I crept over to the window to look outside. A car sat conspicuously parked on the street. That a car should be on the street was strange enough, since no tunnel exited anywhere near my building. I always had to park in the lot connected to the second-story walkway, but that tunnel didn't exit out onto the street. A car would have had to travel for a kilometer from the nearest street-level traffic tunnel to park directly outside of my office. Once out of the electrified traffic tunnels, you had to rely solely on your battery. Most cars didn't have the power to stray too far. That is, except cop cars.
My temple ticked again. This time I decided to answer it. I mentally flipped the "go" command. A window opened in the right-hand corner of my vision.
I ought to kill you, Mouse said.
Excerpt from the New York Times, August 30, 2076.
GREY RELENTLESS
DENVER NODE. The real-time presidential debate took another step toward becoming a reality today. Though still in Colorado camped outside of Letourneau's mansion, Rabbi-Senator Chaim Grey responded to the recent virtual attack. When asked to comment, he smiled. "Letourneau said that God has picked him to be the next president of the United States. Who am I to argue with God? But, I say, if the outcome is predetermined, then Letourneau, chosen of God, has even less to fear from talking to a New York rabbi for a couple of hours in front of the people of the United States."
Popular opinion seems to be behind Grey. After this statement, Grey's standing in the polls rose another ten percent, giving him a slight lead in the race.
Tyler Wong, who has been a strong supporter of Letourneau from the beginning, logged on today to announce that he will be voting for Grey if Letourneau does not agree to debate in real time. "It's a real disappointment," he said. "Letourneau should kick Grey's butt, but he looks like a wimp hiding up there in the mountains. If he doesn't agree to come out, man, I'm gonna vote for the Jew."
Others have expressed similar sentiment. Hirohito Smith, presidential candidate for the Islam party, agreed. "Even though the party of Islam did not have enough of a majority to compete for this office, I encourage the faithful to challenge this prophet Letourneau. Remember what is written between the eyes of the great archangel Jibril, he who dictated the Koran, 'There is no God but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God.' "
Chapter 22
You nearly did, I told Mouse. I kept my attention focused on the car outside. I tried to discern if there was anyone still in the car, or not. Are those your henchmen here to finish the job?
Who? What? Mouse asked. What do you mean? I've been in your armor hiding from Phanuel, since you and that Kantowitcz character broke into my hub.
I focused on the LINK window. I tried to figure out which Mouse I was talking to. The image had the same dark, ruffled hair and round ears as the real-time Mouse. It was impossible to tell by looking. Page?
You know someone else who can live in your uniform? The page smiled with Mouse's face. This, by the way, is a rocking sweet home away from home. Those Israeli's have great tech. I'm thinking about converting. Do you think they'd let an AI be a Jew?
I have no idea, I muttered. I don't have time to chat, page. I've got some possible company here.
Hey, the page said. I'm not some companion software programmed just for your entertainment, I called for a reason. I wanted to warn you about Mouse.
Thanks, I said, as I looked around the room for something to prop the door shut with. But, I already figured Mouse was out to get me when he pulled the gun.
The page looked hurt. He did? I take it the body went to New York?
Yeah. In the closet was a piece of plywood I was using as a makeshift shelf. I quickly brushed my shoes off it into a pile and pulled the board from its brick supports. Pushing the board under the doorknob, I tested it for strength. It would hold for a while. With that, I commanded the uniform's holographic defenses to on and headed out the window onto the fire escape; I started down the ladder. Even though I knew I was invisible, I kept twisting around to check that no one in the car noticed me.
Bummer. The page's voice startled me; I'd forgotten he was there. Dee, whatever you do, don't access the LINK. Phanuel is after me, and Michael. ...
Michael? What, is he okay?
No, the page added. I found out he's going to be unleashed tonight at 0:00 GMT.
The LINK-Michael? Why didn't you tell me this before? I'd reached the last rung. I stopped to catch my breath and stared at the window floating in the corner of my vision.
The page looked sheepish. When I'm on the LINK, it's difficult for me to separate my feelings from Mouse's. He was off-line ... and, then, when I was here ... well, I had time to think.
I let go of the last rung, leaping down to the street level. I landed awkwardly and knocked into a garbage can. Sprawled on my butt, I groaned softly. The pavement was uneven, and sharp edges poked at me through the tough exterior of the armor.
Deidre, you have to warn people. Mouse means business with the LINK-Michael. Serious business.
What's so special about the LINK-Michael, Page? Haven't we already seen him?
The page shook his head. Not this version.
What's this version? I asked, dusting off my knees.
Ever hear the story of how the angel Michael single-handedly slaughtered 185,000 Assyrians in one night? Well, this is that Michael.
I stood up to assess the situation. Apparently, the noise of the garbage can overturning alerted someone in the car to my presence. The car door opened, and a man in a dark suit stepped out to get a better look. He was wearing sunglasses.
Shit, I said, crouching down quickly.
I held my breath; I could hear shuffling footsteps approaching. My back pressed against a Dumpster, and I watched the street for any hint that the man was within range.
When a long shadow came into view, I tightened my muscles, ready to spring. The second I saw a foot, I threw my whole body into a punch aimed at the knee. My fist connected solidly. The man went down with a yelp of pain. I stood up quickly. If he had a gun, I intended to wrestle him for it.
Luck was with me, and the man's fall had knocked the sunglasses off his face. A shoulder holster was visible underneath his suit coat. I grabbed the gun. The pistol slid into invisibility as soon as my hand wrapped around the butt.
Fingertips brushed my ankle as I stepped over him, but I squeezed past. I ran toward the car. Cops and criminals were notorious for leaving keys in the ignition.
I could see heads craning out of the window of my office as I slid into the driver's seat. They all wore sunglasses, despite the muted outside light. My hands wrapped around the wheel, and I felt for keys. Smelling stale coffee in the upholstery, I decided this was, in fact, a cop's car. The engine revved as I put my foot down hard on the go pedal. I pulled the door shut, and the car sprang forward. Securing the safety belt, I just had to hope that they had left enough juice in the battery for me to make it all the way to a traffic tube. I was feeling confident. So far all my prayers had come true.
You know, this is pretty serious stuff, the page said, his face still scrunched into a pout. I don't know what you're doing that's more important than talking to me.