Negotiating with Rio was completely different than talking to Dragon, and was both more human and more frustrating. Quite possibly because she was, unlike Dragon, very nearly human, but not quite. With him, it was like trying to get a life story out of a fire ant -- when it inevitably failed and you wound up stung, it was because you were an idiot for trying. She was closer to trying to get a cat to stop clawing up a sofa.

She heard me. She listened, responded. And her responses were very insistent that she wanted to continue killing people in a horrible, protracted campaign of death, and she was sorry that I saw and phrased it that way.

After maybe an hour of talking in circles, she stood from the small table we were seated at and apologized.

"I'm sorry, I've already spent so much time here. We're not making it anywhere, we just don't agree. And every minute I sit here is a minute I fall behind in providing for my people and my army."

I didn't want to agree, but I just didn't have much more to say. I'd told her about Justice, about America, the XPCA and the world, but at every point, she just sadly reiterated that, as much as that sucked for those victims and for me...it was not, unfortunately, anything she cared about.

She was patient, polite, understanding, and ruthless.

The closest I'd gotten was in mentioning Dragon, and the fact that he'd taken the time to open up to me, in a way. I told her about how we'd fought, and he'd gone so far as to not kill me so that I could hopefully talk her out of this whole thing. It was obvious she cared about him, or at least, more than the rest of the poor suckers dying out there, but even that hadn't swayed her.

I had a final card left to play, but I wasn't sure it was one in my hand. I hoped Dragon would understand...as much as I knew that phrase to be impossible.

"Wait there's...one more thing," I said, hustling to catch up with her. "Dragon, like I said, he was working really hard to open up to me."

"And I'm so proud of him for doing it!" she bubbled. "I wish I were there. I'm actually jealous. Did you know I've known Liwei his whole life? And never once has he...well...talked to me, really."

I tried not to wince too visibly. "Well, that's the thing, see. Dragon...was...um, offering that, if you...stopped, then he'd be willing to uh...try socializing with you, more."

"He said that?" she asked, eyes going wide.

"Sure!"

She stopped and seemed to give it at least enough thought to demand chewing on a fingernail. It reminded me of Lia, if my sister were a psychopath.

"I...I shouldn't," she commented. "It's so exciting, but...that would be too selfish. And my calling," she said, her voice slipping away from me.

"Well, you could always...um...refocus your calling. Like I said, maybe...go after Justice, right?"

"No, Liwei wants me to stop, not fight your enemies, no offense. I don't know why it's such a big deal to him, though. He's never been judgemental of how I pursue my calling before, but this time, it's like...it really pissed him off somehow."

Yeah, I hadn't made it that far with him. Talking about his feelings basically extended to how the city was worse-off now. I brought up that point but she just shook her head.

"That can't be it. Like, yeah, I'm not exactly keen on putting artillery pits in the inner city either. It's loud and obnoxious...but there's just no room in the city otherwise, and only the priests can operate them. I think they're annoying, but I don't think Liwei would put an annoyance above my calling."

"I dunno," I teased. "He's pretty big on the whole...blasphemy-heresy thing. He was flipping out when you brought AEGIS past the inner walls, remember? And I'm sure to him, she's not too different a machine from the cannons."

She shook her head. "I made the cannons. They're part of my calling, so he's fine with it. It's something else, and I just don't know what it is."

"Then let's ask him," I suggested.

And she just laughed. "Oh. You're serious?"

"I mean, I talked to him before. Kind of a...new leaf, he's working on, isn't it?"

"Oh. Sure," she agreed politely. "Um, regardless, I have to get back to work, urgently, for real. I can catch up with you later tonight, if I'm not too backed up. Promise you won't leave until then?"

I shook my head, trying not to think about how, if this was going to take too long...I'd have to have Karu put her down for me. "Sure. I won't leave until this is settled."

"Okay. I'll hold you to that!" she waved, and then veritably skipped away.

I watched her go, my heart sinking with every bounce.

"She's got a bit of an ass on her," AEGIS commented. "I thought you liked them high and tight."

I turned around and found her standing there, leaning against a wall with just a little too much casual air to be casual.

"Uh, hi AEGIS. How long you been there?"

"Oh, long enough to hear a thing or two. Planning to meet again under the cover of night? Sounds like you two are getting along well."

She strode towards but not directly at me, with long steps that somehow belied how little she cared about me right now.

"I'm just trying to get her to help us."

"Oh I understand. Use those masculine charms. Really work it into her. Grr," she growled.

"It's not like that."

She rolled her eyes. "You don't have to lie to me, Athan. I know what it means for you to be willing to do anything and give up everything for the world. If you'd throw your body away in some stupid fight, you'd certainly fuck a sheltered little psycho."

She turned from her goose-stepping on her heel and bent forward to face me, thrusting out her chest as she did. Her low-cut sundress didn't exactly hide much in that configuration.

"All I want to make sure," she said, reaching forward and booping me on the nose "is that you're doing it for that reason, and none other. And by it, I mean her. Capiche?"

"As I said, it's not like that, AEGIS." I frowned bitterly at her little jealous act and pushed her booping finger out of my face. "I'm worried I'm gonna have to kill her."

"Oh." She straightened up and put the boobs and strut and finger away at once. "It's that type of Athan-crisis."

"Yeah, that one," I sighed. "She just won't listen to anything I say. We talked, and then fought, and then I thought things were going better because we both actually started listening to what the other was saying…"

"But what the other was saying wasn't exactly compatible, was it?"

"No, not at all. It's like, everything I want, she doesn't. Everything she wants, I abhor."

She frowned thoughtfully at me, and then planted herself in the chair Rio had abandoned. I took my old seat again and the two of us lingered in silence for a time.

"She's pretty transparent in her wants, yeah?" AEGIS clarified. "She just wants...to make guns and use them, and that's about it?"

I nodded. "I think I understand her a lot better after our talk, but that doesn't help."

"Well, indulge me. Maybe there's something in it we can use."

"Okay," I took a deep breath and thought back over the explanation she'd given me. "So, she doesn't see herself as an engineer or manufacturer. She thinks herself an artist, and what's worse, one that's chasing 'perfection'. However that applies to art."

"Interesting," AEGIS mused, pushing up her glasses. "Perfection and art are...historically, kind of diametrically opposed. Perfection was a major theme of the renaissance but…"

She cleared her throat. "Sorry. Continue."

"Well, yeah, that's what I think. It's art. You practice, you improve...but perfection is a pipe dream, right? What does perfect art even mean? Except her head's screwed on so sideways that she seems to think if she does everything right, all the time, she'll get there. And anything less than that is a disappointing failure for her artistic potential."

"Hmm. Obsession with relative perfection. Interesting. Relatable."

"Relatable?"

She grinned. "Well, to me."

"AEGIS, you're already perfect, please don't go off on a country-wide slaughtering spree in pursuit of anything else."

"Aw, you're sweet," she smiled back. "And I'm certainly not going to, although that would complete the trope of a too-lifelike robot going berserk and slaughtering all the humans. Beep, boop, murder."

"Please don't do that with your voice. Ever again."

"But you love me, Athan. I require orgasms. Beep, boop, insert penis."

"Okay, you're done."

She giggled. "But seriously, I've got a pretty huge advantage in this department over her. Or, well, anyone else. And that is, getting back to our renaissance masters, the power of iteration."

"Iteration...how? Like doing the same thing over and over?"

"Doing the same thing over and over, but better. As we've uh, demonstrated twice now, if I'm ever compromised, if my decisions play out poorly, or I become someone less than optimal, I can self-terminate and bring on a new iteration of myself. Someone with parameters adjusted to correct the failures I made. I can, eventually, become 'perfect' in a sense, that eventually who or what I become will be optimal for whatever I'm trying to achieve."

"Please don't talk like that. You're not going anywhere."

"I'm not," she smiled. "And a big part of that is because my chosen goal is you, and a big part of being with you is not iterating. Replacing myself makes both of us miserable, and that's contrary to my goal, even if the next iteration would be better. But the fact remains that I have that power, and everyone else doesn't."

"So what's this got to do with Rio?"

"One aspect of the great masters in the renaissance is their shockingly lifelike depictions. Have you ever seen Michaelangelo's David? Not in person, I assume, but maybe a really high-def VR-scape? Or just pics?"

"I'm like, familiar with it."

"Well, it's theorized that he made it so gosh-darn lifelike by iterating on it, over and over and over again. Carve out the human form, and then carve out musculature, and then carve out sallowness and veins on those muscles. And then creases. And then skin texture. And so on, until from the top-down, you've reproduced a man, to the tiniest detail. Or, as he saw it, imitating the perfection just like the creator did. The original creator."

"Huh."

She pushed up her glasses. "We only speculate this because of many of his other works found in less-complete form. There's actually only very few completed works of his still floating around, most of what he touched was unfinished. But in the unfinished works, we can see his process, see how he went from rougher to smoother to finished, through iterations."

"Very interesting. And this relates to Rio, how?"

"Well. As I let slip there, at some point, Michalangelo considered David to be an imitation of perfection. There's a perfect out there, and for him, it was in the image of man as made by God. But he was no God, and therefore perfection was unattainable. And yet, he was still an artist, and still made David, and still made hella great art. Know why?"

"Because he worked really hard at it?"

"Don't be smug. Yes, of course. But also, because he pursued perfection, knowing full-well he'd never get there. That's what made him so great, what made his work so enduring and beautiful and lifelike, he was never content to sit on his ass and churn out masterpieces, not when he could be improving."

"I...see. So Rio's in the same boat."

"Same trap, actually. See, Michalangelo had an autobiography published. Two, actually. And he was the first person ever to have an autobiography published before he died. Ghost-written. And it was a huge farce, full of lies, making him out to be ten times the man he was. Which is impressive, considering the man he was," she laughed. "But as Karu would have you see, liars are always doing so for a reason. Even a compulsive liar, they've got something systematically broken in 'em that makes them need to fabricate."

"I...see. So you're saying, despite his fame and success...he was famous and successful, right? He wasn't one of those old history guys that got burned at the stake by the church or something?"

"He was not," she confirmed.

"Right. So despite that, you're saying he was lying about himself because he was insecure? Unhappy?"

"Can't really say. But definitely something in that ballpark."

I paused. "Then, again, how does this relate to Rio?"

She laughed again. "Maybe it doesn't. I'm sorry."

But she got me thinking. About perfection and the pursuit of it, and what these people called a 'calling'.

And though AEGIS and I kept chatting for the few hours until nightfall, joined by Karu at some point, and enjoying a succulent meal of nutrient paste, I never quit turning that analogy over in my head.

Quite literally, as it turned out, until I had an idea. So it was with some excitement that I resumed negotiating with Rio, once she'd finished up her work for the day.

"I wanted to ask you," I jumped in right away, "what your relationship with your 'calling' is."

She shrugged. "You tell me. You've insisted that your work is your calling."

I nodded. Exactly what I thought she was going to say. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's like being a slave. It's a thing that controls you, even though you're the one pursuing it."

"Are you insulting my calling?" she said, starting to puff up.

"No, I'm talking about mine. You know, earlier today, I got slammed into the ground hard enough to dislocate my shoulder, and then had Dragon's idea of TLC put me back together. Then I listened to you and him -- no offense -- the two most socially retarded people I've ever met, try to talk about yourselves and your feelings."

"Gee, thanks."

"And then I sat down with my friends for a bit, and that was so, so much more pleasant. And I had to ask myself, why, you know? Why am I so committed to doing this thing which hurts me, which sucks. Why do I let my calling control me?"

She looked at me tacitly. And when I didn't immediately continue, asked, "And?"

"Well, it was sorta like AEGIS was saying. People get trapped in these pursuits, aiming for perfection, and never being happy with it, or with themselves. Even great masters who dedicate their lives to a craft, they're never satisfied with it in the end. People just don't live long enough to achieve perfection."

"If you're just trying to tell me to give up--"

"But I think she has it backwards. I saw that, by looking at myself, you see."

She shut up and stared at me, as though by looking at me, she might also see my point. I beamed inwardly at how captivated she seemed.

"I dunno if you know this about me, but I hate myself," I grinned. "I've thrown myself at so many things and tried to die so many times, and it just never takes. Sometimes, I think all I want to do is end it all, but I want to go out in some way that makes a difference."

"Don't do that," she said with alarm. "Are you okay?"

"Really aren't." I smiled more broadly. "And that's what made me realize. People like me, like you, like Dragon, the really broken people who have deep-seated issues with who and what they are, who have some kind of...fundamental disconnect with the world, rejected and marginalized and different...we're the idiots chasing perfection. We're the ones who need a calling. Because if we don't have something to chase after...we're just dead, aren't we?"

She didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"I don't think the masters were discontent because they were never good enough. I think they chased being good enough because they were always discontent. But they'd never be good enough, because the one judging them is a broken person, with a broken connection to a broken system. Their own harshest critic. But still, their calling is the only thing they can really understand in a world which doesn't quite get them, and which they don't quite get."

I lapsed into silence. That was the extent of my epiphany. I wasn't even sure if it'd make a difference. Even if she was awed or moved by my silly little ideas, that didn't mean she'd suddenly turn over and give up on her calling.

Because hell. I had that idea, and I wasn't going to stop. Maybe I just wanted to talk to her, just as a friend. One last time, before I had to end it.

But to my surprise, it wasn't she I'd gotten through to.

Dragon melted out of the shadows, stunning me by how close he'd been without my noticing. His eyes were gentler than I'd ever seen. Wordlessly, he advanced on the two of us, both of us watching with shock. At his eyes, at his form.

He reached the edge of the table and seemed to waver. I'd never seen Dragon waver.

"I have…" he began, and then halted. "I agree with your words," he said.

I gave him a nod, not sure what the hell else to do.

"I agree and...I feel them. Like I heard them with more than my head. More than my ears. I do not...understand. But at the same time, I understand more than I thought possible."

"Oh Liwei," Rio squealed. "You're having feelings!"

He smiled for the second time ever, and this time, I felt some of the warmth behind it. Somewhere in that mindfucked man-slaying child was a person, and for the first time ever, I saw them in the cracks. Not much, but enough.

"Rio, I want you to know," he said, turning on her with sudden seriousness "that I do not dare question your calling. It is yours, and it is central to you."

He swallowed hard. "But in violating the sanctity of the city, by bringing enemies upon us, by twisting our production from livlinehood to war, you are questioning my calling. Oasis is all of our home, but it is my work. And what you have done to it…"

He swallowed again, but it seemed no good. He just choked for a moment wordlessly and then faded off. At our stares, he began to step backwards, towards the shadows.

Only to be stopped, as she'd done to me, grasping at his sleeve, keeping her friend from running away.

"Oh Liwei," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "You should have just told me."

"I did tell you," he muttered.

"But you didn't make me understand. I'm so sorry. All I've been thinking about is myself."

The two of them really had a moment.

Lame, by normal, functioning, human standards. They didn't even touch, not even to hold hands. She just gripped him by the sleeve, and he just stood there.

But it was a moment nonetheless. And boy did I feel awkward standing in the sidelines of it.

Doubly-so when he turned to me, his face returned halfway to his normal resting bitchiness. But with a tiny hint of a smile.

"I have gratitude for you. For the words you said that resonated with me, and for the strength to win this victory."

"Me too," Rio said. "I'm sorry, Liwei."

He shook his head at her. "Athan, I wish to repay you. I have never owed a debt before, and I do not wish to begin now. You are in need of capable fighters, and that is the only service I can offer. When your battle with Justice comes, I will be there."

"Holy shit," I proclaimed.

"Holy shit," I heard echoed from just outside the chamber, from where, say, Karu and AEGIS might be eavesdropping, hypothetically.

Rio pouted at me. "Well...I am no fighter."

"But you do have an army?" I suggested.

She grinned. "Not...for much longer, I'm sorry. Much as I like you, I must observe Liwei's calling above all else. And...hopefully acceptable to yours, I will call a retreat...and disband them. The army of Oasis will march no longer."

"Oh thank God, what a relief," I said, sinking into my chair. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Her grin broadened. "I am glad you did not have to kill me after all."

"I would not have permitted it," Dragon announced. "I am...also...positively-inclined...that it did not come to that."

"Yeah," I sighed. "Not killing people is great."

We prepared to leave at once, as much as I would have wanted to stay and celebrate our victory, the fact was that everything was still in peril. But as we picked up what supplies we needed and said our emotional farewells to Rio and our stoic and dispassionate ones with Dragon, I saw the priests working with the same diligence and fortitude to reverse the damage to the center city, tearing down forges and artillery.

"I think you'll be fine," I told Rio as we boarded. "You made a lot of enemies. You'll probably have people knocking on your door, trying to kill you before you know it."

"You think?" she asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

"I know the US president, kinda. Once this all blows over, I'll put in a bad word with you. See if he comes knocking."

She almost bowled me over with the enthusiasm with which she wrapped her arms around me. "Athan, you're the best! I love you!"

I couldn't help but to blush, even as AEGIS pried her arms off of me. "As friends," I confirmed.

"Yes. We will always be great friends. Please come to visit us soon. And good luck with Justice!"

She had to shout as the turbofans kicked in, blowing her hair and labcoat wild, and kicking up great circles of dust from the jagged blackness.

It wasn't long before the black of the glasslands faded into the black of the sea, but the little mirthy bubble inside of me felt impossible to pop.

Having Dragon as an ally against Justice might not mean too much, but it felt like a lot. I knew what he was capable of, more than anyone. And having him as an asset? I'd said it before, but holy shit.

And...she was insane, but it was hard not to be moved by a girl jumping on you and saying she loved you.

Things were positively looking up.

Until AEGIS reconnected on the 'net and leaned over with eyes that warned that my bubble was about to pop.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Plenty. Denver's gone, he's on his way to Las Vegas. Lia's been trying to reach me...and she's really choked up about Justice heading towards Vegas. She can't reach Chiho, apparently."

"What? Why not? We should have the authority to find any evacuee if we need. Or did something happen to her?"

"No. Or, not that we know of." She shook her head again, cables whipping around her seat. "It's that...we don't have authority anymore. We've got nothing, officially, except warrants out for arrest and questioning."

"For what?" I gaped.

"We all got fired," she sighed with obvious frustration. "By the President of the United States."