Who Needs Who?

  The ticking of the air exchange can be heard along with the slight hissing of the air being forced through the vents above, the off-white nylon canvas soundproofing on the walls arrest any outside noise. Edges of the once pristine white laminated table show a slight yellowing of chemical breakdown of the glue, its age apparent as its oozed from between the laminate seams forming a long, hardened, brittle line.

  Colonel Jodi Forester sits at the table, back straight, arms outstretched; she drums the fingers of her right hand gently on the table—the Net Lord sits across from her, as still as a brick wall, gazing back at her with its black bug eyes.

  “Mind if I smoke?” She says, reaching for pocket, her question more a statement then.

  “Go right ahead, it's been 178 years since I've had one, who am I to stop you?” He says.

  Pulling out one of the cigars Frankie gave her, she bites the end off, turning her head she spits the stub to the floor. The Net Lord lets out a slight chuckle. Her eyes focus back on him. “What?” She says.

  “Oh, the stodgy old timers when I had a real body would say you biting the stub off as you did wasn't very lady like. Me, personally, I always found it attractive. My first girlfriend smoked cigars, she was a Cuban gal...”

  She interrupts. “Where is she now? Dead?” He pauses at her blunt coldness.

  “Yes.” He says.

  She strikes a match, puffing the cigar until it has a bright ember, she shakes the match out, gently placing it on the edge of the table with the charred edge hanging off. A cloud of smoke forms close to her head before being pulled away by the air exchange.

  “Before we proceed, I need a name. I'm not going to sit here and call you 'Net Lord'. I never was keen on the term, addressing someone as Lord implies you have a pious opinion of them. That is most certainly not the case with myself.” She's negotiated with Net Lords before, but never one as old as this one claims to be. He's also different, he doesn't seem as emotionally unstable as the others.

  “Ha, I like you already. So far this is the most interesting conversation I've had in the last decade. Do you know that 'my people' came up with the term? Then again, they were all rich when resources meant power for us. Ironic, resources do not equate to power for us anymore, yet your Royals are given power by you people because they have resources, makes me think of ouroboros.”

  “Name.” She says in a ton devoid of even a hint of emotion.

  “Oh, we started off having a nice conversation, why turn cold?”

  “I simply want to know who I'm addressing. Make up a name if you like, I don't really care.”

  “Very well, you may address me as Master Lord Larry.” She calmly stands, turning as she walks towards the door. “Wait.” He calls out, the moment her hand falls on the door leaver. “Please, have a seat. Mr. X will do.”

  She turns and walks towards his side of the table, “Not very original, but it will do.” She takes a seat beside him, spinning the chair towards him. “So, you need me more than I need you.” The echo-suit turns its head, the lifeless bug eyes look into hers as she blows a puff of smoke into its face.

  “You're correct. We know you, we know your son. This isn't a veiled threat; we do not wish to face the wrath of the boy's father, him and the woman you called Maria decimated our ranks, even when your people foolishly turned their backs on them. Again, ouroboros; the snake eating itself.”

  “Our leadership being foolish is something we both agree on. We both also know there is a world outside the province and the island here, a world the Net Lords don't dominate, a world where the war is still fought.” It's subtle but she hears a slight garble in his neural speech, he was going to say something but stopped himself. There is a subtle whirl of the echo-suit servos around his neck, every minor noise is as apparent as a screaming child in the silenced room.

  “True, but we're slowly crushing it. But as the one that maintains things I see what we have is the future and I question 'why'? That is a dangerous thought with us, so many of us have just drifted, just want to live to be degenerates. The problem with that is after 150 years how else do you escalate the degeneracy? I'm sure you're heard and seen the stories, I assure you in closed, private places it's much, much worse than you could imagine. I'm tasked with maintaining it all, it sickens me.”

  “Then why? Why maintain things? Why not do use all a favor and let it fall?”

  “Because, I created it all, the parents of children that turn into monsters still care for them at a minor base level.” The blank bug eyes stare back at her. Could he be telling the truth? The one who created it all, if she could get him to speak she could discover so much about the Net Lords.

  “You're the first?” She asks.

  “No, second. But I created all of it. It was so long ago, all I wanted was...” His voice sounds soft, full of regret. “Oh you're good.” He stands, his voice firm, “Congratulations, you almost got me to divulge information I did not wish to. You're a clever cunt.” He walks back a few feet then turns back to her.

  “Tsk, I thought you wanted to have a civil conversation. How rude of you to resort to name calling.” She says with a mock tone of offence. “I'm not trying to impress you. I want to know why I am doing what you ask. Also, you have yet to hear my price for doing as you ask.”

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  “Price.” He scoffs, “You want currency?”

  “No. I want something far more valuable; information. You are asking me to do something that my people will see as treason if it's discovered. You want me to do this out of the good goodness of my heart?” She says, extending her lower lip while crossing her hands on her chest.

  “It will result in many Net Lords being killed.” He says, his voice strained a bit, she can hear a rising emotion in his speech.

  “And? What does that do for me? I could convince Arthur, the one you know as Goliath, to become active, to decimate your ranks. It would be difficult finding a safe place for my son while he does that, but I'm confident I could do so. It's not about stacking up bodies, it's about peace, about ending this conflict. If the free people could be allowed to live without a constant threat I could give a damn what the Net Lords do.”

  “I want peace as well.”

  “Do you? You say you don't like what they have become, but if you maintain their way of life you are their Shepard, you guide them. And you speak of what 'you want'. Do you want the free people to die off?”

  “What I want is for her...” He pauses, “I didn't want all this. It all started with trying to save her, ensuring she could live forever. I put her in stasis.” He pauses again. “Enough of her!” He spits out, he rushes towards her, grasping her shoulders, “I could crush your skull right now!”

  “But you just said you wanted peace.” She says he lets go of her, holds his hands up and takes a step back, the room so quite the Colonel can hear the whirl of the servos in Mr. X's echo-suit.

  “Now, just imagine my people don't have my restraint. This is why our way of life needs to evolve. The Collective and us could be both our future. Tell me, do you know how they came to be?”

  “They just showed up one day.” She says, shrugging her shoulders.

  “You're pretty sly, care, don't start insulting my intelligence. I am well aware the Collective have brought you into their inner circle, they also intend to bring the man you're close with in. Well one of them, anyways.”

  “Now you need to tread lightly,” She steps forward, punching her finger on the chest of the echo-suit, “That is none of your concern and both of them would tear through your ranks 'till their last breath for me.”

  “Ah, and you accuse me of wanting control while threatening me with the power you wield. At least I admit I want control.”

  For the first time in the conversation with him she falters. Taking a deep breath she continues. “I'm nothing like you.”

  “In some ways you're a mirror image of me. All your knowledge, all your secrets, that is your strength, that is your power. I am taken, but even at that, part of me is drawn to you. You attract powerful men like a moth to light. The only downside is if the moth sticks around it exhausts itself, spending all night bumping into the light. The one you call Nadine is very similar to you; only she wants power and control for the sake of having power and control. And she seems quite skilled at pleasing the mostly male population of Net Lords with her creative degeneracy."

  “There is a lot you're not saying. If I do this, what next?”

  “I can't show my hand.”

  “So I help you and you decide to wipe us all out after? Because without more of an assurance, that is how it could very well play out.”

  “I will give you the names.”

  “Names?”

  “The names all that work for me personally, in your government, even in the Royals ranks.”

  She stares into the echo-suits eyes; there are no visual cues, but the delay may cause him to falter. “That's bull shit. Are you taking a go at insulting my intelligence now? Is this your plan to create disorder in what government we have?”

  “I will provide the names, you must memorize them and give me your word you will not put them in a data file or even write them with pen and paper. It would be the end of me if this got out.”

  She turns, pacing a few steps she turns back, “How can you prove this?”

  “It's simple. One you've suspected for a long time, one you know is rotten is in fact rotten. I will prove it, get him to confess. I need you to trust me though. I need to play this out a particular way, this will be for your proof only, but I need your trust.”

  “I don't trust you. But I'm curious.”

  “What we are doing here, I've known Ian for over 130 years and I'm sacrificing him so we can talk. I can't do this again. Do you agree to take care of Nadine?”

  “If there is sufficient proof shown, yes.”

  “Ok, here is the list,” He shows a holo-display of a dozen names, “Take your time, memorize. There is one not there, we'll get to that though.”

  She looks at him, surprised, “Is he really dead?”

  “Yes, for 6 years now. Think of that as a bonus. Nadine's real name in the Hive is 878petra Dawson. She will be deep in the Hive, very difficult to access. Now, stand facing me at all times, trust me, and don't move. And don't speak, all will be revealed.”

  A moment later the door opens. General Underwood walks over, the Colonel looks at him, not shocked. He draws a revolver.

  “Over here Underwood, and do point the revolver down, she's unarmed.” Mr. X says. Underwood walks over to where Mr. X is, standing in front of him. “I'll need the second revolver I asked for, and place your communicator on the table.”

  “Wait, why?” Underwood asks.

  Mr. X sighs, “I swear, the worst thing about living so long is tolerating fools. You finally got your wish Underwood, you've been accepted into the Hive. Now, the Colonel here needs to pick up the communicator, such a traitor, we caught her communicating with the Hive secretly.” He raises his gun to her. Tentatively she walks over and picks up the communicator, placing it in her pocket, “To think, she held on to that communicator until her last breath, her only way to contact me.” He emphasizes his last words.

  “Ha. I've waited so long for this moment Colonel, for more than a decade I've been working towards this, to live pain free, to enter the Hype, be a Net Lord with eternal life. And all I have to do is put a bullet in you. Today is like Christmas and my birthday.” Underwood says.

  “Take a step back.” Mr. X says to the Colonel. “Now, aim your revolver at her, don't fire yet.” Underwood levels his revolver at her. Nervously she looks on, realizing at that moment Mr. X can end her. “Stand perfectly still Colonel, and it'll all be over soon.”

  A shot rings out, with the second revolver Mr. X shoots Underwood in the head. “We need to sell it, keep the communicator close, good bye.” Grasping Underwood's hand he fires another shot, hitting the Colonel in the arm before turning the gun to his own head and pulling the trigger.

  Immediately she holds her arm as the others rush into the room, she mutters “Damn Net Lords...”