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Exhuman
311. 2252, Present Day. East Potomac Golf Course, D.C.. Athan.

311. 2252, Present Day. East Potomac Golf Course, D.C.. Athan.

Some things about the day might have seemed predisposed to sour one’s mood. Senator Idris had, for example, had gotten a call out of the blue from his estranged daughter and then presumably dropped or shuffled everything to accommodate her sudden demand to play a round of golf. When he joined her, he was surprised to find me along for the ride, and while she wasn’t in full battle regalia, her visor was still on, and all of the metaphors for hiding behind masks and how hunting was between the two of them with it.

Despite that, the man would not stop smiling. Even more than his usual effortless beaming, he was just apparently a happy old man, ready to play some golf with his little girl. It’d be cute if he hadn’t already basically tried to kidnap me for his own political ends once already.

“Why am I here again?” I hissed at her as we walked between holes — Idris had all the golf carts in the world, of course, but Karu had just strolled right past him as he climbed in to one and waited for us to join him.

“So that I have an excuse to not speak with him, obviously,” she said.

“But we’re here to speak with him.”

“Yes. But even so, if I am forced to do nothing but, I am liable to delve into fratricide. The man is unbearable.”

“Isn’t killing people who get in your way kind of your new thing?” I sniped at her.

She gave me a killing stare of her own, but said nothing. Which honestly kind of made me wonder how much she was joking, in a pants-shitting-realization kind of way.

We’d come up on the next tee now, and the whining of a motor behind us let us know that Idris had caught up, still smiling despite looking somewhat red in the passenger seat of his golf cart. As he stepped out, he hefted his own clubs and shooed his caddy away with the cart, the poor guy looking completely confused as he drove away.

“Wonderful day,” he said breathily. “Don’t you think, Karen?”

She glanced around disinterested. I thought it was pretty nice out, but without incoming missiles or sniper fire, Karu behind her visor probably saw very little of relevance.

“So. It was a surprise to receive your call,” he tried again. “Did I finally wear you down, my dear?”

“No,” she said simply, pulling a club out of the bag I had on my back and examining it like a weapon.

He shut up as she teed off, but once it was his turn, spoke freely and at length.

“You know, I tried everything to reconnect with you. It wasn’t easy, and admittedly, it hurt my pride a great deal. But some things are just more important than pride,” he said, glancing at her with his eyes twinkling.

“Save your empty words, father,” Karu said, tapping her visor. “I am well capable of monitoring your vitals for signs of deception, and have not yet stopped seeing them.”

“What?” he asked, the club falling dramatically out of his hands to bounce and spin to the grass. “Is a father not allowed to dote upon his only daughter?”

He took two steps and then reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned and stared at it. The two stood there for way too long before he finally removed the hand.

“So, uh,” I said, just now realizing that this whole scenario would be doomed without my intervention, perhaps already far too late. “Senator. We’re actually here to ask something of you.”

“He knows that,” Karu said. “We would not have reached out to him were that not the case.”

“Or, you might have just realized you have a father who loves you,” he murmured.

Karu gave one full-bodied laugh and then took a few steps away again. I was beginning to feel really bad for the old man.

“Um. So. Yeah. Maybe cut down on the antagonism, Karu?”

“Perhaps if he cuts down on this farce he is propagating.”

I sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. “Look, Senator, can we talk business for a minute here?”

“Talk away,” he said, turning back to pick up his club.

“Basically, we’re hunting a terrorist. An assassin. An all-around really unpleasant guy. He made some cryptic allusions and in chasing them down, we think there’s a possibility he’s putting money through businesses. Bribes and the like, probably.”

“Hmm,” he said, squaring up, his feet doing that funny golfer shuffle for a bit, before he whacked the ball with a tink and a whoosh. The three of us all watched it sail away into the distance. I didn’t even know what he was aiming at, but as Karu didn’t immediately give him any shit, I had to assume he hit it. “My boy, as much as I’d like to help with such a worthy cause, I must be clear. My first priority is to my daughter. I’ve neither seen nor spoken with her in months and wish to mend those fences before we embroil ourselves in intrigue.”

“In other words, tit-for-tat,” Karu commented as though he weren’t right there. “He won’t help you because you’re not helping him.”

He bristled, but it was only for a moment. “My dear, why do you constantly seek to poison the boy’s impression of me? I have been nothing but–“

“Manipulative?”

“–accommodating.”

I pulled the club out of Karu’s hands and she gave him one last glare before stomping off towards the next hole. The visor’s red glow seemed to match her face a lot better than the polo and skirt she was wearing. Idris and I just watched her go for a minute.

“I’m really sorry,” I said.

He sighed. “Don’t be, boy. I’m sure I’ve steered her wrong in life before now and am reaping what I’ve sown. I just wish I raised her to be a little less vindictive. She might have an incorruptible sense of morals, but that also means if she’s written you off, you’re dead to her.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “She could use some work in being more mentally flexible, that’s for sure. She won’t bend, so she breaks instead. Kind of a mess.”

“Has she broken?” he asked, his voice suddenly concerned, and I realized I’d said too much.

“Uh. Sure, on some things. You know how it is,” I laughed. You know how it is? What does that even mean?

“Hmm, I do,” he said, stroking his thick blonde mustache, but said nothing else as he went to follow Karu. I picked up on his heels, feeling like he’d seen through me far more than I’d ever actually said.

The next hole proceeded in very much the same fashion. And the one after. And the one after that. I was beginning to worry we would run out of golf before these two said or did anything, so I found a moment during our next walk to speak with Karu out of earshot.

“Karu, none of this is helping,” I said. “You’re being impossible to him.”

“It’s a game,” she laughed. “And you are losing, by the way.”

“Yeah. It’s golf.”

“Not that, imbecile,” she smiled. “Our spat. I wished you had kept your mouth shut, by telling Father what we want, you have given him much power over us. I could have used his curiosity and that information as leverage, but you offered it freely.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, her words all making sense, but none of what she was saying. “You guys are playing a game? Seriously?”

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“Perhaps battle is a more apt term. Games are typically for fun.”

“How do you…even know? Nobody’s playing anything that I can see. How do you win? Do you guys do this often?”

“So many questions,” she tutted. “The game, all are playing, at all times, Ashton. Life is a struggle, made of many smaller. When you need something and go to take it, the victory is when you have it in your hands. My father knows much about IkaCo, and if we want that from him, we must induce, cajole, or finagle.”

“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “Both of you. Just freaking ask.”

“You did that. Pray tell, what results did you garner?”

“He said he wanted to talk to you first, which you are not doing.”

“And if I gave him what he wanted, why would he make good on that offer? Why expend his resources and influence merely because his words indicated he would?”

“Because…uh…otherwise he’d be lying?”

“And?”

I blinked at her. Did she not understand the concept of lying or what the heck were we even discussing here?

“Karu, I have to level with you, I’m so lost.”

She laughed, the sound of it carrying well over the grassy hills and trees. “Ashton, the only harm in lying is to one’s reputation and how one is perceived. The man knows I think of him as garbage, and though you are naive to a fault, even you bear him ill regard after the stunt he pulled at Christmas. He has no reputation to uphold in this front. His word is valueless.”

We came up on the eighth hole, and after a moment, Idris caught up with us. By now, his cheer had plenty of opportunity to disintegrate into sort of a somber focus, mostly silence as he endured Karu’s judgement without argument.

“My apologies to eavesdrop, but I am not a man whose word is valueless,” he said, no smile on his lps. “I am a man of honor and repute, and there are thousands who would confirm it.”

“And thousands, many the very same, who know not how they have been swindled. The arrogance, to think you could pull the wool over the eyes of your own protege, as it were.”

“There is no wool, just a military visor,” he sighed.

“This,” she said, tapping it, “helps me to see clearly. It removes obstacles. It enhances detail. It provides information I know to be truth, and it does so without demand or recompense. Traits that if present in a person, would make me glad to associate with them rather than guarded.”

“Or paranoid,” he scoffed.

“Or bitchy,” I added. “Dude, Karu, what if your dad actually just genuinely wants to have a relationship with you? I mean, I know you thought it was cowardly of him to reach out to me instead of you over you two falling out, but the fact is he was reaching out, so obviously he cares.”

“Obvious, is it? And you could see no way that such an obvious ‘fact’ be a construction? My, how cheaply truth can be found these days. For the low cost of two phone calls, I can fabricate any truth I desire.”

“What, you think he called me just so I’d believe he’s a dad who cares?”

Her smug smile answered my question without a word.

“Look, there’s two options then. Either he’s a snake and doesn’t care and is just trying to use me to get to you, or he does care. But we’re talking a dad having a relationship with his daughter here, what possible motive could he have for being on speaking terms with you? Why the hell are you so dead-set on shutting him out? Neither of these scenarios ends with ‘and then he doomed them all’ or any shit like that. Either he talks to you, or he talks to you and legit cares. What’s the problem?”

“You,” she said, smiling as she pat me on the head like a dog “are demonstrating the problem aptly, my friend.”

“What?”

“What she means,” Idris explained “is that words have unlimited power. If you take her argument as truth that I’ve poisoned you with my venomous influence, you’ll note I did it with words alone. She feels if she ever opens up to me, I’ll have he wrapped around my finger, as I clearly have with you.”

“Why would you even say that?” I asked, flabbergasted. “If that were your whole plan, why would you explain it to me?”

“It sounds less damning coming from his lips than mine,” Karu shrugged.

“Or it is a falsehood I have no issue discarding,” he retorted.

“Or, it’s truth and by pretending to discard it, you merely embrace it further.”

Yeah the little headache I was nursing grew up fast into a strong, healthy full-blown one. This shit was maddening.

“Okay, enough of this crap,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose as my head pounded. “Apparently just talking doesn’t work, so let’s fucking deal. Idris, what do you want?”

“I want my daughter back. My little girl who used–“

“And what do we wish, Ashton?”

“Jesus, you’re cold,” I told her. “We want good access to someone with knowledge inside IkaCo. Someone who could help us chase down corruption. Someone not corrupt…hopefully.” I looked back and forth between the two blonde Irensides and found them both watching me carefully. I swallowed the lump in my throat and pressed on, feeling like everything I was saying and doing was just fuel for their stupid game, somehow. “So we just make an exchange, right?”

“Yes,” Karu said, turning on her dad. “A simple exchange. It should be no problem for one such as yourself. Wheeling and dealing all day, this is no different. So what say you?”

“I say, my dear, this is not a business negotiation. I’m not selling you into marriage for a head of cattle, I want you to be my daughter again.”

“Are our terms too steep then, Father?”

“It’s not about terms,” he barked. “It’s not about dealing, or trading, or manipulating. It’s about family, goddammit. It’s about realizing what you have after it’s gone but before it’s too late. It’s about trying to fix what you’ve done wrong. It’s not a negotiation.”

“When I was seven, I got a bad report from one of my tutors and you asked me what punishment I thought appropriate. I told you, and you laughed in my face, telling me that was a horrible bargaining position from which to start. Everything is a negotiation, Father. Those are your words.”

“When you are raising a child, perhaps, and want her to know how the world works!” he explained. “We are adults now. We are beyond such pettiness.”

“I am such pettiness. I was raised to be so.”

“Then I apologize for my failures as a parent,” he said. And somehow that line stopped Karu cold, stumped frowning under her visor.

Me, I had no idea what was going on or who was winning or what the fuck was even happening. But I saw Karu tensing and breathing again and knew she wasn’t ready to stop there.

“We have made clear what we desire. State your terms.”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms. “This is not a negotiation.”

“Then we have nothing to gain by being here.” She walked over to me and yanked the golf bag off my shoulder, throwing it to the ground with a clatter. “Until next time, Father. It has been a delight.”

“What can I say to make it work?” He asked her. “What can I do?”

“We have made our terms clear,” she crossed her arms.

“I meant, as a person. As a father.”

“Secure our meeting as a person. Call your contacts, as a father. I care not how you do it so long as it gets done.”

“Dude, Karu,” I murmured.

“Ashton, it is obvious to me he does not wish to do as we request. There is no merit to persisting.”

“Because you’re being a major bitch, maybe?”

“Or perhaps,” she wheeled on me, “because it is not a simple request. It is something which will take him effort or money or time or influence he would rather not spend, and disguises his reluctance under the guise of concerned fatherhood. It is obvious by his willingness to hear us out but not to act. If he cared merely about our reunion, then what we asked would be immaterial. But it is not, and therefore, he does not.”

Suddenly Idris snapped upright, ramrod straight, the same poise his daughter carried. Even if he wasn’t really bigger than me, he suddenly felt it.

“Now see here, Karen,” he snapped. “I am your father, and you will listen to me. I have been tolerant of the snide insinuations you have thrown at me all day, but this is beyond even what I can endure. Stand up straight, young lady!”

I saw her twitch as he yelled, remembered how he’d barked before at her and she’d jumped. But this time, she didn’t jump. She didn’t stand up straight, just ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing the strands between her fingertips.

“No,” she said, slouching further. “No, I will not.”

“What?”

“Fucking my mother gives you no right over me, old man. I have spent long years aiming to please you, have thrown away too much of my own life to feed yours. You have fatherhood exactly backwards, and it sickens me. Never once have you considered what in the world would be best for your child. Only yourself and your legacy, and the more I grew open to the world, the more I saw this in everything you do. You think yourself tolerant? Hah! Try enduring a lifetime of a hand crammed into the back of one’s skull like a puppet.”

Her face grew dark. “But I have had a revelation recently, Father. I am not that girl anymore. If you shout jump at me, I no longer jump. I’m free now, and I shall jump if and when I please. And I do not like being shouted at.”

She threw the club in her hands down with the rest of them at my feet and walked away, leaving the two of us standing there, shocked at her sudden outburst. If I were watching Idris at that moment, I felt like I might have seen legitimate, honest emotions on his face for the first time.

But by the time I turned to him, he was just standing there with his brow furrowed and his jaw set. All things considered, I was surprised he didn’t look more…I dunno, hurt? Instead, he just looked like he was thinking. Scheming, maybe. More moves in that stupid game, if Karu was to be believed.

“You know, if you want her back, helping your daughter out isn’t a bad first step,” I said.

“Oh, I’m aware,” he said, his eyes flashing darkly at me. “But I won’t.”

“Any…particular reason why?” I sighed.

He clapped a broad hand on my shoulders and gave me the least believable smile I’d yet seen on his face, his eyes still dark. “Look at her. Would it do any good?”

“So you won’t even try? Doesn’t that just kind of confirm everything she’s said?”

His smile grew tight-lipped and his fingers dug into my shoulder slightly before he let me go. “You should learn and listen from her, boy. As ingratiating as that naivety is, it’s getting old.”

I had no idea what that meant, and he just shook his head as he read that on my face. He pulled himself further upright and walked past me, pulling one of the clubs from the bag on the ground and stalking over to his ball as he went.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I was doing quite well this game and intend to see it played through. It’s been a pleasure as always, Ashton m’boy. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“So long as I have something to offer?” I asked, half-joking.

But as he turned and smiled, I realized the darkness in his eyes wasn’t there for the passing of his daughter, or related to her in any way at all. A chill ran down my spine.

“Now you’re getting it,” he said, and turned back to his game.