‘This is an obscene breach of privacy,’ Cronin said, looking less than pleased.
‘I would argue that this information is relevant to the populace as it seems to affect them directly,’ Pagan said, somewhat distracted as he studied the information he’d found. ‘Hmm, a cursory glance would suggest that you’ve made a lot of money from arms and have recently been investing in biotechnology. I wonder why?’
‘Do you not understand that your alien computer virus of total truth is a weapon you’ve wielded against humanity? Lies protect humanity as well as deceive them. What if every lie you were ever told was suddenly revealed, would it do more harm than good? From "Yes, you do look fat in that" to Pearl Harbor, we exist in a web of lies, and not all of them are bad. The truth can be a destructive force, as your attempt to pull humanity apart is proving,’ Cronin said, changing tack.
‘But why your lies? Why do you get to decide what lies we hear?’ Mudge asked.
‘Because we are allowed to, because we worked hard to get ourselves into positions that allow us to make these decisions, because we are strong enough to do so. This is how our system works: it rewards success and it rewards strength. This is how things are supposed to be. Who else is going to lead? You?’ I had to smile at the guy’s balls.
‘What about democracy?’ Mudge asked. I almost scoffed. The word seemed a joke, but Mudge was deadly serious: this was important to him. I saw Cronin’s eyes narrow around his custom lenses, designed to look like real eyes, the designer logo just about visible on the large viz screen. I think he was trying to gauge how serious Mudge was.
‘We work within the framework of democracy,’ Cronin said carefully. I think he saw a trap. Democracy was a joke to people like this, almost meaningless. He knew it and we knew it, but he couldn’t openly say that.
‘Do you think we would’ve voted for the war?’ Mudge asked.
‘This is a ridiculous argument. You’re being naive and you know it. The governments that you voted into place allowed us the latitude to make certain moves.’
‘Like starting a war?’
‘I didn’t stan the war,’ he repeated, sounding slightly exasperated. ‘We’re going round in circles.’
‘Should governments act on the will of the people?’
‘They do when they are elected, but despite your attempt to simplify it you know that for security reasons the populace cannot be privy to some information and the decisions that come about as a result of them. Through their votes they delegate their trust to their elected officials, who act for them.’
‘In their best interests?’ Mudge asked.
‘You’re setting up a straw man,’ Cronin said. ‘You want us to be a secret government-controlling conspiracy. You give us prosaic names like the Cabal so you can find a scapegoat. Find someone to blame for your own sense of dissatisfaction because you’d rather attack than actually do anything constructive to help.’
‘How is the war-’ Mudge began.
‘I didn’t start the war, Mr Mudgie, now let me finish. What you don’t understand is this is the way of things. We exist within the framework of our society as a necessity. We manage the difficult decisions, the decisions where victories involve sacrifice. We are always going to look bad. You want to punish us but all you’re doing is fighting the momentum of your own society. You want to blame us for the start of the war but its beginnings are a lot more complicated than you’re allowing for, and the sad fact is the war began because of the weight of society bearing down on that point in history. What you call the Cabal was acting on what humanity required at that point.’
‘Bullshit,’ I said. ‘Fancy words aside, the war started because someone who you work for ordered a passive alien organism to be attacked by an RASF ship.’
‘Someone has to lead because so many people will not take responsibility for themselves,’ he said.
‘Because people have had it driven into them by the likes of you that there’s nothing they can do, that they’re helpless and they can’t make a difference. That’s not true,’ Morag said.
‘Actually it is. Few people have the will or the ability to make a difference. You have to remember the majority of people will not collude with the implacable enemy of their race and put an alien parasite in their head,’ Cronin said. Morag just glared at him but didn’t respond to the cheap shot.
‘Even if that were true, then the strong have an obligation to lead responsibly and try and foster that strength in others,’ I said.
‘We are making humanity stronger,’ he said.
‘Oh, you are so full of crap,’ I said. There were sounds of disbelief from the others.
‘He’s right. Conflict breeds strength,’ Balor said. I looked up at him. Cronin was looking smug on the viz screen.
‘What humanity?’ I asked. Suddenly I was on the screen. I was being shot through Mudge’s eyes again. I felt uncomfortable, I looked at my features writ large on the viz screen. Some of my discomfort stemmed from looking like I was dying of radiation poisoning.
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Cronin said.
‘Less than a third of my body is the original biological material,’ I said. ‘They want to wage war on my humanity, where will they start, my testicles?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, the flesh isn’t-’ Cronin began.
‘Look at Balor, does he look human, sound human?’ I asked Cronin.
‘Appearances…’ Cronin began.
‘It goes beyond looks. He had neurosurgery to make himself less human, didn’t you?’ I asked Balor. Now it was Balor on the screen. He looked magnificent and nothing whatsoever to do with humanity.
‘I had neurosurgery done on myself to weed out weakness,’ Balor said impassively. I wondered with this talk of strong leadership who Balor actually sympathised with.
‘The actions of one man-’ Cronin began again but I interrupted him again.
‘It’s not one man, though, is it? We’re making our own aliens. Do you know how many cases of cybernetic-induced psychosis I’ve seen put out of their misery? Even if we win we lose, and if we don’t stop soon there won’t be any humanity left, just sick machines.’ Cronin looked like he was about to start talking again but something else occurred to me. ‘See, you and yours may have something invested in turning us into machines but I don’t and neither, I guess, would the majority of other people in the world. I was a member of the SAS, an elite. In theory all the machinery, training and experience should make me one of the strongest people on the planet. I don’t feel strong; I feel dead, I feel horrified with what I’ve done and seen.’ I said it earnestly enough and I believed it, but I also knew there would be a group of men and women in Hereford throwing things at their viz screens – that at least made me smile.
‘It made me strong,’ Balor insisted.
‘It made you a freak,’ Buck sang along with the music he was playing. I’d become so used to the soundtrack I’d all but stopped noticing it. Balor glared at the guitarist.
‘Actually these two are a good example,’ Mudge said. ‘God, can you draw up the recruitment information on Buck and Gibby and make their entry photos big on the screen?’ he asked. I saw where this was going; it was something of a cheap shot. Buck and Gibby’s recruitment photos came up. We saw images of them as two young clean-cut recruits on their way to basic training.
‘Compare and contrast,’ Mudge said. Buck and Gibby as they were today in all their cyberbilly splendour appeared on the screen. Buck decided to use his moment in the spotlight to start a guitar solo. ‘Congratulations, Cronin, the sum result of the Cabal’s machinations to date is to create a degenerate junkie hillbilly making machine.’