“Thanks, Masaru,” I said, “I’ll see you around.”
“Of course,” he smiled.
Masaru and Akira started for the exit. Akira and I exchanged glances. I gave her another nod and went into my contacts using my bionic eye. I found Akira’s name right at the top and sent an invite to her. She accepted, now able to silently listen in on the meeting through my tech.
The only bugs you didn’t account for were the ones we’re all wearing voluntarily, I said to her silently.
Sachi is transmitting as well, Akira said silently, but I don’t know who is receiving.
I see.
“Remember,” Sachi called after them, “the offer still stands to come back.” She turned back to the group. “Now, where were we? Right.” She looked to me. “Eshe has laid the groundwork for what I want to do.”
“And what’s that?” Riviera asked, shifting weight to her other leg.
“The dissolution of the CSA government, of course,” Sachi said, a hint of glee in her voice, “like I said, I want to spread the glorious LoC revolution beyond Colorado.”
“You have a well-armed militia,” Riviera said, “and the CSA is experiencing some domestic turmoil, but their military would still fuck you up.”
Sachi chuckled, “I plan to be a little subtler than waging open war on them. But I’d like to use their current shit-storm to sow the seeds of dissent.”
“We’re backing a candidate,” I said.
Sachi looked to me, “You are? Who?”
“Tory Goodwin. The other person we freed in Wichita.”
“He’s never going to win,” Sachi said.
“No,” I said, “but right now Director Mitchell controls the conversation in the CSA. Despite the protests going on in the CSA right now, Mitchell himself enjoys enormous popular support.
“You’re hoping to change the conversation,” Sachi said.
“Yes,” I said, “force Mitchell to answer inconvenient questions on the debate stage.”
“How is going to run a campaign big enough to get in the debates?” Sachi asked.
“The woman backing Goodwin has a lot of money,” I said.
“Who is this woman?” Savita demanded.
“Her name is Kali Sanyai,” I said, “Indian woman who seems to have money to throw around.”
“Is she trustworthy?” Savita asked, narrowing her lifeless eyes at me.
“I don’t believe she has a reason to lie about this,” I said, “although I suspect she’s not telling me the whole truth.”
“What’s her interest in all this?” Savita asked.
“She wants to disrupt GPFTA negotiations,” I said.
“Yes,” Sachi nodded, “Carlito’s mentioned this trade deal. Stands to be quite lucrative for corporations like Benecorp.”
“Kali’s more worried about Sovereign,” I said.
“Right, Sovereign,” Sachi said, “does…does Laura still hold a grudge?”
I was momentarily taken aback by Sachi’s genuine concern for Laura. “Yeah.”
Sachi nodded, but said nothing.
“Enduracorp’s successfully convinced Brazil to back out of the GPFTA,” I said, “
“Capitalists gossiping about other capitalists,” a sarcastic voice said, “and I was worried I might be missing something interesting.”
We all turned, seeing Saw-Jaw strolling back into the lobby, AK47 grasped in his lazily swinging hand.
“Do you have somethin’ to add?” Riviera asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said, “just that Benecorp and Sovereign are horse trading nations with each other. Benecorp wants the Pacific, Sovereign wants Europe and the Middle East. It’s become a regular Sykes-Picot now that these assholes-”
“The Pacific,” I said, looking to Sachi, “Imelda…”
“Imelda,” Sachi shook her head, “there must be some other long game going on there.”
“What are you talking about?” Saw-Jaw asked.
“Nevermind,” Sachi said.
“This is all very interesting,” Riviera said, “but what are you actually planning to do?”
Sachi smiled, “we’re going to finish the job all of you started in delegitimizing the CSA government.”
“To do what?” Riviera asked.
“Spread anarchy,” Sachi said, “isn’t that what you want?”
Saw-Jaw scoffed, “I’m sure that’ll greatly increase LoC Security’s profits.”
“Do you want me to believe that you’re an anarchist?” Riviera asked, “is that what you were doing back in Florida?”
Sachi looked to me and then back to Rosy, “Of course…Riviera. Like Marcy,” she laughed, “I can’t say I have a special place in my heart for anarchy, no. But I find the CSA almost as loathsome as Benecorp, so…I’m thinking a two-pronged approach.” She looked to me. “We’ll run your stooge Goodwin to attack from the top down. I’m looking to rally contacts I have in the area to work at it from the bottom up.”
Sachi just expertly dodged Rosy’s question…
“What contacts are you talking about?” I asked.
“They’re veterans,” Markus broke in, “people I knew from my time in the military.”
“You mean the ones whose careers were trashed when they didn’t join you in defecting?” I asked.
“They’ve since seen the light,” Sachi said, “We’ve had them become part of the demonstrations that arose from your leaks. Sort of sleeper cells, if you will.”
“You plan on keeping the unrest going,” I said.
“I plan to make sure the CSA government takes it in the ass at every turn,” Sachi said.
“Why were you sending aid to the DRC?” Riviera asked.
Everyone looked to her, quiet. There was a hint of annoyance on Sachi’s face, but she quickly replaced it with a forced smile.
“There are people in central Africa who need to be able to defend themselves,” Sachi said, “Eshe’s people. I’m simply supplying them a means to do so.”
“The media calls them a violent guerrilla group,” Riviera said.
“The media is full of shit,” Sachi said, “And they didn’t start the violence. They’ve lived under one oppressive puppet regime after another. Eshe can tell you what they-”
“And that justifies public executions of government officials?” Riviera asked.
“The fact that they’re government officials does,” Saw-Jaw muttered.
“If you knew what they’ve been through you wouldn’t grudge them a few theatrics,” Sachi said, the slight annoyance coming back into her tone.
A small grin passed over Colonel Riviera’s lips, knowing she was able to get under Sachi’s amiable deportment, “I look forward to reading about what you’ve done there during our inspection of your compound.”
Sachi shrugged, forcing a smile, “You’ll be happy to find that we’re spreading the cause of liberty across the pond. We have nothing to hide.”
I sighed, “So we’re agreed on a mission into the CSA?”
“We can tag along for a bit,” Sachi said, “we’ll be meeting with our contacts and setting up our network.”
“We’ve been hired to go as protection for Goodwin,” Riviera said, glancing at me, “I have agents going along with him. While you’re out of town, I think I’ll head up an inspection of your facilities.”
“Feel free,” Sachi said.
“I’ll be expecting you to bring Landon to our Denver headquarters,” Riviera said, “but for now I have to get back.”
“I’ll send her along as soon as I get back,” Sachi said.
The three LoC Security officers walked out of the lobby. Colonel Riviera had a satisfied look on her face, feeling like she had gotten the upper hand in the interaction. Savita watched intently as Major Ross walked out, turning back with a scarcely concealed smile on her face, only to quickly lose the warmth again when she spotted me watching her.
“I guess the little capitalists have figured out which big capitalists they’re g
oing after,” Saw-Jaw said as he strode toward the exit, “I’m disappointed. Was hoping your people weren’t just like everyone else in this wretched pit of greedy snakes.” He walked out the door.
I looked back to Sachi, “Rosy’s not going to see anything at your compound that you don’t want her to find, is she?”
Sachi grinned, “Rosy…she’s your niece, isn’t she?”
“From my past life, yes,” I said.
“Interesting,” Sachi nodded, “strange fucking times we live in when so many people know about our condition.”
“She was more nervous than she let on,” Savita said, her face once again stern enough to match the steel-gray bionic eyes.
“I like her,” Sachi said, “I look forward to working with her.” She looked to me. “Does she know about your little blackmail gamble you’re going to pull?”
“I…no.”
Sachi smiled.
“We should be getting back soon,” Markus said.
“Yes,” Sachi said, still looking at me, “we should talk again soon sometime. Just the two of us.”
“Of course,” I said, “we’ll find time.”
The three of them left me alone in the lobby.
“You get all that?” I asked.
“Yes,” Akira said, her voice somewhat distorted from the silent talking translator, “Sachi’s still hiding something.”
“She is,” I said, counting things off on my fingers, “Africa. Her contacts in the CSA. Carlito. Transmitting the whole meeting. What exactly she thinks she’ll gain for taking down the CSA. This all just feels like more of the same.”
“What do you think Rosy’s inspection will turn up?” Akira asked.
“Probably exactly what Sachi wants her to,” I said.
“You think she’s still interested in taking over the LoC?” Akira asked.
“I’ve never been more sure of it,” I said.
After getting back home I went upstairs to shower and go to bed. I stripped down naked in the bathroom, studying my battered body in the mirror. My chest still hurt, although my ribs had mostly healed. The acid-burned skin on my shoulder and hand were scarred and red but recovering. There was still soreness in my hand from the damaged nerves, but when I moved the fingers, I could feel them regaining their dexterity. The shrapnel hole in my stomach was beginning to look just like all of the other myriad scars pocking my skin.
After the shower I sat down on the bed and picked up the sitar, strumming the fingers of my right hand over it slowly, wanting to test their agility. It took ten minutes for my fingers to get used to the movements again, but the pain seemed to melt away once the music took hold. Even my exhaustion dissipated for a time, allowing me to continue improvising.
I looked at the abstract artworks that Laura had left in my room as I played. An asymmetrical one was laid out on the floor, freshly completed before we took off for Wichita. The music I had been playing that day as she worked on it started coming off my sitar, almost as if my hands had a mind of their own. And for a moment a feeling of synesthesia overtook me and I could see the music dancing through the strange fractal of helices and interlocking loops.
I entered a state of flow, losing track of time until startled out of my trance, my fingers slipping off the strings when I saw Aveena standing in the doorway watching me play. She started clapping.
“That was awesome!” Aveena said.
“Th-thanks,” I smiled.
“I thought you’d never stop!” she smiled back.
I looked to the clock. It had been almost three hours since I got home.
“I didn’t realize I was playing that long,” I said.
“You were totally in the zone,” she said, “I came over to, like, work on fixing up the lab you and Laura destroyed, you know? I was like gonna ask if you wanna help. Then I heard you playing. I stood and watched for like ten minutes and you didn’t even notice!”
I gave her a crooked grin, “you can disguise exhaustion, but only sleep will cure it.”
“I guess so!” she said, turning to leave, “I’ll let you sleep then. See you around, Eshe!”
I exhaled, setting the sitar down by the side of the bed before laying back into the pillow. I was asleep almost immediately, but the images of my hallucination returned with renewed vibrancy, making it a restless sleep.
Chapter 37
The laughter quieted as I walked in. Rocky, Markus, Savita, and two faces I didn’t recognize sat in the St. Louis hotel room, all of them looking to me as the debugger’s air jets blew over me. Even Savita continued smiling as I stepped in, all of them appearing to be in a good mood.
“It’s about fucking time you accepted my invitation,” Sachi said from where she sat at the foot of a bed.
“It’s been hard to get away,” I said, watching her get up and go to the night stand, grabbing a protein bar from the drawer for me, “Apparently I’m Tory Goodwin’s personal servant as much as I am his ‘adviser’.”
I probably shouldn’t have even come here…I might’ve been seen.
Getting to Missouri had been easier than I thought, given its status as a de facto part of the CSA. My face was once again altered, along with a new fake RFID, but I’d expected more trouble. Especially given that we were openly bringing Tory Goodwin, who only six weeks earlier was detained as a political prisoner, back into the country. His detention had been unlawful, and he even received an apology from Director Mitchell’s press secretary, claiming it was rogue agents in Kansas. That didn’t stop Mitchell from lobbing accusations of the Goodwin campaign colluding with terrorists.
It only recently became evident to me that our safe passage within the CSA was, in no small part, due to bribes that had been paid by an anonymous benefactor. That benefactor, I soon guessed, was Kali. My investigation pointed to the Indian ambassador to the CSA. The ambassador was the brother of Kali’s newest boyfriend.
She seems to have planned out her corrupting influence quite skillfully. Makes it feel even more like I’m being played like a fiddle by her.
I wasn’t going to complain about the corruption when it was working in my favor. What made me nervous were Sachi’s people piggybacking on our entrance into the CSA. Corruption in the regional government’s security bureaucracy would only get us so far.
“You look like shit, dude,” Rocky said as I took the protein bar from Sachi, suddenly realizing how hungry I was, “he ain’t doing anything like…sexual to you, is he?”
The rest of them laughed. I undid the necktie and slipped it off, bunching it up. Sachi smiled, sitting back down and signaling for me to sit beside her. I hesitantly obliged.
I couldn’t help but watch Savita as she sat at the small round table near the window, seeing the same good-natured demeanor that I remembered from the first time I met her. She wasn’t in business mode anymore, allowing her to have a good time.
If there weren’t so many people here, my presence would probably anger her.
Even her eyes looked less menacing. It took me a moment to realize that the gray iris had been changed to a brilliant green, which contrasted with her dark brown skin, but added life to her gaze.
Rocky, who stood leaning against the wall, seemed just as much in his element joking with friends as he did in combat. That wasn’t surprising to me. What was surprising, though, was seeing Markus laugh along with them, sitting next to Savita, his stoic exterior somewhat lowered, yet still on guard.
The other two people, who’s fake ID’s had them named Pedro and Manny, sat on the other side of the table. Pedro, the taller and lighter skinned of the two, had shaggy hair tumbling out of his ragged stocking cap and a full beard over his narrow face. A tattoo of the chemical structure for dimethyltryptamine, a powerful hallucinogen, shown on his forearm near the inside of his right elbow.
Manny, who was shorter, stockier, and darker skinned, was clean shaven, hair slicked back. His wide face appeared to have a permanent grin plastered to it, exposing a gold upper lateral incisor on the r
ight side. I could see the edges of tattoos poking out at the wrists and neck of his tight turtleneck shirt.
“Hey man, someone around here gotta be getting some,” Pedro joked, “bitches in this fucking place is too tight-legged,” making everyone erupt into laughter again as I unwrapped the protein bar, taking a hungry bite from it.
“Just cuz no chick in her right mind would touch your needle dick doesn’t mean we’re all striking out,” Manny said, “your ayahuasca filled loads would probably get a bitch high, anyway.” He looked to Savita. “I mean, don’t that count as rape?”
“Since when does jerking off in the shower count as ’getting some?’” Savita said to Manny, “stop plugging up the goddamn drain with your tear-soaked splooge, you sad sack of shit.”
“Only reason I cry while I jerk off is cuz I can’t stop thinking about sticking it in your tight little pooper,” Manny responded, biting his lower lip as he pantomimed spanking.
“No wonder I can’t feel anything,” she said, “I saw your baby dick the day I dragged you out of that cartel bombing wreckage. It looked like a single little bird’s egg nestled in the middle of a big, tangled nest of nappy ass pubes.”
The laughter erupted uproariously. I cracked a smile as I chewed, but still felt sleepy. Being Goodwin’s assistant, along with restless sleep, was wearing down on me.
“At least we all know Rocky is getting laid on the regular,” Sachi said.
“Goddamn right I am,” he said.
“Half our fucking budget goes to your hookers,” Sachi said.
“That girl was not a hooker,” Rocky said, walking toward Sachi, pointing a finger, “She was a standup gal. She wanted to be a dancer.”
“A pole dancer,” Sachi said, “tell Eshe about your standup girl,” she looked to me, smirking.
“She had one of those big, juicy Latin asses,” Rocky said, “thick lips and big, round tits just begging for me to free them like a couple of forced laborers.”
“No, you meathead,” Sachi laughed, “Tell him what happened with her.”
He grinned, “ah yes. Come, my friend, as I tell you the tale of a sexy Latin chica and the slippery Brazilian Policia Federal agent,” he looked to me as I stuck the last of the protein bar in my mouth.
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