Lacy and I shared a look that would be charitably described as ‘No shit’ looks. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but the annoyance must have been plain as day, because Michelle pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at us.
“By your expression, I’m guessing you have some thoughts. Please, don’t stand on circumstance. I want to hear them.”
Lacy turned to me expectantly and I shrugged and took up the challenge.
“Well, I’ll be frank, Michelle. But no fucking duh.” Her expression was stiff, but a fire lit behind her eyes. I didn’t care. “The very first message we received from these ‘aliens’ stated as much. This isn’t an introduction to the Integrated Universe. This is a gauntlet, and the winner takes all. To be honest, even if humanity survives this Integration, I don’t know that we’ll come out of it resembling anything close to what we were.”
She looked off into the distance, a thoughtful expression on her face. When she turned back, I could see the weary resignation in her eyes.
“I hear you,” she eventually replied. “But ultimately, your opinion doesn’t matter.” I bristled at that, but she held up her hands and spoke quickly. “Mine doesn’t either. The men in charge call the shots. And they’re convinced these demons are easily dealt with by bullets, tanks, and jets. Convincing them otherwise is an uphill battle.”
“With all due respect,” Lacy said, “the imps ain’t shit compared to the other races in the Tower. And that’s not even mentioning the threat from our own people.” Her voice took on a heavy tone. “Craig Allen being the worst of them.”
Michelle reared back at that.
“Explain.”
I chewed my lip, trying not to fidget just thinking about the man.
“He’s got mind control abilities,” Lacy explained. “We’ve seen firsthand that he can take over a person and work them like a puppet. He has a subtler form, too, where you don’t even know what thoughts are yours and what he’s implanted.”
“Like a Kilgrave?” she asked.
“Whoa,” I replied. “Wasn’t expecting you to reference a Marvel comic villain. But yes, pretty much like that.”
“Can you prove it?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but more fact finding. It still made me feel a bit defensive.
“We have firsthand testimony,” Lacy said. “But no, we can’t prove it, exactly.”
Michelle nodded, turning to look out the front windshield.
“Let’s table that topic for now. We’re almost there.”
As the convoy pulled up to the capitol building, it really struck me how many guards and security checkpoints there were. Of course, we’d snuck in during the last redo using Lacy’s powers, but it just hit different when there were fifty marines with rifles eye-fucking you like they just needed a reason.
Despite that thought, we made it through the building without incident and straight to a very familiar office door. Two Secret Service agents that I recognized from before were standing attentively outside, while soldiers roamed throughout the halls.
When we reached the door, the Secret Service agents stupidly insisted on frisking us without even questioning the existence of our Inventory. The soldiers at the first checkpoint were much savvier in that regard. I made a mental note to remind Michelle after the meeting.
The agents let us inside and there was the governor behind his desk, a welcoming smile on his face.
I’d never met the man in person—he’d been in D.C. the last time we’d visited. But I’d seen him enough on the TV to know what he looked like. Still, the reality of seeing him in person struck me for some reason.
He was a heavyset man, with thinning white hair and jiggling jowls for cheeks. He was the kind of douche bag who wore his gaudy alumni ring from some Ivy League like it was a badge of intelligence and class, while simultaneously proclaiming himself a man of the working folk. From the times I’d heard him speak, he preferred sound bites and gotchas over substance and rarely said anything heartfelt or of note.
I desperately hoped that was his politician facade.
“Mr. Damascus—Dirk, may I call you Dirk? Please, come in.” His eyes trailed over Lacy, tracking from her chest up to her face—almost like an afterthought. The thought of pulling out a baseball and pegging him between the eyes with a [Sticky Fingers] fastball was almost overwhelming.
Thankfully, he dismissed Athena with a flick of his eyes, rather than the lecherous look he gave Lacy. That would have been too much, even for the new, more diplomatic, me.
His look didn’t escape Michelle’s notice, who put a calming hand on Lacy’s shoulder.
“This is Lacy Wu, governor.”
He nodded absentmindedly. “Ah, yes, Ms. Wu. Welcome to the capitol.” He turned back to me, dismissing her in an instant. Coming around the desk, he shook my hand and held the grip as he spoke. “Dirk, my boy, it’s an honor to meet the man leading humanity into that Godforsaken Tower. Your name at the top of the Leaderboard is an inspiration to us all. Put those damn aliens on notice, you did. Humans are the superior race and we have you to thank for demonstrating that.”
A strange repulsion rose up inside of me. A distant memory clawing its way up from the depths of a long-forgotten time. A similarly corpulent man shaking a younger Dirk’s hand and thanking him for winning Olympic gold in Beijing.
“A credit to American superiority,” the president had said all those years ago.
I didn’t have the maturity at the time to understand just how xenophobic that statement had been. It was a different time back then, but at worst, it was a disgusting statement. What Johnson was saying now wasn’t just ignorant—it was dangerous.
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“Thank you, governor. But to be honest, the Jree and the Co’xatl are not to be taken lightly. They’re stro—”
“Nonsense,” he said dismissively, waving his hand. “Humans occupy the top two slots and with a comfortable margin, too.” Before I could point out that Craig and I were on an island surrounded by the other two races, he turned to Lacy. “And you, Ms. Wu. Top 100, I’m told. Quite impressive.” For some reason, I felt the unsaid words at the end of that sentence: ‘Quite impressive, for a woman.’
Lacy being Lacy, she handled the dismissive undertone with grace.
“Thank you, governor. And please, call me Lacy.”
He nodded absentmindedly, walking over to a drink cart behind his desk. By my side, I felt Athena bristling, her face in a tight scowl—whether from his casual dismissal of Lacy or his complete disregard for her presence, I couldn’t say. I put a hand on her shoulder and her gaze shot toward me so violently I thought she was about to skewer me with her sword. But I gave her a calming look and a confident nod to remind her that I respected her, even if the governor didn’t. She nodded back, her face smoothing as she regained control.
“Drink, anyone?” Johnson asked. Lacy and I politely accepted, while Michelle declined. Once we had drinks in hand, he waved us toward the two chairs in front of his desk as he plopped into his. Athena looked annoyed that there wasn’t a third chair, but then spotted a couch and threw herself into it with a contented sigh. Michelle went around the desk and stood by Johnson’s side.
He took a slow sip of his whiskey, eyeing us over the rim of the glass. Lacy and I were both too seasoned to squirm and simply waited for him to make the first move.
After a long, drawn out staredown as he swirled the whiskey in his mouth, he finally swallowed it with a sigh of pleasure and a clicking of his tongue.
“I’ll cut right to it, then. Now that we’ve met, my doubts can be put to rest.” He leaned forward, his eyes clear and focused despite the whiskey. “I want you on my team, son.”
The intensity of his stare as he said those words made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t show it. I forced a chuckle. “Well, it’s always nice to be wanted.”
He nodded as if he had said the most natural thing in the world.
“We’ll need to do something about the hair,” Johnson said. “And the cape has to go.” Red woke up at that, a killing intent washing through my mind. I shoved her down with a distracted thought. Why was he talking about my hair? He continued on, oblivious to my confusion. “I’m guessing it’s one of those magic doohickeys that my people mentioned, but that doesn’t matter anymore. A haircut, new wardrobe, and a good makeup artist will work more magic than any alien gizmo.”
My mouth finally caught up with my brain. “Uh, governor…I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
A self-satisfied smile formed on his lips.
“It’s simple, Dirk. We’re gonna make you a star. And with you by my side, the presidency is all but guaranteed. And when I’m president…well, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”
My thoughts were a jumbled mess. President? Star? What the hell was he…
And then Michelle’s words from the car ride hit me.
She had laid it all out for me and I hadn’t taken it seriously. He wanted to parade me around like his pet Climber, using my visibility on the Leaderboard to raise his own stock.
“Governor, I think we’ve crossed wires,” I said. “I’m not interested in being famous or wading through the political quagmire. My only goal is to help humanity survive this Integration. I came here hoping to enlist your help in that regard.”
He nodded quickly, a sympathetic look on his face. It was bullshit, of course.
“Helping humanity is an admirable goal, son. And the best way you can do that is to unite us under a common leader.” He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers before him. “You see, the concept of nations is an outdated paradigm. With the reality of this alien invasion looming over us, now is the time to consolidate our strength. America is the obvious candidate to fold the other countries under our umbrella. Unless you want to be speaking Mandarin by Christmas.” He turned to Lacy. “No offense.”
Lacy narrowed her eyes in confusion, but had the good grace not to argue.
My first instinct was to disagree or point out that the last thing we needed was to get embroiled in conflict with other nations while the Tower loomed over us all. But I had to admit, the previous political structure of Earth had been broken before the introduction of the System. And from everything I’d heard, the Integrated Universe was a brutal and unforgiving place ruled by strength. What had Umndirop said to me when we’d made our alliance?
“You must make it your first priority to challenge these…democratic leaders for supremacy. A swift but fair execution will demonstrate your strength for all to see.”
Still, even if I agreed with Johnson, I adamantly disagreed that he was the one to lead us into that new paradigm. Before I could react, though, he dropped a bomb on us.
“Of course, I understand if you disagree. It’s only natural for a man with your…history, to buck against authority and the concept of governance. Shit, son, if I’d spent ten years in prison for what could only be described as doing humanity a favor, I’d be bitter, too. By all accounts, the man you murdered deserved it and worse.”
The blood rushed to my face, my nails digging bloody crescents in my palms. Before I even knew what I was doing, I kicked back the chair and bent over the desk to grab for the man’s tie.
I stopped cold once I noticed the perfectly calm image of myself still reclining in the chair, a wry—almost dismissive—smile on my face. On the couch, Athena was staring at me—the real me—then did a double take to the fake me on the chair.
I heard my voice coming from the image and my brain finally cleared enough to realize what was happening.
“If you think you can rattle me, governor, then you’ve obviously misjudged me,” the fake version of me said casually.
I looked at Lacy who was staring up at me from her chair, a chagrined expression on her face.
“Sorry, Dirk!” she said quickly. “I might have taken some liberties with your image once I realized where he was going.”
A heavy sigh left me unbidden, a weight sliding off my shoulders.
“Thanks, Lace. I definitely shouldn’t have lost my cool.” I glanced over toward Athena. “You good?”
She shrugged, then cast a scowl toward Johnson.
“That guy’s a dick.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” I replied with a chuckle. I took in a deep, calming breath, then reset the chair using Lacy’s illusion as a measure. Sitting back into it, the eerie feeling of ghosting into my illusion self unsettled me for a moment before the two of us aligned perfectly. “Okay, Lace, I’m good.”
She nodded and I massaged that same wry look across my face.
The governor had been saying something and I strained to process the words.
“My apologies for trying to push your buttons,” he had said. “I wanted to see how your composure held up under fire. The press are gonna try and gut you and I needed to know you had a steady hand.” He leaned back and took another sip of his whiskey.
I held my hand out level. Despite the adrenaline of my outburst pumping through my veins, my Agility was so high from my traits that my fine motor control was enough to aid my charade.
“They don’t make ‘em steadier than me,” I replied coolly.
He smiled and gave a pleased nod. “Good to hear, son. Good to hear.”
It was my turn to take the reins of the conversation. Despite getting caught off guard, I’d had my share of dick-measuring contests over the past week and I knew how to throw my weight around when needed.
“Now that we’ve established my steadfast nature, let’s cut through the bullshit.”
There was the slightest pinching at the corners of his eyes—barely perceptible without my heightened Perception.
“Please,” he said tightly.
“My value to you and your…campaign are obvious. My question to you is: what do I get out of it? Like I’ve said, I’m not interested in fame.”
His politician facade from earlier was erased in an instant and before me now was a businessman, through and through.
“Name your price.”