The Beam: Season Three

by Sean Platt

  Micah took another slow sip, still feeling his ace. Alexa may have been a mover and shaker on the early Beam and Crossbrace, but Ryan Enterprises had preceded even that. Given the animosities and reasons for their partnership, he felt sure Rachel hadn’t shared with her adversary. Alexa liked to pretend that she’d sought Micah from a position of power, but in his memory, she’d come on bent knees. Whatever group she and Rachel were part of, Rachel spoke as if Alexa was its standing joke.

  Micah took yet another sip, working the silence between them. She was his superior in every conceivable way, but she’d come to him with a need. She’d given him Kai as a gesture, but also because of that need — and Kai herself, he sometimes thought, was involved in all of this obliquely if not directly. Alexa was big, yes. But to Micah, she was also transparent.

  There didn’t need to be any animosity between them. Micah didn’t want any. But Alexa needed to know her place.

  “Yes,” he said, answering her earlier question. “I remember when we met.”

  “Do you remember our first discussion? The first real one, once we were sure we wouldn’t be overheard?”

  Micah remembered it plenty. He’d even taken an illicit video recording using his then-beta Xenia ocular implant, in case he needed it for leverage later. But Alexa had been knocked down enough already, and he respected her. Business admired business, and Alexa had schemed her way to an empire. Everyone knew O was her company. She led. The others in the Six blustered and ultimately rubber-stamped whatever Alexa wanted. It was impressive.

  “We agreed on a course of mutual benefit.”

  “And?”

  Micah resisted an urge to roll his eyes. She wanted him to say it so she could wash her hands before getting to business. Again: fine. He could bend.

  “You said you were being stonewalled by my mother. Not coincidentally, so was I.”

  Alexa nodded, apparently still waiting.

  “You wanted to undermine her,” Micah went on. “And I wanted to move up.”

  “You wanted to kill her,” Alexa said.

  “I wasn’t the only one.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Officially, I guess you couldn’t,” Micah said. “What is it you’re part of with her, Alexa? Some sort of a cult?”

  “Nothing I can talk about. But something that does demand certain…rules.”

  “Rules that are enforceable in ways you can’t easily get around,” Micah said, voicing something he’d been mulling for many months. Because that had bothered him a bit: the way Alexa had let Kai leave O and go to Micah. He’d got to know Kai well and could tell what an asset she must have been for Alexa. She wouldn’t have let Kai go if she didn’t need Micah more than she was willing to admit. Somehow, Alexa’s hands were bound. She’d called this meeting, but Micah hadn’t hesitated to accept.

  “Maybe,” Alexa said.

  “So even though you want her dead,” Micah said, keeping his voice neutral, “you can’t just have her killed. Because someone would know.”

  “Not quite.”

  But: Yes, quite. That was exactly what was happening here. They were in some sort of a cabal, and Alexa couldn’t move against Rachel. Maybe Rachel couldn’t move against Alexa, either. They were at detente, locked into some sort of loathing, reluctant mutual respect. Micah was meant to be the tiebreaker, if Alexa could find a way.

  “Okay. So why am I here?” Micah said.

  “I wanted to check up on Kai.”

  “You could have done that with a call. Or, ideally, asked Kai to come here tonight, too.”

  “I meant, I wanted to check on how Kai was doing for you.”

  “Which could have been done with a call.”

  Alexa nodded slowly. He sensed a truth near exposure, a set of pretenses about to be dropped. Surprising him, Alexa said, “Micah, do you believe in God?”

  “The church’s god?”

  “Any God.”

  Micah kept the surprise from his face. “I’m reserving judgment. Why?”

  “Everyone knows I’m an anthroposophist. I’ve even turned it into a branding angle. O’s immersions have grown increasingly realistic — but not just realistic; deep, too. Like, psyche-deep. I know a lot of companies — especially unofficially — have been creating better and better sense simulation with neural downtuning, but O’s immersions are different. Like I was saying about the girl who bit my client. They reach deep down and determine not just what someone wants, but what they may not even know they want.”

  “And this makes you believe in God?” Micah laughed. “Maybe I really should book a session at one of your spas.”

  “There are some interesting parallels between what we do and what a company like Xenia does. You’ve heard of Project Mindbender?”

  “The official version?”

  “Noah West’s version.”

  “Sure. I’m on Xenia’s board.”

  “And how is Mindbender going?”

  Micah thought about holding back, but Alexa would have access to more than he did if she orbited Rachel Ryan’s upper echelon.

  “Slow,” he said.

  “Why?”

  Philosophy, he almost answered. But he didn’t want to give Alexa more embarrassing rope to hang herself.

  “Turns out, a mind isn’t as portable as we’d thought. Or as West thought.”

  “Innovation at Xenia is driven some by the market, some by curiosity,” Alexa said. “At O, it’s all market need. People want to get off in new ways, so we make that happen. But the delving that algorithms like Chloe do? It’s almost scary. There’s a story here at O about an immersion gone too long, and the subject drifted off into space — not headspace; literal space. We asked her to submit to her deepest desires. She was adept, and it went deep enough that it creeped out the techs. She started thinking of the universe.”

  “Hot,” Micah said. “Who was it?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Point is, we’re exploring, too. Just like Xenia. And sometimes, we see things.”

  Micah heard the change in Alexa’s voice. He sat forward.

  “What did you ‘see’?”

  “Something that puts me at odds with Rachel. Something that, the more I try and explain the need to go in one direction, she pushes in the opposite.”

  “Maybe she just disagrees with you.” And she would, if you’re blathering on about sex testing leading to visions of God.

  When Alexa didn’t reply, Micah said, “Explain it to me. Maybe I can reason with her.”

  Alexa laughed.

  “I’m serious. What is it between you?”

  Alexa’s eyes met Micah’s. Despite the almost pitying feeling of superiority he’d had seconds earlier, Micah felt a chill in his blood. Maybe he’d been in charge for most of this meeting. Maybe she’d knelt before him years ago, when they’d first opened their covert discussions behind Rachel’s back. And maybe Alexa really was a superstitious fool, like everyone seemed to believe and his mother always scathingly implied. But right now, Micah could see every iota of the industry giant the woman was under the skin. She’d clawed her way to the top and hadn’t been afraid to slash and burn on her way. Seeing the real Alexa now stopped his lips.

  “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

  “Of course,” Micah said.

  “It’s above your head. Nothing you’re permitted to worry about.”

  “Sure. I didn’t mean — ”

  “I’m not an idiot, Micah. And I won’t pretend you’re one, either. We both know there’s something else, above Beau Monde. Something I won’t discuss, but that you’re not fool enough to believe doesn’t exist. By the book, if there was a book, there isn’t supposed to be a line of succession, but of course there is. You’re with me because you want in, and I’m your insider in the meantime. I’m in this because I know that even if I get Rachel out of the way, you will become an insider. You help me, and it gets you what you want. I help you, and I gain an ally, but also maybe a new obstacle. So i
t’s very important that you don’t bullshit me. It’s very important that you play along, so that everyone can win.”

  He’d always respected Alexa on one level, but now he reluctantly had to respect her on another. Micah nodded.

  “You don’t have to believe me. You only have to trust me.”

  “Okay,” he said, unsure.

  “I know what I’m doing. Honest.”

  Micah looked around the room. He thought of Alexa’s cult status, wacky or not. He thought of O and how she held the reins of a group that was supposed to be governed equally by six — from, if you believed the deep Beam rumors, beyond the grave.

  “Okay,” he said. “I trust you.”

  Chapter Five

  “He’s on Panel, isn’t he?” Micah asked.

  Alexa, merely a voice in Micah’s ear as he paced his office, seemed to breathe a bit differently. Micah took it as a yes. He wasn’t even supposed to know the word “Panel,” but he’d had years to work on Alexa and learn her rhythms. He could use his add-ons to assess her if she’d still meet him in person, but she seemed to have figured out that distance was the best protection from Micah’s sharp sense of insight.

  “I can’t say,” Alexa said.

  But of course he was on Panel. Craig Braemon had gone to Flat 4 for currency fraud during the credit switchover and had nearly gone to prison again for Shift tampering in 2091. In both cases, he’d managed to wiggle away with what was essentially a slap on the wrist, and in both cases he’d been far more successful at his criminal endeavors than should have been possible. It didn’t matter that he’d been caught and that Shift (as far as Micah knew) hadn’t actually been affected in ’91. For men like Craig Braemon, there were always below-the-surface benefits that must have been quite successful indeed.

  “Never mind. I’ll be there. I’m going to the fundraiser. I have to go, just because I’m Capital Protection and Enterprise’s face man. My question is, what’s in it for Braemon?”

  “Why does there have to be something in it for him? It’s an Enterprise event once you peel back the skin. What benefits Enterprise PR benefits all of us.”

  “Enterprise doesn’t need more PR. Braemon certainly doesn’t need PR. I don’t know him at all, but if he’s Panel — ”

  “He’s not Panel.”

  “What about Aiden Purcell? He seems like Panel.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “But there is a Panel. We’ve established that.”

  “Stop it, Micah. Remember, we’re in this together.”

  “I’m just saying that if everyone wants me there, I’d like to know what I’m in for.”

  “I told you. It’s PR. Attention-grabbing, hearts-and-minds-redirecting PR. Just like your sister-in-law’s fuck-you concert. Enterprise is going to lose Shift, which wouldn’t be a big deal if it hadn’t looked like they might win for a while with the beem currency rollout. They’ll need to pull back on attempting to ratify beem now, of course, but it can’t wait until 2105. It’ll be a midterm initiative.”

  “You’re going to push beem ratification with a Directorate majority in the Senate?”

  “It can’t wait until 2105,” Alexa repeated, as if quoting a mantra.

  “Why not?”

  Alexa ignored him, now chattering in his ear. “Most of this won’t concern you, but in six months, maybe a year, we’ll need a push to sell Directorate senators on network-based experimental commerce. Ratifying beem money will be part of that, and the rest can unfold after, as the media expects. And if that’s going to happen, Enterprise’s image has to start improving now. Losing a Shift Enterprise was expected to lose wouldn’t be a big deal, but since it looked like we might win, that same loss will now be an embarrassment.”

  “Are you worried that people are chattering about Mindbender?”

  “Vale’s version, you mean?”

  “Of course.”

  “Six months or so should be plenty to make that all seem foolish.”

  “How? Everyone loves Vale. Even if the project is still stalled in six months, that’s hardly unexpected.”

  “Vale will be handled. Mindbender’s reputation will follow.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Not for your ears. You need to worry about Enterprise.”

  “And Braemon’s event,” Micah said, wishing Alexa would stop bullshitting and just tell him the whole truth.

  “The event is only being held by Braemon. You and I might know what’s really going on, but it would be a mistake, if PR is the name of the game, to forget the stated purpose of the fundraiser. Nobody you know will ever face Respero, but even if you were sent yourself, you’ll get the finest Respero Dinner beforehand that money could buy. The people below the line aren’t that lucky. The whole reason Respero is effective as euthanasia — especially when we’re talking mandated euthanasia — is because it’s ritualized. People accept it, at least in concept, as a kind of graduation. But think about it: How effective will the ritual of a ‘fancy graduation Dinner’ be when the poor slobs who are its most common victims can’t afford the whitewash?”

  “Maybe they could have afforded their pleasant deaths if they’d been Directorate,” said Micah, unable to help himself.

  “Very funny.”

  “Oh, lighten up, Alexa. I’m old enough to remember out-and-out state murder, so you sure as hell are. Who gives a shit if people see through the farce of Respero? What the state says goes, no matter whether people like it or not. If all else fails, the NAU can just go back to lethal injections and electric chairs.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Alexa muttered.

  “And Respero isn’t?”

  “Don’t pretend, Micah. You’re smart enough to know there are things you don’t know, so don’t presume that anyone has told you what those things you shouldn’t know are.”

  “I’m so confused,” Micah said, rolling his eyes.

  “When you move up, you’ll understand.”

  “How about this for a proposal, Alexa? If you want me to do your bidding correctly, help me understand now.”

  Alexa seemed to sigh and reset. “This isn’t just about Enterprise or Braemon or you or me. It’s important that Respero itself comes out looking better after this event. Ironically, calling it a ‘Respero benefit’ isn’t far off the mark at all since the idea is to benefit Respero.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we need Respero to be accepted and hence effective. As a tool.”

  “If the state wants people dead, it should just call a spade a spade. At least look people in the eye and call it capital punishment.”

  “This is about control, Micah.”

  “Capital punishment is about control.”

  “Capital punishment is about punishment,” Alexa corrected.

  “You’re splitting hairs.”

  “I’m not. The subtleties of Respero matter as much as the subtleties of the perceived power balance between the parties, and that’s not even counting personal interests.”

  “What personal interests?” Murder, he thought. She must be talking about Panel or other high-ups ridding themselves of enemies through the Respero system.

  “You don’t have to see the whole picture. You only have to trust that those above you do, and that you will in time.”

  “Noah Fucking West,” Micah muttered. It was an endless shell game. Dick measuring with lives in the balance.

  “There are Directorate elements who’ve begun to come out against Respero,” Alexa said. “We’ve kept them quiet, but Vale, as a wild card, changes things in the short term. It’s important that as many as possible of those who are sent to Respero publicly go willingly. We want them sending out invitations and getting excited. We want them to dress up for the occasion and gather family and friends. We want those middle-of-the-road folks to see Respero as a choice above them, which in turn gives nodding consent to the will of the state.”

  “I see. Is that what happened with Violet James?”

  �
��Violet James is exactly why this matters, Micah,” Alexa snapped, as if he should know better. “With the anniversary of her Respero decision coming up, a lot of eyes on both sides of the fence are turning to the case as a precedent setter. There’s always been chatter about James’s condition and the way her decision came down, and now that chatter is all back, all these years later. Would she have come out of it? Would she have lived? Violet is the perfect idol for both the pro and con arguments — and which side she ends up posthumously working for depends on the spin doctoring. Positioned right, her case is perfect for the pro camp because she was medical — true euthanasia, to ease her suffering. But do you remember all the hubbub about James’s parents and the transcripts uncovered from the hospital board? She was too expensive, they said. So everyone got their damned noses into the case. By the time they gave her a Dinner and switched her off, she’d become a poster child. Everyone had an opinion. And now, of course, today, a lot of those old opinions are coming back. Noah Fucking West, Micah — I can’t watch feeds for a half hour anymore without some asshole dredging up her pictures, playing her sad story with dramatic music.”

  “Fine,” Micah said, becoming bored. The idea of naming the damned event after Violet James felt like a transparent PR move to Micah, meant to bolster the pro-Respero (and mostly Enterprise) case. It stunk of pandering, really. Micah couldn’t believe everyone didn’t see right through the posturing, but the masses on The Beam were eating it up, going so far as to praise Craig Braemon for selflessly holding the event he wasn’t really in charge of, benefitting a bullshit charity meant to prop up a an elite class’s ulterior motives.

  “Fine what?” Alexa demanded.

  “I said fine,” Micah repeated. He’d be damned if he’d stand up tall and recite his lessons like a good boy just so she could pat him on the head.

  There was silence on the line as Alexa paused, probably trying to decide if Micah would toe the line or become a wrench in the works. Finally, Micah took mercy on her, declared himself a partial victor, and shifted the conversational baton back into his own court where it belonged