and a half. At a point when the technology and infrastructure are in place to handle the load…"
Max rolled her eyes. "…and at a point where you've successfully extracted the maximum leverage from finite resources in out-of-the-way places? Yeah. Right. Or…or…with all this wisdom you supposedly had, you could have invested in people, engaged them in their own future from the start. With comprehensive education, mutual respect, a culture of cooperation, basic infrastructure, fair compensation for the resources taken, there would have been hundreds of millions of new bright minds applied to collaborating, finding solutions to all kinds of problems. Add up the missing centuries of creative effort from the third world you created, and the whole world could have pulled themselves up, kickstarted a global surge of shared prosperity like nothing we've ever seen. With a simple push that would have cost so little at the time. Instead, you held some peoples, entire continents, back, leaving all the others diminished. Those decisions alone are so comically bad, so monstrously beyond unethical, and so completely misaligned with your stated goals, they bring us back to the obvious bullshit factor. You can lie to yourselves, but I don't buy it for a second. You guys just like being on top of everyone else. Fuck. That."
Jacob leaned back, held up his hands, eyes on the ceiling. "Your solution then is what? Go it alone? Give them all free energy they don't have any idea what to do with and hope they don't kill themselves? Cripple a significant percentage of the global economy that we've built in the process? There are so many unconsidered knock-on effects to that alone. Cascade failures…this wealth redistribution, hurting the rich to give to the poor nonsense is university Marxist cliche. It's had its uses, but… I know you're still young, but I expect more sophisticated circumspection from a thinking person of power, regardless of age…"
Max leaned forward. Made a 'yeah…no' face. "I think we're pretty far apart, Jacob. First, most obvious, it doesn't work. That plan you think is your plan - apparently, it isn't the real plan. Or maybe you're just terrible at executing it? I don't know. Everything went to shit long before any of that basic equality stuff could show up. And is that really what your cronies think of us, by the way? Robin Hood? That's the threat you guys are worried about? It's not pie. We're not taking from anyone. We don't want any of your money - you can keep it, whatever - literally don't care.
"We're not keeping the status quo though. Status quo sucks for way too many people. You already know that. But, making you poorer or your life worse doesn't help anyone, either. That assumes there's a finite money supply and you guys have it. But we know - value, wealth can be created where it never existed before. And we're all about attacking the cost side of things anyway - with the right technical advancements, intelligent automation, production costs for most things dropped to almost nothing. You guys have to have modeled this stuff too? Quality of life skyrockets, everyone benefits, 'need' becomes a distant memory as abundance becomes the norm? No 'need' for you, though, in any of that, right?"
He smiled weakly. "At least, then, we can agree that there are benefits to automation…"
Max shook her head. "Except your execution of it put people out of work without addressing the cost side that would've made it humane or sustainable. Complex algorithm chains and robots fucked everything pretty hard - least for a while. But they don't have to. They were handled wrong first pass. We'll do it better this time. If we add free energy to robots, give them better instructions, point them in the most beneficial directions, it's a whole different game…"
"Listen to you…you're talking about shattering intricate, finely tuned and interconnected global trade and financial systems - it's nowhere as simple as you seem to think… They aren't somehow separable from politics or power or any of the rest of the glue that binds societies - which are the supporting infrastructures for the people you claim to care about. There's unfathomable arrogance in thinking you can just…"
Max cut him off. "Pot. Kettle. We lived your version. And we helped the survivors recover from it. And within a handful of generations, with most of you gone, they made the best of science fiction into reality. It's not arrogance, Jacob. It's experience. Perspective. When I tell you to let go, 'we got this' - I'm telling you literally - we've got this. Not us by ourselves - but the big 'we' - with everyone else. We're here to help, not control. And we've done it before under worse conditions with fewer resources… Shiny goddamn future - jet packs, cities in sky, self-walking ice cream, whatever - it's all gonna happen again. We're heading in the direction that's best for everyone - but it's not worse for anyone.
"Anyway, you asked - and that's the basic offer and the message to get across to the others. Just…stop all the bullshit. Enjoy the ride. It's not gonna be simple or painless, but that's on all of us to manage. The change that matters is the kind that creates a framework where everyone enjoys the benefits of wealth that we few do now. Period. We need to raise everyone's standard of living to obscenely fucking rich - fast - no one left behind, no one on the bottom, no rungs at all. A life free from worry about basic shit - a life where people feel encouraged and healthy and empowered to be the best them they can possibly be - where the world is back in balance with itself, and nothing is out of their reach."
"Back to your rote university idealisms… It's an economic and social fantasy. The real world, societies, markets are far more nuanced than that. You advocate a re-write of complex global operations, whole economies… but people haven't suddenly evolved. It would guarantee the very chaos you say you're trying to prevent!"
Max threw up an arm, laughing, "…says the principal creators and sellers of global chaos… But yeah. Fuck it. Total reboot - to something better. They'll figure it out, make it work - and they'll make it their own, and way more interesting than we could ever design for them. People aren't part of an equation to factor out, Jacob. They are the equation. We were gonna do this with them over a century. Give everyone a chance to adapt. But if your folks keep up their bullshit, make disruption seem like a good idea, we could push it through in as little as ten years. Still might. Jury's out."
Incredulous, Jacob asked, "And you assume the others wouldn't give a tremendous push back against such a complete disruption? Please, please, don't be this naive - and don't underestimate them, Mrs. Caulfield. I've given them the same warning about you, but don't think they won't react, all the same. Especially when threatened. Don't make the mistake of treating them as though they're trivial to you. You guarantee open conflict when you attack their egos. And you may discover too late they can be more dangerous than you seem to think - amorphous, like water. You can stomp your feet and make a dramatic splash if you like. But if you look more closely, all that happens is that water moves out of your way, and you fall through the space left behind. Once you do, it rushes right back in, surrounding you, growing deeper, drowning you. Understand, you only displace water. You can't hurt it. Can't break it…"
Uh. WTF? Max tilted her head, gave him a half-smile. "First, that's such a terrible metaphor on literally every level. The visuals, the mixed assertions… Go back to the wave one next time, maybe. Okay, I mean, I've seen worlds that were once covered by massive oceans. Where life was abundant. Water worlds. Dead. Desiccated. A planet once covered beneath seas miles deep, dry as a bone. That's the patient business of a star… Eroding, breaking molecules apart, dispersing the remains. Only hydrogen and oxygen, after all. The constituents of water can burn as easily as they drift. See? Bad metaphor. Or, you know, could always just freeze water, then break it? Whatevs. Works against your point is all I'm sayin'. Sorry, but…"
Jacob, baffled, "What are you…talking about? Worlds?"
Max shook her head. Pointed their conversation in its final direction. "Sorry - we're oddly ahead of ourselves. And behind ourselves, I guess. Let's try this - keep it simple - do you have children?"
"Well yes, but you leave them out of…"
Time to reel him out of the water… "And do you care what kind of society they live in? How about your grandchildren? Theirs? Do you care at all what kind of people they grow up to be? You talked about legacy, and then you offered me the United States. I'm turning you down, yes, but I'm also offering all of you the world in return. The solar system. The galaxy. The best of humanity, where everyone rises and thrives. Your children will grow up to be so much more than you are. Free from all this bullshit you have to deal with. Safe from the future you left them. And all you have to do is…stop the bad guy shit. Go golf or whatever."
Max stood up, leaned forward, hands on his desk. "The things you're fighting for, for yourselves - nice stuff, safety, a good happy life - I'm simplifying, but these are the things we want for everyone. We're trying to help the whole world achieve this amazing potential - and I've seen it firsthand, it really is their potential - and you guys are fighting us all the way - why?" She pushed back, leaned into the side wall, gestured with her hands. "Cause you want to work harder? Be shittier people and inflict pain on others? You see where this goes now, right? Is that the life you want for your kids?"
She sped her delivery. "Everything's changed. Time to catch up. You can't claim ignorance, Jacob. Any of you. You each have a choice in what you do next. The terrible grays you play in, the dark you all do - engineering wars, famines, selecting rates of infant mortality and all the other random bullshit that hurts and separates and diminishes people - it has to stop. One way or another.
"Talk to your people. Tell them. And if they decide, in the end, that it's not enough, that they want a war with me, I'm telling you it doesn't matter that you can't win - it won't happen. I won't allow the collateral damage. I'll reconsider options I've taken off the table long before I let anyone else repeat my history."
She slowed again. "I guess, in the end, our only real mission here is to undo the effects of yours, intentional or not. Because we all deserve better than you've given us. And there are more significant threats out there, and much bigger opportunities that we all have to come together for.
"So - when I leave here, we're gonna continue to do our thing. And you're gonna relay my counter-offer to all of your whatevers - cash out. Live the rest of your lives in extreme luxury. Binge Netflix. Don't care. You're already set for generations. And things will only get better for your kids and grandkids from here. Seriously. I'm offering you all a free pass. If you continue to fight me, us, you'll only be getting in your own way. You're not separate from the world we're trying to save, you know?"
His voice revealed an unexpected hint of desperation. "Mrs. Caulfield - please, they already see you as a chaotic threat. It's why they've entertained this unprecedented agreement. But they may not uniformly believe that you're enough of a threat to justify everything you're asking of them. The asking alone may cause a chain reaction - I fear that…"
Nearly there. "It's your job to convince them, Jacob." Max leaned over the back of her chair, hands clasped. "You're the one who represents their interests. My offer is in their best interest. Maybe focus less on the threat, and more on the benefits to them? Or not. Maybe play up the threat. Whatever works. I don't care. You said in another loop that you were taking great pains not to underestimate me. You still do, but it sounds like you believe most of them will too. It's okay - you don't know…you're still trying to relate to me like I'm some kind of exotic talent, so in a way, how could you not? To help you persuade the others, maybe it's time I cast a little light on that…"
Jacob, confused, "What do you mean? What else…" But there was something in his expression, just as he asked it.
Max relaxed. "More." She let the word hang in the air between them. "Jacob, you all need to understand - I'm nothing like anyone you've ever seen. And I'm nothing you can control. I've stood in the pale blue glow of Neptune's rise over the frozen plains of Triton. After flipping Triton itself to a sustainable orbit and a new rotation. I've raced beyond the edges of your observable universe, tens of billions of light years - under my own power. Resurrected life, entire ecosystems, from the ashes of murdered worlds… I can make galaxy-class black holes with my fucking mind, and I've been alive for a very, very long time. And now I'm here, from your distant future, to keep all of you from making the same mistakes that doomed so many along the way. Maybe, just maybe, your people should be the ones to very carefully consider - who are any of you…to me?
"And what's the measure of your offering? Containment? Polite sequestration? Pass. I want world peace. Empowerment and real prosperity for everybody. You included. Why are you guys such dicks about this? You make a point that you're all people too, with families and the rest. You should be on our side, not fighting us. There's still time. But…like I said, I know you probably won't hear me. Not loudly enough. Not yet. I sincerely hope you will. And I hope that when you do, it's not too late." She stopped. Stilled. Left him time to catch up.
Jacob eventually leaned forward. Sadly. "Forgive me, Mrs. Caulfield. I don't have a…I don't know how to respond to any… Although…I agree that we're…at an impasse. I sincerely wish it weren't so. I can see that you obviously, passionately, believe what you say. Although, they may not take everything you say on faith… I believe you mean it…"
Time to throw him back. "Of course I do. We all do. They can verify Triton themselves, by the way. Should be enough for benefit of the doubt on the rest. Believe me when I tell you, they won't appreciate a more intimate demonstration. But none of you have to fight us, Jacob. There's nothing to fight over. Just let go. Let us run with it. Nothing changes for any of you. Work less, maybe. You couldn't spend fast enough to deplete your fortunes before we make them nearly unlimited for everyone anyway. It's a good deal. And…as a closing thought, any among you who choose to retire, or to help, will have our protection from any potential reprisals by the ones who choose to remain." With that, she took a step back.
Jacob considered, troubled. Still seated. " I…you know I, I…can't…"
Boo-yes! Victory. "I know. Not yet. I realize this isn't how you expected this meeting to go. For you, for others, just give them the message, Jacob, that's all. Disband. Shut it down, as non-destructively as practical. Walk away, and we won't fuck with you. Or if you want to help, you're free to help. That's it. That's my entire deal. Pass it on."
Jacob rose. Reached into his pocket, wiped his glasses, slowly, mechanically, with a cloth. "I understand. I don't, but…I do. I'm not convinced they will at all. The conversation among ourselves will take some time. I…honestly don't know what else to say."
"Time for me to go."
"Wait, before you leave…one…forgive me…I wasn't completely forthcoming with Mrs. Price, earlier. She asked. Andersen, Gabriel - they don't work for me, and they've each been a pain to me in different ways. But I've known them for some time… I do care what ultimately happens to them. What will you do?"
Max gave him a short nod. "I'll cut 'em loose. You've given me what we asked of them."
He looked away, turned back. "Thank you. And, Max…Mrs. Caulfield, on a more personal note, I suppose, I…do wish I'd met you when I was younger."
Max smiled. "More impressionable?"
"Less…well defined. You don't mind showing yourself out?"
"Not at all…"
Sophie was conscious enough to realize she was in that dream again. Falling through the flames. Swimming through cold, turbulent waters with dolphins, or maybe porpoises? Something else. Dark shadows somewhere above.
The vibration at her wrist took her out of the moment. The silent voices outside, their thoughts, grew more insistent. Pressed in. She was cooking breakfast in an industrial kitchen. Eating at a desk in another room. She was showering, bright light overhead, hot soap streamed over scarred wrists, past regrets. Aware of other dreams, a man in an angry office, which turned, became a rainy day in an empty field. A woman caught out in the avenue during the annual Running of the Pugs. An old man, asleep in bed, with his arm over another. Unfocused. Waiting in a car outside in the dark, listening to German trip-hop. The buzz intensified. She startled awake.
She was warm in her hotel bed.
Her watch glowed '5am'.
Max was calling her.
Only two hours. Sophie hit 'ignore', fell back into her pillow. Linked.
Morning, Max. Stretched under the covers.
I'm so, so sorry to wake you up, Soph. I know, this has to be the least vacationy vacation ever…
No, it's alright. I could probably do this in my sleep now. See? I'm still funny.
You are. It's the only reason we keep you around. :-) Anyway, I'm back, thought we should bring everyone up to speed. Are you okay? Can you find Chloe real quick?
Of course. And of course. Hello, Chloe. Max, would you like the others now?
Chloe hit pause, Hold off for a sec, Sophie?
Holding.
Oh, hey, Chlo! Where are you, babe? I'm back upstairs.
Hey, Max. Wasn't sure how long you'd be. I'm downstairs, working in the lab. Thought we should talk real quick before the others get on though.
What's up?
Following our rules. I'm annoyed with you, Max Caulfield. Don't wanna let that sit.
Wait, really? What did I do?
I love you to pieces, and you know I trust and respect your judgement, but you're not the only one here, you know? I thought we were gonna get some intel, then talk about things, decide what to do with the rest of our team?
Wait, what? But Chlo, I came back with a cube, told you I was gonna…
That's right. You told me what was gonna happen. You're doing that more, lately.
O…kaaay. Not on purpose? I'm sorry? But…wait, do you disagree with the choice, though?
Telling them to fuck off? Absolutely not. I mean, maybe we could have played along for a while. Drag out negotiations over the finer points while doing more recon. We had a giant 'for the duration of your natural life' loophole with your whole 'Conner McLeod' thing you got goin' on… We didn't even talk about that. But look, I'm okay with the direction, but I'm also annoyed because you cut me, and the rest of our team, out of the decision completely. You assumed, but…even if you're totally right about what we'd say, you didn't give any of us a voice, or chance to feel like we were involved. What's up? I know you've got centuries on the rest of us mere mortals, but…this unilateral thing isn't like you.
Okay, but Chlo, I mean…there's no way we join forces with these people…not after…
Okay, but…this isn't just the Max Caulfield show either… Is it? Is that the message you want to send to the rest of us?
Sophie saw both sides. Max's core absolutes, with their genesis deep inside her secrets from Chloe about the first timeline. Chloe's hidden struggles to keep her head above water, her conflicted feelings about the gifted, artificial origins of what made her special, while trying to be the equal partner of her goddess. They were passing the right words, but not sharing the thoughts and feelings behind them with each other. The sharing that would help them understand. Heal. Grow. Sophie could cut through it for them. It would be so easy. And…a profound violation of their trust. One of the more frustrating aspects of her talent. But…it wasn't her place…
…Okay, Chloe. I mean, I could go back and do it over…
That's not what I mean, Max.
Then I'm confused. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it. I love you, and of course, you're half of this team too, and you're right. I didn't mean to cut anyone out. I just thought the answer was so completely fucking obvious… There's so much going on and I didn't even consider that you'd want to go a different way…or…how it might make you guys feel. :( I guess…guess I'm an asshole. I'm sorry, Chlo.
You're not an asshole, Max. But you have to be more careful with other people is all. Not even about me - I know you - it's everyone else, you know? Optics matter. They need to feel our respect. With your level of power especially, we need to be seen as with them, not…
…over them. Fuck me. I was just lecturing Wallace about exactly the same goddamn thing… :( What should I do? Help?
For now, let's take the middle course? Why don't we say that we both agreed - technically true (after the fact) - and had to make a quick call in the moment (if that moment is right now). But if any of them strongly disagree, we can still talk about it and make the final decision together. Go back and change things if needed. Alright? Soph? Does that seem fair?
Yes…and…so does sharing this talk between you with the others. It's not a failure for either of you to make mistakes, to be human. It makes you more relatable in almost every important way. Perhaps it's also beneficial that the others see how quickly and openly you check each other, to ensure that you both remain grounded and that your behaviors follow the most ethical and correct principals. And as a reminder to them that you're open to their feedback and correction as well. Just an additional thought. I'll follow the lead you set, of course.
Max, chagrined, Dammit. I'm sorry you had to be here for this, Soph. But…I'm glad too. And you're right. I'll…fall on my sword with the crew. It was my bad. Sorry, Chlo.
It's okay, Max, thought Chloe. I was annoyed, not pissed. Had to say something though.
Sophie, gently to both, Your willingness to be wrong is a part of what keeps us right.
Yeah. I don't know how, Sophie, but sometimes you're wise beyond even my years. Let's go ahead and grab the others, give them the download real quick? Then we can let you get back to sleep?
Sophie connected the rest of the leadership team. As they all caught up, she drifted. Decided she'd speak to Max and Chloe individually when she returned. If she couldn't break down the walls between them, she might at least make each of them aware of their own. And remind that they should consider sharing with the other.
Best she could do.
Juliet closed the metal gate, leaned into the corner by the door. Texted Alex.
JW:: I'm out front.
AR:: Jules? wth? It's almost 1am? nvm Give me a minute. Grandma's sleep - shh
JW:: Cool. Sorry. Thx.
The door below the main stair of the brownstone opened with a halting creek. Dark inside. Alex peeked her head out through the opening, bleary-eyed, whispered, "Where you been all week? And what are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, I just got back from Vegas. Working on a thing for my internship. Look, I need your help with something, but I didn't want to talk about it over the phone."
"And it couldn't wait 'til class? Or, you know, like, daylight?"
"I know. I'm sorry. It might be nothing, but it's probably better if we keep this between us. And I'm in a hurry. I know, that's shitty."
"What did you get yourself into now?"
"I'm not sure. Help me find out."
"Okay. Vaguely intrigued by the vague. Come on. Leave shoes and bags by the door."
Juliet followed behind Alex in the dark, hand on her PJ hood for guidance.
Alex led her into her room, closed her door behind them, turned on a lamp before rolling up a towel to block the gap underneath. In hushed tones, "Tell me. What are you into, Watson?"
"I was working on a story for the Journal. And a source inside this company gave me a thumb drive. I can't get in. He said it was time-encrypted or something."
"Got it with you?"
"Yeah. Here." Juliet reached into the change pocket of her jeans. Handed over the drive.
Alex held it up to the light. "Okay, nothing special lookin' about it." Opened up her notebook, plugged the drive into an adapter. "Let's see. Not mounting. Huh. Okay. It's acting like there's nothing…oh wait. There it goes. Took a sec to read." She opened up a drive utility. "So the hardware shows up, but it's like there's nothing else there. No partitions, no data, so, no drive."
Juliet leaned forward. "He said there was a time lock. How would something like that work?"
"There's lotsa ways. Hardware prolly, since I don't see any code here that could run anything. I'll have to get into the case to know for sure. Might get something off the chips if it's not filed off or all resin. Clock is an exploit vector for sure, once I know how it checks. But…" She opened a terminal window, loaded a utility library. "Shit. Thought maybe it was an OS thing, but it's not showing any kind of low-level volumes. Is this even a drive? Might be wiped - did you X-ray it at the airport? Or maybe he gave you the wrong one or somethin'?"
"No, and I don't think my source would make a mistake like that."
"It doesn't look like there's anything here. Weird. Sorry. Where were you? Help if I knew. That and some idea of what you expect to find on here? What kinds of files or whatever?"
"Like I said, I was in Vegas. I was after a friendly interview with an old acquaintance. Max Caulfield, but…"
"Wait…shut up. Max Caulfield like as in uber-genius Chloe Price's Max Caulfield? Damn. I didn't know you knew anybody sorta famous. She really from outer space?"
Juliet laughed, "Funny. Anyway, it was just an interview, but my bosses stuck me with a babysitter, Elliot, who does all these corporate stories overseas. The whole thing kinda went a different direction once he got involved. Anyway, this other guy who works there handed me the drive before we left. Said it was important. I don't know what's on it. But I need to find out."
"You could always wait for whatever timer he put on it. Did he say when?"
"No. But I can't wait anyway. The last couple of days, it's like something is going on at the paper. I think. I don't know. I sent in copies of my notes and the audio and parts of the drafts Elliot and I have been trading back and forth, but I haven't heard back from my editor. I'm probably being paranoid, but I feel like I'm being edged out of my own story. Without me, they wouldn't have gotten in the door, but… I'm going down there tomorrow, but…maybe if we can find something new or good on here, I'll have a way to make sure they can't cut my byline completely?"
"That sucks. And don't take this the wrong way dude, but you are just a lowly intern…"
"Think you can help?"
"Yeah, but if we're talking real MCCP tech, I'm not getting in with this shitty notebook. There's a dude owes me a favor, might be able to get early morning access to some tools to open it up, and one of the nodes in the CT labs. If that's okay? You don't mind leaving it with me?"
"No, it's okay, thanks. I owe you. But the fewer people who know about it, the better? 'Til we know what's on here at least."
"I got ya. You should go. Get sleep. See what I can do."