Insurgency, page 7
part #2 of V-War Series
"Not if it endangers my team," she snarled.
"Your team is not in danger, or at least no more than anyone else travelling through these neighbourhoods."
They both fell silent for the rest of the journey. Ava didn't like the situation at all, and didn't know what else she could do or say. She was paid to do the job, and that is what she must do. Finally, they came to a halt, and the security divide between her and the front of the cabin slid open.
"This is it. You sure you want to go here, Ma'am? Nothing here but abandoned wasteland. The kind of people living around here won't be keen to see any of us, and the gangs that work out of areas like this are well armed," said Juan.
"You have your orders. Continue," Sistani said calmly.
"Wait," said Ava sternly.
Everyone froze. She was still in command, and they waited for what she had to say.
"This whole thing stinks, and you know it does. We'll keep going forward because that is our job, but let me make this very clear. If you mean us harm, or mean to lead us into harm, you would be making a big mistake. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"
"You do."
"So, is there anything you wish to tell us?"
She shook her head. Ava wasn't satisfied, but at least she had made her point clear.
"All right, let's do this."
She opened the door and exited cautiously. Her weapon was half raised to a firing position, and she looked around in all directions, blocking the door so that Sistani could not get out. Victor headed for the door of the old brick building that was their target, while Juan stayed close to them.
"It's open." Victor pushed the front door, and it slid open.
"I don't like this one bit," said Juan.
Ava looked anxious. She didn't want to take one step further. The whole thing stank, but she had no evidence, no plausible reason to not do her job.
"All right, let's stay smart, stay calm, and move in," she declared.
"You are here to protect me, not to seek and destroy a target," Sistani insisted.
"Frankly, I've got no clue what we are doing here, because you won't be straight with us."
They reached the door. Ava looked around one last time. There was still no sign of movement, and that bothered her more than anything. Finally, she gave the nod to Victor, and he went through the door. They had half expected to run into some trouble, but to their amazement they found a large empty room. Almost empty, for one person was standing at the far end with their back to them. It was a woman with long hair and well dressed in expensive, well-fitted clothing. She was completely out of place with their area, just as Sistani was.
"Nice to meet you again," said the woman.
Ava recognised the voice, but couldn't remember why. They approached slowly, and finally the woman turned about.
"Dia Voight?" she asked in amazement, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I came to talk with you."
"With us?" Ava looked back at Sistani for answers.
"You weren't bringing me here. I was bringing you," she said with a smile.
"What the hell do you want from us? Haven't you taken enough?" Ava snapped at Dia.
"You are angry because you think I got Ward killed? You think I am responsible."
"Damn right I do!"
"Well, first, I never made Ward do anything. I helped in every way I could to both get him free, and also give him a chance to get the redemption he's been looking for all these years."
"He didn't need redemption."
But as she looked over to her two friends, she could see they agreed with the UN officer. She looked furious, but Dia went on before she could utter a word.
"Secondly, I didn't get Ward killed, because he's not dead."
That brought them all to silence for a moment. Ava wanted more than anything for that to be true, but she was not about to be tricked.
"Bullshit. We saw him die. We all saw him die, live on TV."
"You saw that yes, as you say, on TV. Do you believe everything you see on TV?"
She couldn't find an answer, as she was the most sceptical among them, and it was exactly the kind of thing she would say.
"Ward is alive. He won the fight against Luca, but Zenner could not afford to lose. He rigged the end of the fight, made some kind of fake ending."
"How can you know this?" Juan asked.
"Because I was there. When it was over, they tried to kill me as well for knowing the truth."
"Where is he now? Where is Axel?" Ava demanded.
There was sadness in Dia's face, and they knew they weren't going to like the answer.
"We tried to get Axel out of there, Ava?"
"Tried?"
"We were facing Liberators from your former company. We did what we could!"
Ava was starting to get some sense of how bad things were, and she did have some sympathy.
"Why is this the first we are hearing of this?" Victor asked.
"Because only a handful of us know the truth, and we have been on the run ever since."
"Why not go public with it?"
"Because there'd be no reason to keep Ward alive, and his body would be the perfect evidence to refute the story," said Juan, beginning to piece things together.
"Yes, and Zenner has another of ours, too. Carter Morgan. You don't know him, but he was shot helping Ward escape, and helping us all escape."
"Carter Morgan? Where have I heard that name before?"
"Carter, the Duel Reality fighter?" Juan asked.
"Yes, you know him?"
"I saw a few of his fights. He's good."
"Yes, he is. Look, we are in a whole lot of trouble, and we have left two of our own behind. It took me a while to find you, but I came here because I need your help. We need your help, and so does Axel Ward. Will you help us?"
Ava looked to her two comrades. Hey eyes were lit up with excitement, and more than anything, hope.
"You kidding me? Sign us up!" Juan yelled.
Chapter 6
17th August 3.02pm
New York, Terminal Tower
"Good to see you up and about!" Zenner called out as Mason was shown into his office. Mason was dazzled by light. The vast office had floor to ceiling glass walls on the edges looking out over the city. It was the most lavish prime real estate he had ever seen.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Sir? No, no, that won't do. You are going to be a champion to the people and to this company. I like to think as everyone who works for this company as partners. You'll own shares in the company, and you'll get a say in what we do. We are changing the face of democracy, and taking it back to its roots. And you are a part of that now."
Mason smiled. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he was sucked in by the glitz and the glamour of it all. All he had ever known was a crappy desk job that he hated, and now he was living like a king.
"Sir..."
"Mic," he replied with a smile.
"Uhh...yes. What am I supposed to do? You want me to fight, but when I am not fighting, what do I do?"
"Some of your time will inevitably be devoted to training. We have some of the best trainers and facilities known to man. You are already a great fighter, but we are going to take you to the next level. Besides that, well, you don't just fight. You are part of the brand now. Promotional work will be key. You are a face of the company. For now I want you to stick with me. Where I go, you go. You'll get to see some of the workings of the company. The public will get used to you as part of the Terminal family."
"So, I follow you around, and smile at the crowds?"
He sounded awkward and uncomfortable, but Zenner laughed loudly.
"That and so much more. You are a people's champion, Mason. You fought the best and almost won. The public love you. They want to see you, meet you, and talk to you. The duels are the ultimate aim of the game, but there is so much more to our work. And remember, this goes way beyond a game. We are bringing a freedom to people's lives that they never could have imagined. When did you ever feel like your opinion and your deeds mattered to the world?"
He shrugged.
"Exactly. We are giving people a voice, and a choice. We are changing the world, forever."
* * *
18 th August 2071, 7.55am
The White House
Washington, D.C., United American Nations
"This is outrageous!" Roberts slammed his fist down on the desk of the Oval Office.
"Sir, we had to expect opposition against this. Terminal has become very popular."
"Why do we even bother? If this is truly the will of the people, to go on fighting and dying like this, why don't we give up?"
"Because the people don't always know what's best for them. That's why they have you, and everyone else that holds this country together."
"And yet we are here to represent them. If Terminal is what the people want, maybe they should have it."
"And children in a candy store want everything they can see. That doesn't mean it’s a good idea, or that they should be allowed it."
"We aren't talking about children here."
"No, but the analogy works. I am sure the same people demanding to keep Terminal would also like to not pay any taxes, and not have to work another day in their lives, too. Running a country is more complex than that, and you know it is, Mr President."
Roberts calmed himself, knowing he was letting the insanity of the situation get the better of him.
"This court injunction against Terminal games that are not authorised and signed off by State Governors is a step in the right direction."
"Really? Because people don't look too happy about it." Roberts pointed at the screens. Tens of thousands of protestors were on the streets of Washington. There were marches both for and against his proposals, and it seemed impossible to tell which the majority was. The crowds were vast.
* * *
18 th August 2071, 9.05am
Downtown Washington, D.C., United American Nations
Mason watched through the window as their shuttle soared through the space between skyscrapers. He was marvelling at the sights, for he rarely got airborne. It was a lavish means of transport that few could afford very often.
"It feels good, doesn't it, to be on top of the world?" Zenner asked.
It was hard to deny.
"I always wanted to live like this, up in the clouds, like a King."
"And to have people know your name, and want to meet you? To be paid what you could only dream of?"
"Yes."
"All of that is possible, and not for you alone. If people are willing to put the effort and the work in, nothing will stand in their way. That is my ambition more than anything."
"Really?"
"Yes. Too many people live in poverty, or work in dead end jobs."
"And you think you can put an end to that?"
"Of course. With more automation, people do not need to work themselves to death. We haven't needed a five-day workweek for decades, and do you know why that is still the case? Because I promise you the work you have been doing the last few years was not all needed."
"You're saying we've been kept working for the sake of working?"
"Yes, of course."
"But why?"
"Because a population with the time and energy to think for themselves is a dangerous one. Those in power have been there for a very long time, families that have clung onto power for centuries. They have kept people like you and me down."
"You? How can that be?"
"You think I was born to all of this?"
Mason shrugged. He really had no idea.
"I got here because of two things. I am a visionary, and I worked to make my visions a reality. Now I want to help others do the same. You say all you ever wanted was to be a professional fighter."
"Yes."
"Then be it. Nobody is standing in your way. I want to see a world where people can choose their own destiny, not waste away at pointless jobs."
"But how will anyone live? How will they earn money?"
"You are earning money, a lot of it. And you play a game in a virtual world."
Mason shrugged in agreement.
"What if I told you, we could end the need to work? Work for money that is, or at least the need to work to earn the necessities to live. I would never hold back anyone willing to put in the extra effort, those wanting to shoot for the stars and make their fortunes. But for everyone else, why not pursue your dreams?"
"But how?"
"This automation we have had for so long. Few jobs are truly needed anymore. Certainly most jobs only need a day or two of work a week."
"That is a bold vision."
"Yes, it is, but it is one you'd want to live, isn't it?"
"It would be a paradise, but how could it ever be a reality?"
"In the current workings of the UAN, it couldn't."
"What are you saying?"
"That the world is broken. This country is run arse backwards by people from a different time. This is a new age. You know what I realised long ago. It doesn't matter how long you live. How many years you can count that you have been on this earth. How many people have you heard say they are just waiting to retire?”
"Lots."
"You know how many people die before they actually reach that retirement?"
"A hell of a lot, that’s for sure."
"Yeah, because retirement age is now seventy-five. So unless you earn a lot, you may never get to see it. And plenty who retire are done for in a few years. The government criticises Terminal because people are dying in it. But people are dying every day, from boredom, depression, from old age and an unfulfilled life. Why wait till you retire to do the things you always wanted to do? You know the number of people that do dangerous and stupid things when they retire because they say it doesn't matter anymore? Why wait? Why do that crazy, stupid fun stuff then? Why not do it in your prime?"
"That is the way you see Terminal?"
"Yes. You may die in a Terminal game, but you will die doing what you love, in the prime of your life. And you will die a hero, and be admired for it."
"And yet you do not compete?"
"No, no I do not. But I would never suggest for one moment that Terminal is for everyone. I want to see a free society, don't you see? Your vision is to be a champion of the arena, but this is my vision. I am willing to fight and die for my vision, just as you are for yours."
Mason felt inspired. He was impressed with Zenner in more ways than he could explain. In truth, he was nothing like he imagined. He expected an arrogant and insufferable businessman, the sort he had worked for his entire life. But in this one conversation he could see that Zenner was an entirely different kind of employer. It all seemed too good to be true, but it was all out in the open and public. There seemed no reason to not trust him. But as he looked out the window, he saw the vast crowds, many of which were marching in opposition to Terminal.
"Those people, what is it they are marching for, what is their issue with Terminal?"
"They simply see the world differently. In time I think we could change that. Change their minds. But what we are doing here is revolutionary. We are not simply changing the face of entertainment. We are changing people's lives. Some aren't ready for that. A lot of people don't like change, no matter how good it might be. Not until they start seeing the benefits of it."
"What could their problem be with Terminal?"
"Death." Zenner was surprised that he even had to say it.
"And you think they shouldn't be worried about that?"
"No, far from it. I think it should be up to each and every one of us to decide what we do with our lives. If you want to compete in a game where there is a risk of death, then who has the right to tell you that you can't? Our armies recruit kids barely out of school and train them for war, to fight and to die. Often they are recruited based on lies, on the magic and excitement about what their life could be. We don't do that. We are transparent. If you want to play Terminal, then do. If you do not, don't. That is what I believe. I believe in our freedom to choose. What do you feel?"
"I want to do what I want, when I want to do it."
Zenner smiled. "Then you are in the right place."
"What are we doing here? It looks wild down there."
"Yes, it is. The people down there want someone to be held accountable. They don't want to be told to calm down. Or ordered to dispersed. They want to be told that someone will listen to them, and do something. Both sides want that."
"And you think you can please both sides?"
"I think I can try."
"Isn't that the job of the authorities? The Police and the President?"
"It should be. It used to be. But where are they now? We have a spineless President, and a police force trying to enact flawed and dated laws. The job has fallen to men and women who are capable. Who will rise to the task? Today that is you and me. Tomorrow it could be someone different. The system of government in this country has failed."
"But the President fought in Terminal. He fought in the game you helped to develop, how can that be wrong?"
"President Simmons made a tragic mistake. He was never cut out to fight in the arena, not like you and Luca are. He was a talker, and he should have used his words to solve his problems."
"But the people wanted blood. They pretty much demanded it. He didn’t really have much of a choice, did he?"
"Yes, and so maybe he should have stepped aside and allowed someone better suited to the task to fight when he could not. I told you, I don't want to force anyone to do anything. I want a fair system. A system where everyone's voice matters, and one where we are all held accountable for the things we do.”
"Are you?"
Zenner looked shocked, but he soon began to laugh.
"Me? Have you not listened to anything I have said?"
"Don't get me wrong. I love your work, and I really appreciate everything you have done for me. But are you accountable for the things you do? Who keeps you accountable?"
"The people do. The people of the UAN, and the people of the world, they see what I do. It is out there for all to see. People support what I am doing because they believe in me, and if someone else were able to capture their imagination like I can, then I would bow to that. I'd of course work my ass off to take back that position."
