Glass Sky (41 page)

THE STIM BECKONED from Tania’s palm. Clarity today, at the expense of a foggy-headed irritability tomorrow. Irritability that could last for days. But after a sleepless night of frantic Pax Gaia edits, she needed to clear her addled brain. She crunched the tiny blue pill, feeling the fizz on her tongue. I’m going to pay for this later.

“Ready?” asked Bruno.

“I wish we didn’t have to go to Witty’s studio,” said Tania. “It feels too exposed.”

“If you call in, they’ll cut the connection in minutes,” said Ruth. “Besides, you have to be there, putting yourself on the line. It shows conviction.”

“But the police searched the studio once already.  They’re obviously expecting us.”

“That’s why it’s safe,” said Bruno. “Mr. Witty is famous. And his skin is white, so civil rights apply double. They can’t harass him with another search, so they’re stuck watching the entrances to his house and studio.”

“One of which we have to go through.”

Bruno laughed. “That’s why I get paid so much.”

Tania tried to read the new Pax Gaia introduction one last time, but the words swam on the page. The stim’s kicking in already. “We should go,” she said.

They wound their way through the production studio back to the exit. Tania stepped outside, blinking as her pupils fought the burning sunlight. If everything went as planned, Jie is out there somewhere. Could I do what he did? She tried to imagine what it would be like. Alone. A million kilometers from the nearest human. You’re in a pretty hairy position yourself, Tania. Maybe focus on that.

A truck rolled down the street, heading for one of the nearby warehouses. She could feel somebody staring at her from inside, a cluster of antenna eyes blinking on stalks. God. These stims get weird if you take too many in a row. Let it settle. Don’t panic. I’m in a city. Cars are normal.

The next car was unlike anything Tania had seen, and for a moment she thought it was another stim hallucination. It looked like a drop of mercury on wheels. Even the windows were mirrored, as reflective as the body.  The doors opened as it slowed, appearing to melt out of the frame.

“Well, this is subtle,” said Tania.

“It belongs to a friend of Witty’s,” said Bruno. “Private cars have better anonymity glass.”

They climbed into the red velvet interior, Bruno taking what was still called the “driver’s seat.” The car glided away with an erotic hummmm. Within minutes they were on a freeway, packed into traffic, heading towards the tunnel where Tania would jump out and get into Witty’s car. Witty would have a tail of course, but according to Bruno, there was a blind spot in the tunnel where they could make the switch unnoticed. If Witty appeared to go from his house right into his underground studio parking without stopping, there would be no reason to search his vehicle.

At least, that was the plan.

Bruno’s eye twitched as he received a message on his omni. “Frank just left the mansion with Mr. W,” he announced. He listened for a moment. “Really? No.” An excited smile crept over his face. “That’s not good.”

Dark colors stirred through Tania’s stim buzz. “What’s going on?”

“They’re running box surveillance on Frank. Multiple vehicles. Ahead, behind, and on the side streets in case they turn. Our transfer spot won’t work against that configuration.” He grinned, as if this were somehow good news. “We’ll have to improvise.  And fast.  Mr. W. can hardly drive around in circles while we figure something out.”

He retreated into the inner world of his EyeSistant, occasionally saying something to Frank. Tania counted street-side cameras. Have there always been this many? Every intersection had a cluster. Every building entrance. Every street light. All of them tied to government servers under antiterrorism legislation. How can we possibly get into Witty’s car unnoticed?

“Got it!” said Bruno. “There’s a broken camera at the mall exit. It may give us enough time.” May? “Tania, the moment I stop, get on the sidewalk.”

Ruth squeezed Tania’s hand. “You’re going to blow them away,” she said.

Tania shook her head. “I still don’t know if I can play your South Africa trick. If Mbani calls us on it…”

“He won’t,” said Ruth. “He’s too much of an opportunist. We’ve talked about this. Sometimes you’ve got to do a small wrong to prevent a larger one.”

“I wish you were coming with me,” said Tania.

“I belong on the street,” said Ruth. “If this ends badly, I need to be with my people. Besides, I may have some more ideas.”

“Be careful,” said Tania. “They’ll be watching your friends.”

“Have I ever let you down?” asked Ruth. But this time, her face couldn’t mask the uncertainty. “No matter what happens, we tried. We didn’t give up.”

“Get ready!” Bruno warned.

They turned a corner, pulling along the outer wall of a mall conversion. It had once been a two-story parking garage, with cars entering on the lower level. Now shops filled it, leaving a solid wall of glass storefronts along the street, with only occasional breaks, like cave entrances, where vehicles could pull completely inside to drop off passengers. They passed one entrance, then two.

At the third one they turned off the road into the inner dropoff zone. The car screeched to a stop by the mall doors. “Go! Go!” barked Bruno.

Tania leapt out, pulling her cap down to hide her face. The silver car, with Bruno and Ruth still inside, accelerated the 50 yards to the end of the loop, turned, then headed back past her. The car’s reflective glass revealed nothing. Tania stood alone on the sidewalk.

She felt painfully aware of how conspicuous she was, having just stepped out of a flashy vehicle. A white four-seater swept by, depositing passengers in front of the mall doors, then picking up new ones before returning to the road. Can’t argue the location. The mall would cut off the side vehicles in the surveillance box, and the sharp turn shielded her from the road. The camera above her was cracked and lifeless, as if somebody had thrown a rock at it. How many places in LA are this anonymous?

Another car rounded the bend, a golden cube as outrageous as the mercury raindrop she’d climbed out of. It screeched to a halt next to her, the door open before it had even stopped.

“In!” Frank snapped. “They’re right behind us.”

Tania dove in, almost landing on Witty’s lap. Tania twisted to look out of the back window. Not a moment too soon. A light-blue van was turning in behind them.

“Afternoon, Tania,” said Witty. “Ready to change the world?”

Frank was sitting in the front seat. He nodded at her, then opened his door and disappeared inside the mall to complete the charade. The blue van stopped behind them. A man got out, another suited goon. He tilted his head as if trying to get a view through the anonymity glass. He suspects something. Tania slid down into her seat. The man stood on the sidewalk, watching them for a minute, then walked right up to Tania’s window. He pushed his face against the glass and knocked.

Holy shit! Holy shit! Don’t breathe! Be invisible!

Frank sprinted out of the mall, a pharmacy bag in one hand. “Hey, you, fuck off! Leave Mr. W alone.” The man retreated to the van. It followed them all the way to the studio, waiting at the driveway’s end until the garage door had closed behind them.

***

“Live, from California, it’s the Witty Show, with your host, Bill Witty!” The monitors on the wall showed a cheering studio audience. Tania stood at the spotlight’s fringe, waiting to take her place on stage. The stim had settled nicely now, leaving fireworks of sparkling thought; her skin tingled with energy. Witty’s assistant, Jane Penny, stood a few steps back, dressed in an outfit that to Tania at least looked more like tinfoil than fabric. Because they weren’t sure how the show would play out, Witty was wearing a real suit instead of relying on the computer-generated overlays. Tania was likewise in a borrowed outfit from the rather limited wardrobe.

Witty gestured to the fake crowd, and the applause died down. “This is the most important show I’ve ever done,” he announced. “I am about to reveal shocking scandals that go to the highest level of politics. I have been forbidden to speak of these disgraces. The government will try to shut me down. My network may cancel my show. So call your friends. Wake up your children. Nobody should sleep through the LAST WITTY SHOW EVER!”

The audience numbers, which had started at around 400 million, began climbing rapidly. The commercial light blinked, but Witty ignored it.

“I’m going to make this fast, before the police knock down my studio doors,” said Witty.  “Our political institutions are broken. For sixty years we’ve lurched from crisis to crisis, unable to deal with the reality of climate change. Doctor Tania Black made a plan to restore the earth and create a fair and equitable society. Pax Gaia! But our leaders chose war and conflict instead. Anyone with a Geiger counter can see how badly politics has failed us.”

“The rejection of Pax Gaia was not an accident.” With a flourish, Witty brought the land deal spreadsheet onto the screen behind him. Witty’s people had forged White House letterhead onto it, and he’d highlighted the prominent names. The document beamed out as an attachment to the broadcast, an omni tap away from anyone who wanted it.

“This document proves that top government officials, including President Juarez, are actively sabotaging international climate cooperation. They spent hundreds of millions buying cheap desert. Land that will become valuable if they bring rain to it. Land that will be worthless if we save the planet and restore our natural climate. They created Tamed Earth to bring the rain that would enrich them. They created Tamed Earth to earn billions at our expense.”

The imaginary audience snarled like an angry bear.

“As a proud American, I am outraged by what my President has done. My government, betraying the future of our planet. The planet our children will inherit. My President, condemning billions to poverty, so that she can add to her vast wealth. This is evil.”

“Fuck the President,” a computer-generated avatar shouted from the front row. For Tania, sitting in the empty room, the whole experience was beyond surreal. Witty waited for calm.

“As we have villains, we also have a hero,” Witty continued. “Three days ago, Tian Jie, one of the lunar astronauts, stole the spaceship that was supposed to take him home. At this very moment, he is approaching the shield. He plans to reset the passwords. He’s giving the shield to the Pax Gaia team, so that it can benefit all Earth’s citizens. It’s a suicide mission. He will die up there, a cold, lonely death. And his young son, who is even now being held by the Chinese police, will never see his father again.”

Behind Witty, pictures of Cheng, laughing and playing in the water, alternated with scenes of Jie dancing in a Nanoglass rainbow. THE LAST WITTY SHOW EVER, flashed in enormous orange letters. He’s overdoing it now. But then, Witty is over the top. The number on the back wall showed over 800 million viewers now. Witty glanced at it, and snuck Tania a quick thumbs up from below his desk. Then he turned to watch the video for a moment. Suddenly he froze, straightening in his chair, tapping at his ear as if he were getting a message from an embedded microphone.

“I’ve just gotten word that some of our television affiliates are already being shut down by government agents. The Truth in Politics Act has gone too far. If you are working at one of these stations, this is your time to take a stand for press freedom. People deserve to know what is happening tonight.”

On the monitors, the image wobbled momentarily, as if fighting off some form of electronic attack. Tania shook her head at the audacious lie. Special effects. Nobody’s being shut down. Not yet. But compared with what was to come, it was a mere misdirection. The audience numbers swelled. Witty’s ratings had never been so high.

“The US and Chinese governments cannot be trusted with the shield. No more than the governments of India and Pakistan, who have ravaged their countries, and poisoned Asia with their radioactive clouds. Or the UN, who squandered the ten-year opportunity given to us by sulfuring. The shield is ours now! I present Doctor Tania Black!”

Though there were only Jane Penny and the two technicians in the audience, Tania could feel – she checked the monitor – a billion pairs of eyes watching. Her feet skimmed the ground, as if the energy of the moment had lifted her off the floor. We’re doing it! Witty’s eyes danced over the ratings screen, manic with glee. A lifetime in the spotlight, building his career, creating an international media phenomenon. He’s cashing it in for this one moment. Just like I’m cashing in my lifetime of environmental work – for one last bet.

Tania didn’t bother to sit. “Pax Gaia is about creating a better world,” she said, walking the stage. “Not just for people in poor countries, but also for people in rich ones. Not just for our children, but for us. Not just for humans, but for all the species we share our beautiful planet with. It won’t be easy. It will require putting aside old hatreds. It will require cooperation. It will require courage. But I promise you, the results will be spectacular.”

“The shield belongs to the earth now. And we cannot afford to let the politicians have it back. Democracies have failed us. Dictatorships have failed us. International organizations have failed us. It’s time to try something new. We’ll pay compensation to American and Chinese taxpayers of course. But from this point forward, an independent council will run the shield: a democratic group of scientists, open to anyone with ten years of experience in human development or climate science, will set our longterm goals.”