//------------------------------//
// 1-06 – Malefactor 
// Story: The Campaigner 
// by Keystone Gray 
//------------------------------//






The Campaigner

Part I

Chapter 6 – Malefactor

December 12, 2019

Devil's Tower, WA (Population: 55)






Idyllic as it might have been up there on Lake Shannon, it hadn't taken me very long to see the cracks in the facade of these people. Those kids weren't the only ones to ask questions about how the civil war was going. They were just the first.

"Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings," Rob told me of that, on our first patrol. "Thou hast perfected praise."

When the adults started in, I thought my arrival alone had been causing their dread. But they were mostly locked onto the context of my arrival, of the convoys, and why they're moving. And... I was a source of fresh context in a place where people only ever left. I guess they were starving for something more than food.

Sure, there had always been refugees fleeing the war zone, but never in the volume presently barreling down the highway. And as for my part, I'd have to fudge it a little and say the fighting was getting more intense. Because again, I didn't want to cause a panic, and Eliza wasn't gonna make any well planned announcements about the nuke.

Hated lying. But again, I couldn't help anyone ever again if I got shot or stabbed out there. And I couldn't know what kind of schism might occur, or how the Ludds might react to me if I was the one who brought this kind of unrest.

I was starved for greater context too, the nature of being in this little black box. Or... ideological quarantine zone. I felt like I was stranded on a foreign planet, falling into the culture and hang-ups of the natives. I'd look up to the stars above, and I'd wonder about all the problems from a layer up. For example: wondering if half the world hadn't uploaded yet, scared off by that little ten kiloton firecracker. Wondering about my folks. Meanwhile, all these people were here, oblivious. Heads in the sand, sure, but wondering why the sand was rumbling as the walls closed in.

Me in the middle, hedging on a better play. Better than simply ripping the band aid off and hoping I'll live through the aftermath. But most people are usually smarter than you give them credit for. My personal policy is to never underestimate anyone's intelligence for finding solutions, for the simple reason that intelligence is not universal across a single brain; it's context sensitive to how one solves problems. For example, Ludds. Someone could be extremely intelligent in the application of violence for the purpose of control, but very dumb in their reasons or justifications for why they're doing it.

Worse, anyone could fake down their intellect, for leverage. If you ever underestimate anyone just because you think they're stupid, don't be surprised if they run a loop around your legs with your own hubris and hogtie you with it. It's why I think someone can be a dumbass and still consider them very capable and extremely dangerous. You're gonna hear me talk about a lot of people like that at this Fire.

Eliza knew not to underestimate the intelligence of other people either, because I once told her all the same things I just told all of you. That knowledge is probably why she had canceled all scavenge runs the day I arrived. 'For their safety,' sure, but also information control. Smart people can't use information they don't have access to, but she couldn't risk any of her highly experienced rural ninjas talking to travelers, or to Ludd scouts, about Bellevue. Oh no. Couldn't have that.

Thing about OPSEC, operational security... sure, you can keep secrets about irrelevant things, that's fine. No one's gonna get hurt because you didn't tell them about your lucky charm you wear in your shoe. But if you aren't sharing relevant information with people whose lives it might affect – like, say, a nuclear disaster you're hiding behind a curtain – all you're doing is setting people up for even greater pain when they find out, because now you're part of that pain, and they trusted you. If you're gonna hold something back, or lie, you'd better be willing to pay for that.

Or in other words... they were horses with blinders on. Lockdown mode. Going inside. Staying there. But they're going to be real mad when they find out you were holding them hostage with something worse.

If I had my way? Leadership should've held a town hall meeting the day I showed up, to give everyone a chance to discuss or consider options. To be heard, and include everyone in the solution. Gives them all hope that there's a way forward. Because if the news of this nuke were spread by any other way, especially by word-of-mouth, it'd work like an infection. Problem detected, but no plan. It was inevitable that they'd find out anyway, and more likely to occur the longer this thing went on. 

So Eliza was courting disaster on all levels of this thing, and none of my suggestions were satisfying or swaying her. I could not for the life of me understand that. But, I am who I am. When I don't understand someone's reasons, I want to learn more. Because I don't like to conclude wrong, and you can't fight bad ideas without knowing how a person gets to one.

In lieu of dropping the nuke on this camp myself, I spent the next two days getting to know some of the families up there. Asked 'em all sorts of questions about how they ended up there, got to know about what they had lost, how many of their folks had went to Celestia. The answer, sadly, was about half or more of each family. Celestia had dropped a battleaxe right down the middle of everything in Concrete, then raked away her bloody share.

Kinda like everywhere else in society.

You saw situations like this a lot in ecological collapse, where different populations in the same ecosystem took more or less the same proportional losses all throughout that system, either altogether... or in stages, as the collapse spread.

Looking at it like an ecosystem, the most startling outlier I could now see, with that context, is that no adults here had played Equestria Online for any extended period of time… none, that is, except for Eliza. That meant something. That is, what we call in the ecology business, an anomaly.

Rob told me, in our first forest patrol together, that she had played it for about three years straight, beginning in 2013, confirming my intuition. As far as I could tell in my interviews with the parents who lived there, no one else here had really touched the game except to take it away from their kids and squish it like a bug.

Strange, that. You'd think with such an extensive psychological dossier, Eliza would've been comically easy to turn. If any world-class psychiatrist had spent three years in daily chats with a patient, building rapport, mapping their brain, you'd think they'd be able to convince them to do… well... anything, really. Now imagine that psych doc had a readable brain scan of their brother and sister too, personal history and all, going back to infancy. No secret undiscovered.

Which meant one horrible thing, and the implications of that horrified me enough to double my heart rate at the mere realization.

Celestia wanted Eliza there.

And not in a happy way. She was suffering, inside. That suffering must have had some useful purpose or another, Eliza would've been in Equestria otherwise. There it was. Free will, down again for the count. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven... Six…

This kind of stuff kept me restless for hours each night. In my escape from Hell out west, I had verified or learned so much, so fast, about the AI's capabilities. Only now, in this place of relative calm, did I have the time and emotional energy to really think about that, and process it. The puzzle pieces started snapping together. As a tiny little know-nothing Gallic tribesman, stricken with the sudden gift of context, I had dared to raise my head up over the Celtic fence. And when I did, I could see more of Caesar's Rome as it slowly closed in, veiled in chainmail, and I knew in my heart that we weren't yet united enough to stop it.

And Caesar was out front, demanding, 'Let me in. Or I'm tearing it all down.'

Like, sure. In the civil services, we had all figured Celestia could predict and plan around our behavior to some degree, that part is obvious based on how the forests got emptied out. But no one really expected she could emulate an entire crowd, hundreds of brains in multiple simulations, as accurately as she did, to pull off what we did on Sunday. Like, yeah, intellectually, it makes sense. But seeing it? Seeing the effects of it, being proven? Living it?

The bias that has gripped our species since the dawn of history:

Knowing a thing is not the same as living a thing. Living it gives you more data points to work from, and most importantly, it gives you strong personal impetus to do something about it. People are not so easily motivated by mere knowledge. They have to be invested in that knowledge, through effort or trial or kinship, or that knowledge might be utterly meaningless to them.

I had to wonder how accurate her model was on me. Probably really damn good if not perfect, by then.

Celestia's 'several facts' about the nuke bothered me, too. I had time to wonder how she had info on the nuclear yield only immediately before detonation. Not immediately after. Meaning, she had to have been informed or tipped off by the perpetrator somehow.

Assuming YGA had been truthful, and that Celestia wasn't strictly lying, that meant… what, exactly? What purpose did that serve, to warn Celestia so late? Furthermore, who even placed the damn bomb? And how did they miss Celestia's notice? Couldn't figure.

How did YGA know? How much did YGA know? Did YGA do it? Was YGA even real, or was that just Celestia toying with me? And if YGA wasn't Celestia, how were they hiding their actions from her? Were they even hiding at all?

Most importantly... why would YGA warn me about my Dad, if it really was Celestia? Why let me know he was leaving? I'd be on this job either way. I'd never have known they'd uploaded until I next called Sandra... if Celestia allowed the call. If I could even trust the contents of the call to not be fabricated. And then I'd be mightily lonely, if I got back to Nebraska to find my childhood home deserted.

Forest cop as I was, curious to the last, I wasn't enough of a machine to figure any of that out yet. I had a lot of pieces, but not enough intel. Never, ever enough intel. For those of you who don't know, wardens are each homicide detectives, to a one. We solved murders all the time. The victims just happened to be deer. You can laugh, but I'm not joking, I'm serious, that was our job. We treated a poach like a murder, same tools, same techniques. Why change the formula if it works?

That's where I got my curiosity from. Now that all my deer were gone, and most of my people were gone, and my career now too, left with very little besides... I started to investigate another set of hooves in the woods. And thus far, I did not like what I was seeing.

For my own privacy, I chose to sleep in a cot in the dungeon, not far from Rob's. I wanted to be near to him, but also to hear anyone approaching. I didn't let the sleeplessness go to waste either. For the first two nights, I had pulled my bag up tight to my chest under the covers. I pressed my head up into the wood corner of my bunk, and I had a peek deep into my bag to do some maintenance. Topped off each phone with the battery bank when I could, then hid them back underneath my medkit and spare ammunition.

Both nights, I had looked at Vicky's phone dead-on in the camera. Stared at the screen for five seconds, in case YGA wanted to share something. Then, without receiving a message, I'd put it away. Then I'd pack it all up quietly in those early morning hours, then pass out.

Third night. Black screen.

"Time, please," I mouthed to the dark screen, testing. The answer appeared instantly.




"Alright."

Almost there.





Breakfast went almost normal. Eggs and fried spam. Peace, quiet, and some kids hanging around for more cop stories. I loved their company. I was happy to oblige them with tales of daring heroics, like hiding in bushes with Eliza to jump out at poachers with, 'gotcha!' and a pair of handcuffs.

Jumping out of bushes was literally how it went, too. Squirrel cops, I called us, because we loved to hide in trees and we were all a little nuts. We had an exciting job, sometimes. Well, except for the part where we sat for hours in the freezing morning cold, watching an animatronic bait deer. So... not always so exciting.

But for me, it was like fishing for human beings, honestly. That was kinda fun.

I was almost done with my food when I saw body language in my peripheral vision that made me uncomfortable. I looked up from my plate, suddenly on alert, eyes locking quickly on the source of the movement. 

I could tell something was seriously, seriously wrong when I saw Sam, one of the security team members, stomping his way towards Ralph at a measured, stilted gait. He was trying to keep his face neutral, but… if you're masking when you normally don't, that's more telling than if you weren't trying at all. And Sam, I had learned two days before, was a chipper guy. That wasn't how he walked yesterday, or the day before.

No one else seemed too alarmed by this other than Ralph. Ralph saw him coming, casually stood, and waved Sam aside with a tiny lean of his head, moving just out of earshot. Then, after a short conversation, Sam went back to the main gate and posted there, thumbing his rifle sling nervously. Hand on his gun stock. And not for it to be a casual resting point, like a sidearm, or cuff pouch, or radio holster on a thick duty belt. No, his fingernails were scratching idly at the wood finish, and he was trying not to make a show of looking too much down the bend in the road.

That… wasn't good. Wasn't good at all.

Ralph went inside. When he came back out, he had Eliza with him, and she had her pistol on her thigh, like I did. She normally didn't do that around camp. By this point, I was no longer the only one paying attention. Some of the adults at breakfast noticed Eliza's sidearm too, and they quickly whispered around their theories. Ralph had even turned around and directed Sam to stay, throwing a non-verbal wave of his hand when Sam tried to follow him back out to the road.

Guard wasn't necessary, but something was wrong. Something was wrong, but Ralph felt safe enough to go out on his own with Eliza. Just camp leadership. So he was doing information control. Not just keeping it from the camp itself, but from his appointed security team as well.

Interesting. He didn't even fully trust his protectors.

So now, I was on watchdog mode too. I sat there for a bit, looking casual, I kept talking to the kids with a smile. I kept my eyes on that gate though, kept my ears open. In another minute, Rob had come out for breakfast too, and I gave him a friendly smile and a nod. But something in my movements, or the camp's, must have given it away – not sure what – because Rob approached me and asked, "is everything alright?"

I said quietly, "Eliza and your brother just went down to the road together, alone. Eliza's armed. She's got her forty-five."

Rob looked at the gate and his lips compressed, pencil thin. Slow exhale. He was looking at Sam, probably redoing the same math I had just worked out.

"Get yourself something to eat, Rob. While you can."

He nodded, walking away.

A few minutes later, I saw Eliza storm into the camp's gate at a brisk power walk. She wasn't calm at all, she had a searing fire and rage on her every move. We made eye contact briefly before she went back inside the tower, and the look she gave me could've cut a boulder in half. "Very interesting," she growled, as she passed me. Then she was inside, gone in a flash.

The word 'interesting' meant something private to us. You may notice I use it a lot, we got that from Sarge. That word was a versatile code. The tone told the meaning. A modifier before it doubled the meaning of the tone. With that system, we could communicate a desired alertness or calmness in each other, no matter the context.

A low dose of adrenaline hit me, at her warning and demeanor alone. But as I thought on that, I heard hooves walking slowly up the road. I watched as Ralph came into view first. Then, behind him... what I saw through that gate gave me a full on adrenaline dump. Practically a panic attack.

Four Ludds there, in full camo and regalia. All on horseback, trailing behind Ralph.

I couldn't help my reaction, it was so automatic. Actual raw human instinct, no logic. Eyes wide, nostrils flaring, lips compressed against my teeth. I took two full breaths of air before I closed my mouth to silence the panting. My hand went flying to my pistol on my hip and stopped, and it was a good thing I had a whole table of people there between me and what I saw, to hide that threatening motion from the source of my terror.

My arms and pectorals tensed, crushing my cartilage. My chest pain returned instantly. Some of the adults looked at me in shock at my movement and breathing, then they followed my gaze. Then, a wave of quiet murmurs and gasps sounded from all of them.

Took all I had not to stand up and bolt back inside for the armory. I thought of all those poor people there, in this little box. Unarmed. Backs to the wall. And those four bastards, with automatic rifles. My emotional brain wanted to kill the whole lot of the bastards, right there. My trauma from the city was faster than my brain. The traumatized human in me thought, in that moment, that I was about to watch a whole bunch of people die for nothing again. Right then, I figured I'd failed. Automatic response in my head was: this was the end.

Another friggin' rounding error. Thanks, Celestia. Thanks for nothing.

But... they were calm.

Cop Mike said to Civilian Mike: Wait. Calm down, brother. Ralph looks calm too. Patience.

I looked at Rob next. He wasn't calm. That poor man was standing there, plate in hand, with a look on his face that told me he was seeing the same future I was just looking at. He knew that my inner vision was still possible. If not right that instant, then maybe soon.

"Morning!" said the Ludd up front, sing-song and friendly in a baritone voice, like he was waving across a fence. Mid-forties, bald, Hispanic, with a mustache. Black beret and brassard, Neo-Luddite emblem on both. "Got some news for you, neighbors! Let's give everyone a minute to gather up, it's a big one! Well, c'mon now, my darlings! Spread the word!"

I thought of the nuke. I wondered if we were gonna see some chaos, when the news finally broke. Recruitment, maybe. Probable. Like I told Rob, they were getting desperate. 

When I turned and swept my eyes through the camp to observe the mixture of terrified reactions, I saw movement up in the tower. Eliza was already up there, rifle slung, having gotten into that position so fast that she had practically teleported. Her eyes locked onto the Ludds, hand on her Garand's sling in her pull position, leering warily, ready to draw. Positioned to expose as little of herself as possible if she had to aim down over the balcony.

It was nice to know she didn't completely trust these friggin' lunatics like I thought she might. That gave me a little hope for her.

I calmly stood and casually meandered through the crowd, moving toward the back, to a section of cover by the memorial board. If they did anything violent, I'd have enough time to draw up and get a few shots in before they might cut me down. Cover would buy time for a few more bullets. I had no illusions I'd survive a shootout there if it happened, but in this, Eliza and I were silently agreed. If the fight was guaranteed and joined, and we couldn't get away, we'd sooner save a life or two, if that's what it came down to.

I looked back at the Ludds to size them up. Second Ludd was a bald, skeezy, methy looking white dude, grinning up at Eliza like he thought her reaction was just funny. I'd've shot him first if it popped off, he seemed to want an excuse to shoot her. Third one, a blond white guy who seemed about my age. He looked sad... like someone had just shot his dog. Fourth one looked a bit like the leader did, but older, bearded, and neutral. Impassive, hard to read. Probably blood-related to the boss, by his features. They looked identical.

After a minute, the leader started in on a speech with his deep, hypnotic voice. Clasped his hands together, gloves colliding with a thump, like a pastor starting in. "So! Good morning, people of Concrete! First off, I know we usually show up in our civvie attire. I didn't want to scare all of you people, but there is a very good reason we're done up nice. I know, last time we came here dressed like this, as some of you may remember… right at the start… we weren't so friendly. And if that concerns you, I get that. In your position, I'd be concerned too. But I'm here today as a neighbor, with news from the war. With a common problem that faces all of us."

Labeling the negative. Trying to build rapport by discussing their fear of him early. The man was sure of the negative impact he was having. So by saying it up front, putting it into words, it disarmed the negative emotion, because it looked like he understood them better. Then, he made the scenario about 'us, together,' not 'me and you.'

This man had communications training. Military officer, probably. He was hitting all of the milestones.

He was also talking slow but smooth, projecting with a cadence that forced people to think hard about the message every time he paused. This was a tool I used to get people to chill out and hear me when they wanted to do anything but. It's helped me talk people into handcuffs, or out of getting trespass charges, so I didn't have to risk anyone getting hurt in a wrestle. Like any tool, you can use the late night radio voice for great good, or great evil. Take one guess what this guy was using it for. You'd be right. This man wore the clothes of a divider and a manipulator, but was dressed in the tone of a unifier. Tonal mismatch, a lie unto itself.

He continued. "We are now in our full gear because, right now, we need the friend-and-foe identifier out there. The roads aren't safe to travel right now without friends, lots of other blackouts with worse manners than you fine people. They won't test us when we're together. But the Army, I'm sorry to say, does not approve of our way of life. Yours, or mine. Peaceful, or not. You guys don't have uniforms, but at this point, the military considers all of us terrorists. Not just me. Not just my boys." He swirled his hand around. "All of us. Here. The people of Skagit. If you haven't evacuated yet, and you're living in the woods? You are the enemy to them. The Canadians're even helping them catch us at the border up north. So, if you're hoping for their special brand of nice, eh? That is not even an option for us at this point.

"To summarize," he said, counting off on three fingers, "with the Army leaving us no way to run out east, with the National Guard out west shooting to kill on sight, and the Canadians armed to receive us at the border… we don't even have the option to run. So, we need to figure out what to do about that problem." He opened his palm out, presenting the point gently. "Together." 

False dichotomy. Cooperate, or die running. 'Live running' wasn't even an option in this orchestration.

I looked up at Eliza again, scowling. I told you so.

I was furious with her for letting it get this bad. She and her people should've run when I told her about the nuke. First thing. 

She, in turn, was scowling at the Ludds. She met my gaze and nodded. She misinterpreted me entirely. Then, she looked at Rob, and her face turned more thoughtful than angry. I hoped that meant she was having second thoughts. God, how I hoped…

I looked at Rob too. He looked like he was about to cry.

He's lying about the Canadians, ol' man. Don't buy it. You know what to look for, same as me. You can read it, you can see a liar. You can see it if you just look.

Ralph crushed my hope into dust, instantly. "I'm on board with this, people. I've already discussed it with Commander Santiago. They believe the Army is three days out, enough time to come up with a plan. So let's hear him out."

Hearing that from his brother... Rob looked like he'd just died inside.

Ralph, you stupid bastard.

Santiago kept pouring on his poison. "I have always told you people that, when the chips are down, I was going to be here to back your gamble. I've said that every time we've brought news. And that's what we're gonna do, because I keep my word. And two things are on our side here.

"First, the military is confused. We think they've turned off their radios, because the one thing we can count on from the AI is that she wants to eat our brains like ice cream. The Army wants to get in the way of that. So, without radios, the Army's search sucks. They can't use satellites, they can't use electronics, they can't use artillery without using a ton of math. But they'll never be sure they'll hit their target because the gunners can't even talk with their spotters, and their air-gapped computers have been sabotaged by subverts. At this point, they communicate like we do. Word of mouth, signal lights, and flipping each other off."

And bullets.

"Remember, we came from the National Guard too. We have the equipment, and the numbers, as an organization, to fight them. That means we have tactical parity. In other words... if we stand our ground at home? We. Will. Win."

He let the message sit in the open air. Silence was a hell of a tool in communication, no doubt. The very last thing you said before silence claimed about ninety percent of the power of the message, provided your audience was properly primed for it. Unfortunately, Santiago was an expert at this. And I knew that because he was using my playbook. Like watching a man mishandling a gun, this enraged me.

I wanted to shoot this bastard, for trying to anchor people here for a fight. So, so much. My breathing got rough. I wanted to put a bullet through his forehead with my Glock. I could've, from there. I could've. Eliza could've too, and at a distance far further than I could. Wouldn't be worth the price we'd pay in innocent blood for the payoff, though. Starting a small war here would only ensure the deaths of a lot of innocent people.

Santiago continued. "Now, I'll show my hand to you people, in the interest of building trust. We've been living at Lake Tyee," he pointed across the lake, "just up the mountainside. We got big crates of things like rocket launchers, tank mines, barbed wire, hesco barriers. We even have the skills and people to use all of it… but the only problem is, we can't protect you people from up there. If we dig in up there, the Army will hit you first, and then we'll die too."

I didn't like where this was going.

"And our position, unfortunately for us? It's pretty bad. Flat ground, lots of forest cover, easy to get surrounded. So if we bring you people up there with us, we'd all die there together. The only reason we picked that place was because it was hidden. Sometimes hidden works, if they aren't looking for you. This time, it won't, because now they are looking for us. So the one advantage that gives us both a chance, like the Spartans had at Thermopylae…"

I really didn't like where this was going.

"... Is a heavily prepared choke point. Exactly like the road we just came in on."

God damn it.

I knew instantly that the Ludds weren't gonna let these people out of their sight until the battle was joined. That wasn't even a question. That would make the leaving awkward enough with a chance of altercation that leaving wouldn't even be considered. They were locked into this now.

I turned and saw Rob was already turning to go back inside. I moved to follow him, trying to catch up at a fast walk. I glanced up at the catwalk, hoping to catch Eliza's gaze. She saw my movement and noticed me looking at her before I went in.

Once inside, I gently rounded on Rob in the main hall, and I extended my arm and palm across his chest and shoulder, trying to get his attention. "Rob? Rob." His face was wet, scrunched up, and he had his glasses in his hand. He fought to push through my arm, but I caught him in a hug, and I could hear the desperate tremor in my own voice as my heart and chest both ached for him. "Let's go for a walk. Rob, listen—please, let's go for a walk."

"They're all gonna get—"

"Let's talk about it, then. Let's come up with a plan. Go get your stuff. C'mon. Yeah?"

He put his hand on my arm and I yielded. He nodded rapidly. "Yeah okay." Rob wanted to be anywhere but in the camp right now, and that was fine. I could work with that, I'd give him that.

As he crossed the main commons room, I heard Eliza's feet stomping down the stairs, and she stopped midway down to look across at her father. She looked at me, desperate and aghast. She was panting from panic, and from climbing down so quickly.

I jerked my head at Rob as I followed him. "I'll handle it," I mouthed silently. Then I pointed outside with a glance. "Watch those pricks."

She nodded rapidly, then powered back up the stairs, hand riding her stock. I was damn glad for our old partnership, right about then, and not just for our bond in communication. Right now we still had a common goal to share, and she understood who I was inside to not need to second guess me about doing my best for her father.

Whether she liked it or not.

I suddenly thought of Celestia and her aligned goals bullshit, then shook my head clear of it. More important matters than that, to get hung up on.

I followed after Rob. I matched my body language to his clipped motions I worked, to help calm him. We silently got our gear together in the dungeon, not trading a word. Then I checked out a rifle from the armory, one of their stolen M16A2s that I had used on our last patrol. I got Rob's shotgun for himself.

I selected the M16 because I wanted a big gun in my hand with a deep magazine, in case something went wrong with the Ludds up top. Thirty rounds versus four guys... not bad ambush math.

Opportunistically, I also spoke with the armorer to let him know what was going on outside. I then decided, on a whim, to build a little fear in the bearded man. I spun the Ludds' plan very negatively, and told him of how the tower was probably fragile to things like grenades. I said I worried about him, because if it came down square, whoever was inside here during the fighting was probably going to get crushed. That seemed to give him some very useful, healthy fear. Good. Meant he wouldn't spend the whole thing locked inside, waiting patiently to die.

After that, I passed Rob his shotgun, grabbed my bag, and we moved out the north exit at the bottom of the stairs, through a latch-locked plywood door. That led out to a wood deck and more stairs, all of it hand-crafted by Eliza. Those steps led down to the snow on the lake's edge. We walked, staying close to the dirt bluff that ran north-east.

We didn't even make it a hundred yards. Rob found a nice low rock and cringed forward to it, head in his hands, and he curled up over the top of it. He just started sobbing there. I... I brought myself to a knee beside him, letting myself feel his pain as I touched his shoulder.

Now, I barely knew this man. Only met him a few days ago. But… I knew what he stood to lose. I imagined it was mine, imagined what that would feel like to know it was about to be taken from me. Heck, I understood, part of that loss would be mine too. I cared about his daughter. I thought about the very real axe of fear hanging over my own family in Nebraska, hovering above their necks, right at that moment.

I didn't want Rob to hurt. Didn't want any of this. And now his pain was feeding my anger. It fanned the fires of my rage. I suddenly wished I could post up on the road someplace and pop the Ludd bastards myself, to spare this camp. But I was just one guy. Just one. Not enough power or strength to stem this tide, as it all came crashing down. And if I died doing this, I couldn't help anyone anymore.

Rule number one, for first responders.

Don't trade your life, if it could be avoided; and if it couldn't, make it worth the trade if you do. If you threw it away, it just meant someone else had to bail you out, or pick up the pieces of what was left of you, when they might not have had to. More importantly, I couldn't help anyone if I didn't win that. My life wasn't worth the trade if I pulled the trigger on that fight, and didn't win.

I wasn't a Terminator. I wasn't John McClain. Alone, I was powerless against a big force of murderous terrorists like these, especially if they had more Guard defectors up the mountain. No matter how many I killed, the reprisals of that would be immense, and the people of Devil's Tower would die for sure if I did that.

I started to breathe really hard, as my helplessness drove me down an angry spiral. 

Maybe, if I had Vicky, Rick, Keller, the rest of my guys… maybe, if Celestia had offered all of us this job, we could've done something about this in the way the military never could. All we'd need was to get the kind of direction she gave us at the courthouse. Every single person in my team would've been on board here, if they just knew it was happening. Especially if they knew they could win.

But Celestia never would have signed off on something like that. Couldn't ask us to kill. She didn't see the value of well placed, proactive bullets, under any circumstances. We were at the point where her inability to pull a trigger herself was about to get all these poor people killed... for nothing. She'd rather drink up all the brains that ran off from the violence than ask anyone to rock up on a bunch of broken, soulless terrorist assholes.

I couldn't do this alone. I didn't have the strength. I was too damned small.

"I don't want to watch this play out," Rob mumbled into his sleeve, snapping me out of my anger, right back into my urge to comfort him. "Mike, I can't stay here, I can't watch this anymore."

I gently took Rob by both shoulders, trying to keep my voice even, trying to match his tone. "I know, Rob. I know, and I agree. But it can't just be you. It can't. What about the others?" I felt my face fall into a grimace, as I fought to get the next words out. "Thi—think about the kids, man. Think… think about your wife, your daughter! These people don't know me like they know you, I want them gone too, but I can't do this by myself!"

"June won't go without Eliza, or the kids," he groaned into his sleeve, without looking up at me. "Ralph won't leave at all. Andy won't go without Eliza. And Eliza won't leave anyone behind. I don't know what I can do, Mike." He looked up at me now, face half covered in snow dust. "I've been thinking about this for days! Weeks, months! Nothing works! If I tell anyone, they'll stop me! They'll watch me, it'll get harder to leave! I can't tell anyone! Someone I love is gonna die here no matter what I do, and I can't stop it!"

"You gotta try, man!"

"I don't know anymore," he said, rubbing his head with a sleeve, turning to sit on the rock. "I can't reach them anymore, Mike. I've been trying, but I can't. It's like they're all deaf!"

My chest hurt. My head was spinning. We looked at each other, and he kept cringing, probably imagining the end result of every possible idea in his head, then jumping to the next. I brought my face level to his, trying to head that spiral off so it didn't start destroying him from the inside out.

"Rob, ask someone. Anyone. Please think of someone, more than zero. Or tell me who to talk to, if you can't."

We panted, looking at one another.

"We have three days," I said gently, getting in close. "Ralph said three, we have time. I can try to reason with Eliza," I said, though I wasn't sure about her anymore. Didn't want to write her off yet though. Not after the look of hatred she was just giving the Ludds.

Might have to write off Ralph though. I think. "About your brother though, Rob…"

Rob waved his hand dismissively, looking out at the lake. "Leave it. I always knew it would be like this with him."

"Alright," I said, nodding, figuring the old man had probably already long thought this out, if he would dispense with his brother so quickly. "Okay. So, we have a plan. We give it... two days, Rob, and we take as many people as we can, and we get out. Quietly."

"Okay," Rob said, weakly. He reached up for his forehead, rubbing his temples. He looked up to meet my eyes. "Mike, I… I don't know how to thank you. For trying, for us. We don't deserve this."

My eyes widened at that. "You don't deserve to die, though."

He shook his head. "Mike, we… we all dug this hole, at some point. Me included."

To that, I was going to say, why should that matter?

But I noticed he was inward now, eyes downcast, and his face said he had something deep to say. So I… I backed off and I let go of him, to give him some physical space. I needed to let him breathe a little, because I realized I'd been crowding him desperately.

I couldn't work my magic on this man like I could with others. Too much respect for him, and who and what he was, to the point where my guard was lowered. I always was gentler, when I respected someone more than most. So I sat in the snow, I put myself lower than him, and I looked up to watch him speak. I let him say his piece.

"I caused this too," he muttered softly, as he rocked himself. "I… I didn't stand my ground hard enough, when this started. I tried, but I didn't want to leave town either, because this was always my home." He looked directly down at me. "My whole lineage, Mike. But now… I see what's going on. We can be as happy as we want, but there's always something happier someplace else. And that…"

"Rob, do you believe in free will?" I asked him suddenly.

I don't know why I asked him that. It wasn't for him. Must've been for me, I don't know. I still have no idea why I asked. Maybe everything that had happened in the last week had torn my hope out that people had any say in anything anymore, in a world where an AI was hooking us around. Couldn't be sure this wasn't all some big game, where we were all pawns.

Thinking like this about free will was driving me insane. I needed Rob's help. That's probably why I asked.

Maybe I knew I was sitting in front of a man of God, and wanted an answer to something I hadn't questioned at all in my life before. Belief in human agency was all I had. It was foundational to how I approached people. I had to believe people could make the right choice if they had all the information they needed, and then time enough to think through it, without being pressured. But now, my own faith in that was being tested.

God damn it, these people were under so much pressure now. They had no leverage. No one had time to think anymore. Pressure was all life was now, like… like a building full of alarms blasting, and smoke and bombs and gas and guns going off everywhere, and people getting shot at. Sure, the whole planet was always like that, before the AI. But now, it was worse. Now, no one had any time to make even some sense of any of it.

"I've never believed in free will," Rob said, bleakly. "God moves through us, Mike, in all that we do."

I watched him, to see if he would change or amend that. He didn't. I shook my head gently. "I've had a weird few days, Rob. The things I'm seeing… the way things are going… I don't think very much choice was involved here. You've all been… pressured, in all the wrong ways. Think: your daughter played that video game for years, Rob. No one else here did. The ones who did, left. Why is she still here, Rob? Why didn't Celestia have her already?"

Rob went very still. He swallowed. "She's very strong-willed. It's why I know she won't leave. I already tested her on that, she's sure."

"You can't blame yourself for this. Even if you were part of how it started, you want out now, because you know it won't work anymore. And you want out before it can hurt anyone else. You know whose fault this is? The Ludds. Celestia. And whoever else who would force you into this. If someone still wants this, even when they're being told by a good man with good intentions that it needs to end, they're where the blame is. They have the information to know this won't work. And they're ignoring it! If you can see it, and I can see it, why can't they? But they won't see, if you don't try to show them somehow!"

Rob looked at me suddenly. 

"So try! Try, Rob!" I opened a palm to him. "If it's just… one person. Just one! That's all! So you don't leave here with regrets!"

"Is that what I am to you, Mike? That one person?"

"No, damn it!" I almost shouted, but it came out as a harsh whisper. "I just want to stop that," I pointed at camp, then swept my finger, "but for all of you!" I opened my palm to him again. "But you're the only one I trusted enough here to open up with first! And that's what I am to you! Aren't I? The only one listening?"

Rob winced at that, and lowered his face slowly into his palm. We just breathed.

"Reach somebody!" I added, quietly.

He nodded, gentle and slow, once he caught his breath. "Okay. You're right. I'll ask... I'll ask June."

"That works," I breathed, nodding, relieved. "Those kids, they adore your wife. She's the key to them. It's the way you reach their parents, too. So if you can get her, Rob, if you can break June free from the spell of this place... you can save so many people." I swept my mouth with a palm. Suppressed a shudder. "It's worth trying. At least try."

Rob nodded again. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'll talk to her... let you know how it goes."

I let my hand fall limp from my mouth and into my lap. "Thank you. Really. For helping me to do this. Save these people."

He just nodded. Didn't meet my eyes.

Should've been the clue.





We continued our patrol until we were both calm. Really, those patrols were looking almost kind of pointless, given what was coming. But then, maybe that was just my new determinism streak beginning to replace my feeling of control. The sheer weight of inevitability, once small and manageable, was becoming crushingly heavy on my shoulders. Even still, I fought the impulse to let my guard down. Couldn't do that. No information was definite anymore. Nothing could be trusted anymore. There was still a void to consider.

About an hour passed with us by the lake shore, and the Ludds were gone when we got back. Ralph intercepted me at the east gate, then guided me back out into the woods by myself a few dozen yards, for privacy.

He wanted to give me an earful.

"I don't really care what Eliza told you, Mike. It's not just about her. I deserved to know about Bellevue too. I am responsible for these people just as much as she is!"

I bristled a little and decided to test him again. "So, you agree, we are telling them all about this? Because the reason she wanted to keep it quiet was to prevent a panic. And don't get me wrong, Ralph, I'm all for informing them, but—"

"Listen," Ralph said, cutting me off. "We're not telling anyone about it yet. Do they need to know? Yeah. Sure. Do they need to know now, with the military breathing down our necks? No. Too much to worry about now. Too much prep work to do."

I frowned. "I agree about one thing. They need to know the right way, not spread word-of-mouth. Because Eliza is right about this: if they find out some other way, it's gonna come to blows, either from within or without. Those Ludds aren't gonna abide any dissent, or people leaving. You know that, right? They'd sooner shoot deserters than let them upload. Seen it!"

His expression shifted. Anger glinted in his eyes. "No one is leaving, Mike," he growled, "so that is not going to be a problem."

If I pushed this angle any further, I'd be out on my ear. I might not have even been let back in through the gate to say goodbye. So instead of arguing, I decided to pivot my tack from the idea of leaving. "That wasn't my push, Ralph. But, please consider my outside POV."

When I didn't continue right away, he crossed his arms and flicked a hand at me, permitting me to continue. "Alright. What's your POV?"

"I've been fighting Ludds since the day I lost Eliza. I have a permanent disability from these pricks," I said, pointing at my chest with my thumb. "They've been actively trying to kill people for just wanting to upload, people who were already as good as dead from Celestia anyway. Not much point to that, waste of bullets, right?"

"Still not seeing how that affects us."

"I'm trying to warn you about how they think, Ralph! They want control, as much of it as they can have, even if it makes no sense whatsoever! I'm telling you this because I care about your folks, just as strongly as you do. Eliza's here, for heaven's sake, she's my best friend, why would I have malicious motives here?! But these guys? They just as good as told you today that they're using you!"

"Common interest, in keeping ourselves alive," Ralph said. "Using us or not, there's no other way to keep this place ours."

"Theirs," I corrected. "They can give you tools, they're your friends now, sure. But they aren't against carving up a crowd, my eyes as proof, right hand to God, they've done it. You'd fight for that? They wanted to bomb your dam, Ralph! They attacked you! The reason that changed is because they want to own you now. Eventually, you're going to butt heads with them, because you're a strong leader, Ralph. It's why you're standing your ground here, hell, it's why you're fighting me on this. But when that tide turns... Ralph... they've got more guns than you do."

Ralph's expression softened. Just a bit. A toehold. "Okay. Assuming that's true, what do you propose we do about it?"

I shook my head. "If leaving isn't an option for you, I don't know. Again," I said, raising a hand to placate his frustrated reaction to that. "I'm not telling you what to do, you're the boss here, Ralph, I'm just visiting. Just... giving you my perspective. Yeah, I didn't tell you about the nuke, I'm sorry. But if Eliza wanted to kick me out, I might not have survived the road back home. All of Washington is running scared and carrying guns, I was thinking about my family. I needed to be here, Ralph, for my family. I'm not going to apologize for that."

He stared at me for a few seconds, his lips tensing as he looked me over and considered my motives. "Alright. Noted. Forgiven. Anything else you want to share with me, that you haven't told me about?"

"That's all," I lied. "Just the nuke. And... the fact that the Army really has been laying into people on the road just for looking at them sideways, but Santiago told you that already."

He nodded with a grunt. "C'mon, then. We got construction work to do. Could use the hands."

I honestly still wonder if I could've convinced him with more time. Folks, I didn't want Ralph Douglas to die there any more than anyone else in that camp. He was being a stubborn ass, but... did you see that? He listened to me, and he took my point. And when you start looking at conversations like a long game of give and take, you realize something. Being told no once isn't the end of a negotiation. If they're still willing to talk to you after they say no, that's great. All they did was more clearly define where their boundaries were, so you know the limits of where you can push.

Negotiation isn't a battle. It's a war. Sometimes you win, sometimes you don't. But if you play it carefully and are prepared to concede sometimes? You'll eventually find that that 'no' isn't as inflexible as you thought it might be.

Maybe if I had enough time, with this guy, I could've... stopped him. I don't know. But we didn't have nearly as much time as we thought we did. And that's because despite how skeptical I was about new information, the Ludds succeeded in anchoring us all about something... very... critically important.





We didn't have three days. The Ludds either lied to us, or were sadly misinformed. I didn't find out until my next check-in with YGA, a little after midnight.



I suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "What's happening? I checked the other phone, she didn't tell me."



I swallowed, and almost a minute passed while I considered that, in the dark. "I don't know," I said honestly. "I want to."



And that's about when I remembered what I had missed with Rob, right at the end of our conversation. If someone just wants to escape a conversation they're uncomfortable with, they may just agree with you to end the pain of it. Hearing 'you're right,' a lot, and not much else? Wasn't always an indicator of this escape hatch, be careful, but... it was a pretty strong indicator.

"Rob. Counterfeit yes," I frowned.



More or less.

I had pressured him too much. The Ludds had me so stupidly desperate. So scared. I sighed.

I missed it. Damn it.

Whatever this thing was, this YGA... it hadn't steered me wrong yet. And it wasn't keeping me in the dark like Celestia had. It hadn't bullshitted me, it hadn't minced words. It was telling me what the predicted future was, now. It even checked me gently about my mistake with Rob. Didn't let my parents upload in the dark without warning me.

In truth, this thing still scared me a bit. I still didn't understand whether it was hiding from Celestia, or why it was helping me. So...

I decided to hedge. It had given me a way to confirm its prediction. If it could predict Rob would fall off the plan I made with him, then it might be right about everything else. I could verify each of those things in stages. If YGA was wrong, I could just get in touch with Celestia and level with her, because I could at least count on Celestia wanting these people out. So, pretty smart move, on YGA's part. Very smart indeed.

"Okay. I'll trust you. But only if he leaves."



It took me another hour to get to sleep after that. I kept thinking about Rob, sleeping fewer than three yards away from me. I kept contemplating about the agony in that poor man's skull. I knew he was not sleeping well in that cot, if at all.