Chapter 19: Regroup Procedure — Part 9
“Obviously. This war is already over, at least for you. You won’t last long, sir. I won’t protect a man who won’t serve the needs of his people.” Orchid turned her back on Tim, staring at a holographic screen that showed all of Earth on it, red and orange dots marking the surface. “Bamboo, please return Tim to his office, and continue on your tasking.”
Yap snapped into existence next to Orchid, smiling sheepishly. “Orchid Bizaar, old friend. I have been sent by Intelligence with a request. I know you’re most probably very busy and upset that I haven’t come by sooner, but Intelligence feels your negotiating skills are needed on Mauve, if war between hume and android is to be averted.”
“Intelligence?” Tim asked, dumbfounded.
“It is another situation, mostly unrelated to the problems of Earth, and in some ways more immediately important.” Bamboo explained. “Please come with me, I will see you home.”
Tim turned, putting himself directly in Orchid’s face. “If what you say is true, then this other party is trying to kill me. Are you going to leave me without any protection?”
Orchid sipped from her soup, her eyes locked with his. “Why would I protect a man who won’t protect those he serves? I think my patience with you has come to its limit.”
Before Tim could argue further, he found himself in his office, staring into the eyes of a woman who had come to meet with him on the high rates of cancer in cities and villages along the Mississippi river. In his right hand was what appeared to be a gold golf ball with oddly set dimples. Tim set the artifact down, the woman choosing to completely ignore it. She paused in her sentence, her eyes growing blank. “Have you even been listening, Senator?”
Tim ran his fingers across his eyes, attempting to clear away the heady, almost painful disorientation. When he regained his focus, he looked her straight in the eye, with the practiced look of a politician, pausing only to glance at his meeting roster, let out a quiet sigh. “You know what the problem with the world is today, Mrs. Butters?”
“We were talking about a big one, Senator.” The lady, who hopefully was Mrs. Butters, responded.
“Nobody wants to pay for anything.” Tim let his hand drop casually onto the sphere, hearing a voice in his head.
The lady put her hand over his, a tumor growing from the bones in her hand. “I’m paying for it.”
“I’ve heard what you have to say, I’ll do what I can. I’m only one person, though, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Such brutal honesty is more than I expected.” Mrs. Butters said, rising to leave.
Tim hadn’t been speaking to Mrs. Butters. He had been speaking to the voice suddenly rising from his fingertips into his head, a call to battle unlike any other before it. He saw a thousand wars past in that call, a sort of lengthy futility as the nature of humeity played itself out. Mrs. Butters who seemed to understand that futility better than anybody, closed the door quietly behind her.
Tim blinked. In the course of that blink the sphere and the disk were gone. How long he had closed his eyes he could only guess, but his staff left him, and piles of papers on his desk. His head ached, his mind had drifted, apparently, and he longed for a drink. Tim would stop by a bar near his home before going to sleep, though nobody would make immediate attempts to attack him in the days to come. He felt disproportionately safe, like something had encapsulated him and would let nothing bring him harm. He wasn’t consciously aware of the thin layer of armor resting under the illusion of a suit and tie, Orchid’s gift to him for agreeing to do something — however unconsciously — to protect his world. He knew, somehow, that nearly everybody on that list would be making the same promise he had, and that when the time came, it would be those people, and only those people, who would determine the fate of everything hume and Earthly.
