Binding Foxgirls II

by Simon Archer

  14

  Achilles Tibor

  A knock came on the door of my bunker in the early hours of the morning. I rolled out of bed and clambered over to the door, though I didn’t open it.

  “What?” I hollered through the thick metal door. “Who is it?” My voice came out croaky since I was still half asleep.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” my assistant said. He sounded tired, too.

  “Then why are you?” I asked impatiently, tapping my toes against the ground.

  “Uh, I think you’re gonna wanna come out for this, sir,” he said, and rolling my eyes, I pulled it open.

  “Can this not wait until morning?” I asked, but when I laid eyes on him, that was answer enough. He was covered in charcoal streaks and reeked of smoke like he’d been in the middle of a fire. His skin was bloodied, and it looked like he had a fresh scar on his cheek to match the one over his eye.

  “I’m afraid not, sir,” he said. He looked nervous and in sore need of a shower and perhaps some minor first aid, but otherwise alright.

  “What happened?” I asked him sharply. “Was it TelCorp?”

  He nodded. Who else would it be, really?

  “Joch and one of his binders came in through the southmost tunnel entrance,” he said, making a point to look me straight in the eyes. I appreciated that. I demanded a lot of my employees, but it inspired loyalty as well.

  “They came into the tunnels?” I interrupted before he could continue, stunned. “How? How could they possibly think to do that?” I was so shocked that it didn’t even register that I should be upset or angry.

  “I don’t know, sir,” he said tentatively. “We’re working on figuring that out. But I guess it’s a good thing you had us go down to the south side when they did, just in case.”

  “Well, make sure every single available operative is on this case,” I said sharply.

  “Already done, sir,” he assured me. “They’ve been woken and notified already.”

  “That’s why I hired you,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Always a step ahead of me. I appreciate that.”

  “Of course, sir,” he said, nodding to me.

  “Tell me about what happened,” I said. “What did they find out? Why are you covered in soot?”

  “They made it to the station, sir, but no farther,” he said. “We stopped them there. We had the upper hand, but then… well, they exploited our men’s distaste for tech, I’m afraid. I tried to stop them, but they set off grenades. We lost fifteen men.” I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head.

  “I’ll notify their families personally,” I said. “Such a shame. That is a distasteful byproduct of our way of life, unfortunately. They fear what they do not know. I’ll have a talk with the remaining foot soldiers, try to rectify the issue.” The assistant nodded gratefully.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I think that’s an excellent idea. But what should we do about TelCorp?”

  “Let me worry about that,” I said coolly, calmly shutting the door behind him as he nodded.

  I began to pace back and forth in my small bedroom, which contained only a long, thin mattress sporting a lone sheet. I didn’t need much to be comfortable, other than the total domination of Termina, that is.

  It concerned me that Nic Joch was able to figure out about us at all, let alone that we were in the tunnels. I knew he was intelligent, but this was more than I ever expected. He would be a tougher opponent than I realized. That was unfortunate for everyone involved. Especially Joch himself.

  After several moments of this, I reached under my bed and pulled out a burned phone taped underneath it. I dialed the Prime Minister. He picked up on the first ring, despite the lateness of the hour.

  “Mr. Tibor,” he said hurriedly. “What can I do for you this morning?”

  “How is the motion looking, my dear friend?” I asked him, doing my best to sound as charming as ever. He didn’t need to know that Joch was gaining on me. He might go back to TelCorp. That was where his true allegiances lay, after all.

  “Very well,” he assured me. “I expect universal passage.”

  “Excellent,” I said. “That’s what I like to hear. Have you heard anything from TelCorp?”

  “No, not at all,” he said. “Not since we last spoke, that is. He called me this morning to express his… dissatisfaction with the way things went in the chambers.”

  “So, he has not reached out to you at all concerning recent events with the other binding corporations?” I asked, surprised. Everyone’s favorite trillionaire had been busy, hadn’t he?

  “No, not yet,” the Prime Minister said coolly. He didn’t like me, he didn’t like me at all. This wasn’t surprising. But then again, I didn’t need to be liked, only feared, though adoration was certainly a powerful motivator. My own employees’ dedication to me was illustration enough of that.

  “That’s odd, don’t you think?” I asked. Then, before he could answer, “Never mind, you need not worry yourself about that. Just make sure that when he does contact you and the other members, he doesn’t get anywhere. Or there will be… shall we say… consequences? Do we understand each other?” I kept my voice calm and leveled throughout. I found they tended to respond more quickly that way if they realized I wasn’t motivated by emotion. I always got what I wanted, and with a clear head, no less. I wasn’t Elias Berg. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

  “Of course,” the Prime Minister said. “I will make sure they all fall in line.”

  “Oh, rest assured that I will make sure of that,” I said, smirking as I spoke. “One way or another.”

  And with that, I hung up. No reason to drag out the conversation. I had work to do.

  15

  Early the next morning, before Cindra’s family had even awoken, we all took an air car back to the north side. Lin, Kira, and I needed to start cold calling the members of Parliament, and everyone else could get going on whatever it was that could make them useful.

  Once we passed over into the north side, we started to be able to see the destruction on the streets below. It looked as if people had set fires and thrown trash everywhere in their jubilee. Typical of brawlers, clubbers, and the like. But not on this scale. This was different.

  Back at the office, I downed several cups of coffee to keep me afloat before calling the Prime Minister. He answered coolly.

  “Mr. Joch,” he said. “What can I do for you this morning?”

  “What do you think?” I asked, not even bothering to appear angry anymore. I was tired and didn’t have a whole lot of hope for how this conversation would turn out.

  “I’m certain that last night’s news has come as a shock to you,” the Prime Minister continued, not missing a beat. “I’m sorry about that. It was certainly shocking when I heard of it.”

  “And when was that, exactly?” I asked pointedly.

  “Not long before you did, I’m sure,” he said dryly. “Things have moved very quickly over the past twenty-four hours, as I’m sure you can tell.”

  “What’s going on, Lucianus?” I asked. “Who’re you working for? What can you tell me about them?”

  “I have no idea what you are referring to,” he said, though I picked up on a newfound sense of panic in his tone.

  “Don’t try to fool me into thinking this was all your idea,” I said, thinking there was no sense in trying to keep my suspicions on the down low now that we’d blown up a train station. “Tell me who they are and what they’re threatening you with. If you don’t tell me, I assure you I’ll find out by any means necessary.”

  “Are you threatening me, Mr. Joch?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly as he tried to sound indignant.

  “I’m telling you the way it is,” I said flatly. “This is TelCorp. We have more resources than you could possibly imagine.”

  “I wouldn’t speak so soon,” Halit said, and then disappeared abruptly with a small clicking sound.

  I stared at the phone in my hand. Unbeli
evable. In the matter of a day, I’d gone from a combination of the most feared and revered man in Termina to nothing but an afterthought in the eyes of the people whose careers I’d made myself. It was jarring, to put it mildly.

  From there, I cold-called the rest of the members of Parliament on my list, but not a single one of them answered. Then I called them all again, only to meet the same result. I left messages each time expressing my distaste at being avoided and lied to. After the third run-through, including attempting and failing to make contact with the Prime Minister again, I gave up, slamming the phone down on my desk with such force that it nearly broke in two.

  I stormed out of my office and into the elevator, nearly punching the button to go to the next floor down out of my frustration. The elevator rattled and whirred anyway, quickly depositing me on the floor where the rest of the board members had their offices. It was so early that the only other people in were Malthe, Kira, Kinley, Cindra, Clem, and Lin. The rest would be along for our board meeting after the Parliament proceedings later that morning.

  “Is anyone else having any luck at all?” I called the second I stepped out of the elevator.

  While the top floor was a wide and open space full of desks for the TelCorp binders, this floor more closely resembled a classic office building in size and scope. There was a long hallway lined with offices, sporting bronze nameplates for each board member.

  Soon, my friends all scrambled out of their offices, whose doors had been shut tight in the event that someone came listening in who we didn’t want to know anything, to assemble around the elevator at the center of the hallway with me.

  “Not a single member has taken my call,” Kira said wearily, sounding very sorry to have disappointed me.

  “Same here,” Lin said, a sour expression on her face. “I’ve called them all at least five times.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I said, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair. “It’s not your fault. Well, the Prime Minister picked up the first time I called him, but only for a minute before he hung up on me. And he hasn’t answered since.”

  “Halit hung up on you?” Kinley smirked, crossing her arms. “The little weasel.”

  “What’d he say before he hung up?” Lin asked. “A minute’s more than either of us got with any of the members.” She gestured between herself and Kira on this last part.

  “Not much,” I shrugged. “Just that he’s not afraid of me, and we should think again before we consider ourselves the most powerful force in the city.”

  “Well, that’s cheery,” Malthe said darkly. “A bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

  “Well, I did ask him who he was working for, who had threatened him,” I admitted. “I figured who cares now that we’ve blown up a train terminal.”

  “So we can tell other people, too?” Clem asked hopefully, but I shook my head.

  “No, I just mean the people up here who are already in contact with the people down there probably know by now that we were in the tunnels,” I explained. “Everyone else needs to stay in the dark for as long as possible.”

  “Gotcha,” Clem said, clearly disappointed.

  “What a waste of time,” Lin said, opening and shutting her phone in frustration.

  “I think the proceedings are going to start soon,” Cindra sighed. “Should we go up to the board room and watch?”

  “Why the hell not,” Clem muttered. “What’s some more terrible news?”

  Together, we headed back into the elevator and up to the top floor, where we took a turn instead of heading toward my office and walked down the secluded cylindrical hallway to the board room. I scanned my ID, and we all entered.

  When I shut the door behind me, I input some info into the keypad on the wall, preventing others from entering until I gave them the go-ahead. The other board members would have to wait until the meeting actually started to join the party.

  Cindra crossed over to a similar keypad on the other side of the room, and soon a giant holovision came whirring down from a compartment in the ceiling. The holo images zoomed into life, and we were transported back into the great round chambers of Parliament, where the members were still busy taking their places in the surrounding pews. They were unusually silent, not even looking at each other, let alone bothering to talk amongst themselves.

  “Anyone with half a brain watching this shit would know something’s up,” Kinley scoffed, waving a hand lazily at the holovision.

  “The difference is that no one else gives a shit,” Clem said softly, and Kinley shook her head and crossed her arms again before propping her feet up on the table.

  I looked out at the round table sporting my friends, and really, they were all far more than friends at this point, for a moment before crossing the room to sit between Malthe and Kira. I gave a small smile as I did so, realizing that no matter how dark things got, I was still glad to be there with them. That was one good thing to come out of all this, after all.

  By now, Halit was in the seat at the front of the chamber. Not that there was a front, really, considering that it was round, but everyone seemed to accept it as the front, anyway. He looked even more tired and forlorn than he had the day before.

  “Order, order,” he said, banging his gavel on the desk.

  But there was already order. Everyone was silent and respectfully staring up at him, nothing like Parliament had ever looked before. Very strange behavior, indeed.

  “Very well,” Halit said, realizing that there was no reason for him to be waiting for the other members to settle down. “Let’s get started. Are there any motions to present to the floor today?”

  Not surprisingly, but sickeningly nonetheless, Gersen, the man with the cybernetic implants who represented the north side’s financial district and had been behind the motion to repeal foxgirl rights the day before, raised his forefinger high in the air to indicate that he had a motion to present.

  “Member Gersen,” Halit sighed, and I realized that he looked as if he had aged ten years since I’d last seen him, which had only been three days before.

  “God, he looks awful,” Cindra remarked, echoing my own thoughts as she gestured at Halit’s image. “He hates this, no matter what he said to you. There’s gotta be a way to reach him.”

  “I know,” I said, biting my lip, “but I haven’t been able to figure out how yet. It doesn’t help that he won’t let me fucking talk to him.”

  “Thank you, Prime Minister,” Gersen said, his voice echoing from the holovision as he bowed his head in deference to Halit, the flicker from his implants flashing across the screen. “Today, I wish to introduce a motion to repeal all anti-trust laws banning the conglomeration of the binding corporations, in accordance with the announcement of several binding corps last night that they are planning to band together to compete with TelCorp.”

  “And do you wish to offer a defense of this motion today, Member Gersen?” Halit asked him lazily.

  “Of course, Prime Minister,” Gersen said, bowing his head again. “It would be my pleasure. My great concern is that TelCorp has, in effect, a monopoly on the binding market and that their new CEO, Nic Joch, has made it very clear that the company wishes to enforce non-existent laws and act out vigilante justice here in our city. I find this unacceptable on a number of levels, and it is my sincere hope that my colleagues here in the Parliament will as well.”

  The cyborg paused for effect. “I believe that repealing these anti-trust laws will allow some real competition in the binding market for the first time in decades and thus make our job as a governing body and law enforcement’s job easier when it comes to dealing with Mr. Joch and his unfortunate aspirations. I welcome any discussion on this issue.” And with that, he gave a knowing smile to his colleagues before taking his seat.

  “What a fucking snake,” Clem said, shaking his head and nearly spitting his distaste in the direction of the holovision. “He even looks like a fucking snake. Walks and talks like one, too. If I could just…” He clenched
his fists, illustrating that he wanted nothing more than to squash Gersen in the palms of his hands. It was a sentiment I shared.

  “Shhh,” Cindra hissed, pressing a finger to her lips to indicate that we should shut up and watch the Parliament proceedings. I wasn’t sure why. We already knew what was going to happen. And we weren’t wrong.

  “Are there any statements in favor of or against this proposal?” Halit asked. Every hand in the room shot up.

  And one after another, just like they had the day before, the members of Parliament rose to voice their support for the motion. And one after another, they gave canned lines and memorized responses as to why, simply regurgitating what Gersen had already said in new and deeply uninteresting ways.

  “Very well,” Halit said after the final member had spoken, nearly two hours later. “It’s time to move on and vote, I think, unless there are any other comments? Seeing none, we will move to vote.”

  And then every single member of Parliament, including Halit, voted for the bill. Universal passage, yet again.

  “Every. Single. One,” Kinley said when it was all over, and the holovision screen had faded to black, her mouth hanging open. “Every single one of them spoke out in favor of the motion. Not a single voice of dissent. And we put them there. For what?”

  “I know,” I murmured, shaking my head. “But what’d we expect after yesterday?”

  “Maybe just a little sliver of respect,” Clem cried, banging his fist down on the table. “After all that we’ve done for them!”

  “We always told them that they need to be independent,” Lin said forlornly. “We always said that. And now it’s biting us in the ass.”

  “That’s not what’s biting us in the ass,” I said through gritted teeth, glaring at the blank screen. “They are. This secret organization, whoever the fuck they are. That’s who’s behind all this. That’s who we can blame. This is all their fucking fault.”

  “I don’t know, I blame Parliament, too,” Cindra said. “They could’ve warned us, could’ve fought back….”