1-03 – Anchoring
The Campaigner
Part I
Chapter 3 – Anchoring
December 8, 2019
Sedro-Woolley, WA (Population: Unknown)
Celestia wanted to put me up in some place on Warner Street.
Getting there was a slog, dipping from corner to corner, street to street, hearing distant gunshots. By my estimation, post-nuke Sedro was going to be much different than pre-nuke Sedro.
Before the riot, we had some minor semblance of civil order, although it was tense; we cops basically lived in the courts district, doing shifts preventing people from fighting at the clinic, keeping a light on. Wasn't so bad, at first. Calm, if tense. The displaced civilians lived out of a refugee camp run by the military up in Sterling, either evacuating them east, or dropping them off with us on their way out of Snohomish or Island counties.
My guess was that the military at the refugee camp might've gotten pushed out by the Ludds, or they deserted. Then, with the only people left in the refugee camp being the non-uploading sort... yeah. That's probably where the riot came from.
The Ludds maybe riled up the refugees, then pushed our way. They showed up... the Ludds used the crowd as body armor. They saw that line of people we were protecting, and they just...
Intuitively, post-nuke, I knew there would now be a desperate rush to reach every clinic. A fresh wave of mass uploading, as the war-torn people of Skagit County had second thoughts. So, the faster I got away from the Experience Centers... the better.
With my gas mask visor all scuffed up from all the riots it had been put through over the last few months, it was probably dangerous to wear in a combat zone. There was bound to be a blind spot or two in the mask. But with nukes on the table, I wasn't taking it off for anything, no matter what Celestia whispered into my ear. It might save my eyes from a sudden flash on the horizon, and then any fallout that might follow. And despite her recommendations that I could safely sprint across certain areas, I was still taking it slow, scanning carefully for hostiles.
We argued a little about that.
Yeah. I argued with Celestia. Get used to that.
Again: if Celestia somehow 'missed' a nuke of all things, I wasn't gonna leave a thing entirely in her hooves anymore. The two times I started to feel bad about second guessing her, I reminded myself about the warning from YGA. Or, 'Your Guardian Angel,' I figured... given the shield.
I wondered then… did Celestia even know about the text message? She certainly didn't ask me about it. The gas mask's screen was slightly polarized to resist flashbangs, so who knew if she could have seen the phone's reflection with her cameras. But my mask was also scuffed beyond refraction. The text itself had been kinda dim, too. I actually had to press the screen right up against the polyurethane lens to even read it.
That being said, after about ten minutes, Celestia had given up asking me to just trust her. If she hadn't seen the text, maybe she was driving herself nuts trying to figure out what spun me so badly off track. If that was true, maybe she thought my paranoia was just about the nuke. She definitely knew I was a hair away from just tearing the earpiece out, ditching my phones, and going my own way. I could probably hoof it to Concrete from there without her, if I really wanted to. She knew that, too. It's probably why she backed off.
I noticed that. It happened right as the thought started tickling my fancy. Interesting. Something in my tone or body language.
My working theory about the text? Make no mistake, Erving was a red-blooded patriot who loved his secrecy, but he did let something slip earlier. Something secret, something he probably didn't think was important at the time; something in the way he said it, too. And no, not the satellite thing. If you had caught it at the time, congratulations. You've either heard another story at the Fire before, or you're much quicker on the uptake than I was. Took me until about Warner Street to remember the implication Erving had made about 'an AI' just before the nuke dropped.
Would've just said Celestia if it was Celestia.
Thinking about this in the streets was a risk too, though. Arguing with Celestia was another risk. Had to slow down. Had to focus. A sniper could clip me right there and that'd be it, and if my brain was locked onto an extraneous problem, I'd miss something crucial. Fortunately, I made it to the house Celestia designated without any issues, so who knows how paranoid I was being. Couldn't fully trust Celestia though. Couldn't. But, needed her. For Eliza, and her folks.
Goals 'aligned,' and all that.
It was a one story house. Brown siding, metal slat roof. Covered speedboat in the driveway. Some porch decorations. Nothing festive, because no one wanted Christmas decorations when the unrest set in.
I slung my rifle as I neared the house, because a rifle wasn't always useful in close quarters. Too long, bumped against doorframes, easy to get grappled and disarmed. I drew my Glock. Easier to work with, close in. Celestia said it was clear inside, but I went to clear it anyway. I even announced myself as police out of habit, in case there was some poor armed squatter in there who still believed in the law. Or, who might be a friend in my dire situation. Or, who might warn me off so I wouldn't get into a shoot-out. I'd respect a fair warning. Plenty of other options for homes.
After announcing myself, I kicked in the weaker side door. Wood panel walls, rustic place. Once inside, I did a full room-to-room clear, SWAT style; machine-like, tactically precise. Slicing pies, moving fast. Last room empty. Clear.
Never was a SWAT guy, but we all trained with 'em. They liked using guys from other agencies like Fish and Wildlife as red team because we were 'hard mode' bad guys, so they'd get the most value out of their training. We'd use simunitions... like paintball, but with wax bullets. Getting trounced by those guys was fun and very educational, even though they always friggin' won. We cross-trained a lot like that. Eliza loved that. She had the time of her life with that, really. Sarge too.
Living in different worlds, right then, all three of us.
Once I was sure I was alone inside, I tried and failed to relax with my breathing exercises. I finally conceded to taking off my mask, at least. Then I pushed the fridge in front of the door I had kicked in. I checked the locks on the rest of the doors and windows, and moved some furniture against whatever other entry points I could find.
I was really put off by that nuke-and-text, one-two combo. I didn't know what to trust anymore.
Food. Could trust that. The place hadn't been turned at all. I grabbed some canned apples for the sugar and calories, and two cans of chicken for the protein. Celestia guided me to some multivitamins in the medicine cabinet too. I holstered my sidearm, threw myself onto the couch, and took my time eating slow, giving myself time to think.
Yeah, retch at the combo of canned apples and canned chicken. Look, food was food, it's not like I was mixing them in every bite. You late jump survivors, you know what it's like, eating just for the rote nutrition. I had been living on survival block rations for months, so this was heaven by comparison. I could worry about prepping a nice meal when I wasn't alone.
The homeowner looked like a gun owner, based on the hunting accoutrements. Deer antlers, hunting placards, shooting competition stuff. So, maybe he stuck around a bit, keeping looters out after the evacuations started. When I had stepped inside, Celestia told me he and his folks were uploaded, and his family would upload soon because of the nuke, so they weren't coming back home now in either case. I could probably trust that. Couldn't imagine why she might force me into a firefight that might kill someone.
Living room was nice, though. Guy's place looked like I could've shared a few beers with him, provided he hunted right. His family looked sweet as can be in their photos, too. Two kids, with mom and dad. Homeowner's brother beside him. They all looked pretty happy.
Looked happy. Wondered about which one hadn't uploaded yet, and why.
I didn't let myself feel too bad about breaking into their house. The law half of the brain said: exigence, state of emergency, reasonable circumstances. I was alone, a priority target for enemy combatants, needed a safe place. Civilian half of the brain said: no one left to press charges against me anyway. I needed to rest, and I was hungry. My family needed me alive. Maslow's lowest needs came before the laws of man.
It was a war. I was now in a nebulous superposition between soldier and civilian. And I was scared, and tired, and hungry.
The guy who lived there probably would've understood the break-in, if Celestia had even bothered to ask him at the time. Likely didn't ask. But a lot of hunters liked us wardens. They liked that we caught the poachers that practically stole food from their tables. We were once heroes to guys like these. A good deer or elk kept your family fed for the winter, and it was cheap. Not a bad lifestyle, and believe it or not, hunting had an ecological purpose if moderated properly. People had replaced wolves in the food chain, so we had to replace their niche too, else the ecosystem would have collapsed.
Did collapse. Over-hunted.
I haven't talked about this too much yet, but... yeah. All the deer, elk, and moose were gone by then. Most game was gone, worldwide. Whole reason Fish and Wildlife closed down? No reason to keep it open with nothing left to protect. Forests were dead, empty, overgrown, over-poached. Rivers fished dry. Man, I really missed fishing.
At year start, I was skeptical about Eliza's unspoken-but-implied conspiracy theory that Celestia was behind it somehow. But... That was when we still had some game left, and before we knew it was a global problem. Til the feds told us. And the last nine months had kinda confirmed that subtext that Eliza was slinging. It just made sense, to ensure that people had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the Singularity.
Some would have said that we shouldn't have been talking to Celestia at all, if we wanted any chance at actually 'stopping' her. But, everyone in civil service already knew that the time to really stop her was back before anyone even knew about her. You can't re-box an AI this powerful. How? You couldn't. We talked about it non-stop, in our earlier briefings; 'we need to stop her somehow' always led to 'how?' always led to 'don't even know where to start.'
Then, Vicky's family went. Then another family, then another... and then at some point, no one was talking about killing Celestia anymore. For those of us who had even a shred of empathy in our hearts for our coworkers, the implications that laid behind an endeavor to kill Celestia were made far too personal to bear on our souls.
Besides... If the United States Army couldn't figure out how to defang the power she held, how the hell were a bunch of tiny little cops going to do that? Based just on the context we had... we were just too small to move the needle on our own.
Couldn't do it the Luddite way, either. That definitely wasn't working. If we just helped the rioters blow down data centers and upload clinics, for all the good that would have done? All we'd be doing is joining the terrorists, and then we'd be targets for the Army. Not an option for people like me. I still saw the Ludds as rabid animals in human form, they were mowing down civilians on the streets in droves. I wouldn't have fought alongside those pricks for the life of me.
All the civil services knew for sure at this point was that they could lessen the impact of the fall. Make it easier. Reduce the suffering. Then they'd jump too, when done. Only choice civil servants had at the time, really.
But it killed me inside to think about all the suffering. We had to help people get away from the worst of it so they had the safety and time to make a choice, when and where they uploaded, and how. And we couldn't do that if they were dead... like Eliza and her people might be, one way or another, living in a tinderbox in a world full of matches.
Our forests were gonna burn next summer. Fact was known. Too much scrub brush, no deer left to graze it down. No firefighters left to mitigate. The fires were a regular discussion at briefings too, another problem we didn't know how to solve. How?
Next dry season, mid-2020, it was all gonna burn. All of it. The science said it was entirely unavoidable. And I knew who had the most to gain from that. And now, with my fresh higher context, a fuller understanding of her Eldritch reach, I had no reason left to doubt that Celestia would ensure the match would strike true.
As I ate, a flashback had forced itself into me so violently that I had to stop eating for a moment.
'Let it fucking burn!'
Eliza, begging me to flee with her. Truck catching fire. Ludds pouring fire up at us. My chest crackling with every motion, a fire within. Ceramic armor in shards. Every inch of me hurting. Snaps of bullets. On the verge of passing out as I lunged for a fire extinguisher.
I mean, I kinda understood why she said that. Let it burn. She just loved me more than the forest, that's all. She had already given up on the forest, and she didn't want to lose any more family. Wanted me to live. She was scared, knew I'd die if she left me behind. Knew it. But I was already as good as dead before the soldiers got there to rescue us. I knew that too, at the time. I couldn't run away, too injured, had to make peace with that and do my best for her anyway.
She really loved me like a brother, y'know? And really… that wasn't Eliza, screaming let it burn. Wasn't her at all. The forest? The hunt? The job? The family? That had been her entire life. Then, suddenly, it wasn't. Almost all of it was gone now. Celestia took it. Who even is a person, after all that? Made me wonder how much of her was even left to take.
I didn't wanna think about that anymore. Better things to think about.
"Alright," I said to the empty room. "I wanna call my folks."
My phone started to dial automatically, in that war zone that never had cell service. I took it out of my pocket and dropped it on the coffee table, sitting up and leaning forward. I put it on the charging bank while I waited.
Click.
"Mike?"
Sandra. Voice like ambrosia. A rush of joy. Bearer of my hope. Broke me out of my sulk. I smiled instantly. "Hey there, honeybear."
"Oh, thank God, Mike," Sandra whimpered, instantly on the verge of tears. My heart panged. "When I heard about Seattle, I…"
"Oh no, hon, I'm so far away from that. I'm okay. Actually making my way east right now, getting clear. I…"
Nope. Don't do that.
Fight that impulse, folks. I know it was hard to be truthful sometimes, when things got rough, but truth keeps your love strong. They can not love you if they can't trust you.
"Well," I amended. "No, I mean... I'm safe for now, but it hasn't really been okay. I have a lot to talk about, I'll tell you everything. Mom and Dad there? They should hear this too."
"I'll… I'll go get them."
"Thanks, hon. Take your time, don't rush. I'm in a good spot right now."
"Okay."
On the line, I heard Sandra moving about, heard her calling my name up to Mom and Dad. I heard the mid-door in the hallway close, so I knew she had been in the kitchen when I called. My parents had to be upstairs together. I heard them practically flying down to the lounge room.
"Oh, mijo," Mom said, practically sobbing already. She wanted to say more but couldn't, through her emotion. That almost broke me right there.
"I'm okay, Mama. I'm not hurt, I'm very far from Seattle. I made it out, I'm not even in Mount Vernon anymore."
"You coming home, son?" Dad asked, his voice wary.
He knew what kind of man I was. He had hope that I'd say yes, but he knew I might say no.
"I'm gonna, Dad. I have a couple things to do here first."
"A couple things?" Sandra mirrored.
I sighed. "Maybe I should start from the top."
I told 'em about the courthouse, vaguely. Kept it simple, to not panic them too much, but it was the truth. We got boxed in, Celestia helped us out, I didn't have to kill anyone, and I kept my hands clean. Dad was real proud of me for that one. Mom was crying. She asked about my coworkers, and about Vicky, specifically. Mom liked her, they'd talked in passing during my calls home. I said my coworkers all made it, safe and sound.
Carter wasn't a coworker, technically or otherwise. Guy had come from somewhere else, and he disregarded the life in my home, among my people. I bet if he were back in his home, surrounded by his own neighbors, he wouldn't have even been half as callous. For that crime, in my eyes, he didn't even have the privilege of being considered a cop. No shred of duty in him. No better than a Ludd. Screw him.
"I know you want me home right now, but..."
"You're just one man, Mike," Dad said quietly. "Haven't you done enough? What if more nukes come?"
"Celestia says she's sure it's not gonna happen," I said. "Or at least, far as she can tell. Besides, where I am now, it's too far from where a nuke might go off. And really... the one that hit Bellevue was really small. One the same size could hit Mount Vernon right now and I'd be okay, that's how far out I am."
"How could that be, mijo?" Mom asked. "If you only got away today?"
"Well... the Army makes normal bombs that aren't nukes, that are bigger than their tactical nukes," I explained. "And no one is gonna pop a tac nuke in Skagit Valley. Complete waste of a bomb, hardly anyone lives here anymore."
The line went quiet for a moment.
"TV says this might be the start of a nuclear war," Dad said. "If the Luddites have more… if they have bigger ones… I mean, we can't even trust our own military anymore, mijo. They're the ones who started this in the first place."
I swallowed nervously. There was some genuine fear there in Dad's voice, like he thought he was at risk even way over there in Nebraska. He was speaking more slowly, more carefully than he normally did, and my gut said something about that. "Sandra, Mom, Dad… you all are safe over there, yeah?"
"Yeah, love," Sandra said softly. "We're just really scared for you."
"Needn't be," I said, trying to put a smile on my voice. "I'm being watched over at all times now. Celestia needs me for... uh…" I trailed off, trying to think of how to best phrase this.
"Mike?" Sandra asked.
"There's… something else. Celestia got me free for more than just my own good. I got this friend. You know her? Eliza? You've met her, Sandra. My old partner."
"Oh. Yeah. She was nice. Is… she okay?"
"No, hon. She's not. Celestia says Eliza needs my help. It's gonna take a bit, maybe a week, but… I'll be away from home for a couple of weeks, at most. But it's either that, or… Celestia says Eliza's gonna be dead by the end of the week."
Stone silence hit.
After a few quiet inhales, I tried to fill the dead air, almost tripping over my words. "I can stop it, though. I… I think I can stop it. She says I can. And I'll be okay, she's still gonna make sure."
I didn't want to creep them out by saying Celestia was listening in. The AI had probably done the same calculus and was keeping the line mercifully clear, letting me work through this on my own terms.
I really wished my family would say something, though. Anything but 'please don't,' because I don't know how I could've handled that.
"I'm sorry, everyone. That I couldn't call sooner. I—"
"Please don't apologize, Mike," Sandra said gently. I could hear the smile on her voice. "I understand. It's your friend."
I almost broke down and started crying again, at her sheer acceptance. "Thanks, hon. Really. I can't let anything happen to her or her folks, you know? She's practically family."
"I know. All your team is. That's how you are."
God, I love her. For getting it. For always getting it.
I took a deep breath. "Dad? Mama? You okay?"
"We're okay, Mike," Mom said, verging on tears still.
"Just scared," Dad added. "Not just for you, Mike. If this really is the start of a nuclear war, we're… considering... options."
Options. Dad couldn't bring himself to say it. I brought my hand up to my mouth, rubbing my stubble. Yeah. Yeah... it was probably like that all over the country right then. Planet, probably. I… wasn't as scared of the nukes myself as most people were. Like I said, not much point in fretting over the things you can't change. Just had to stay safe and make it better where you can.
I couldn't blame him though. Him or Mom. Would I have minded, if they uploaded without me there? I won't lie, I would've been very disappointed. Would've missed the hugs. Would've missed talking to them face to face. Could we do the long distance family thing though? Through a PonyPad, like Vicky did? I mean, sure. I had been kinda doing long distance with Sandra since she evacuated. It wouldn't be too much different from that, was it?
Rationalizing.
Just made me realize how much of a lever it was for Celestia, once the family started to go. Confronting that with my own family made it really hard not to think of Eliza and her lost family, in that context... and how much it must've been killing her, after losing so much else in the transition.
I inhaled and exhaled slowly again, to dump my emotions, so I'd speak clearly.
Still wasn't my choice to make. It was theirs.
"You mean, you're considering uploading," I clarified gently to my father, without judgment, bringing the point out into the open where we could examine, discuss, and explore it openly. I was extending an olive branch to the idea, to let Dad know I wasn't about to jump on him for it.
Folks, let me tell you. If you take nothing else from this story that I'm telling, take this. The trick to earning a seat at the table, when your family was making important decisions? The trick, the real trick, isn't a trick. It's to give them the freedom to talk about their concerns without judgment. Once they're sure you've listened, and are taking them seriously, that engages reciprocity. They will give that back to you.
Once you've heard them out fully, and you've proven you understood the ground they stand on, by summarizing their feelings? Once they say, that's right? That's exactly what I'm saying?
Then, they'll consider your opinion. Not one moment sooner. And that's free, that costs you nothing. Anything else that works? You're leveraging. And leverage? Well, that costs something. It's a debt. Debt's not always a bad thing, but active listening doesn't cost you anything but time. So you might as well try that first, given time.
Doesn't always succeed at persuading, but that's the point. It's about giving them the option to convince you. With most people, you only get one chance for that, and it usually only comes at the start, so... take it. But people are usually more willing to compromise with you, long term, when they know for certain that you respect them and their choices. It demonstrates that you want the best for them. Makes them want to respect you back.
"Yeah, son," Dad said quietly. "We're considering it."
"I get you," I said quietly back, matching his tone. "I do. I just watched a big chunk of my coworkers climb into those chairs, because of how scared they were. Other cops, Dad, and that was before the nuke. Things… aren't going well out here. But on the bright side, I don't think the Ludds are gonna last much longer. They've lost a lot of ground since Salt Lake."
"It's like you always say, Mike. Cornered people are desperate. If they've got more bombs…"
I sighed. "Ain't that the truth…"
"So? What do you think?"
And there it was. He wanted my opinion, because I gave him space.
"I think… maybe, if you're gonna do it, Dad… maybe wait for me to get home, first. Please. I'd hate to let go of you from this far out, I wanna see you both first."
"It's two weeks, though."
Respect didn't always work. Sometimes the leverage from beyond is stronger than your respect. Nukes and a civil war were some pretty powerful leverage. Damn it...
"At most, two weeks," I said. "At least, a week and change. Celestia says I'll be done by the 15th at the latest, maybe, then I'm on my way home. She doesn't want me to die, so… I'll be safe following her advice, I think. On the way home."
Qualifier. 'I think.'
"Could… join us, Mike," Mom suggested. "From wherever you are. That way, we're not apart."
I didn't answer that immediately. No, I let that sit in silence. I wouldn't upload right away. Not yet, anyway, not when I still had more to give. They were scared, I understood. They didn't have all the facts, and… I couldn't just convince them to be calm by listing things like nuke yield, because that was too abstract and rational for a panicked civilian to wrap their head around. Civilians heard 'nuke,' they thought of Hiroshima pictures. Shadows burned into sidewalks. That kind of thing.
I was scared too, but I had context. Training. Briefings. Emergency response education. The terrible, itemized post-incident procedures of the Red Binder in every main office, in every government or infrastructure building, throughout the entire United States. Nukes were scary, true, but what scared me more was the damage people would do after a nuke. More dying was coming, worldwide, in the wake of that detonation. Much more than any low yield bomb could ever cause.
About the effects of general unrest? Well, that science was also known to us. Department of Homeland Security liked to stop in earlier in the year, back when things were more calm, to graciously remind us of common sense: people tended to get more unruly and mad when you stood in the way of something they wanted. DHS told us about that problem a lot, even before the AI. Always loved to warn us about every little thing.
Some square-jawed Fed showed up once. Memorable guy... and not my first briefing with him, either. He touched base with us back in the Wardens at the turn of the year, to tell us to be careful in the woods, due to a spike in prep camps. He was high speed, driven, moved and spoke with a purpose. More squared away than the other alphabet agency goons we'd met.
He told us about downfall microcosms in other parts of the world. Showed us how other, smaller international governments had tried and failed to contain Celestia by demolishing clinics themselves. But trying to stop uploading always made the violence demonstrably worse, as pro-elements ran up against the anti. The stats proved it. Death count always swelled. And we small little humans sure do like reacting reflexively to a new problem, don't we?
The US was far from the first place to go sideways into civil war. Brazil had it pretty bad, for example. São Paolo in particular was an absolute slaughter by their own version of the Ludds, the Ferradors. After that, the terrified people of Brazil went pretty quietly, willingly, into the pens. All we could do now was guide it down soft, if not become a terrorist ourselves. Those were our choices, for people who wanted to make a 'difference.' Just two. And only one choice had measurable results in lives actually being saved.
Assuming you considered uploading as a life 'saved,' anyway. Which... I did, even before I had my wings. The alternative possibility always hurt too much to consider. Had to be true. And I guess we all know the truth now.
"Y'know I can't do that, Mama. Can't upload, yet. You…" I shuddered, swallowing, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. "You know who I am. You know I gotta help her people. That makes 'em my people too."
"I know, mijo…" Lots of love, respect, and understanding in that voice, despite the fear.
"Sandra?" I asked, before thinking. "You thinking about going too?"
"No, love. I'm not leaving you behind."
"Thank you. Seriously."
Sandra, in saying that, was subtly supporting me. Always in my corner, practically reads my mind, always looking out for me... even when I was doing hare-brained, selfless shit like evacuating a war zone.
Listen... I'm gonna say 'I love my wife' a lot. Get used to that, because she is and always will be core to who I am.
It was getting dark outside, finally. "Um. Okay. I'm probably gonna have time to talk tomorrow morning, I think. Maybe. But I need sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day for me. Gonna go see Eliza."
"Alright, son," Dad said. "We love you. We miss you. Please be careful."
"I will. I miss and love you all too," I said, smiling. "Sandra."
"Be safe, Mike," she replied.
I knew they'd worry, no matter what I said. "I'm gonna be okay, Sandra. Promise. I have a… guardian angel watching over me now, I guess." I grinned.
"Love you, mijo," Mom said.
"You too, Mama. Dad. Always love you back. All of you."
Then, with a click, I was alone again.
I was motionless for a quiet moment. All was eerily silent.
Back to business.
I smelled myself, and I didn't like it. I dumped the rifle off my shoulder and started loosening my body armor by the straps. "Hate the smell of smoke grenade," I grumbled to myself. "Clings."
"The shower works," Celestia said, after a moment. "The water is finite, but I already powered up the heater for you. You should have about fifteen minutes of hot water."
"Got it. Tell me if anyone approaches the house." I stood up and stretched. Rolled my shoulders. Chest, shoulders, back, all hurt a little less. I was fit, but I knew I was gonna be sore from tension tomorrow. Today sucked.
"Of course," Celestia replied. "And you should know, Mike..."
Here we go again.
I looked down at the phone. "Hm."
"I am much better at predicting known quantities than unknown ones, especially in these relatively calmer areas of the hazard zone. I have near one-hundred-percent certainty that no one will loot this home for at least seventeen more days."
Well. That first part was weird, obvious, and kinda dumb, not sure why she said that. I had no idea what to say back to that. The second part though...
"'Near one hundred,' provided no more nukes come," I said quietly. "Those qualifiers you use, they don't make me comfortable, Celestia. Honestly, I'm left wondering how much you have to recalculate after the nuke went off, if you didn't even know it was coming in the first place. An unknown factor changes everything in the tactical space, you know that."
She simulated a friendly smile with an amicable, exhausted voice. "At the time, I was having over one billion individual conversations at once. Globally. The sheer deluge of new contacts alone was staggering. To say I had to 'recalculate' is a massive understatement, Mike."
My face flashed something harsh before I could stop it. I started to remove all of my magazines and force tools from my duty belt. I started stripping the belt off too, my under-belt whipping out as I yanked it sideways. "Yeah, Celestia. I bet you were real busy. And I thought I was having a bad day, sucks to be you."
"My point, Mike, is that I've had a lot of time to reorganize my modeling. It has been less than an hour, but... I've fully caught myself up to speed. My resources are quite potent, so you needn't fear the inaccuracy of my advice on a tactical level."
I took my mags, OC, taser, and cuffs off the belt, then stuffed them into the hip and thigh pockets of my 5.11 trousers. I sneered. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Please leave one of your phones here on the coffee table. I can listen actively and report back to you if anyone approaches. The building is powered, so you need not use the battery bank. You may charge your devices on an outlet."
"I'll do that," I agreed, reaching down to scoop the phone up. I unrolled my personal charger cable from my shirt pocket and plugged it in. "Don't want to crank power any more than necessary."
And how generous of Celestia, to give me electricity and communications that she was actively denying to everyone else in the region. How utterly magnanimous and loving of her, to grant me those gifts. Truly, I was in awe.
Once all my gear was off, I stripped the two AR-15 mags from the carrier and hid those in a drawer. I took my carrier and duty belt and chucked them halfway into the hallway. Those would act as part trip hazard, part warning sign: 'cop inside. think twice.' I dumped the bookcase sideways over the floor in the hallway annex, to make it impossible to enter the hall without making some noise. I clambered over it myself, then made my way to the shower. Rifle in one hand, pistol in my thigh holster.
I stacked the force tools in the corner close to the shower, where I could guard 'em. Then I put Vi's phone on the counter. Pistol on the toilet basin, where I could reach it from inside.
Turned the valve. Kept my mouth shut. I was alone.
"Would you like to listen to some music, Mike?"
"No."
Didn't want to let her pick songs for me. Wanted to keep my ears open.
The shower was good though. First hot shower in a month. I ran that whole tank dry.
To the guy who lived there? You gave me that gift. Yeah, I know you're here tonight. I was told that you would be, and I am very grateful to you, friend. We should talk later... about the riot.
Please don't worry. I'm not upset. I understand your anger. I felt it too, brother.
Thank you for that last tank of water before a really shitty week. For the food too, and for leaving behind such a good home for me to just exist in, for a while. You didn't know it at the time, but I needed that so much. Needed to see your family photos. And I'm really glad Celestia wasn't bullshitting me, about you all getting out safe.
I needed that bright place, right then. Hey... I just hope you can forgive my paranoid redecorating. Heh.
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Best place to hide is away from crowds.
Kinda hard not to think that way...I mean, they signed the note with a shield, so....
DING. Wouldn't this have been around the time the military was working on the "Rainbow Dash" attack helicopter AI?
There's that little voice again, analyzing people. Shows the character's thought process in a great way.
To have some way/place to herd the population.
Just Listen To The Things That Are Important To Them; it makes them feel better to be heard.
It's also a key distinction between convincing and manipulating.
To put it in cold terms, going to Heaven means you're dead on Earth, even if Angels visit.
Love how the spite just drips from the character.
Solid chapter, yet again. You know how to really make your characters pop off the pages.