by F X Holden
Small personal errand? AJ thought to himself. Small enough that his personal ‘adviser’ calls out of nowhere to ask me to rob one of the residents…
AJ went with his plan A for this scenario. “Sorry,” AJ said. “That’s just not something I’d be comfortable with.”
McMaster paused. “AJ, I told the Congressman you were a smart person. I told him it was worth giving you a call. He said when you call AJ, just let him know, this can go two ways. The quick and clean way, or the messy way. You help us out, we can fix it quick and clean,” McMaster said, his voice dead and even.
AJ heard Leon in his head, OK, mano, so much for offering you a carrot, that was all stick. Was it a threat though? Of course it was. Completely ambiguous but totally and unmistakably a threat. AJ assumed the call was being recorded, and if he said yes, they’d have evidence he had agreed to commit a crime. He’d anticipated that in his risk scenarios too.
“Hey,” AJ said. “Look. I want to help. But with respect, you are crazy if you think I’m going to talk about something like this over a public comms line.”
There was silence at the other end for a minute. Long enough that AJ began wondering if the line had been cut. “You been talking with your friend Leon, AJ?” McMaster asked. “Yeah. I can hear you have.”
The fact he knew Leon’s name freaked AJ, just a little. The guy left a beat for AJ to really feel it. “Can I give you some free advice?” McMaster continued. “You need to be careful how you choose your friends. How much do you know about Leon, AJ?”
“I know enough,” AJ said.
“Sure, sure you do,” McMaster said. “Like, you know he was given a discharge from the forces?”
“Yeah,” AJ said, getting angry now. “A medical discharge. He has PCPD.”
McMaster laughed, “Post Combat Psych Disorder? That’s what he’s telling people?”
AJ didn’t need to say anything, McMaster was happy to do the talking.
“Leon, yeah. Now I get it. He was the guy in the Capitol, with you? Right? You’re in this with Leon? Oh, AJ.”
AJ looked at the comms, thinking maybe he should just cut the call.
“OK, look. I told the Congressman, that AJ, he’s a smart guy. He’ll do the right thing. I still believe that. I’m going to get on a drone and come and see you. You got plans this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I do,” AJ said.
“Cancel them,” McMaster said. “We need to talk.” And he hung up.
AJ spent the day planning. He thought about calling Leon, despite what Maria had said, but then he realized, he didn’t need Leon. He just had to think like Leon. Work the scenarios - best case, base case, worst case; if A, then B. And given the tone of his call with McMaster, he’d plan for the worst case.
Best case, McMaster was coming over to ask him in person to get the manuscript, AJ would say no, McMaster would be pissed but he’d go to his own plan B and probably just get someone else to steal it.
Base case, McMaster would be angry, threaten him, but if AJ held his ground, he’d have to go to plan B anyway but might be pissed enough to do something to AJ, like get him fired or break his kneecaps kind of thing.
Worst case, same as base case except worse. He’d try to set AJ up for some sort of criminal charge, get him jailed, or threaten AJ’s Ma, like Leon said. Kill him? AJ didn’t think so. His part in this wasn’t that big. He’d talked through the risk scenarios with Cassie, and she didn’t think so either.
So AJ planned for the worst case. McMaster was coming over to threaten him, maybe try to set him up so that he could be nullified if needed. Why else call him out of nowhere and ask him to agree to burgle a resident’s house? Of course McMaster was planning to record it. AJ thought about that, then realized he was starting to sound as paranoid as Leon.
There’s a flow here, AJ thought. Has to be. Right now it looks all bad, but there’s got to be an upside, you just can’t see it. You just got to keep moving with it, it’ll show itself. He thought about calling Cassie but nah, she’d start to think he wasn’t capable of doing anything without checking in with her. And none of this was her problem. He had to deal with it.
AJ got way behind on his scheduled calls, but he needed to set a few things up. Thinking like Leon. So, he didn’t know the full story with Leon? So what. He knew what he needed to know. The guy was a good guy. He was a good father. His wife loved him. He was sick. That was the Leon he knew. McMaster could say what he wanted.
And ask AJ whatever he wanted, too. AJ had a line he wasn’t going to cross and he was willing to bet he wasn’t about to get killed for it. A good old fashioned kneecapping? The problem for a guy like McMaster, who used pressure to get his way, maybe even threats of violence, was that the physical stuff wasn’t a threat to a cyber who could turn off his pain receptors. And death, not that he’d welcome it … well that was just an ‘unscheduled re-integration’. The Core Will Abide.
AJ managed an almost normal day until four p.m. McMaster called him from what sounded like a car. Probably coming in from the drone port. AJ let it go to his service. The guy didn’t like wasting words, “McMaster,” he said. “Call me back.” AJ didn’t. By five AJ was sitting on a beach near Togiak, a town north-east of South Coast city with its own small fishing port and a surf-ride service that could take you out to a small two-way where they Skycap met the sea so you could get out to a decent spout zone about a mile outside. A couple guys asked him what was up, why wasn’t he out on the water, but he just told them he was waiting for someone. He’d let McMaster call again twice more, knowing the guy probably had a trace on his drift signal, but wanting to let him stew.
Six p.m. he called him back, “It’s AJ.”
“OK, where are you?” McMaster asked, acting like he didn’t already know from AJ’s drift status. “I’ve been killing time at the drone port for an hour…”
“Yeah, well I went surfing at Togiak,” AJ said. “Told you I had plans.” He smiled as he said it. Screw you, Citizen Superspook.
“Cute,” McMaster said. “OK, how far am I from Togiak?”
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” AJ said, “Your AI will try to take you straight up the i5, but there’s a snow warning. Take the coast road, it’s more likely to be clear.”
“Fine. I didn’t eat yet, you want to meet at a place there?”
“No, I already ate,” AJ told him. He had no intention of socializing with the guy. “I’ll meet you at San Elijo beach. Just south of the Togiak parking zone, there’s some nice easy steps down. I’ll be at the bottom. You get lost, just ask for directions to the surf school. They’ll be finishing up right when you get here.”
Which was true. Part of his plan was for there to be plenty of people around he knew, in case he needed any help. He didn’t think he would, but he couldn’t be sure McMaster was alone. He’d also take the precaution of Deep Coring his sensory feed in real time so that in case McMaster said or did anything stupid, there would be a record of it.
He sat watching the water beat against the walls of the Togiak city dome, playing with Core Death scenarios so he didn’t get too stressed (the irony of which he didn’t see until later) thinking damn, it’s a nice evening, what am I doing sitting here when I should be out there? Looking up at the steps and checking the people coming down. It wasn’t quite thirty minutes later, he saw a guy in a dark suit and white shirt coming down the steps. There was only one way to approach AJ on the beach and McMaster was on his own, unless he had people out on the water, which AJ doubted. So far, so good.
AJ held up his hand and waved until it was clear McMaster had seen him. The guy waited on the steps like he expected AJ to come over to him, then when he saw AJ was just going to stay sitting, he sat on the bottom step, took off his dress shoes and socks and walked over the sand to AJ.
“Nice view,” he said, standing and staring out at the sea where the Skycap and the water met each other. The only break in the symmetry was the small two-way where surfers or fishermen could get out onto
the Shifting Sea. Larger ships had to go west to South Coast city and the Sea Gate. McMaster shivered, “Freaky how you got bergs and waves on that side, calm water on the this one.”
AJ threw him a towel, “Here. So you don’t get your ass wet when you sit down.”
McMaster looked at him, doubtful, “You got a picnic basket there too? I’m still hungry.”
“Then we better talk quick so you can be on your way,” AJ said. “Great fish place back in Togiak, before the highway.”
McMaster took the towel, shook it out, and a pair of board shorts fell out at his feet. He looked at them, then looked at AJ, raising his eyebrows.
“For you,” AJ said. “So you don’t look like a doofus, standing around in your nice suit.”
“You expect me to change,” McMaster said, not quite believing him.
“Unless you want me to think you’re carrying a weapon,” AJ said, looking back out at the sea. He realized he was sounding like a smart ass, but bad luck. He didn’t appreciate being threatened.
“I don’t need a weapon,” McMaster said derisively. “To talk, with a common house and garden cyber.”
“So show me,” AJ insisted.
McMaster looked like he was thinking twice about how to handle AJ and AJ half expected him to get heavy. But in the end, he sighed, pulled off his jacket and folded it onto the towel, pulled off his shirt and trousers, and put them next to the jacket. He kept his briefs and thermal skin on, and pulled the shorts on over the top of them.
He was ripped, that much AJ saw. Narrower than AJ across the shoulders, but tight as a drum across the abs. AJ figured he probably had a playbook full of ninja takedown moves too, so even though AJ was bigger, if he got in a fight with the guy, he’d be down gasping for air in no time. So it was good that AJ’s plan was to keep things civil from now on.
McMaster spread his arms out and turned around, “Happy now?”
“Far from,” AJ smiled. “But please, sit.”
“This is all unnecessary,” McMaster started. “I just wanted to talk somewhere private …” He pointed towards the waterline about fifty feet away, where a class of a half dozen young surfers was just pulling themselves out of the water after having paddled in from the gate. “Which this is not.”
“Well, we’re here now,” AJ said. “And we’re talking. So.”
McMaster settled, and gave him a thin smile, “You left the Capitol in a hurry.”
“Personal situation,” he said. “Which was, you know … personal.”
“I get it, that happens,” McMaster said. “But thanks for agreeing to meet.”
“I didn’t,” AJ reminded him. “And I made a record of our call. It’s not every day someone from the government calls and asks you to commit a crime.”
“I didn’t. And I’m not from the government,” McMaster said, annoyed again.
“No? So you didn’t ask me to steal Citizen Warnecke’s manuscript and you don’t work for Congressman Winter?”
“As an adviser. He contracts our services,” McMaster said. “I just want a copy of the manuscript. I didn’t ask you to steal it. We would like to see the whole manuscript, and if we can, to get a copy of any Q-code related to it too. The Congressman would like to give it all to researchers who are more credible, less … erratic than Citizen Warnecke. Have some real experts look at it before anyone pushes the panic button.”
“Copy it, see it,” AJ said. “You can use all the synonyms for ‘steal’ that you like. Just admit you want it stolen.”
“I never said that.” He fixed AJ with a cold stare, “And don’t get too excited about caching these conversations, cyber. You’d be amazed how much data goes mysteriously missing from the Core, on any given day. Even firewalled data.” Letting AJ know he knew he’d encrypted his cache. Telling him getting into it was no big deal for a guy like himself.
“No, I wouldn’t,” AJ nodded. “You assume I just Core cached it. Data can be stored locally, citizen.” He enjoyed watching the color rise on McMaster’s face. “In real time too, for any given conversation.” Two could play the surveillance game, is what he was telling McMaster. Every word we exchange can be uplinked, cached, and transcribed to paper remotely. “So, Adviser, how do you advise we resolve this, seeing as I am not going to copy Citizen Warnecke’s manuscript without his permission?”
A small alert went off in his ear – probably Cyan calling to check they were still meeting up later. Tonight was their once monthly not-a-date night again.
McMaster sighed again, and looked down the beach at the surfers, de-icing their boards. The silence stretched out. After a minute he asked, “How bad is Citizen Warnecke?”
“Bad?”
“You said he has a gun? How erratic is he?”
“He seems to have settled down a little lately,” AJ admitted. “But like I said, I can’t discuss the condition of our residents, it’s a privacy thing.”
“You know his house though, are there any unusual alarms or anti-intrusion measures that wouldn’t be on the Core schematics?”
AJ gawped at him, “Now you want me to help you break in?”
“No one said anything about breaking in. We’re just talking AJ.” McMaster said. “And please, remember who I work for.”
“You have a warrant then?” AJ asked.
“Let me worry about that,” McMaster said with strained patience. “Can we agree that it is not a crime for me to ask questions about house number 96 in Sol Vista TGA Community. I might want to move in one day.”
AJ pulled back in his mind and followed the flow forward. Say that he told McMaster what he wanted. McMaster sent some arm’s-length team into Warnecke’s house and took the manuscript, or more likely just copied it, so Warnecke wouldn’t know he’d been burgled. Warnecke wanted Winter to show an interest right? Well, this was an interest. No one got hurt, and Winter got what he wanted. AJ rode off into the interior on Cassie’s planer, without a care in the world.
Yeah, right.
But where was the harm in a little cooperation if it meant he might slide out of this? He decided to play the game. “No, there are no special security measures. It’s a gated community, most residents don’t even lock their doors.”
“See, now we’re talking,” McMaster said. “And if I was a resident at your facility, where would I keep my valuables? Do each of these houses have something like a security box, or is there a vault up in your reception area?”
“No, valuables are each residents’ responsibility. Some folks have a box, wired into the grid, and Core monitored.”
“Uh huh. I’m particularly interested in 96 AJ. Would I need to install my own box there, or is there one already there?”
“No, you’d need to install your own.”
“Good, good,” McMaster said. “Final question, he has no pets right? Nothing that barks, squawks or quacks?”
AJ frowned at him. “Some residents have pets, but pets require modifications to the property. Since you are asking about house 96, no, it has not been modified for pets,” he said carefully.
“OK, nice to know,” McMaster said, dusting ice powder from the hands of his heat suit and getting ready to stand. “I want to leave you with some information. Food for thought. You can store it however or wherever the hell you want.”
AJ gave him a blank look and waited. McMaster stood, brushing powder from the back of his legs and picking up his suit and shoes.
“Your friend Leon,” McMaster said. “Was a military intelligence officer. He was captured, and spent two years in a New Syberia prisoner of war camp.”
“Knew that,” AJ told him.
McMaster nodded, “After the war, he was released, and given a discharge.”
“Knew that too.”
“Not a medical discharge, AJ,” McMaster said. “Not for PCPD. Maybe he does have PCPD - it wouldn’t surprise me - but that’s not why he was discharged.” He saw AJ was just waiting, so he continued, “He was discharged dishonorably, for collaboration with the en
emy while in captivity.”
OK; if it was true, that was new information. “How, exactly?” AJ asked.
“He provided New Syberia interrogators with intelligence on Tatsensui strategy, tactics, military and intelligence capabilities, financial resources and troop dispositions on Orkutsk.”
“Interrogators? So he was tortured,” AJ said.
“At first, yes,” McMaster said. “Not later. He continued giving them information. About his fellow prisoners. Their true rank and unit designations, escape plans, gossip and rumors and intelligence brought in by new prisoners.” McMaster paused. “Please consider the following to be facts, for your record. Your friend Leon was tried by a court-martial and found to be a New Syberia co-optee, and dishonorably discharged for that crime. Only the extenuating circumstances of his prior torture prevented a prison sentence, or worse. The manager of your facility, is a New Syberia citizen. An armed resident at your facility, a facility led by a New Syberia citizen, employing a former New Syberia co-optee, is threatening the safety and security of the Congressman who is currently heading up an investigation into, surprise surprise, the President of New Syberia.” He pulled on his shoes. “And then AJ, there is you. Now, as yet, we can’t yet see any link between you, and what looks increasingly to me like a classic New Syberian espionage operation, but I want you to know, I fully expect to find one. And when I do, you will find that equal rights for cybers, include the right to be tried for treason.”
“I don’t like being threatened,” AJ said.
“I don’t like being threatened,” McMaster parroted back at him like a kindergarten child. He looked down at AJ. “No one threatened you. I simply stated facts. Trust me, you wouldn’t act like such a smart ass if I had threatened you.” He wrote an ID in the sand with a toe. “If there is anything you would like to share with me about your friends Leon, Cyan or Warnecke, call this ID.”
He stomped off up the beach and AJ thought about calling after him, ‘Yeah, I’ll think about it.’ But he decided he’d taken it just about as far as he should. He had angry energy to burn, and there was still an hour or so of good surf to be had.
