Mitchell looked around him, and then said in a low voice, “We never said we won’t let you play. The president and the government have never said that. But if we play, the whole world has to play. It’s suicidal if it’s just ourselves, right?”
The other children nodded.
One kid tugged at him and said, “So these leaders are coming to the UN to discuss the games?”
Mitchell nodded. “That’s right.”
Another kid, holding an antitank rocket launcher, said through smiles, “Awesome! Make it a good talk. You all are responsible for making the world a fun place!”
The motorcade proceeded onward. Huahua asked Mitchell, “If the roads are so dangerous, why not use helicopters?”
Mitchell shook his head. “That would be a simpler solution, of course, but a destroyer in port last week lost ten Stinger missiles, and one of them took down an NYPD helicopter the day before yesterday. The FBI believes the remaining nine are still somewhere nearby, so it’s safer if we stay on the ground.”
Huahua looked out at the vast ocean, and the colossal illuminated figure rising out of it.
“Is that the Statue of Liberty?” Huahua asked, and when Mitchell nodded, he looked carefully at the symbol of America. But he found something wasn’t quite right. “Where’s her torch?”
Mitchell said, “Knocked off by some asshole with a recoilless rifle last week. Her left arm had a hole blown in it by a rocket.”
Huahua asked, “What are American kids up to?”
Beneath the car’s dim red overhead light, Mitchell appeared extremely irked. “What’re they up to? I’ve received dozens of national leaders and that’s what you all ask. They’re kids. What’re they up to? Playing!”
Huahua said, “Our kids don’t play like this.”
“Even if they wanted to, they don’t have the guns.”
Du Bin leaned over to whisper in Huahua’s ear. “This is Candytown in America. The entire country is playing violent games.”
At last the motorcade reached the UN. When Huahua got out of the car to look at the building that at least nominally was the world’s office building, he stared in shock. The Secretariat was pitch-black, in stark contrast to the blazing lights in the surrounding buildings; a whole chunk was missing out of the upper left corner of the monument-like building; half of its exterior windows were gone; and there were several other large holes, one still smoking.
As they crossed the glass and cement fragments on their way to the building, a nearby little boy caught Huahua’s attention. The kid looked to be only three or four years old, and was holding a gun almost as big as himself. He struggled to hold it level, and aimed it at a compact car a few meters away. The kickback knocked him onto his ass, and he sat there staring straight at the car, but when he realized that nothing had happened, he pulled himself up using the gunstock—his bare bottom, peeking through his open-crotch trousers, had two circular smudges of dirt—and then slammed the muzzle on the ground and loaded another cartridge, and again tried to hold the swaying barrel steady enough to take another shot at the car. Again he fell back to the ground, and again the car made no reaction. The kid stood up again to take another shot. Every time he fired he fell backward, but on the fifth shot there was a boom and the car burst into flames and black smoke. The kid crowed “Woohoo!” and bounded away carrying the huge gun with him.
Will Yagüe, the Argentine boy who was the first secretary general of the UN of the Supernova Era, was waiting for them at the entrance to the building. Half a year earlier, Huahua had watched the televised handover between him and the last secretary general of the Common Era, but the boy in front of him retained nothing of his former dignity. Now he was covered in dust, and he had taken off his tie to stanch the blood on his head. He looked thoroughly beaten down. When Mitchell asked about the situation, he answered irritably, “Another bomb hit the tower just five minutes ago. Look—right there!” He pointed at the smoking crater in the center of the building. “I had just come outside, and a storm of shattered glass rained down…. I repeat my demand that you provide adequate protection for the United Nations headquarters!”
Mitchell said, “We’ve done all we can.”
“All you can?” Yagüe snarled, jabbing a finger at the crumbling building. “I asked you long ago to clear out heavy weapons from the vicinity.”
Dowell said, “Please let me explain. That one,” he pointed at the building’s missing corner, “is at least a one-oh-five-millimeter, and has a range of roughly twenty kilometers.”
“Then clear out all heavy weapons in a twenty-kilometer radius!”
Mitchell shrugged. “That’s not realistic. Carrying out a search and then imposing military controls over such a large area will be tricky. It’ll give those Republican bastards an opening. Sir, we’re a democratic country.”
“A democratic country? I feel like I’m in some twisted pirates’ den!”
“Your country isn’t much better off, sir. A soccer game has broken out in Buenos Aires with more than a hundred thousand players on a playing field that covers the entire city, with two enormous goals bigger than the Arc de Triomphe set up at either end. A hundred thousand players with a single ball, surging after it wherever it goes. Thousands of people have been trampled to death in the fortnight the supergame has been in progress, and there’s no sign of it stopping anytime soon. Your capital has been thrashed to pieces. Play is in children’s nature. Sometimes it’s even more important than eating or sleeping. You think you can stop them?” Mitchell pointed at the building, “True, this place isn’t really suitable for a UN meeting. I also know that the General Assembly building had its roof caved in by a bomb. And that’s why we’ve proposed to hold the session in Washington, D.C.”
“Bullshit! This time it’s D.C., next time it’ll be on an aircraft carrier! This is the United Nations, not the US Congress, and we’ll hold it on UN territory.”
“But all the heads of state are in Washington already. That’s the only place in the country where the games are banned, so it’s the only place where security can be guaranteed.”
“Bring them back! They have to take that risk, for the good of the children’s world!”
“They and their countries won’t agree to holding it here. Besides, even if they did return, where are your staff? How many kids are you down to in that building?”
“Those cowards! They’ve all run off. None of them is worthy of working for the UN.”
“Who’d want to stay in this hellhole? We’re here for two reasons. First, to give the Chinese children a look, so they can understand why we’re not holding the session here. It’s their choice whether or not they go to Washington. Second, to invite you to come with us. We’ve arranged a dedicated workspace for the UN on Capitol Hill, and have outfitted a brand-new team for you—”
“Shut up!” Yagüe shouted. “I’ve always known you want to replace the UN!” Then, to Huahua, he pointed out places in the distance. “See, those buildings are all untouched. Only the UN has been hit so many times. I wonder who the hell fired all those rockets?”
Mitchell raised a finger and said, “Mr. Yagüe, you are maliciously slandering the United States government. If you did not have diplomatic immunity, we would sue you on the spot.”
Yagüe ignored him and tugged at Huahua. “As a permanent member state, you have a responsibility to the UN. Let’s stay here together!”
Huahua thought for a moment, and then said, “Mr. Secretary General, the purpose of our visit is to make contact with the other world leaders, to hear their views on the new world and to exchange opinions. If all the heads of state are in Washington, then we have to go there too. We can’t do anything by staying here.”