“Um… I just did. I gave you several reasons. Look, I’m sorry I got you wrapped up with Nadar Corporation. I was wrong, okay? I didn’t know Bhavin would be like the other greedy corporate vultures. It sounds like he’s fooled you as well. Maybe you should move on. Stealing software doesn’t sound like something Axel Kelemen does for a living. You still have lots of good years left. And you know I’d kill for the opportunity to be in your shoes, to be out there running real ops.”
Axel wanted so much for Ryan to relieve him of this burden, but the emotional discomfort, the appearance of corporate sabotage, and even Bhavin’s ego were simply not valid premises for dismissing the risk. It was understandable that Ryan couldn’t see it. He didn’t have Axel’s technical training. He couldn’t understand how exponential change and connected networks could make AGI unstoppable. Hugo Guilherme, despite his irreverence, was the only one that had made any logical sense.
At this point there was only one thing Axel could do. He had to let go of the debate. He had to let Ryan believe he had won. Axel said, “You know what, Ryan, you may be right. It’s hard for me to see myself doing this kind of work.” He left off but it’s too important not to.
Ryan brightened considerably. “I knew you’d come around. Don’t feel bad Axel. We all have our twists and turns in life, and you always seem to land on your feet. Heck, I’m sure you’ll get a nice severance.” Ryan waved his empty glass at the room around them to exemplify the financial rewards he’d already accumulated.
They sat for a while longer and made small talk. Axel had a hard time making conversation. He didn’t want to risk revealing his true feelings.
Ryan got a sense the conversation was waning. “Well, I appreciate catching up and all,” he said. “I’ve got to get back home.”
“I understand. And Ryan, thanks for everything.”
“Axel, stop thanking me. I’d jump in front of those mooks again, and you know it.”
“I know you would, and you know what? I’m never going to stop thanking you.”
Axel walked him through the house to the front door. Pauline came to see him off. Ryan Junior trailed her, his shoulders slouching.
“So how did it go?” Pauline asked.
“Victory!” Ryan said. Axel suppressed a cringe.
“Oh, I’m so glad,” Pauline said. “I appreciate the life we have here, but we want to do what’s best for Axel.” She tapped Axel on the chest.
Axel was sullen, quiet.
“Daddy, this place is stupid. Let’s go,” Ryan Junior said.
“Junior! I’m sorry about that,” Ryan said, herding his boy out the door.
“Don’t worry. He’s young, it’s late,” Axel said.
“Thanks.”
After Ryan and his son left, Pauline and Axel made their way to their ensuite bathroom to get ready for bed.
“Maybe we can take Friday off, drive along the coast? It’ll get your mind off things,” Pauline said, the words were somewhat garbled as she brushed her teeth.
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“I thought you said if you were quitting you would be able to take some time off?”
“I’m not quitting.”
Pauline stopped midbrush.
They argued and argued. Pauline never really understood. Like Ryan, perhaps she never would. He had a feeling he would have this uncomfortable conversation again, perhaps many times, and perhaps with many people.
During his argument with Pauline, two words kept coming back to him. They were words Bhavin had told him on his first day of work. It was the Indian mantra for truth alone triumphs. Over the last two weeks every single counter-argument Axel had to Bhavin’s concern had been overcome. The concern had taken root and wouldn’t let go. The simple possibility of it warranted aggressive action. Now he had no choice but to follow the path Bhavin had chosen, no matter the discord with his friends and family. If Bhavin was right, everything was at stake. Everyone was at stake, including his family.
As he finally lay down at 3:00 am on an old couch in the basement of his house, he said the words again. After an uncomfortable conversation with his best friend and a bitter argument with his wife, it was the only thing that gave him solace.
“Satyameva jayate,” he said.
TWO MEETINGS
The Mule Pit was just off West Main Street, not too far from downtown. There you could buy some local produce and milk and in the back they would smoke out some barbeque. Rarely were there more than one or two people inside—usually mules refueling their calories with barbecue sandwiches after a long ride. It could have been worse. Chester could have asked Alastair to meet at the Broken Spoke. Better to meet here than that wretched hive.
Alastair paced while he stroked his goatee. He patiently stalked around the sparsely covered shelves of the store once, twice and then three times.
“You lookin’ for someone?” the woman at the back counter asked. She was heavyset, with blotchy red skin.
“Waiting for someone, yes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, sir. Just wondering if it’s Chester you’re looking for. He’s out back.” She gestured to the door behind her.
He smiled to the woman. “Oh, I see. Thank you. May your day be free of obsession.”
In the back Alastair saw several Old World plastic tables and chairs set up on a muddy patch of ground. There was enough seating for thirty people, but Alastair suspected the chairs were hardly ever used in the winter.
Chester was at a table farthest from the door, hunched over his plate. He waved at Alastair and picked up a napkin to wipe his face.
Alastair walked up to the table. “Do you want to meet out here?”
“It’s a bit cold out, but us mules run hot. You mind?”
It was somewhat uncomfortable but tolerable enough. “This should do fine,” Alastair said.
“You want a sandwich? Best in Seeville,” Chester said, pointing at a plate that had a half-sandwich swimming in some bright orange barbeque sauce. The tender brisket bursting out of the side of the sandwich did look tasty, but the sauce resembled some kind of chain oil.
“No thank you. I just ate, and I have to be at a lords meeting soon.”
“Your loss,” Chester said, smiling.
“I’m surprised you asked me to meet,” Alastair said.
“Why is that?”
“Well, because I know, despite what Venter said, that you have little interest in the Credo. And you don’t seem like the type to get involved in politics.”
“Humph,” Chester mumbled, his mouth full of sandwich. His eyebrows were knitted in contemplation.
“But I’m glad you did. I don’t keep in touch enough with the mule community.”
Chester finished chewing his mouthful. “Look,” he said, “let me save you the political song and dance. I can get right to the point.”
Alastair raised his eyebrows and said, “By all means.”
“The reason I asked you to meet is because you’re a lord, and also an Adherent. As an Adherent, while I can’t say I agree with the Credo, I think you probably have a good sense of what’s right. Or maybe it’s not that. Maybe you have a better sense of what’s wrong. Not only that, you were once a mule. You know our job. You know what it’s like out there, right?”
“Yes. I’ve been to the towers. I’ve done about fifty centuries. I’ve even been down to Charleston once.”
“And so you know us mules like to keep things quiet. We don’t like to talk about certain things, like why the towers are there.”