Manifestations (28 page)

‘I understand now,’ it said calmly.

~ * ~

The Betts Manifesto, as Anti-Psi League supporters sneeringly referred to it, caused such turbulence in the Will that many began recognising that the WU was now, most definitively, in a state of convocation. Just as Amy had predicted.

Not every Citizen was interested, naturally. There are always many who simply want to live their lives. If something didn’t directly impact their day, then they saw no need to vote upon it. Many families and units had one or more members who asked them to change the screen to something more entertaining.

‘I hate this mess. All this talk. Just words words words and what good does it do us?’ exclaimed a veteran.

‘But the world has to decide, doesn’t it?’ his granddaughter replied. She was wearing the psi patch on her chest.

While many were dismissive and remained disengaged, the rest of the World Union was focused on discussing the minutiae, following the declarations, motions and interviews of the important speakers.

‘Well, it’s day two of what they are starting to call “the marathon cycle”. Phyllis, how do you think the Primacy is sleeping?’ The guest laughed along with the anchorman’s joke.

‘I’m sure nobody in the council is getting much rest now, Derwent. Nor their staff. Since the security breach at the Cape we have been in a relentless circle of proposal and reaction, proposal and reaction. And it doesn’t look like it will end any time soon.’

‘What do you think we’ll see in the next three hours?’

‘Three hours? Well, the sun is coming up on Seaboard which means Charlotte Betts will re-enter the frame. She’s the only member I know of who wasn’t online in the last eight.’

‘She is a big believer in getting her rest.’

‘Touché. Though there is boldness in her refusal to be reactive, and perhaps some wisdom in letting the other players move first.’

‘That may be true. And what do you think of the rumours that Betts might rise further? Now that the elder Betts has added her support, do you think the Betts Manifesto can get her all the way to the Prime seat?’

‘I’m not a gambling woman, Derwent. At the moment I’d say there is an even chance. It depends how the next sessions fall out and what direction the Will supports.’

‘Alright, it’s now 4.45 a.m. in Yantz zone 1. We’ll be back in eight hours with our dissection of the Prime’s opening debate, which will be starting in three hours and fifteen minutes.’

~ * ~

Ryu spent the predawn hours in what Gladys Schuster called ‘narrative training’ ... to help him learn the art form of rendering the mess of opinions, emotions and misperceived facts into a single clear thread that viewers could support, follow and endorse.

If he could successfully guide the narrative of each interview, then his motions should be supported. If he couldn’t convince the Will, then he would likely lose his position.

Together they went over the history he had composed with his team. The history as spoken by the office of Prime — while he still held the seat — outlining the causal chain as he saw it and his position on how the World Union should proceed. It was his job to provide the voice and the story that the Will would believe.

Ryu wasn’t a sophist by any means, but he had watched enough people to know that even slight variations in core beliefs could have profound effects on what conclusions different people drew from the same evidence.

For the past three cycles, Gladys had been assaulting him with oppositional questions, trying to throw him off the agreed message as the interviewers would attempt to do. His answers must never contradict themselves so he repeatedly ran through the base facts until he knew them instinctively.

After the second Dark Age there were increased sightings of psionic incidents. Whether humans always had such potential, and could no longer remain hidden under almost full surveillance, or whether the wars had changed something fundamental in the human animal, no one could state for sure.

No matter one’s beliefs or personal context, the phenomena of telepathy and telekinesis were recorded and measured. Some Citizens were curious, but more were afraid and psis were collected and isolated to protect the World Union from destabilisation.

The birth and disappearance of Pierre Jnr frightened the Will into supporting further restriction of psis, and archipelagos of plastic islands were built to house all those who could be collected.

Ryu Shima had been raised to Prime when an unexplained explosive force destroyed an historic area of Paris. Some say it was an anarchist group, others that it was the beginning of a psi uprising. Many speculated that it was the long-awaited return of the boy, Pierre Jnr, come at last to save the psis and wreak revenge upon the world that had abused them.

On November 13th, 2159, the psi rebellion attacked the Services outposts in Atlantic and the Shima family home in Yantz.

‘Your goal is not to try and convince them. Your goal is to make them believe in you,’ Gladys said, gesticulating. She was in her own office below, pacing in front of a wall-screen holding his projection. He hadn’t seen her in person since he first came to the needle. He hadn’t seen anyone since Shima Palace had been breached.

‘Isn’t that the same thing?’ he asked.

‘No. Imagine Representative Betts is arguing her case. Instead of spending your time eroding her proposal, let her wear herself out justifying her beliefs while you show yours in your actions.

‘You have the advantages, Prime. Firstly, you are already Prime, and secondly, because Charlotte Betts is a very intelligent woman. So intelligent that she has the ability to doubt her own conclusions. That is her weakness. What is yours?’

The question caught Ryu off guard. He didn’t have a prepared answer.

Gladys answered for him. ‘Your leadership has recently suffered some setbacks. That is your weakness. It undermines your directives.’

‘They weren’t my fault —’ he said.

‘Nobody wants to hear that from the Prime,’ she cut him off. ‘Say that and you’ve lost their confidence.’

‘Are you suggesting that I take the blame?’

‘Embrace it. You are the Prime. You are the Will. Your failures are their failures. No matter what, do not distinguish yourself from the World Union. You are one and the same, for better or worse.’

‘And Charlotte Betts is not,’ he said. ‘But I have already put my support towards her proposal. How can I withdraw it now?’

‘You don’t. You just work on the details. Slow it down with questions about specifics.’

‘Tie her up with contingency planning.’

‘That’s right. Until the Will recognises that Representative Betts is an agitator who does not support the World Union and is trying to undermine the Will.’

‘Do you bear this woman a grudge, Miz Schuster?’ he asked her. That last statement had been vehement.

‘I believe her policies are dangerous.’

‘So how do I distract from questions about my recent failures?’

‘As you have always done, you have taken action and brought in one of history’s greatest commanders to control the situation.’

‘Colonel Pinter. How does the world perceive him now?’

‘With mixed memories. We will begin seeding new imagery for the Colonel before the debate. He will be the hero, our saviour. History already says so.’

‘And I will be what?’ Ryu asked.

‘You will be Prime,’ she said with no room for argument.

~ * ~

This is good tea. Such good tea. Good tea. Goody goopy tea tea. How long have I been staring at my hand?
Takashi wondered. It held a delicate cup. An elegant disposable Woodward. His finger curved into the handle, and he could lift it up and down. He giggled as he watched, realising that his hand was no longer attached to his arm.

What’s at the end of an army? Your handsies. No, they’re not,
he thought. His hands were running all over the place. The room was filled with hands dashing about on their fingers, the walls and ceiling crawled with his hands in their hundreds.

Tee hee hee. Good tea. Good tea.

Tiny thrusters ignited around his neck, lifting his head from his body. His hair flew back from his face as he jetted towards the wall, where he hit and bounced to the ground. He laughed and squealed as some of his hands found him and tickled him behind his ears.

His body looked so lonely. His eyes saw it from upside-down. No hands, no feet, no head. What does a body do without its limbs and brain?
Tee hee tee hee
, it breathed and leaked. The body’s fluids washed out, filling the floor until the hands and head were raised on the bodily mixture.

‘Keep me up, keep me up,’ his head called to the hands and they pushed him around so his lips were kept from drowning. His lips, his eyes, his ears and nose. Each of them slid from his face to a waiting hand, finding a new home in their palms. What is a face without features?
Teehee.
The hands with eyes climbed up the furniture, safe from the deluge of bodily fluids.

The hand with the mouth called out, ‘Good tea!’, before it sank into bubbles.

He lost his ears the same way. Then his nose. Only the eye-hands could make their way to safety and watch helplessly at the tragedy.

Do
you see?
Do
you see? My eyes are no part of me. Good tea. Good tea. Close your eyes and set me free.

Takashi blinked. He was on the floor. The handle of a teacup on his finger. Takashi put a hand to his head. It came away greasy and smelling of something. Maybe soy sauce.

‘You wouldn’t want to be a Shima today, that’s for sure.’
What’s this?
Takashi clicked to follow. ‘Last night, Taka Shima went out for sushi. By that I mean he went all out for sushi. This is one you have to watch.’
Oh no ...

In the clips they lined up, Takashi watched himself enter a small restaurant where a train of small dishes rotated past the row of seated diners. He flung his arms open, which opened his kimono, which had nothing underneath. He made to hug one of the patrons, but she dodged him and he ended up knocking plates and cups everywhere. Then he proceeded, clumsily, with multiple attempts, to get his leg onto the stools and clamber on top of the bench where he straightened up and raised his hand as if he was about to say something of a grand nature. Instead, he collapsed backward, lolling side to side as the plastic dishes kept pushing into his head.

‘Wait for it,’ the host of the show advised. The sushi, sashimi and edamame plates began piling up, spilling off the train as it rotated past the diners ... then the whole bench collapsed and Takashi went sprawling to the ground, completely unconscious and filthy.

The host was bent over, nearly in pain from laughing. ‘I’m tipping that as a possible mush-up of the year. Let’s watch it again.’

~ * ~

His mother and father sat on their raised platform, waiting quietly for him to arrive and settle himself on the mats before them.

Takashi had clothed himself in clean formal wear. A kimono suit with a double-wrap cummerbund. It stretched over the extra area of his symbiot. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw only a mesh-head fool. He bowed forward as much as his symbiot and girth would allow him.

‘I am most sorry, Mother, Father.’

‘Last night you brought great shame on our family, Takashi,’ his father said.

‘Yes. I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry might not be enough, this time.’

‘It won’t happen again.’

‘Taka. Your life is your own. But when you make such public displays it is hard for the family to stand by you. You remember that Sato is getting married, don’t you?’ Hachiro asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Your behaviour is jeopardising everything. Not to mention Ryu’s authority.’

‘I’m really sorry.’ All he could do was repeat his humble apologies.

His mother hadn’t said anything yet. He peeked up at her face and saw her usual firm repose had gone soft. She didn’t usually let her emotions show. ‘Taka ... what has happened to you?’ He looked at her. He could barely keep his eyes open. But it was Mother and he had to be here, even if he couldn’t follow his own thoughts.

‘Ever since I was ... you know.’

‘You don’t have to say anything.’

‘I do, Mother, I do. I want to say things. I just haven’t felt the same since ...’

‘And you think these drugs are helping?’ his father asked.

‘I don’t know, maybe. It’s different.’

‘You’ve changed, Taka. You used to be able to control it,’ Hachiro said.

‘If you want to stop me, then stop me. I won’t stop just because you have asked.’

‘You are a Citizen. These are your choices.’

‘Anyway. It’s not that I changed. I’ve been changed,’ Takashi insisted.

‘What do you mean?’ Hachiro asked.

‘She was in my head, Father. Do you know what that is like?’

‘I don’t think that is your problem, Taka,’ Mother said. ‘I think you don’t know what to do without Ryu.’

It was true. He missed his brother. Even hearing his name made his body feel heavy. He couldn’t speak.

‘Taka, I love you. We both love you, but we can no longer allow you to represent Shima.’