by Simon Archer
“Tell me, Lucianus, what happened between this morning and this afternoon? What did they tell you to change your mind?” I asked, not unkindly.
“I… I haven’t been…” he said, stopping and starting as he searched for the words.
“Don’t lie to me, Prime Minister, I’m looking at the call now,” I said, more sternly this time as I peered over Malthe’s shoulder at the burner phone map. “The call was placed just about a half-hour ago. I can give you the exact time if you like. You took it in your office on the top floor of the Parliamentary building. Need I go on?”
I could almost hear Halit gulp on the other line. “I… How do you…?”
“Just like I told you, we know everything,” I said simply. “Now, I gave you a device to record the call. I intend to listen to it. In fact, my associate is listening to it right now.” Malthe tapped his ear as I spoke to indicate as much.
“I…” Halit tried to begin again but faltered.
“Lucianus, I’m going to listen to the call. You knew I was going to listen to the call. Why did you do this?” I asked.
“He gave me no choice!” Halit blurted out, so loud that even Malthe could hear it, based on his raised eyebrows. “He threatened my family, my livelihood!”
“And what do you expect to happen if you cross me?” I asked simply. “Not much better, is it?”
“You won’t kill my family,” Halit said, and I could tell by his tone that it wasn’t a question. He knew it was true, and so did I, for that matter.
“No, I won’t,” I admitted. “I’ll give you that. The threats coming from the other side are bigger, more costly, but my threats are more real. Like I said, we’ll protect you. We’ll protect your life, the lives of your loved ones. Just like we’ll protect everyone in this city from these people. But when all is said and done, we will prosecute you to the fullest extent possible once we get back to normal here.”
“Normal,” Halit scoffed. “What’s normal in Termina?”
“Fair point,” I relented. “You’ve got me there, but we intend to make a new normal. A better normal. And you did too until not too long ago if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re not,” Halit murmured, and I could tell he was breaking again. “Look, I was going to tell you. And I didn’t tell him anything about our conversation--”
“Of course you didn’t,” I interjected. “Doing that would have implicated yourself since you would have taken so long to fess up, judging by the timing of this phone call.” But internally, I was relieved.
Malthe gave me a thumb’s up to confirm that what Halit said was true.
“Yes, there’s that…” Halit admitted. “But also…” His voice trailed off again as he seemed to think better of it, but I already knew what he was going to say. I could sense it.
“But you wanted to play both sides,” I said flatly. “You thought that you could just keep talking to me, and keep talking to whoever this other guy is, and be able to get off scot-free no matter which side won in the end. Well, tough luck. You don’t get to do that. It’s time to make a decision, Prime Minister.”
I could really hear him gulp this time. “A decision…?” he asked, his voice shaking again.
“That’s right. This is your last shot, Prime Minister.” My voice was as firm and inflexible on this as my mind was. “Either you pull the troops and announce your allegiance to TelCorp’s goals, or I pull you and your family’s protective details and throw you in the Void the second we take back control of the city. This is it. You gave me a small window to give in to your demands. Now, I’m giving you an even smaller one to give in to mine. Because like it or not, I do have the upper hand here, Lucianus.”
“B-but I don’t have that kind of power,” Halit sputtered. “I can’t order them to stand down. That would have to come from Parliament!”
“Not in a state of emergency,” I said coolly. “Which, I’m guessing based on that holo-cast, has already been declared, whether you’ve announced it or not.”
There was a long, drawn-out silence on the other line.
“Don’t play with me, Lucianus,” I pressed after a few moments. “I’ll know if you do. You know I’ll know if you do.”
There was another long silence, but finally, Halit responded.
“We can’t help you fight,” he said, his tone short, but I’d expected as much. And it was good enough for me.
“We don’t need you to help us fight,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong. We’d like you to help. It’d make our job a helluva lot easier, and it’d make your job a helluva lot easier in the long run, mind you. But we don’t need you to help us. We can help ourselves. We just need you to not hinder us. Can you do that for me, Prime Minister? Can you do that for Termina?”
Another period of silence ensued, though this one was shorter. I could hear Halit’s breath on the other line, short and shallow. Anxious.
“Yes,” he said at long last. “I think we can manage that.”
“You think?” I repeated, raising my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Lucianus, but that’s not going to cut it. Not for me and not for Termina.”
“Fine,” Halit relented after another brief pause. “But we won’t help you. We won’t swear allegiance to you. We’ll keep the peace, and that’s it.”
“And what exactly does keeping the peace mean to you, Prime Minister?” I asked pleasantly, not wanting to antagonize him further if I could help it.
“It means intervening only when civilians are caught in the crossfire,” Halit said. “No more, no less.”
“Very well, I’ll hold you to that, Lucianus,” I warned him. “I’ll pull the protective detail and throw you in the Void for treason the first chance I get, mark my words….”
“I understand that, Mr. Joch,” Halit said coolly. “You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.”
“Excellent,” I said. “I’m glad we’ve come to a more explicit understanding this afternoon, Lucianus, I think we both will benefit immensely from this clarity.” Sometimes I sounded a little too much like a CEO for my own comfort these days, but oh well.
“Am I free to go then?” Halit asked, his voice curt.
“Not quite,” I said, smiling coolly, and I could almost hear Halit groan audibly on the other line. “I’d like to make sure that we’re clear on what’s going to happen next. You’re going to announce a state of emergency on the holocast. Then you’re going to announce that you’re pulling back the troops and maintaining neutrality in the binder turf war and explain why you’re doing this.”
“Explain why?” Halit repeated, incredulous and panicked all at the same time. “You can’t be serious, Mr. Joch. You don’t want to go public with our knowledge of this underground society. That would cause more than a panic, I must say…”
“No, of course not,” I snapped, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at the idea that he would think such a thing. “Had you not interrupted me, I would’ve had time to explain. Right now, publically, this war is between TelCorp and the conglomerate. Nothing else. The state is neutral when it comes to private affairs like this, except when it concerns the safety of ordinary citizens, as you already explained to me.”
“That’s all?” Halit asked. “You really think these people are going to buy that explanation? They have intel on everyone in the city! Except for yourself, of course…”
“Again,” I said through gritted teeth, “if you’d allowed me the time to explain, I would’ve done so. There’s no way the tunnel people, whoever they are and whatever they’re doing here, are going to buy all this. That’s lunacy, but what will they be able to do? They won’t have your law enforcement to help them. It will just be TelCorp against the conglomerate, and TelCorp will win that war, mark my words, Lucianus. When we do, well… suffice it to say that we’ll take care of this secret organization for you. They’ve been ruling the city long enough.”
“Very well,” Halit sighed, obviously skeptical of this plan.
“We’ll protect you and your fa
mily, Lucianus,” I assured him yet again. “All you have to do is do the right thing. All else being equal, you’re on our side. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll wake up one day and find you’re completely lost, just like Elias Berg.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is that a threat? You killed Elias Berg, remember?” Halit asked, a hint of anger returning to his voice.
“I merely meant that Elias Berg was nothing more than a puppet during his time at TelCorp.” I kept my own voice as measured as I could manage in response. “He lived a life in fear of these people, unable to control anything in his life. Be careful, or you’ll end up the same. I’m giving you a way out. A way to prevent this from happening to you, too. A way to honor your vows to this city and your own ideals at the same time. Take it.”
Halit gulped again, louder this time.
“Alright,” he said at long last. “I suppose I have another news conference to get to.”
“I’ll be watching very closely,” I warned him. “And you’d better keep the rest of your members in line, Prime Minister. Do the leg work of getting them to trust your judgment before they impeach you or something very impractical like that. In short, do your damn job. As I said, I’ll be watching.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will, Mr. Joch,” he said, his voice wearier and more tired than ever now. “I’m sure you all will.” And with a characteristic click, he was gone.
26
“So… that was good then?” Malthe asked, looking up at me when we were both sure that Halit was gone.
“Yeah, I’d say so,” I said. “Considering he follows through, that is.”
“We should probably go find out then,” Malthe said, pointing at the door toward where the others were waiting downstairs watching the holovision. He rose to leave, but I caught his arm.
“Wait, that bug. What did Halit say on that phone call? What did the other guy say?” I asked, leaning in close to Malthe just in case someone who shouldn’t be was listening in on our conversation.
“Well, I couldn’t hear the other guy, unfortunately, just Halit,” he said, frowning slightly at this. “But I could hear him. He was panicked at first. It was clear he was really hoping they wouldn’t call. And then he got all quiet and scared. It was hard to follow since I only had half of the conversation, but I’m pretty sure whoever was on the other line spun a very different story than what actually happened about the battles today.”
“Sounds about right,” I said darkly. “But we have Halit now. Or at least we’d better.”
“Should we go watch?” Malthe asked anxiously, pointing to the door again. “We’re going to miss it if we wait much longer.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, reaching for the door. To my surprise, the rest of our group was waiting outside for us, huddled against the wall and muttering amongst themselves.
“What’d he say?” Kinley asked, jumping to her feet almost immediately when we came out. “What’s going on?”
“Let’s go downstairs and find out,” I said, setting my lips in a thin line and leading the way down the stairs.
“Wait, so what happened?” Lin asked, sidling up next to me on the narrow stairwell and eagerly looking up at me. “Lucianus, is he… is he going to stick with us?” She was good friends with him. I knew everything that had happened the last couple of days was particularly hard for her to stomach because of that.
“We’re about to find out,” I said. “I’m not gonna jinx it before he addresses the city.”
“Addresses the city?” Lin echoed, clearly excited.
“Oh, this should be good,” Clem said, taking the rest of the stairs down two at a time. “Whichever way it goes, it should be good…”
“You could say that again…” I said, rushing to the living room where Cindra’s family still sat.
“They just said Halit’s gonna be on,” Avil said when we walked in, whipping her head around and staring right at me with a combination of excitement and extreme worry.
“Yeah, he’d better be,” I grumbled, taking a seat in a love seat next to the family. Kinley sat down next to me, and Kira sat at our feet, leaning up against the chair with her back. Lin and Clem sat in another love seat across the room while Malthe and Cindra squished themselves in amongst the rest of their family on the long couch. We all turned our attention to the holovision, where an anchor was introducing Halit.
My stomach did a little backflip. If this didn’t go according to plan, we’d have to go right back to the drawing board on all of this. And I did not want to do that. Not one damn bit.
“And without further ado, the Prime Minister, to address the city on… something or other,” the anchor said, clearly unkempt, sleep-deprived, and hyped up on caffeine and whatever adrenaline was running most of the city right now. The guy looked like he’d been dealt one curveball after another all day. Hadn’t we all.
Halit appeared on the screen, looking almost as disheveled as the anchor.
“Thank you for that,” he said, seeming to have forgotten the anchor’s name already. I couldn’t really blame him. He had a lot on his plate lately, to put it mildly.
He stared down at some scattered noted on his desk and then back to the camera as if making a decision. He cleared his throat and then cleared it again. That’s when he seemed to decide, taking a deep breath before he spoke again. I held my own breath, waiting to hear what he was going to say and afraid that it wouldn’t be quite to my liking.
“Very well,” Halit began again. “I’m here to address you again this evening with some new developments. Or rather, some new decisions on behalf of the government. We have decided or rather, I have decided with emergency powers that have recently been granted to me by the Parliament and which will be confirmed here shortly to withdraw our troops from the border between the north and south sides of the city and adopt a stance of neutrality in what has amounted to a turf war between binding corporations.”
The newsroom went wild at that. Reporters started to bombard Halit with questions from their respective cameras, but he was able to ignore them because he was in his office, safely away from where they could physically encumber him. At least for now. We’d have to send some drones to escort him out of the Parliament building safely. But then again, we’d probably have to do that, anyway.
“I will not be taking any questions at this time,” he said sharply, not that anyone would be able to make out any individual questions in all that ruckus, including Halit himself. “The City of Termina and its government will only be protecting civilian lives and public property from here on out in this conflict. We do not wish to get involved in a private dispute between binding corps any further. That is simply not our job.”
“But, Prime Minister, what about the new law passed this morning to pave the way for the new binding conglomerate…?” about four or five reporters all blurted at once, loud enough that it came through on Halit’s own microphone. He held up a slender hand to silence them.
“I will not comment on legislation that has gone through the Parliament as of late,” he said, conspicuously avoiding looking straight at the camera, I might add. “I am merely relaying my own decision as the Prime Minister of the City of Termina during an unprecedented state of emergency. I repeat this is my decision, and law enforcement is bound to comply with it, whether they like it or not.”
“But sir!” someone blurted. “Will there not be whispers that this is just because you’re Nic Joch’s lackey?” To his credit, Halit didn’t avoid looking at the camera in response to that question. In fact, he glared daggers straight at it, his gaze penetrating and unflinching.
“I am no lackey,” he said coolly, curling back his lip to display his distaste at such an unsavory suggestion as this. “I am no one’s lackey. I came into office to be my own man, to rule for the good of Termina, for the people of Termina. I’ve failed in that mission lately, I’ll be the first to admit. But no more. This is my decision. And it’s a decision I’m making for the people of this
city. No one else. No one person. No group of people. The ordinary citizens of Termina. That’s it. If I were to be a so-called ‘lackey’ for TelCorp or anyone else, I’d do a helluva better job of it, I might add. I’d be sending government forces to join one side or another. I will do no such thing. No more. Termina and its government stands on its own two feet from here on out, if I have anything to say about it. That is all.”
And with that, Halit gathered his noted and leaned forward to flip off the camera while all the reporters continued to scream at once, trying to get more information out of him.
“Wow,” Avil said, her mouth hanging open and then popping on the word. “I don’t know what I expected, folks, but it was not that, that’s for sure. Was not that.”
“That’s Lucianus,” Lin said brightly, smiling across the room at everyone. “I told you he’d come around. He’s a good guy. He was just stuck in a tough spot.”
“Hold up,” Clem said from his seat right next to her, holding out his hands and turning to face her. “You can’t seriously still be defending this motherfucker. I mean, he’s hung us out to dry three or four times now, hasn’t he?”
“And now he’s doing what’s right,” Lin shot back, stubborn as ever, though not nearly as stubborn as Cindra at least. “When it was hardest for him to do the right thing, he stepped up to the plate. I think he deserves at least some credit for that, no matter what he’s done the past couple of days.” Clem opened his mouth to argue, but I jumped in to dispel the argument before it really got going.
“Okay, look,” I said. “I agree Halit deserves some credit here. But he also deserves some blame.”
“Damn straight, he does,” Clem interjected. “That asshole’s fucked us over at every turn. And now, it’s all just for show. He’s not going to do anything to help us. If he wanted to, he could make law enforcement fight for us. He said as much himself. And instead, he’s doing nothing. Jack shit. Absolutely pathetic.” Clem kicked at the fresh carpet with his boot in frustration.
“I understand how you’re feeling, Clem, but Halit did step up today in a big way,” I responded. “Not as far as we would have liked him to go, to be sure. There’s no denying that. But he stepped up. His life is on the line. His whole families’ lives are on the line. Remaining neutral makes sense in this situation. This way, whoever wins, he can try to negotiate with them instead of just starting with antagonism. Speaking of Halit, Malthe, do you have protection on him?” I turned to the hacker.
