Vee stared at Associate Director Lewellen, her fur-lined hood trying to blow its way across her eyes and block her view of his expression.

“But you’re saying it was you; you’re the one who sent the pulses to Rel.”

With his hands in his coat pockets, the AD shrugged. “That is a complicated question. I’ve been walking a tightrope here between salvaging my job and loyalty to a friend – the directives have contradicted each other several times recently. Not only that, I am not the only one interested in your Rel, and from what you are saying there may be some evidence that other parties have enhanced the effects to a level I did not approve. I can’t tell for sure, but I can’t do much to find out – you can’t understand how vital it is that this remain between us.”

“If I show up unannounced at the home of Tomás DeSoto, someone will notice.”

“Not his home,” countered Marquis. “His office. They moved him to his office, but no one has had contact with him since he woke up. No one can know that he has.”

“How do you know?” Vee challenged.

“Tomás and I are friends from grade school. There is not much I wouldn’t do for him, and he knows it. There’s not much he would ask that I would need to question.”

Vee sighed. “Not much…like manipulating emotions?”

If Vee had expected a confession, she would be disappointed. Maybe because AD Lewellen knew she couldn’t cast stones – not after her compromises for Rel.

“If Tomás asks, I will give him some leeway. It would have to be blatantly wrong for me to refuse.”

“That’s quite the recommendation…” Vee narrowed her eyes skeptically.

“He’s an amazing person. You get over there and find out what happened to him.”

“And you’re asking me to do this?”

“A long history of disregarding protocol?” Marquis laughed. “That, and your recent interactions with Rel Martins.”

Suddenly anxious, Vee stared at the director, adopting the most neutral expression she could manage.

AD Lewellen laughed. “You’re really good at that,” he gibed. “You should be a spy or something.”

“Gave that up to sit at a desk,” she deadpanned, still not cracking her stoicism.

“Just find out what he wants us to know. He seemed pretty shaken, and Tomás doesn’t shake.”

“I guess,” Vee finally let her cool warm a little, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I was actually pretty pleased to see you had connected with Mr. Martins. That young man is unusually determined and highly ethical. It’s a rare combination. It’s a combination I saw in you, and I didn’t want to risk that I would have to fire you.”

“But Rel was dispensable.”

Marquis shrugged again. “He was. If he makes it past this, he won’t be. If you have the opportunity, he could use some guidance right about now.” He leveled her a significant look, and Vee shot him a glare before turning and exiting the office. When she saw Rel again, she would have to ask him about it.

++++++++++++++++

On the drive to the restaurant, the sky darkened from grey afternoon to shimmering dusk, and Hazel’s excitement settled with the night. A pang of guilt hit Hazel when she remembered that she had not contacted Sophie, but things had happened so quickly, and Hazel’s compromised position when Peter had arrived home had stripped the thought from her mind. If Peter had a moment of distraction, Hazel would send Sophie an apology.

Peter managed to behave himself on the journey, and as Hazel glanced over at him, she recognized Performance Peter. Maybe he had started out planning to take her to dinner, but when they exited that car, Peter would be on display, and he would expect her to be the same.

Fortunately, the maître d’ hustled them through a side door and immediately into a private room. Only a handful of other patrons, largely bored-looking, had even had the opportunity to see Hazel with Peter. The waitstaff and the general manager, though, were in and out of the room constantly. Hazel couldn’t decide if it made her feel better or worse that Peter seemed not to notice them.

Strangely, Peter appeared more real sitting in that restaurant than she had seen him since the first days after the Crash, as if he was so uncomfortable in his own skin that he was only at rest when he was pretending to be Mr. Successful. The realization brought a pang to Hazel’s chest, but she suppressed any urge to compassion.

Instead, she used the more public venue to delve into some risky questions, ones she had been unwilling to ask while she was alone with him in his apartment. She believed she knew the truth, but she wanted to hear the words from his own lips.

“So,” she began, “SOA Haywire…” She watched his expression carefully to see if he betrayed any interest or irritation. She thought she saw a hint of the latter. “That night the Queue car ran after me, have you looked into how that happened? I thought about it as soon as you told me about Haywire, but it’s kind of slipped my mind with all the stuff that’s happened.”

“I don’t think it had anything to do with them.” He didn’t answer her question.

“Yeah, if they are such activists for the Wire, it would be strange for them to have a ground server on premises.”

If Pete had noticed her assertion, he did not betray his understanding, so Hazel pressed on.

“I would think that a group like that would get more press. I mean, everyone has heard of SOA, and pretty much no one likes them for obvious reasons, so a group that specifically opposes them? Seems like it would be pretty obvious.”

Peter gestured to a waiter who brought out the second round of appetizers, a delicate salad with figs and goat cheese. “I think SOA gets a bad rap anyway,” Peter insisted as he tucked into the salad with expert manners.

When did he get those? Hazel wondered.

“The SOA have never made any overt moves to undermine the Bridge or the Wire. They seem entirely to stick to philosophical attacks – trolling chatrooms and forums and broadcasts. If that’s all they do, they don’t really hurt anything. And they have some good points.”

“Like what?” Hazel wondered, genuinely shocked.

“Well…” Peter looked directly at Hazel for the first time since they had sat down to eat. “You ought to appreciate some of their philosophy. They don’t like the idea that a huge, global entity could be hijacked or manipulated to steal private information or to affect the internal well-being of billions of people.”

“You sound like you agree with them,” Hazel worried. “I would think you would be the biggest fan of the Bridge around.”

Peter shrugged. “The Bridge is a thousand times safer than the Platform, and the Wire is similarly superior to Pins, but the entire thing was managed wrong from the beginning – fifty years ago. I piggybacked off the old system, and it was just too unified.”

“You fixed the problems with the reboot feature, didn’t you?”

“I fixed one problem. That didn’t fix the other. No one but I - certainly, no one event – can accidentally turn off a Wire and kill someone. Still, someone who could get onto the Bridge could access anyone’s Wire and manage a ton of damage, and if the government decided to be intrusive into people’s lives – to control them? The Wire couldn’t stop it. Accessing individual Wire’s would take people like Sophie’s dad coming on board and allowing them through his security measures, and if an unethical man comes on board with that? What would happen to my system when he retires or dies? What happens when I die? Fifty years after that? The Wire and the Bridge can be pretty dangerous together. And the fact that the Bridge runs both the military systems that could destroy the world and the minds that could make the decision to do that? It’s a horrible idea.”

Despite her suspicions about Pete, she couldn’t ignore his words - they made too much sense. In fact, the thought terrified her. When she thought of Sophie lying in that bed, though? When she thought about watching as Sophie’s back arched and the monitors screamed and Tomás DeSoto smashed that vase against the wall. When she thought of Manny and Freddy and Bandwidth. When she multiplied that times a hundred or more…Did Peter’s concerns justify that?

Of course, his words made sense. She just couldn’t make herself believe it. That was how he brought people along behind him – how he sold people on the bridge in the first place – because he believed what he sold. If facts didn’t align with his beliefs, he just figured out how to alter the facts. He was so brilliant that he somehow managed it. If things went on as he planned, in six months, in a year, people would believe what Peter wanted them to believe. Only people like Hazel would remember the Sophies and the Freddys. From what Hazel had seen in life, there were not a lot of people like herself.

Maybe in another era, in a time and place where there were kings or emperors who could unilaterally decide the fates of men, Peter might have been justified in bringing down the system. But for the time being, the only emperor who could determine men’s fate sat across from her at the dinner table.

No one but I…he had said. How had Hazel been so wrapped up in her little world that she had not seen who Peter was? In a way he was right - she’d never had enough power to have a say in the big picture. Still, she could recognize an unhinged concept when she heard it. “So, if you had to choose, which one would you choose?” Hazel wondered.

“I’m sorry, what?” Peter queried.

“You designed the Wire and the Bridge. If you had to pick one to preserve which one would it be?”

Suspicion washed over Peter’s face, and Hazel stuffed a fig into her mouth to mask any expression of guilt. “I guess…” he finally explained, “that the Wire is a safer technology. The problem with the Crash was not just the inadequate technology of the Pins; it was the fact that a systemic issue on the Platform was able to affect so many people at once. If the Wire were managed by local ground servers – governed by smaller entities - any issue would be isolated. It’s a much better plan.”

“But you’re the one who came up with the Bridge.”

“I underestimated the difficulty of dealing with governments. Almost as soon as I handed the Bridge off to the governments, I realized the potential issues. There is way too much politics involved with governments, and if some future banana republic gets a foothold over the technology, the Wire could be used as a tool for manipulation or coercion.”

“Makes sense; if someone wanted to control the Bridge, all they would have to do is mess with the satellites. There are only five of them that manage the actual Bridge infrastructure – the others just run the Stream. You could access those four through the Bridge and then control the Bridge from them. It’s too interconnected.”

“Right…” Peter conceded, and Hazel did not like the look in his eye.

Mentioning the satellites had bothered him, but in reality, her statements followed fairly naturally from his assertion. Peter had seemed disturbed by it nonetheless.

“But even if someone had control of the satellites, there are failsafes in place. Surely, it’s not that easy to just manipulate people’s Wires. Someone would notice.” She took a risk. “To mess with the Wires, you’d have to get past a lot of security – even with control of the Bridge. And to do that, a lot of powerful people would have to look the other way…”

As soon as she said the words, she realized that she had gone too far.

Without a word, Pete rose to his feet, and Hazel watched with apprehension as he crossed to the door and pulled it shut. He apparently linked directly to the general manager. “I need some privacy for a few minutes,” he spoke to the air. “Keep your people away until I contact you again.”

If she read the relationship between the two men correctly, Peter Donovan got what he wanted. No one would be coming to the room until he said otherwise. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t call Sophie in to help her, and Rel had not left her on the best of terms. Peter held the entire restaurant and apparently all the staff at his beck and call. Was it really a good idea to stir things up?

“What’s going on, Peter?” she hedged. “This is not really the place to play around.”

The deflection didn’t work, and Peter crossed to her side of the table, using his rarely-utilized strength to yank her to her feet.

“You tell me what’s going on, Hazel…” He stalked forward, backing her against a brick outcropping that stood along one wall. His breath heated her neck as she turned to the side, a very different sensation than the same move in the elevator.

“What are you talking about? What’s wrong?” All of her extremely ephemeral bravery had evaporated, and she found herself quaking with genuine fear. What kind of privacy did Peter’s money buy? Could he hurt her and get away with it? Did she really think he would do it? Her Peter?

His face softened, and he brush the back of his hand against her cheek – he hoped he was wrong, that she hadn’t been corrupted by the NCB agent’s ideas. “Convince me, Hazel, that you only asked those questions because you were curious. That you only made the comments because you are smart enough to think of them all on your own.”

“Peter,” she whispered, and he riveted her eyes with his. “I don’t understand. Did I do something? Did I say something? What questions? What comments?” Fortunately for her, her policy of avoidance meant that she had gotten really good at deflecting, answering questions with questions and, in so doing, not providing an answer.

He stared at her lips for a moment, finally weaving his fingers into her hair so that he could pull her mouth to his. For several minutes, she stood powerless, pressed between the cool brick and Peter’s heat, but when he released her, he did not apologize or explain. He gave no indication whether or not he believed her feigned ignorance.

“Come finish your dinner,” he ordered, and he seemed to link the GM again, ordering the man to bring in the main meal.

Obediently, Hazel followed him back to the table.

+++++++++++++++++

As she ascended the forty-story building, Vee steeled herself against her nerves. She had sat in an office for the past four years, only engaging with someone else’s subject on the most peripheral of bases. Now she was coming out of her cave, not only for one of the biggest events in her lifetime, but to talk to one of the most powerful people in the world.

Truthfully, the office Vee was shown into by a middle-aged woman in a neat suit was the opposite of ostentatious. Almost quaint. More like a half-price bookstore than an office. Stacks of paper books lined the walls, and several tables stood around the room, all stacked with books, open and closed, and journals with scribbled notes all around.

The man introduced as Mr. DeSoto stood behind his desk, staring out the small window that overlooked the little park next door. With salt-and-pepper hair, he could have been anywhere from thirty-nine to fifty, and he looked about average height, maybe a little below. Agent Vee took in all the surroundings and catalogued them away for analysis; the woman Vee had trouble keeping herself from staring at his incredibly handsome, warmly-tanned face.

Maybe money can make men pretty, too, she warned herself cynically. Besides, the man had just endured some incredibly difficult days, and Vee had been sent because she was trusted to act responsibly. She adopted her most professional demeanor and awaited his greeting.

When he noticed her, his face lit up politely.

“Ms. Garrison,” he introduced, stepping around the table to take her hand. “I so appreciate your visit. I am Tomás DeSoto. AD Lewellen speaks highly of you, and I know that Rel Martins is also a fan. So that makes three of us at least. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate what you did for my daughter.”

Vee’s mouth pressed into a self-conscious smile. “It was part of the job, and it was the right thing to do. I am very glad your daughter is okay.”

“It is part of the job, but it is a very complicated and delicate part of the job, and few would have the discernment to know how to apply the principles you used in your decision. In fact, I could use someone like you in my company – if you ever tire of NCB, and if I am still a free man after you and I talk. Please have a seat.” He pointed to a comfortable leather chair that sat beside a small round table – one of the only ones not stacked with books.

Though his words shocked her, Vee exercised the stoicism AD Lewellen had complimented her on and just accepted the offered chair.

“I admit that I have been a coward,” Mr. DeSoto began, “but in my defense, I was protecting my daughter. I was desperate. I made some very bad choices.”

“Mr. DeSoto, slow down.”

“Tomás,” he corrected.

“Tomás, what did you do. What is the issue? Why am I here?”

“About a month ago…” He stared at his hands as he wove and unwove his fingers from each other. “…I was contacted by an anonymous person who explained to me that he needed me to overlook certain security markers – identifiers and alarm monitors – that I otherwise would be reporting to the government. Several governments, in fact, since I oversee security measures for over one hundred fifty governments – including most of the first world. If I do not do it directly, I provide technology or software for most of them, and my people troubleshoot for their people. This gives me access at the highest levels. Of course, I did not reply to this request because, for one, I receive thousands of messages per week with strange and outlandish requests, but for another, this is something I would never do.”

A slight Latania accent softened his words as he grew more serious, and Vee sensed the stress under his stoic demeanor.

“A week later, my daughter was involved in an accident in a Queue car – one also involving a young woman I believe you know, Ms. Hazel Hops.”

“Yes, I’ve met her a few times.”

“I have always believed Hazel was a wonderful girl, but I am uncertain now of what I know.”

“Hazel?” For the life of her, Vee could not imagine what Hazel could have done.

“Please do not misunderstand – I have no certainty on this. I guess I preface to explain myself, and I should not. I should just take responsibility.”

Tomás stood to his feet and began to pace. “Sophie was in a coma, you understand…And Peter had just sent her into cardiac arrest because I tried to persuade him to stop his plan. I could not let him use Sophie again, and I found out that Hazel was in a position of…privilege with him. I did not know whether she was involved in his plan, though I did not think so. And if she were, what I did is half of what she deserved. I still cannot figure out how the fire system failed.”

“Fire system?”

“I was the one who started the fire at Hazel’s apartment building. Dios mio! If anyone had died, I never would have forgiven myself! It was supposed to be small, a little damage to her apartment alone so that she would either move to Peter or to Sophie. Either would have helped me. It was a stupid idea.” He cursed in some language Vee did not speak. “I am beyond horrified at myself. Now Hazel is staying with Peter. Maybe Sophie can convince her to stay at my home instead. Ms. Garrison, I am afraid I have placed an innocent girl in danger.”

Blowing out a breath, Vee reined in her shock and remained seated, tapping on the table. “What you are saying is that you caused the fire that destroyed the homes of thirty people?”

Steeling himself, Tomás turned to face Vee. “I did.”

“Since AD Lewellen sent me to you, I am assuming that whatever I decide will only go to him. And for the time being, I am willing to tell him that you caused some destruction to property while under duress. Once I have finished my investigation, I will determine what culpability that duress leaves to you and what it places on the hands of others. That being said, I need you to be very clear. You mentioned that ‘Peter’ sent your daughter into cardiac arrest due to your interference in his ‘plan.’ I need you to explain: who is Peter, and what is his plan?”

“Peter Donovan, claro. And his plan to destroy the Bridge.”

Vee felt her eyes blink several times. It wasn’t that she hadn’t suspected Donovan of something – she had. But for one, she had not expected Tomás DeSoto to state it so blatantly; and for the other, it made no sense whatsoever for Peter Donovan to destroy his own creation.

“I see your shock,” Tomás smiled. “And I understand. It took me quite a while and some serious computer work to figure out exactly what he was doing – not that I have fully grasped it. But he is an ideologue with an eye to personal profit.”

“There could not be much more profit for him than what he has.”

“True, but he has relinquished quite a bit of power to governments. His new scheme has set up a situation where he can maintain his control of the system and take it away from the governments. By the time everything has happened, most political entities will be in chaos. No one will be able to hold him accountable.”

“How exactly does he plan to manage this?”

“The ground servers. He has them set up to run the Bridge as soon as the satellite receivers are down. At first, the only people who will register a difference are the governments who are switched automatically to their backup data centers, and the people who maintain the satellites.”

“He has enough ground servers to run the entire Bridge?”

“The infrastructure maybe. Not the Stream, where all the information resides – a lot of superfluous information that isn’t necessary to actually run the Bridge. The Bridge, though? That confused me at first, too, but the Bridge itself probably needs about forty data centers to function, approximately ten per satellite. Then he needs a ton of other servers to manage the information once he ‘reopens’ the Bridge as ground-based. Do you know how many kids are in comas right now across the globe? About the same number as data centers we have detected. He used a large network of anti-Wire activists to reinstate the servers and hardware. He used the kids to force relevant authorities to redirect their attention.”

Vee pursed her lips skeptically. “I find it hard to believe that there is not one person who has stood up to him on this.”

Looking away, Tomás shook his head. “There is a very heavy price to pay for those who try to resist his plan. As evidenced by me and my Sophie.”

“So, why are you suddenly so willing to talk to me?”

At the question, Tomás finally looked back at Vee, stepping toward her and reaching for her hand with both of his. “First of all, because Marquis trusts you, so I trust you. And secondly…” He released her hand, grinning and tapping his temple. “I am officially Wire-free. My Wire is currently residing in a room about two hundred feet from here on the other side of the building, connected to a machine that mimics my comatose vitals.”

Vee caught his enthusiasm. “So, as long as Donovan believes you’re out, your daughter is safe. He will have no idea that you are talking to us…and no idea that we are working against him. But…” Her excitement waned. “…do we stop the satellite attacks or do we free all of the kids? I mean, as a government agent, I have to think of protecting the infrastructure. But what will he do to all those kids if we stop him and he is still in control of their Wires? Will he hurt them just because he has lost? How can I in good conscience leave the kids connected?”

“But if you tip him off by going after the satellites? Besides that danger, it is actually quite difficult to cut the power to the data centers. Can you imagine the politics involved?” He sat back down next to Vee, and they looked at each other. “I had thought that I had solved this problem.”

“Do you have a timeline?” Vee queried.

“This weekend. He is planning it for Sunday when there are fewer workers at the sites in most locations and so fewer people to notice and report the issues.”

“Three days…”

“Three days.” Tomás confirmed.

“Even if I can figure out what to do, I don’t have a lot of time to do it.”