“Like the last one? Do you know how much chaos our information release caused on the Galactic scene? They don’t know, but many suspect it was us who released that information.” Katherine’s eyes go distant, dark as a cloud of grief shadows her face. “The number of deaths among the powers that be have increased fourfold. A half dozen wars started in the last week alone. When they finally learn who caused this, there will be hell to pay.”
“But it improved our odds, no?” Her silence is answer enough for me. “It has to be done. And trust me, I have a plan. Now, the proxy, Katherine. I need it.”
“And if I say no?” she says.
“Don’t.”
“And if I say no?”
I meet her stubborn gaze, wondering what it is with damn obstinate, bull-headed women in my life. I look over my shoulder at Mikito, who gives me a small nod, acknowledging I’ve tried.
I clench my fist and whisper, “Don’t make me take it.”
“You can’t…” She stares at my eyes and breathes out slowly. “You can, can’t you?”
I nod.
“What have you done?”
“Just found a few answers,” I say. “The proxy?”
Katherine searches my eyes. I let her, curious what it is that she’s looking for. Or if what she seeks is still there. The man who left Earth with her was many years and even more lives shed ago. Sometimes, I’m not sure there’s much of that man left.
“Promise me something,” she says.
“What?”
“That you’ll not harm Earth. Whatever you do with the proxy, make sure it’s for the best for Earth.”
I offer her a nod, and when it’s not enough, I speak the promise out loud. I know she’s using a Skill, verifying the truth of what I say. Just another Diplomat Skill.
When she’s assured of my intentions, Katherine presses an arm upon my chest. Light glows for a second, and a new notification appears.
Earth Voting Proxy given to John Lee, Redeemer of the Dead (Galactic Paladin Level 12)
“Thank you,” I say, bowing my head. I know how much that cost Katherine, and there’s a look in her eyes, a pained look of broken trust that tells me I might have burnt my bridges here. “And I’m sorry.”
I look at Mikito, who’s sneaked up behind Katherine. The Diplomat’s eyes widen, just briefly, before Mikito hits her, striking so fast and hard it bypasses her safeguards and knocks her out.
“How long?” I say, laying down the unconscious woman I caught.
“Long enough.”
Harry, who just watched us knock out our friend, raises his voice, his voice shaking between outrage and fear. “What the hell is going on?”
***
We explain the plan to Harry as we hurry off, leaving Katherine to sleep off the attack. At least, enough that he stops hyperventilating and agrees to carry out his part. He’s kind of important. Not linchpin, but close enough that if he disagrees, it’d make our job more difficult.
Maintenance tunnels carry us deep into the first circle of Irvina. Security clearances provided to us by the Lady of Shadows help get us through the security checkpoints. I leave just enough of a trail with System Edit that when people come and look later, it’ll seem I Edited my way through.
We keep moving, the original trio of fan club members the only ones left with Harry, Mikito, and me. The others have dispersed, headed out of the city, off the planet, and preferably out of the sector. Many have plans to go to Earth, offered refugee status and a chance to Level and soak up Japanese culture.
I’m a little annoyed that Mikito’s got all the fans, but I can see which one of us is a better ambassador for humanity’s culture. Not to say Harry or Katherine don’t have their own fans, but in a world filled with violence like this, it’s no surprise that the ass-kickers are the major draws.
There are others of course, individuals who have made it out to the Galactic universe. Some of them have taken on public personas, promoting themselves and Earth. The singer who brings our pop culture to the galaxy. Matisse Bien, who vacillates between taking part in virtual movies and joining teams as a pinch-hitter, acting out his role when necessary. Of course, it’s not as good as having an actual healer or ranged attack or crowd control member, but method acting gives him close enough approximation of Skills and abilities that teams desperately in need of a specific role make do.
There’s the XI Legion, who’d been camped in the middle of France during the initiation, reenacting their little Roman wars. Clad in full combat armor, they’d been one of the more powerful group forces in Western Europe for a time. Of course, they also hired themselves out to the Movana, but we won’t discuss that portion of their betrayal. In the end, they shipped off Earth long before I did, taking part in clan wars and dungeon clearances where a Legion of Adventurers were required.
There were others: the Hoodoo Doctor, the Operator, the Gurkha. Individuals who’ve gained notoriety on the Galactic circuit, just like us, and so have gained fans both at home and in the wider Galactic sphere. Still more humans move through Galactic society without creating a major ripple, affecting only individuals.
Just as most galactics do in the end.
That’s the thing about celebrity, about fame. It strikes once and you might burn bright for a time, but it’ll fade just as easily in a series of accusations, of bad decisions. It eludes those who desire it and is gifted to those who seek it not.
Knowing that, I realize there’s no real point in being jealous of Mikito. It is what it is, and I’ve got bigger fish to fry.
“Is this route going to bring us to the Galactic Council building?” Harry asks as he cranes his head around, staring at the underground tunnels. “I thought the main entrance is above ground.”
Ali answers, floating over to Harry. “No. The Council building has multiple entrances set up just for cases like us.”
“Us?”
“Individuals who are in trouble with multiple groups.” Ali smirks. “The right to vote is quite sacrosanct among them all.”
“Doesn’t that mean that they’re probably waiting for us here?” Harry says, frowning. It’s the obvious conclusion after all.
“Probably,” Ali says, making Harry blanch.
In the corner of the minimap, I see we’re getting somewhat close to the building. In a couple hundred meters, give or take a few crossings and turns, our particular path will intercept the main routes. Idly, I wonder how many other diplomats are making use of the underground tunnels today.
“Well!?!” Harry says, waving his hands around. “We’re just going to walk straight into a trap?”
“Not exactly.” Mikito looks at me and I shrug, so she continues. “We all have enchantments to make us look different. Security clearances should also get us past the automated sentries.”
“And their Skills?” Harry says.
“We’ve got that covered too,” I say.
Or at least I think so. Of course, the reporter isn’t letting it lie just like that, but it’s not as if I’m that interested in answering his questions, so we keep walking. Mikito and Ali are happy to do their best to reassure Harry, providing him the various pieces of enchanted equipment we’ve acquired for this. It mollifies him a bit, but not all the way. More importantly, we keep him guessing and irritated, drip-feeding him information.
It’s not that we want to torture him, but we can all sense Harry’s a little on the fragile side, the torture and interrogation having driven him past what should normally be his breaking point. He’s still holding it together, but only by sheer willpower.
Making him irritated, making him angry, gives him something to focus on while we forge ahead. And more importantly, if he knew the plan, I’m not sure he’d agree to it. Even though it’s mostly safe. I feel a little guilt at what I’m doing, but there’s no time to placate him, make him see the reasoning. The need. So I’m going with trickery.