Chapter Fifty-Six - Speaking Up

“North America is an interesting study in the long-term effects of propaganda. Most countries have a strong media presence that constantly repeats to their citizens that their country is the best.

The US’ propaganda arm was both subversive and constant, and its citizens ate it up.

That was, until everything fell apart.”

--Excerpt from A History of Patriotism and Propaganda, 2031

***

“You’ve been busy,” Gomorrah said as I sat down next to her.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said.

It certainly wasn’t wrong. Lucy and I had spent the better part of two hours standing in more or less the same spot and talking to an entire ensemble of people. I think Lucy had planned it, first targeting some social folk who would welcome her questions, and then waiting for their plus-ones to come and join in on the conversation. That eventually led to more and more folk approaching us. I think the plan was to create a space where it was acceptable to just come over and chat.

I’d shaken more hands in those two hours than I had in the last eighteen years.

It was probably for the best though, that I didn’t get more than two or three minutes to chat with each person. Any more than that and Lucy butted in to guide them to some other conversation--in a manner that was disturbingly similar to how she handled the kittens--but I managed to mention that I was here because Burringham agreed to help me fix the sewers a dozen times.

Some of those people were important looking guys and gals, CEOs and shit, and a lot of them seemed pretty eager to impress.

They reminded me a bit of the younger kids at the orphanage, the way they looked up to Lucy and I and really wanted to make us... care or whatever about their little companies and their recent promotions and shit.

And just like the kids at the orphanage, I figured I could get them to do shit for me, just because of that desire to impress.

It was seriously strange, and entirely exhausting.

“I’m more tired now than after that night we spent in those caves,” I said.

“Caves?” Frannie asked. She was sitting on Gomorrah’s other side, nursing a rather fancy (though I imagined non-alcoholic) drink.

“They were mines,” Gomorrah said. “This little nowhere town called Black Bear. They had a small off-shoot of the last incursion to hit the city.”

“Gom and I cleaned it up,” I said. “It wasn’t all that fun.”

Lucy shifted in her seat next to me. “You didn’t tell me all that much about it,” she said.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t all that interesting? I mean, it was scary. We had to scout through these big caves.”

“Tunnels. Or more precisely mineshafts,” Gomorrah corrected. “The antithesis dug themselves in and started to collect biomass. I think the idea was that they’d be hard to root out after a while and then they would spread out more.”

“I mean, to be fair, it kind of almost worked? If it wasn’t for Deus Ex and her weird Family gang finding them, they might have grown for a while. I guess. They did attack the town though, so maybe not.”

“I’m sure the two of you were very brave,” Lucy said.

“Cat kept blowing things up, usually while within the blast radius,” Gomorrah tossed me under the bus.

“And you almost lit me on fire,” I shot back. “Like... several times.”

“But you both came out of it alive and well, right?” Lucy asked. “So I guess you worked well together.”

I turned towards Lucy. “We’re not kittens, stop doing the whole ‘work together nicely’ thing on us.”

“Kittens?” Frannie asked.

“Cat here has a group of children that she keeps,” Gomorrah said.

Frannie turned towards me. “Keeps how?”

“We’re all from the same orphanage. I’m not about to send them back.”

“Is anyone trying to adopt them now?” Frannie asked.

“I mean, no, but I figure they’re still better off. Hell, I know they are. The orphanage sure as hell didn’t match up to our penthouse. You’ve seen the place, it’s nice. Besides, we bought a building and are remodelling it. It’s gonna be real nice. The brats will have proper rooms and shit, it’s going to be great.”

“I feel like I should be worried about the state of those kids,” Frannie said.

Gomorrah shook her head. “No. Cat might be a little strange, but she does care for her equally strange family, I think.”

“I’m a perfectly acceptable parental figure,” I said, then I proceeded to ignore Gomorrah’s disbelieving laughter and the way Lucy patted my knee under the table.

“There’re a lot of people that still want to talk to you, you know,” Lucy said. She twitched her eyes to the side, and a glance in that direction revealed a few little pairs of people not too far from our table. They were mostly talking to each other, but it didn’t seem entirely animated, and it didn’t take an expert in body language to see that they were all sort of facing our way.

“Why aren’t they coming over?” I asked.

“Manners, I’d guess,” Lucy said. “There’s a sort of... social pressure thing that says that you can only approach someone important when they’re willing to talk. When we were schmoozing it up early we were open and ready for that. Now we’re all closed off.”

“That sounded vaguely sexual,” I said.

“That’s because you’re a pervert,” Lucy said matter-of-factly. Frannie nodded from her end of the table.

“So, what do you suggest we do, oh Lucy, great social expert?”

“We let them chill out. Maybe do more talking after the food’s served? It’ll make it seem like talking to you is more of a privilege if some people get snubbed.”

“You seem honestly good at this kind of thing,” Gomorrah said. “Would you advise me on what to do?”

“Whatever you want. Cat’s put herself out there as someone that’s willing to at least talk to important people, which is probably going to be both good and bad. They’ll think she’s reachable, so they might ask her for help, or offer things, and both of those could be either good or bad, I guess.”

“Great,” I said. I think my voice made it clear that I thought it was anything but.

Lucy leaned into my side. “Don’t worry, Myalis and I can tell anyone trying to do product placements and stuff like that to piss off.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” I said.

I sat up a little straighter as someone walked out from the crowd surrounding our end of the hall and walked right up to our table. Burringham, and his faithful secretary. He grinned as he sat across from me.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey yourself,” he replied. “You’ve made quite the splash tonight, both of you. I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourselves.”

“It’s not too bad,” I said. “Though I’m starting to wonder when the food will come around.”

He nodded to his secretary whose eyes went blank while she stared at her clipboard-pad-thing. “I’ll make sure you only have the best. It’ll be worth the wait, promise. I just wanted to say hi and make sure things were going well. I know we agreed that I’d work on the sewer issue--which is important enough that it needs to be addressed anyway--but I was wondering if there was anything else. I’m about to make a small speech, and while it’s last minute, I might be able to squeeze in a mention of any passing issues you have.”

“That’s awfully kind of you,” Gomorrah said with more diplomacy than I could probably muster. “I appreciate the gesture, but I think that, like Cat, I’m mostly focused on bettering the city, and myself.”

“You really are New Montreal’s gems,” Burringham said. He tapped the table, then pushed himself up. “I’ll be back after my little speech. Don’t worry, it won’t be too boring. At least, I hope it won’t be.”

“Break a leg,” I said.

Burringham left, his secretary trailing after him again. It didn’t take long for the crowds to start to disperse, enough that we could make out Burringham on stage, grinning and laughing with someone before he stepped up to a podium. “Hello everyone,” he said.

That quieted down the last of those talking, and there was a sudden rush of people going to their seats.

“Don’t worry everyone, I won’t talk your ears off. I haven’t eaten either, and having passed by the kitchens I can think of little else but chowing down,” Burringham said. He was smiling, and despite the unfunniness of his joke, it still got a few easy chuckles from the crowd. “Today is a very special day. We’re here to meet each other, trade some good gossip, and have a good time, but I’d like to take just a moment of everyone’s time to talk about a few important things.”

I reached up and wrapped an arm around Lucy’s shoulders. I didn’t believe that it would be short, not for a moment.

“First, I’d like to thank you all for coming. It would have been quite embarrassing if none of you showed up to my gala.”

Catherine. I thought it would be wise to inform you that there’s a person with a gun across the room. They seem to be about to fire on Jeff Burringham.

“Fuck,” I said.

I knew things were going to go pear-shaped.

***