Mendel took off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. When he put them back on, reality hadn’t gone back to normal. “Mr Chang, it sounds suspiciously like you are trying to use us to defect from UAAF. Not even just you, but your whole district.”

Xi laughed. “No, that would be ridiculous,” he said, and let them both breathe freely. “Defecting would mean I think that America is in some way going to survive this as well. This isn’t about joining the winning side, it’s about creating the winning side.”

Mendel nodded and sent Iris a message with his neural implant. “Keep your mouth shut.” Then to Xi, he spoke, “My father always said to go with the flow. Be like grass, bend to the wind, because the winds will change and yet the grass remains.”

“Your father was a very humble man.”

“My father survived two weeks of artillery bombardment in the Ural Mountains, fighting over a uranium mine that didn’t even have any uranium left in it. He had night terrors that no drugs could fix and beat me more than once, until he came to his senses and realized I wasn’t a UAAF child soldier creeping through the darkness to strangle him.”

Xi’s smile went away. He set his whiskey down. “One of the bureau's many mistakes.”

Mendel shrugged. “Perfectly rational when they thought there still was uranium down there. It took another four years to finish the breeder reactors. What else were they supposed to do? Blackouts kill, of course we’d go to war over that. Famine? That’s a whole ‘nother level of shit hitting the fan. And you know what? I learned from my father that it’s better to be on the side that gets to sleep at night…”

Mendel glanced at Iris. She had used her computer interface to stifle her expressions and emotions. She was the picture of a demure servant, a machine. Inside, she didn’t know what she was about to do, depending on what her boss said next.

“Blumhagen is a larger organization than just myself, Mr. Chang. I’ll need a good nights sleep and some time to spread the news. As a show of good faith, I would like you to hand over Dr. White to corroborate the current state of international affairs.”

Xi smiled again. “A show of good faith, of course, but deserves one in kind.” Both men glanced at Iris.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“Iris, how are your injuries?” Mendel asked.

“My damages have been repaired,” she lied. The cosmetics facility hadn’t done anything to tune up her motors and muscle fibers that had been damaged by Roselyn’s electric attacks.

“Why don’t you stay the night in one of our hotels?” Xi offered.

Iris scowled, and her boss agreed it was a good idea. A few hours later, she was on the fortieth floor of a skyscraper overlooking the harbor, a jump even she wouldn’t survive. Without any of her weapons, the only thing she could do was pretend to stare at the television while switching between different EM ranges to look at all the guards Xi had posted like improvised prison bars. It was at least a polite prison cell.

Silvy called her. “I cannot believe Mendel did that.”

“Silvy, you and I both know this is being monitored.”

“I don’t care! Let that fuck face pretty boy Chang listen. This is bullshit and everyone’s acting like it ain’t.”

“The boss needs time to negotiate. I can keep myself occupied for a day or so. Not like these only-humans with guns are a real threat to me…”

“But the principle of the matter!”

Someone knocked on the door. Iris started, realized she had been too absorbed with Silvy to notice that someone had approached. “Talk to you later,” she said, cutting the call with Silvy. Not just someone, but Xi Chang had arrived. He stepped back politely as she opened the door, and gestured down the hall to the rooftop patio. “Care for a talk?”

She considered saying no, that she had been ordered not to. Instead, she set a record function and said, “Sure. I’m surprised the governor has so much free time on his hands.”

Xi chuckled. “The process of government has largely been automated. The big breakthrough was in artificial intelligence last century. Once machines could actually guide people through the paperwork, ninety percent of government work evaporated.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“Policing and PR,” Xi said. They stepped out onto the balcony. It was a stylish patio, but with a deserted feel. She could see bars that should have had bartenders. Pools that should have had loungers. The entire floor had been cleared out for her however. The mix drink machines hummed by themselves, churning multi-colored slush and shifting bottles like some mechanical clock show.

“So what makes me of interest to either your policing or your PR?”

Xi gestured to the bar and headed over. “The great Iris Haber? After what you’ve done? There are people in the know who say you’re the strongest woman… strongest person alive.”

She sat down with him, but didn’t turn her shoulders towards him. “People, huh? Would they be the nebulous they?”

“Oh, of course not. The nebulous they are too busy dealing with the divine to bother with something as petty as fighting. I’m talking about the bookies. There are gamblers, you know? Rich people all over the world who need a bit of thrill and speculation in their lives. They dream of the lost Olympics, and find the War Games to be a paltry replacement. E-Sports too easily rigged.”

“I was just on a train full of airheads that liked to gamble on stupidity.”

“Stupid people bet on stupid things. Rich people bet on rich things. Like property values.”

“Or HAB unit death matches?”

“When they aren’t preparing their fallout shelters, yes.”

“I wouldn’t happen to know any of these rich people, would I?”

“The Shermans put a bet on you against their own girl, Roselyn. Said they wouldn’t have chosen the fight if they could help it, but you came hurtling at them with such speed, they couldn’t arrange something better for their interests.”

“Isn’t it uncouth to have their own horse in the race like that?” Iris asked.

Xi shrugged and gestured at the machine. It accepted some kind of signal and began dispensing him a frozen sugar bomb of some variety. “You say that like there’s some kind of governing body, and even if there were, what would it matter? The people that they took money from won’t be part of the winning team in the end. Would you like a drink?”

“No thank you. I can’t uptake alcohol anyways.”

Xi clucked his tongue and shook his head. “What a shame. We could have such a feature installed for you, if you’d like.”

Iris couldn’t imagine something she would like less than United Asia digging around inside her body. “Maybe in a more peaceful time.”

Xi took a drink and asked, “Where are you from?”

“Don’t you have my file?”

“It’s polite to ask.”

“New California. My parents both worked in Romulus arms manufacturing plants. Did wonders to keep them out of wars and keep them paid. I had a pleasant childhood, one step away from the violence.”

Xi grinned, but it didn't touch his eyes. She wasn’t sure whether that was a bug or a feature. “Do they have bartenders where you come from?”

“Of course.”

“It’s silly though, isn’t it? Look, I just got myself a drink with a thought. The whole thing was automated, just like clerical work. The job is completely unnecessary.”

Iris frowned. Her grasp of the conversation felt like she was holding onto sand. “The bartender’s job is to give drink recommendations and break up idle conversations so people keep buying drinks and have a good time at the establishment.”

“And that can’t be done by machine? Do you think a bartender is a better judge of what you would like to drink than a neural net program that is given a picture of your reaction to every drink you’ve ever had in your life, compressed into a data file, analyzed, and mapped to their available selection of drinks? Because, maybe it’s different in America, but here the bartenders just suggest whatever is popular.”

“Is there a point to this? People like the human element.”

“My point is that a bartender is like any other piece of human civilization. It’s fake work. It’s something there to soak up the labor of people to justify them getting food, water, shelter, security. We’ve tried in the past giving these things to people. Turns out you can’t give them security from their own bad impulses. Humans need to labor, to suffer for what they get, but this ultimate truth has run afoul of nature herself. No amount of labor can make food appear out of nothing.”

The city around them had a certain din of noise to it. People talking, music playing, wind against buildings, and so on. It lacked the droning mess that cars had once made, and certainly didn’t have mewling cats or bleating livestock. The rampant kudzu, like a national security stockpile, muffled the noises of people getting on with their lives. “So that’s what you’re bringing to the table? A surplus of labor to beg for food privileges?”

Xi scowled and drained the last of his drink. He glared at the city and asked, “What else can Taiwan offer but the sweat of its people? We’re an island, an overpopulated one at that. Even if we don’t become dependent on food, we’ve always been dependent on the medicine produced by the bureau. That’s how they balance their budgets. Did you know that? Taxes are too crude and barbaric. Now they charge for vaccinations and treatments, and if people refuse, we’ll have another blight outbreak and they’ll sell us the guns and bullets to put it down.”

Iris’ breath caught. “I thought everyone on this side of the world was naturally immune?”

“Maybe a few generations ago. Not anymore. Not since they centralized the testing methodology during the wars. People in power do whatever they can to keep their power.”

“Just like you?”

“Just like me. That’s why I’m here to ask for your help. It’s only a matter of time before the next war breaks out. I need to be on BISON’s side before it’s too late.”

“What, precisely, do you mean by ‘before it’s too late’?”

Xi rose. “You know Mendel better than I do. Is Blumhagen going to play ball? Are you going to cooperate with me?”

Iris rose and took a step back. She could see the shift in his unconscious mannerisms, the sway of his body decreasing as he raised his reflexes and his perception of time. “Come on, you and I both know it’s me you need, not Blumhagen.”

“So are you going to help me?”

“You already know the answer to that question. I’m guessing Blumhagen’s ship already forced its way out of the harbor?”

“And left you behind, with me, without so much as a gun to defend yourself. Not the best of friends, if you ask me.”

A musical ringing interrupted their conversation. Xi pulled out an antique cell phone. Iris figured it had something to do with secure communications, air gapping as a political safety measure. The technology was quaint, but it carried Commander Mendel’s voice over the loud speaker. “Mr Chang, I just got off the line with Mr. Sherman. He told me all about Project Dragon Seed.”

Xi didn’t seem to know whether to smile or leap to his feet and call his guards. It gave him a complicated look as he stared at the phone. “I thought that was just a rumor. A pipe dream. It seems you have the advantage of me, Mr. Mendel.”

“I must say, I’m impressed,” Mendel said. “That’s some real, top notch villainy you’ve got there. Unilaterally Assured Destruction as it were.”

Xi cleared his throat. “Then you must understand the importance of cooperating with the Shermans.”

“I understand why a coward like you would hide beneath their skirts and beg for their protection. I bet you like having their boot on you. Blumhagen isn’t like that. So, I regret to inform you that we will not be working with you.”

Xi leapt up and slammed a fist through his glass. Shards went flying as he screamed, “Then I will cut off Iris Haber’s head and mail it to you. This is war, Mendel!”

“Iris,” Mendel said, calm as could be. “I’m breaking into the piggy bank. Do me a favor and jump.”

She finally let herself smile. “Yes, sir.”

Xi frowned, looked at her, and had to sprint after her as she darted for the balcony. She threw herself off the fortieth floor and went hurtling down to the ground. For a moment, she was in freefall, clothes and hair whipping in the wind as she fell through the city, the street getting ever closer. She could think of about three ways Mendel could get her. He sent the most pleasant one.

Silvy caught her, flying an Archjet through Neo Taipei in the neighborhood of Mach 1. Every pane of glass in the street erupted as Iris’ arm was nearly ripped from her body, but the only thing Xi’s men could do was shoot at them.

The two of them could shoot back.