#and now I gotta figure out how to retrofit some of these points back into a general meta without the quadrant framework of analysis

[dragonofeternal]

girlies hate me bc I still use homestuck quadrants as a framework to analyze character dynamics

(I'm just saying that the lack of a moirail is very much to Kanata's detriment ya know???)

[davidthetraveler]

Hey, for the October Prompt List: Maybe Moon?

One Small Step

Characters:  Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, Dr. Emile Picani, Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, Talyn

Pairings:  Logicality, Prinxiety

Trigger Warnings:  Homophobia Mention

Squick Warnings:  Giant/Tiny Content, Fantastic Racism

Word Count:  1923

Read it on AO3

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If you’d like, you can send me one of @hiddendreamer67‘s October Giant/Tiny prompts, and I’ll write a fic for it.  Or, if you’d prefer, you can also send me two sentences and I’ll continue them like they’re a fic.

***********************

With a muffled hiss, the hatch of the capsule opened.  For a moment, nothing happened.  Then a figure in a suit, bulky and white, began to awkwardly make its way out.  Slowly, it maneuvered its laden form through the opening and onto the ladder to begin its descent.

Carefully, it made its way down the ladder, pausing only twice in its otherwise slow yet deliberate movements.  Once, to remove the covering of the plaque set into the ladder, meant to be left behind to commemorate this moment.  And once more, just before finally stepping down onto the dusty surface.

“That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

The astronaut slowly lowered himself all the way down onto the surface, turning to begin exploring the surface of this distant sphere as the narration continued overhead.

“Though many have continued to debate this quote, both in its heard and scripted versions, the truth of its message is without question:  that this achievement, only made possible by the collaboration and cooperation of people of all walks of life, was a celebration of humanity at its greatest.  For with this single act, we proved that nothing could be beyond our reach, so long as we worked together for the betterment of all.

“And while it may have been the first, we truly hope that will not be our species’ last great first.”

Logan concluded his narration, closing the binder with the speech as he did so.  There was a pause, and then the classroom erupted in exuberant cheers.  As they continued to applaud, Patton came up between Logan and the desk, just as Virgil stepped out from behind the diorama to join Roman, who had since removed his helmet.  The four boys, two normal sized humans, and two tiny humanoids, bowed to their classmates as the teacher came forward, clapping his own hands in appreciation.

“Well done, boys,” Dr. Picani announced, continuing to applaud.  “A truly well planned and excellently designed presentation.  I know I still need to do a final scoring for your grade, but I don’t think any of us doubt that you will have earned a most excellent mark for this assignment.”

The four boys exchanged proud smiles, Patton going so far as to wrap Logan in a hug as Roman side armed Virgil and kissed his forehead, much to the smaller boy’s good-humored frustration.  Finally, they settled down enough to head back to their desks, Logan carrying the diorama and Patton following with their two tiny project partners held on his open palm.

“Now, considering how much time we have left in class, I believe we’ll stop there and pick up with the presentations tomorrow.  Feel free to talk amongst yourselves until the bell rings.”  With that, Dr. Picani returned to his desk to begin grading the written reports for that day’s batch of presentations, and the students all began to chat loudly as they packed up their bags for the final bell to release them to go home.

“You did so good on that, Lo-lo,” Patton squealed, giving his boyfriend another hug after setting Virgil and Roman down on the double desk the four of them shared.

Logan rolled his eyes at Patton’s embrace, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed how much he was actually enjoying it.  “Perhaps, but had you not helped me by providing some of the more...emotional phrasings, I do not feel my report would have had the same impact on our audience as it did.  And that’s not even mentioning the most exceptional work you did on the diorama.”

“Well, I had a little help on that from Virgil.  He really has quite the eye for detail.  I mean, just look at the amazing job he did with the space suit.”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to blush.  “It wasn’t anything special.  And it wouldn’t have mattered if we didn’t have the best actor in the school to play our astronaut.”

“What can I say?  I was inspired by your excellent design sense, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.”  Roman bowed toward Virgil with a flourish, causing the other boy to snort and shake his head.  But the coy smiles the two were exchanging betrayed the real love behind the banter.

“In any case,” Logan injected, “I would be truly surprised if we failed to receive at least an A on this project.  And now that it is complete, we can focus on other matters.”

“Like what we’re doing this weekend!” Patton exclaimed.  “We are still on to go see the new Spider-Man movie, right?”

“As long as we’re going to the theater on Main Street,” Roman pointed out, working himself out of the suit with a little help from Virgil.  “On our last date night, Virgil and I went to one on Beta Avenue, and their tiny section was an absolute nightmare.  Bad sound, horrible view, and the snacks were stale at best.”

“I told you we shouldn’t have gone to an older theater,” Virgil chided him.  “It’s obvious they had to retrofit that section in, and they only did the minimum needed to comply with the anti-discrimination laws.”

“Why didn’t you report the situation to the management?” Logan asked.

“We did.  The owner didn’t even bother to try sounding sincere when he apologized for the conditions.  Stupid bigoted baby boomer.”

The thought of the generation that had fully embraced the idea of the “Pet Tiny”, to the detriment of the entire tiny race, spurred the group into silence as they packed up their supplies.

Soon enough, the bell rang to dismiss them for the day.  Around them, their classmates made their way out, with the humans heading for the door and the tinies boarding the in-school tram to head to their special locker area.  But Roman and Virgil made no attempt to catch the tram.  Instead, they each clambered onto one of their deskmate’s hands.  And with that, the four of them headed out.

With the buzz of excitement at the end of another school day, even if it was still just Thursday, Patton and Logan had a hard time keeping their hands steady enough for their companions to ride smoothly.  But they managed to keep them secure as they waded through the crowds of students clogging the hallways.  And soon enough, they were out the front door and heading for the parking lot.

Just before they reached Logan’s car, they heard someone calling for them from behind.  The pair turned, and the four of them waved and called out to their friend Thomas as he rushed to catch up, his hands full with his own pair of tiny friends.

“Hey, did the presentation go well?” he panted, trying to catch his breath.

“Indeed,” Logan replied.  “I believe it went over quite well.”

“We were fantastic,” Roman added.  “Especially me.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Virgil quipped, smirking at Roman’s indignant reaction.

“I just wish you could have seen it,” Patton pouted.  “It’s too bad you couldn’t have had the same history class with us this year.”

“Yeah, but you know they only give AP Chemistry first period, which means if I’m going to be in Theatre, my only other option’s last period.”

“Which makes so much sense,” muttered the beanie-wearing tiny in Thomas’ right hand.

“They do have a point,” the other tiny with the multicolored hair in his other hand added on.

“Well, at least you three are still together for that class,” Roman conceded.  “Virgil and I are really missing you in first period.”

“Yeah, the other techies have nothing on you two,” Virgil commented, causing Joan and Talyn to blush at the compliment.

“Well, we’ve got to get going,” Thomas interjected.  “We’ve still got to finish our own presentation on the Million Tiny March.”

“You’re not finished?” Logan queried, eyebrows quirked in obvious exasperation.  Thomas shrugged in embarrassment as Joan cackled and Talyn frowned over at their datemate.

Logan rubbed his eyes in frustration, but before he could start lecturing them about proper time management, Thomas suddenly blurted out, “Well, gotta go, great to see you all, see you tomorrow!”  And quick as a flash, he and his partners escaped to his car and were gone.

“Relax, Lo-lo,” Patton cooed, rubbing Logan’s back to calm him down.  “You know they’ll get it done in time.  They always do.”

Logan sighed, but nodded in resignation at Patton’s words and turned to unlock his car.  Once inside, Logan and Patton placed Virgil and Roman down on the dashboard next to the tiny seats Logan had had installed for them.  And with the four securely buckled in, they set off for home.

As they passed through the various separated and integrated neighborhoods.  The four couldn’t help thinking about the implications of their project’s message, especially in regards to their own personal experiences with prejudice and bigotry.  Thomas’ mentioning of the March had reminded them of their struggles.  Logan and Patton’s relationship hadn’t exactly been seen as a very positive thing when they’d come out to their parents, though the two couples had eventually come around.  And there had certainly been a few bullies who tried to drum up homophobia around the two, though to very little success.

But that was nothing compared to Roman and Virgil’s own experiences.  The Equal Rights for Tinies movement had only barely succeeded in getting its Equal Rights Act passed before the two of them were born.  Virgil had almost been born in captivity in the testing lab with his mother, his father having been killed months earlier at the National Mall Riots.  Roman’s own parents had only been free because their owners had been swayed to support the movement, and they had been released into a tiny relocation program.

But even now, almost two decades after the passage of the act, there was still so much bigotry toward tinies.  So many older people still saw them as lesser beings, and even those who accepted them into society still treated them as second class citizens.  It was just not fair.

“Do you think they’ll ever really accept us as equals?”

Roman’s question caught them all off guard, especially Roman, who hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud at first.  There was an awkward silence as he and Virgil exchanged worried, tired looks, and Patton opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of something to say.  Finally, Logan spoke up.

“I think they will.”

The other three turned to him.  He wasn’t smiling, but his neutral expression seemed to radiate a determined confidence in what he was saying.

“I believe that they will accept you as equals.  Perhaps not the older generations, though there are many examples of those who have embraced the idea of Equality.  But I believe that we the younger generations have.  And even if they might be in power now, they are inexorably the past, and we are the future.  And as far as I am concerned, that future looks pretty bright.”

Patton beamed at his boyfriend, and reached over to hold his hand, which Logan reciprocated with a small smile.  Roman and Virgil smiled at him before turning to each other to share a hopeful kiss.

“Thanks for that, Logan,” Roman called back after breaking the kiss, still staring lovingly into Virgil’s eyes as the other stared back.

Logan nodded in reply as the cabin lapsed back into silence.  But this time, it wasn’t brooding or tense, but filled with a hope for the future that no amount of bigotry could extinguish.

[diredigression]

New adventure from Courier Carrot!

Carrot gets to push some big red buttons at Helios One.

—–

That Lucky Old Sun

Carrot sprinted down the dark hallway. “RUN!”

Behind her, a small army of protectrons teetered towards them. Bright red laser flashes from the bots shot past the three, perilously close to contact. Seconds earlier, Carrot had spotted the laser tripwire in the doorway, but not soon enough to keep herself from charging through it as she fled a Mister Gutsy. Luckily, Boone had taken that one down before the protectrons activated. As for them—

An ear-shattering explosion threw Carrot and Boone to the ground and ED-E into a wall as a dome of crackling blue lightning enveloped the bots.  The plasma grenade, one of Carrot’s new favorite toys, blew tangles of metal from them. The remaining parts sparked, smoked, and collapsed in the hallway.

Carrot and Boone scrambled to their feet and ED-E, beeping angrily, launched himself back into the air. Otherwise, there was silence. They clung to the wall, listening for anything besides the ringing of their ears and some residual static from ED-E, until they were reassured that the threat was past.

“Damn,” giggled Carrot. “That was cool.”

Boone glared at her. “Let’s just get moving and hope there’s no more up ahead.”

Of course, getting moving took some time, as Carrot was unwilling to leave any loot behind. She quickly emptied the toolboxes and bins in the area before moving on to the mangled bots. She didn’t know hide from hair on electronic things, but she recognized a few of the easier-to-remove bits as common stock in scrap sellers’ bins. No reason to leave free caps behind—especially now that she had Boone to lug it.

“Gonna be hard covering you when I can’t move my legs,” he grumbled as Carrot loaded him up with scrap. ED-E twittered in an amused sort of way, until she started piling the remainder onto him.

Now, ED-E — his acquisition had been utterly unexpected. Even Boone, whose repair abilities outstripped hers, had taken one look at the pitiful pile of metal on the Mojave Express desk and offered to take it to the Gibson scrap yard himself (as long as he got to keep the caps). But as Carrot had emptied her bag of loot in front of Johnson Nash for trade, his eyes had slowly widened. “Youngster, I reckon you just brought me exactly what I need to fix that old bucket of bolts.” And with a startling amount of sprightliness for such a weathered man, he had swept up an armload of Carrot’s junk and set to work tinkering on the eyebot. His intensity had left Carrot and Boone in slightly stunned silence, just wanting to trade their loot and move on.

And now the eyebot was part of their little party, singing fierce beeping war cries and taking down protectrons with his laser gun.

Eventually Carrot finished scavenging and they continued on through the dark hallways. The remainder of the journey was uneventful, and finally they discovered their goal: the elevator to the Helios One Observation Level. Here, as that idiot wearing sunglasses in the basement had informed them, they would be able to…do something to get the shiny mirrors outside flowing juice to the region. They’d done something about “resetting mainframe connection” outside the plant, and Fantastic said they needed to “do the rest” up here. Past all the killer robots.

Carrot was a huge fan of Fantastic, really. Dude knew his way around the NCR grunts and was totally shameless about it. Gotta respect that.

But now they were up here, slightly singed from the killer robots, and the computer was complaining about not getting enough juice even though it was in the damned juice plant, and he’d given them no actual info to go on. Oh, and a cable was chewed to bits and emitting an acrid smoke that gave Carrot a headache.

She began organizing the loot. It was a good way to pass the time while she waited for either her brain or the universe to give her something useful.

Or Boone, apparently. “I think I found something,” he called from upstairs. “Dormant Mister Handy. Maybe it’s only for maintenance. Might be able to fix the system.”

Carrot trotted up to where he waited.  The Mister Handy floated over a charging pad lit in pale blue. The flamer and buzzsaw on its curled legs (she was far too familiar with those) were still in place, but other tools seemed to have been retrofitted wherever there was space. It wasn’t often she got to see an undamaged Handy this close without the distraction of being flambéed. She couldn’t resist the impulse to reach out to touch it.

The robot jumped to life.

Carrot screamed and leapt backwards. Boone jerked, tried to grab his rifle off his shoulders, and tripped over a chair.

The Handy swept past them as if they didn’t exist.

Bewildered, they stared after it as it descended the stairs. ED-E’s startled beeping was heard as the Handy approached, soon changing to a slower, more confused sound. Carrot and Boone hurried to the railing, where they watched the Handy descend upon the smoking cable. After a few minutes of deft movements and a remarkable amount of sparking, the Handy collapsed next to the cable, once again dormant. The smoking from the cable was gone, and it looked as though the output on the monitor screen had changed.

“What…the hell,” said Carrot.

Boone looked at her, back to the bot, and then back to her. With his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, only a twitch in his frown indicated increased scrutiny. He pointed at her hand. “What are you holding?”

Carrot looked at her hand in surprise. Apparently she was still holding one of the loot items she’d been sorting, a small square computer drive. A holodisk. “An employee ID card, looks like. Guess waving it close started up the Handy?” Her confusion morphed into a cocky grin. “Glad I grabbed everything now, huh?”

Boone snorted and headed back downstairs. “Lucky us.”

Finally into the computer, Carrot eyed the terminal options. “Configure Power Grid”: that was probably to shift the juice around the region. More interesting was the one at the bottom, with the name ARCHIMEDES prominent. That was exciting. Options all in caps felt like the boring-green-terminal version of a big red button. She was disappointed to find that it only contained a memo, though, so she continued to the power grid option.

There it was again. ARCHIMEDES II. She vaguely caught notice of the other options around it, names of Mojave towns, but they were far less fascinating. Hadn’t that other guy, the sciency one working with Fantastic, mentioned something about it? ARCHIMEDES was calling to her. She selected it and the terminal returned to the original menu, which now included a new option:

Arm ARCHIMEDES Plant Defense System

What the hell. She was always a sucker for big red buttons. Besides, an important place like this could always use some extra defense measures, right?

Suddenly a siren blared. ED-E twittered nervously. For some reason, Boone eyed her and started murmuring, “Carrot, what did you—”

She cut him off. “No time, Boone, don’cha hear that? We gotta get moving before whatever’s happening happens. Looks like the last switch is up top.” She charged up the stairs and out of the building into the noon sun.

Out on the tower observation deck, far above the broad field of shinies, the control console was easily identified by the massive switch. Carrot wriggled in delight—she got to press all the big red buttons today. She leaned over the railing, spending a moment to take in the view of the Mojave and the array of mirrors below. Then she pulled the switch.

 ——

Bubbling over with excitement, Carrot charged into the room where Fantastic was working. She couldn’t wait to tell him the incredible thing she’d just seen. How lucky it was that she had been there out on the observation deck, gazing across the Mojave, right as that column of heavenly light shone from the sky! Even Boone had showed some emotion, although it seemed more angry than amazed? Her good mood couldn’t be swayed by his grumpiness right now, though.

But Fantastic’s reaction was equally disappointing. “What the fuck, man?” he shouted. “Are you loco? You just killed my paycheck!”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I moved the shinies and sent out the juice, just like you asked!” But Fantastic just huffed and turned away.

The sciency guy was also unimpressed, but Carrot had expected that. He wasn’t as cool as Fantastic. Still didn’t know what or why he was blaming on her. Maybe he was just jealous that she’d figured out how to fix the shiny plant without him.

Carrot left the plant, Boone stalking darkly behind her and ED-E over his shoulder. All the NCR guards had vanished. Maybe they’d left to check out the light show too. She couldn’t blame them. But as for her, she’d had enough excitement for the day. Off she jogged towards her Novac bed and a well-deserved rest.

[vanquisher2099]

Part Thirteen: A Detective Uncovers a Clue

It was highly unusual, in an age of self-driving vehicles, for any sort of accident to be caused by operator error. By law, all vehicles had to be equipped with an autopilot system, so even antique models had been retrofitted. This all added up to the idea of a truck accidentally finding its way across a high speed rail line by mistake as an unlikely occurrence, although from what John could tell that seemed to be the story that the authorities were sticking to. It was not as though the idea of an intentional train blockage was so surprising – there were still various terrorist groups operating in the interior whose weapon of choice was abandoned vehicles, occasionally packed with explosives – but for whatever reason they seemed unwilling to countenance the idea in this case. That alone was enough to pique John’s interest, even without it seeming likely that the young woman he was meant to find was likely to have been on the train.

That the young woman was supposed to be dead was, John suspected, just another twist in a case which had already been, he thought, suitably twisty. He’d left the…commune, he supposed it was, with a promise to check in with Gabriella and her crew in a couple of days with an update. So it was not particularly shocking when, after making some polite inquiries at the local police station, he found himself being shooed away and then, moments later, approached quietly by one of the detectives who remembered his name and invited to grab a cup of coffee in a suitably out-of-the-way diner.

The detective introduced herself as Helen Solstice. “Gotta say I’m a bit of a fan,” she said with a grin, “it’s not every day you run into someone who got drummed out of the CPD for trying to get to the bottom of such a well-publicized attack.”

John shrugged, not bothering to correct that the ‘terrorist attack’ hadn’t been the thing that got him canned. “Honestly, once the big conspiracy came to light, the higher-ups were just happy that everyone seemed to forget about it. My unwillingness to let it drop got me the boot.”

“And you still have no idea who did it?”

“Not really – but we did have a person of interest seen leaving the building. Problem was, any attempts at identification came up empty, and the department didn’t want to devote further resources into tracking them down.” This was punctuated by a dry chuckle and an “obviously.”

Helen nodded understandingly. “So now you’re out here causing trouble in a different state, huh?”

“It’s the job – I’m supposed to find someone who was on that train.” John explained. “Or at least, I’m pretty sure she was on the train. There’s no way to be sure without a lot of access to stuff I don’t have – you know, like surveillance footage.”

“How do you know she was on the train?”

“Well, I was asking around downtown, and a few people claimed they saw her entering the train station just before the train left. Stands to reason she might’ve been on it.”

“You don’t think that’s grasping at straws?”

“From the sound of things, she was running from something – a few of the folks said she looked like she’d been in a fight.” John said with another shrug. “If I’m on the run, I get on something that gets me out of town fast.”

“So she headed to the train station and caught the first train out.” Helen said with a nod. “That tracks. Kind of doesn’t give you much to go on even if there wasn’t a crash though, does it? Lots of stops on that particular line.”

“Yeah, but I doubt she would get on and then get off. You don’t get on the inter-city train to get off a couple stops later.”

“Unless that’s all that happened to be available at the time.” Helen pointed out.  “Or if you thought you were being followed and wanted to shake a tail.”

John tried not to look too obviously depressed. “So you see where security footage from the train would be useful for me, then.”

“Except you seem to be convinced she was on the train when it crashed.” Helen said, “meaning you have a perfectly good idea of where to start looking.”

“A few scattered news reports put her at the scene, yeah,” John said, “but if she’s in some kind of a jam, I’d like to know if it followed her on the train. And off the train, afterwards.”

“Fair enough.” Helen replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “Normally I’d be all too happy to help you out. This crash though…”

John sighed. “Let me guess. It wasn’t accidental.”

Helen winced visibly. “Please tell me it’s not that immediately obvious.”

John shrugged. “Probably not to most, but you have to admit the likelihood of anything like that being accidental is pretty slim – and it doesn’t help that the department was so quick to classify it as such. I mean you put a statement out like two hours after it happened!”

“See, I was telling my partner at the station it was too goddamned quick on the draw, but obviously we aren’t the ones managing that sort of thing.” Helen’s expression seemed to be caught between being pleased and annoyed to be proven right. She sighed. “Obviously someone had their mind made up beforehand. No idea why, but you can understand the reluctance to have any kind of video evidence floating around that could disprove our theory.”

“You get a lot of terrorist incidents this far west? I thought California generally managed to stay out of that stuff.” John knew the answer, of course, which was ‘California got more than their fair share,’ but figured in the moment that he needed to play up the Midwestern rube a little more.

Helen’s reaction seemed to prove him right. “Yeah, well, that’s what the official story is I guess. We do a lot of covering up and reclassifying out here. Nobody wants to have the FBI or, god forbid, the DHS start taking an interest in our affairs. Everyone seems to think that’s a one-way ticket to the shitshow that happened to you lot out in Chicago – no offense.”

“None taken.” John said, smiling wryly. “Although seeing as how the FBI’s presence ended up uncovering that whole conspiracy,” entirely untrue, but the official line, “I personally tend to see it as something of a positive.”

“Oh please, spare me the party line,” Helen rolled her eyes. “I heard it was some vigilante that ended up blowing the lid off that whole mess. The FBI was probably too busy throwing its weight around at your station to do any real investigating.”

John laughed. “Yeah, well, can’t blame me for trying to save a little face. Nobody wants to admit that someone outside the force ended up being the one to actually sort things out. Professional pride, you understand.”

“Which is precisely why,” Helen said, leaning forward, “If I were to give you some kind of access to the footage, you’d have to promise me that you’ll leave any speculation alone – you can confirm your girl’s presence or absence, and see if there was a disturbance on the train or whatever, but if we suddenly get a bunch of stories popping up on the Net about how this was actually a terror attack or some shit, it’s your ass. You got me?”

“Hey,” John said, raising his hands defensively, “I’m just trying to make ends meet. I got no interest in making anyone look bad. I’ve put too much time into this investigation to be able to go back to my client and tell them ‘oh sorry, let me refund the last month of payments.’”

Helen seemed to be debating her next course of action. Eventually, she came to some sort of decision, nodded, and slid a small data drive across the table. “This doesn’t go into the cloud, understand? You don’t even put it in something connected to the Net. Take a look, and meet me here tomorrow to give it back. That’s the best I can offer.”

John nodded, taking the drive and stowing it in a pocket. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, if I happen to need a favor down the road, maybe you’ll be able to help me out.” Helen said in a tone of voice that suggested she already had something in mind. She stood and nodded to him. “Good luck with your search.”

“Thanks,” John said with a self-deprecating smile, “I’m sure I’ll need it.” He stayed in the diner for a little longer after Helen left, half because he wanted to finish his coffee and half because there was always the chance that someone had followed Helen and would want to introduce themselves as well before he left. This time, it turned out that nobody had – or if they had, they weren’t interested in talking to him – so he waved the waitress over to pay his bill and left.

As he headed in the general direction of the hotel where he’d been staying, he was surprised to receive a call from Harold.

“John! Still wasting time looking for the dead girl’s parents?”

“Something like that.” John said, pleasantly. “You know how these things tend to get complicated.”

“No I don’t, because I’ve got the smarts to see this shit coming and not take the job in the first fuckin’ place.” There was an element of scolding in Harold’s voice, as there generally was whenever John’s propensity for taking on difficult cases was discussed. “You gotta get back here to Chicago, there’s a new job that my client wants to bring you in on.”

“Who’s the client?”

“Ceres Industries, if you can believe it. They’re paying me and Jackie Powers an enormous amount of money to work together to find out who sent them some threatening letter or other.”

“That a fact, huh? And they wanted a third on it too?” John whistled low in spite of himself. “They sound desperate.”

“Desperate and willing to pay way more than the job’s probably worth. That’s the important thing.”

“So why don’t you and Powers just split my share of the fee and call it good?”

“Because you’re better at this sort of crap than I am, and I don’t want Powers lording it over me later when she ends up being the one to track them down.” Harold said in a rare show of honesty. Harold and Jacqueline had never gotten along – there was some history between the two that Harold had never bothered to volunteer details on.

“Why don’t you ask your FBI boyfriend to help?” John said, only slightly teasing. “Karl’s always been pretty good at that kind of forensic work.”

“Normally I would, but I can’t risk him deciding that the FBI needs to get involved and blowing this whole deal. He’s got this whole sense of duty thing going, you know? It would be cute if it wasn’t such a pain in the ass. Besides, we don’t talk shop. One of our rules.”

“Oh please, you’re telling me he’s never helped you on a case before?”

“No,” Harold said a little defensively, “just that he’s a pain in the ass about it so I try to avoid doing it unless I’ve got no other option. And this time, I have another option, which is that you should drop this crap in LA and come help with this.”

“If I hadn’t just caught a big lead, I might actually consider it.” John said, trying to let him down easily. “Another week or two and I’ll have this all wrapped up and be on my way back to help, assuming you’re still in need of it.”

“Sure, sure.” John could hear Harold’s eyes rolling over the call. “Assuming I don’t have to deal with Jackie solving this in before you get back, I guess I’ll see you then. Good luck out there, kid.”

There was a click as the call disconnected, leaving John to finish up his walk to the hotel in relative silence. He was itching to look over the surveillance footage, curious as to whether or not Charlie had really been on the train – and whether or not she was in fact the person seen fleeing the scene of the crash.

When he did see the footage, he sent Harold a message saying that two weeks had maybe been a little overly optimistic.

Part Fourteen

Part Twelve

[day0one]

Trump, at CPAC, gives 2-hour speech in praise of himself

NATIONAL HARBOR, Md.— It was a difficult week for President Donald Trump, with former lawyer Michael Cohen calling the president a liar and racist in congressional testimony and a high-profile summit in Vietnam with North Korean leader Kim Jong Un ending early with no agreement. And so, on Saturday afternoon, Trump traveled to the Conservative Political Action Conference, held at a hotel and convention hall just south of Washington, where he basked in the warmth and adulation of a wholly uncritical crowd.

The president spoke for a little more than two hours, sometimes extemporaneously. It was the longest speech he has given as president.

Upon taking the stage, 45 minutes after his scheduled start time of 11:30 a.m., Trump hugged the American flag in what appeared to be a glad-to-be-home gesture. He launched into a rambling, raucous speech that veered from trade policies in the 1880s to the presidency of William McKinley to his friendship with developer Richard LeFrak — who, he said, insists on calling him “Mr. President” despite being invited to address him as “Donald” — to television recording device TiVo, which Trump called “one of the great inventions in history.”

In what likely is a preview of his upcoming reelection campaign, Trump made the case that he was well on his way to achieving his campaign promises, including turbo-charging the American economy and fixing the nation’s immigration system. And he would finish the work, he maintained, unless voters succumbed to the progressive policies now being pitched by Democrats, both young House members like Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and the Democratic candidates for president, who have, on the whole, endorsed an agenda considerably to the left of the last Democratic nominee, Hillary Clinton — or, as Trump called her during the speech, “Crooked Hillary.”

That agenda was doomed, Trump said, adding, in a reprise of an attack line he has used several times recently, “America will never be a socialist country.” It was met approvingly by the CPAC crowd, which remained enthusiastic until the very end of the speech, when people could be seen making their way toward the doors.

Amid frequent name-checks for conservative radio host Mark Levin and Rep. Mark Meadows, R-N.C, who was one of his most strident defenders at the House Oversight hearing that featured Cohen, launched attacks on the Green New Deal, Ocasio-Cortez’s plan to wean the American economy off fossil fuels. The plan would “completely destroy the American economy,” Trump said. “It would end air travel,” he added, wondering how people would reach destinations like Europe and Hawaii. And the former real estate developer lamented that “New York City would have to rip down buildings and rebuild them again,” an apparent reference to retrofitting for energy efficiency.

“I want them to embrace this plan,” Trump said of potential 2020 challengers, boasting about how easy it would be to run against. Some establishment Democrats fear exactly the same thing.

Trump gleefully went off script on a number of occasions. “I was in the White House, and I was lonely,” he said at one point. “And I said, ‘Let’s go to Iraq.’” He then told a lengthy story about Air Force One landing near Baghdad in the darkness and about meeting Air Force Brigadier Gen. J. Daniel Caine, whose nickname — “Raisin” Caine — the president found particularly amusing.

Lamenting that, despite spending “$7 trillion” on Middle East security, it still wasn’t safe for his airplane to land with its cabin lights on, Trump went on to boast that under his administration, the Islamic State was being systematically defeated. “It should be formally announced some time, probably next week, that we will have 100 percent of the caliphate,” Trump said.

Trump took the opportunity to criticize Gen. James Mattis, who left his post as secretary of defense last December because he disagreed with the president’s approach to Syria. “It wasn’t working too well,” he said of Mattis’s tenure, though it was under his leadership that the Islamic State was largely beaten back.

Mattis wasn’t the only current, or former, administration member to come in for criticism from the president. He mocked the Southern accent of former Attorney General Jeff Sessions, who infuriated Trump by recusing himself from the investigation into potential collusion between the Trump campaign and Russia. He also criticized, without naming him, Federal Reserve chairman Jerome Powell: “We have a gentleman who likes raising interest rates in the Fed,” a charge he has made several times in recent months.

There were plenty of attacks on the media, with Trump singling out Washington Post reporter Dave Weigel, who in late 2017 had to apologize for a tweet that misrepresented the size of a crowd at a campaign rally. The president also gave an extended reprise of the controversy over the size of the crowd at his Inauguration more than two years ago, including the fact that the people who did turn out to see him did so in spite of the fact that it was raining, and the women in the crowd had to walk long distances “in high heels.”

On the whole, the speech was a deft review of the issues that animate the base of the Republican Party. At one point, he brought on stage Hayden Williams, a conservative activist who had recently been assaulted on the campus of the University of California at Berkeley, a favorite target of the right. Trump said he hoped that Williams would grow rich from lawsuits he is expected to file. Trump also said that he would soon be signing an executive order regarding the protection of free speech on college campuses.

Harsh rhetoric on immigration was in order. Trump was unapologetic about having declared a state of emergency in order to seek greater funding for his proposed border barrier. He described the people crossing into the United States from Mexico as “murderers, killers, drug dealers, human traffickers.” He cited a figure about crimes committed by undocumented immigrants from the Federation for American Immigration Reform, which is classified as a hate group by the Southern Poverty Law Center, a not-for-profit group that studies extremism.

The president also stocked fears of gun control, asserting that the Second Amendment was “under siege.” But, he assured the audience, “I’ll protect you. I promise.”

And he hit on a theme that has been popular during the five-day gathering of conservatives, denouncing expanded abortion rights measures in New York and Virginia. “They will execute the baby after birth,” Trump said of the Virginia measure.

The two-hour mark passed, and Trump was still talking, now explaining what went wrong at his summit in Hanoi. “I had to walk because sometimes you gotta walk,” he said. He also took pains to explain his widely criticized remarks about the death of Otto Warmbier — “our beautiful, beautiful Otto” — the Ohio college student who was arrested in North Korea, fell into a coma while imprisoned and died soon after he was returned to the U.S. Before leaving Vietnam, Trump said Kim had assured him he hadn’t been involved in whatever befell Warmbier, “and I take him at his word,” a remark that outraged, among others, Warmbier’s parents. At CPAC, the president appealed for sympathy for his dilemma, having to praise Kim as a friend and good-faith negotiator without alienating people who were outraged by Warmbier’s death. “I’m in such a horrible position,” he said.

It was around this time that members of the audience began to walk toward the doors of the ballroom. Some lingered there, while others left. “Not one person has left,” Trump announced, “and I’ve been up here for a long time.” Only half of that statement was true.