When Angel woke she was greeted by an unfamiliar console covered in various screens and switches, all laying dormant. She bolted out of her seat before remembering where she was and what she was doing, then spent a few seconds stretching. It wasn’t her best sleep, but proved to be a little more comfortable than expected.

She looked around, somewhat concerned by the empty chair where Arte had been earlier, and also wondering if they were still airborne. She’d never flown before, but her experience with intercity buses conditioned her to expect noise and shaking. The interior of the Raptor was eerily quiet and still. The only time she noticed any motion was during its rapid climbs and assents, which was mild even then. She had no idea how it pulled it off, however.

In any case, there wasn’t anything for her in the cockpit, so she walked into the rear cabin. Arte and Mae were sitting at the bench, eating some of the almost palatable ‘mystery mush’ the Raptor was stocked with.

“Hi Angel,” Arte said with a grin. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Thanks.” She smiled back. He offered her a pouch as she sat next to him, which, after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted. She ate it quickly, thankful the odd flavor didn’t have any staying power.

After they finished eating and cleaning up, they settled at the table, where Mae said, “I don’t suppose you two had any flashes of inspiration?”

“We, uh, kind of went right to sleep,” Angel said.

“I do have a question, at least,” Arte said, looking at Angel. She motioned for him to go ahead. “Alright, so, I was thinking about that government thing of yours, and your owl people. You said they didn’t matter, but, are there some people who do matter?”

“Well, yes, there are two big political parties,” Angel said. “Specifically, there’s the Great America Party and the Social Progress Party.”

“Couldn’t we give the data to them?”

“I wouldn’t have any way to contact them, and, honestly, I’m not sure I’d trust them to do anything with it.”

Mae leaned in. “But, if you were given the opportunity, would you try it anyway?” Angel pursed her lips. “Especially if Gale was pushing for it?”

“I… think I get what you’re aiming at,” Angel said. “But is there a chance that could happen?”

“Well, I don’t know much about politics, but I do know rich and powerful associates like schmoozing and showing off how important they are. I can’t imagine your elites are any different.”

Angel hummed. “That… is a good point. Even the OLS has a little get together every year, so I’m certain the big parties do too. I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea of when or where though.”

“Yes,” Mae said, an impish grin curling onto her lips. “If only we knew somebody with a talent for gathering information.” Her eyes drifted to a nearby terminal.

“No.” flashed in bold letters on the screen.

Mae slid from her chair and onto her knees in front of the display. “Please, my most wonderful and darling friend! Please, bless us with your boundless skill and wisdom!”

“Outside Purpose. Outside Contract. Have Resource.”

Mae groaned theatrically. “No! I already owe Abel too many favors! If I talk to him he’s going to ask me out, again, and it’s so awkward! Cybel! You’re supposed to warn me of danger, not force me into it!”

“Not Danger.”

“But it is! I swear, the man is so gauche I could die!” Mae waited a full minute, kneeling before the screen in silent hope. Eventually, she sighed and stood up. “Well, it was worth a try.”

Angel laughed. “Is he that bad?”

Mae frowned. “The worst.” She shrugged. “Oh well, nothing to it. You kids sit tight, I… have research to do.” She walked into the front cabin and shut the door. A minute later she started talking with an unheard partner.

Arte looked after her a few seconds, then over to Angel. She glanced back, signaling with her eyes he should go ahead and ask whatever question was plainly on his mind.

He smiled and blushed, then said, “Sorry. I hate to keep bugging you about this stuff, but what exactly is one of those ‘party’ things for? I get you have two big ones, and that the owls are also one, but, like, what’s the difference?”

Angel looked off, thinking the problem over. Eventually, she said, “Not that long ago I would have told you the OLS represented an alternative viewpoint from the mainstream. Them, and every other minor party.”

“And by minor party, you mean…?”

“Anyone beside the Great Americans and Social Progressives.”

“Oh, there are more than just the owls?”

“Yeah, a few, but the OLS is the biggest by far, for whatever it’s worth.”

Arte hummed. “So, if they aren’t an alternative, what do you think they are now?”

Angel sighed and shrugged. “Honestly, it feels like they’re a trap for people like me. Gale was right, all the OLS does is talk, and it turns out the Night Owls didn’t amount to anything more than a tool for the CSA.” She shook her head. “My whole life was a useless waste of time.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Arte turned his body to face her square on, lightly touching their knees together. “You helped me rescue Mae, and you’re a great barista.”

“Thanks,” Angel said. “And… I mean, I am glad we were able to save her, but… I… I want more out of my life than making coffee, you know?”

Arte smiled playfully and said, “You could be a tech, like me.”

Angel laughed and rolled her eyes. “That’s not exactly a step up, even if you must make a lot of money doing it.”

“Well, you’re still young, I wouldn’t count yourself out. And besides, there’s this attack to stop. I’m sure that will look good on your resume.”

“There is that,” Angel said. “Also, I suppose I’ve made a good teacher for you. Speaking of, do you have more questions?”

“I do, actually.” Arte blushed. “Apparently I have a talent for digression.” He settled, then said, “Alright, so, these party things, I get which ones there are, but what do they do, exactly?”

“They help candidates get elected to office,” Angel said. Arte’s blank stare did not suggest comprehension, so she continued. “Okay, let me try a different approach, though to be clear, this is massively simplified. Anyway, each party has a platform, which is a set of policies they want enacted by the government.”

“By policies you mean those law things, right?”

“Yes, exactly. When someone from the party is elected to office, they’re supposed to propose and support legislation in line with the party platform.”

“Oh! This is related to the popularity contest thing, isn’t it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a popularity contest, but I suppose that’s a fair description.”

Arte hummed, then said, “I think I get the mechanism, but, to be clear, you’re basically saying you let popular people tell you what to do.”

Angel frowned. “I don’t think anyone would put it that way, though it’s close enough.”

“It does leave me wondering about the other people.”

“Other?”

“Yeah, you know, no one can be liked by everyone, right? Is it really fair for someone to be bossed around by a guy they may very well hate, just because a bunch of other people like them?”

“I’ve never really thought about it that way,” Angel said. “I think that’s another one of those ‘just how it works’ kinds of things.”

“Well, if you’re okay with that….” He shrugged. “I was also curious about those law things. Namely, they seemed a bit arbitrary. Like, if some popular guy decided he needed your kidneys or whatever, you would have to give them to him?”

Angel laughed. “No, of course not, the Constitution limits what laws can be made.”

“And a Constitution would be…?”

“It’s the founding document for our country. It lays out all the rules for how the government has to behave,” Angel said. She saw the look Arte gave her and sighed. “Go ahead and ask.”

Arte smiled nervously. “Ah, sorry, but, by document, you mean like a piece of paper, right?”

“It was written by some of the smartest men to ever live,” Angel said. “So no, it’s not just some piece of paper.”

“I’m not seeing how a bunch of words are supposed to stop anyone from doing anything, even if they were written by geniuses.”

“The Constitution is a guide for how the government operates, and if laws are made in violation of it, the courts will strike it down.”

“And are these court things not a part of the government?”

“Well, no.”

“Are they, like, some kind of computer thing, at least?”

Angel frowned. “Judges are people, and before you ask, some of them are appointed, and others are elected, depending on factors.”

“That sounds like it’s the popular people again, but with extra steps,” Arte said. “What happens if the government, included those deciding people, doesn’t follow the rules and starts bossing you around however they feel like?”

“I… I don’t know, to be honest,” Angel said. “I guess you’d have to move, though it’s hard getting citizenship in another country.”

Arte hummed, then laughed and said, “You could join an association. I mean, I did it accidentally, so it must be pretty easy.”

Angel looked down. “Really?”

Arte blushed. “Ah, well, I assume so, anyway. This is new to me too, so I didn’t think to ask Maribel about how to switch.” He chuckled. “Also, it might be a bit awkward asking a rep from my association how to leave it. Maybe I could ask Mae?”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

As if on cue, the woman in question stepped through the front door. She looked at the pair with a grin and said, “You kids doing alright?”

“Y-yeah,” Angel said. “We were chatting. How did your research go?”

“I’m confident we found the target,” Mae said. She sat on the other bench. “The Social Progress Party is holding a conference two days from now, and every big name in your country is expected to show up.”

“That sounds promising,” Angel said.

“At least enough for us to assume Martel will carry out his attack there.”

“Do we have a plan for how to stop it?”

Mae wiggled her hand. “Sort of. Abel sent me a lot of information about the venue and time frame, but in order to stop Martel’s plan we have to know what it is. We couldn’t figure that out, though Abel promised he would do more research and float the idea by some people he knows.”

“Did your friend ask you out?” Arte said.

Mae rolled her eyes. “No, worse. He told me about a date he went on.”

Angel laughed. “Jealous?”

“Doesn’t he wish,” Mae scoffed. “If that dumb nerd went on an actual date, with an actual woman, then I swear to God next time he asks I’ll say yes, but that’s about as likely as us winning.”

“You should be careful,” Angel said with a playful grin. “I have a good feeling about this.”

“I admire your optimism,” Mae said.

“Is there a way we can help figure out what to do?” Arte said.

“Maybe. I thought of several ways I could do the mission, but it needs to be something that would appeal to a Night Owl.” She looked at Angel. “So it’s a good thing we brought one along, eh?”

Angel blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to begin planning something like this normally, let alone how to turn it into a terrorist attack.”

“That’s okay, I can bounce my ideas off you,” Mae said. “For starters, we can all agree it won’t look like an attack at all. So no guns or bombs or anything like that.”

“Yeah, Night Owls are too skittish for something so dangerous, even if the weapons were fake.”

“How would you go about exposing the data?” Arte said.

Mae hummed. “I think I’d start by putting together a quick presentation, maybe ten minutes or so, and include links to the variety of places I hid the data so people could get a copy before the CSA reacted. To deploy it, I’d probably highjack the control room for the opening ceremony, and play my video in lieu of theirs.”

“That’s way too bold for a Night Owl,” Angel said. “I’m sure you’d have to force your way though security for that, or at least overpower a few techs.” She thought a moment, then continued, “We probably would favor doing it first thing in the conference though. It gets it over with faster, and will probably reach the biggest audience too.”

“That’s what I thought,” Mae said. “But I’m not sure how else they are supposed to get people to pay attention. If the Night Owls wouldn’t confront a couple of guys to take over the feed, I can’t imagine them running through the convention center arguing their case with hundreds of people.”

“What if they didn’t have to confront anyone?” Arte said. “I mean, AutoChefs have remote diagnostic tools, could whatever screen or projector they use have something similar?”

“That’s a good point,” Mae said. “The convention is at a resort catering to rich and powerful clients, they’ll use the latest and greatest tech, probably wireless everything. It wouldn’t be implausible to construct a jammer that could highjack the feed. That also gives the Night Owls a reason to carry an unfamiliar device inside.”

“I doubt a Night Owl could get anything past security,” Angel said.

“They wouldn’t handle that part,” Mae said. “I’m certain an agent of Martel’s would smuggle it in.”

“Even then, how does that translate into an attack? We couldn’t be talking about something much bigger than a cell phone. Would a bomb that size do enough damage?”

“You’d be surprised,” Mae said. “But I was thinking poison gas. It’s much scarier, and less dependent on positioning.”

“That’s horrible,” Angel said.

“And kind of a mediocre plan anyway,” Mae said. “A good nerve gas is hard to make, and smuggling it into the venue makes it look like an inside job. Whatever Martel is up to would have to be worth the added scrutiny.”

“Can you think of anything else they might try?” Arte asked.

Mae shrugged. “Not really. A biological weapon would have more impact, but those are hard to control.”

Angel shook her head. “What could be important enough to justify all those deaths?”

“Probably something stupid, to be honest,” Mae said. “People like Martel don’t put much value in human life. I don’t think it matters from our end, as long as we stop it.”

“Do we actually know enough to do that?” Arte said. “This is only speculation, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately we don’t have much choice,” Mae said. “Although I suppose we could get confirmation from the Night Owls.” She looked at Angel.

Angel shook her head. “I doubt it. I mean, Martel must know you have contacts in Central City, so he isn’t likely to risk calling on them for his plan, and it would take a while for us to build up trust with the other cells.”

“In that case we’ll have to act as though our assumption is correct,” Mae said. “It’s better to try something and risk failure than sit back and guarantee it.”

“Alright,” Angel said. “If the nerve gas plan is the correct one, how do we stop it?”

Mae leaned back and sighed. “Now ain’t that the life or death question.” She shook her head and straightened up. “It would have been hard enough, but after my little fuck up I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“How do you mean?” Arte said.

“Remember what I told you?” Mae answered. “Federal areas are heavily surveilled, including the fancy resort the conference is at. They definitely have a biometric profile for me plugged into the most wanted bulletin, and probably for both of you as well, which means if any of us show up even a second on a single security feed, we’ll have an army of feds on our ass before you can blink.”

“We have to be able to do something,” Angel said. “Isn’t there some way we can use what we know?”

“Some way we can stop a person we never met, with a device we won’t recognize, coming in a way we can’t guess, at an indeterminate time, all while remaining totally unseen?” Mae said.

“I… I suppose it does sound hopeless when you put it that way.”

Mae looked off. “To be fair, I can think of a few ways that technically work, though you won’t like any of them.”

“S-such as?”

“We could crash the Raptor into the building.” Mae laughed. “Although even that is easier said than done. There isn’t a true manual override, and the programming won’t allow it to crash into anything it can avoid.”

“That’s not funny,” Angel said.

Mae sighed. “Sorry. I feel a little pinned down right now.”

“I… have what may be a dumb question,” Arte said. “But… we can’t walk into the resort because of that surveillance stuff, right?”

“Yes,” Mae said.

“But why exactly? I mean, you said the feds would be on us before we could blink, do they have teleporters or something?”

Mae laughed and shook her head, wiping at her eyes before answering, “I meant that metaphorically. The system would dispatch police immediately, but it takes time for them to arrive.”

Arte nodded. “But other than the police, the doors would let us through?”

Mae settled, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I expect only people on the guest list will be allowed in.”

“So, if we were invited, we could walk right in?”

“Probably?” Mae said.

“I doubt a trio of wanted criminals could get an invitation to the biggest political conference in the country,” Angel said.

“Not a real invitation, sure,” Arte said. “But Cybel got fake credentials into the CSA for us, remember? Would it be much harder to do the same for a fancy resort?”

“Even if we could,” Angel said slowly. “We’d still have to deal with the police.”

“Not right away,” Arte said. “Like Mae said, they have to travel there same as anyone.”

“That wouldn’t give us much time.”

“It would give us some.”

“Fair,” Angel said. She looked at Mae. “What do you think?”

“If we kept out of sight until we reached the entrance, we would have a minimum of five minutes before the police arrived,” Mae said. “Possibly as much as ten. If we knew who we were looking for that would probably be enough.”

“Yeah, but we don’t,” Angel said.

“Is there some way to figure out who they might have sent?” Arte said.

“Maybe?” Mae said. After a pause, she continued. “There is a question we overlooked about the Night Owls, which might give us hope.”

“O-oh?” Angel said. “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it weird how you’re able to meet in secret? Federal cities are heavily surveilled, your internet is locked down and centralized, yet somehow a bunch of amateurs created a secret society unnoticed by the CSA?”

“T-that is…” Angel started. She shook her head, then said, “What’s your point?”

“Why are we assuming the Night Owls arose spontaneously?”

“A… are you saying…”

“That your organization was founded by the CSA?” Mae offered. Angel winced. “I wouldn’t put it past them, at least.”

“Even if they were,” Arte said. “How does that help?”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Mae grinned, mischief in her eyes. “If the Night Owls are a CSA project, they should have a record of everyone with them. Getting data into federal systems can be hard, but getting it out is a right of passage for teenage net nomads. Hacking the CSA itself might take some doing, but if they have the data I’m sure we’ll find it.”

“We?” Arte said.

“By which I mean… Abel.” Mae sighed. “You’re lucky I like you, because if I had to choose between hearing about that nerd’s date a second time and jumping out of the Raptor, I’d be sore tempted by the latter.” She stood and walked to the forward cabin. “Sit tight kiddos, I’ll be right back.”

Angel watched her disappear from the room, then turned to Arte. “Do you think we have a chance?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, then hummed. “But I bet I know someone who does.” He looked at a nearby terminal. “Hey Cybel. I know I’m a big pain, but can I ask a little favor? I promise to pay you back, however I can.”

“One Percent. Generous Estimate.”

Arte grinned. “Thanks! I really do mean to repay you, you know? Tell me whatever you want.”

“Leave.”

Arte softened. “I… don’t think I can do that. The thought of leaving people to die when I know I can help….” He shook his head. “It’s too painful to contemplate.”

“Nuisance.”

“Yeah, I suppose I can be.”

“Did you mean that?” Angel said.

Arte nodded. “Of course.”

Her eyes drifted down, and she said, “But why? My people have brought you nothing but trouble, you don’t owe us a thing.”

“I… don’t really know,” Arte said. “Whenever I think about quitting, I remember the books I read growing up. The men never ran away when people needed them, no matter how bad the situation was.” He smiled. “I love the idea of living in a world where heroes are out there fighting evil, and now I get to make it one, at least a little. How can I pass that up?”

Angel laughed, a little manic, unsure if she should be amused or amazed. “Arte! You are….” She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re either incredibly noble, or astoundingly dumb.”

“Why not both?” Arte grinned.

The door slid open and Mae walked in. “I’ve got good news and bad.”

Angel turned to Mae with a spike of anxiety. “Did you find records?”

“Abel found some improperly stored backups,” Mae said as she sat across from them. “Which contained a CSA database of every Night Owl.”

“W-was I in there?”

“No,” Mae shook her head. “Unfortunately the data is almost a year old, so we won’t know about anyone who joined since then. There’s also a few people who apparently discovered the Night Owls independently of the CSA, who also knew enough OPSEC to protect their identities. For everyone else, though, we’ve got names, pictures, and a whole lot more.”

“Can this tell us who they’re sending for the attack?” Arte asked.

“Not directly,” Mae said. “And I suspect the people running the CSA’s Night Owl project aren’t a part of this. Martel and his gang are likely acting independently.”

“Does this help us at all, then?” Angel said.

“Yes, lots. For starters, there’s a good chance whoever they pick will be someone we can recognize,” Mae said. “And what’s more, the vast majority of Night Owls fit the same general profile. The majority are young, twenty something males, and that’s especially true for the proactive members.”

Angel hummed. “So our plan is to sneak into the conference and hope we run into someone we recognize?”

“That, or a young man who looks out of place,” Mae said. “Although I’m not sure what to do after we find them.”

“Can’t we just tell them not to activate the device they were given?”

“It might not be that easy,” Mae said. “If I were running this attack I’d have an agent nearby who could trigger it remotely in case something went wrong.”

“Could we find him too?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Even if we assume it’ll be Seig, which is likely, he’s not going to be hanging out nearby. He might even be outside the building, assuming he expects to survive this mission.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Angel said. Mae hummed.

While the pair of women were sharing a look, Arte leaned in and said, “Sorry if this is a bit dumb, but we’re worried about a deadly gas, right?” Mae nodded. “Then couldn’t we, you know”—he made a closing motion with his hands—“put it inside something?”

“Something?” Mae said.

“Well, I was thinking a garbage bag.” Arte blushed. “The heavy duty ones do a good job trapping smells, so shouldn’t that work for poison too?”

Mae remained motionless a second, eyes locked in a ponderous gaze, then slowly said, “Could it really be that easy?” She hummed. “I suppose most chemical weapons are technically liquids, so I’m not sure why it wouldn’t.”

“I think it’s worth a shot, at least,” Arte said.

“As long as they let us through with a handful of trash bags.” Mae smiled. “But hey, we’re already pushing our luck past the limit, might as well go all in.”

“Is that our plan, then?” Angel said. “We stroll into biggest concentration of American elites outside of Congress, look for a suspicious dude, then throw a bomb in the garbage?”

Mae laughed. “I suppose it is.”

“It feels… incomplete.”

“There are a few details to work out,” Mae said. “Abel is confident he can get us on the guest list by tomorrow, and we should familiarize ourselves with the venue and formulate an escape plan.”

“Oh, yeah.” Angel chuckled. “I hadn’t thought about that part.”

“Thankfully, getting out should be a lot easier than getting in,” Mae said. “There’s a clear path to the roof from the inside, so the Raptor can pick us up. I’m sure it will set off all kinds of alarms, but it won’t matter at that point.” She pulled a display onto the table and lay it flat. “Now let’s start working on our routes.”