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Chapter 14
“In today’s final story, Karthik Pai was laid to rest at a small, private ceremony,” I say, reading directly from the prompter. “According to information released by the family, only his wife and two children attended. They reportedly wished to keep the public from disrupting the proceedings, as the extent of Pai’s crimes has led to a swell of public outrage.”
Does anyone really think people would have shown up at a funeral uninvited? Did Karthik’s family think so? The idea is ludicrous. It’s not like the family had anything to do with the KPP exploit.
“The family said in a statement that they would appreciate a continued respect for them in their time of mourning.”
I can just see the eyes rolling, considering Karthik’s exploit helped violate millions of people’s privacy. Not a lot of sympathy has been expressed toward him in the days since his death. I hardly knew him back at the Enclave, but another dead Master is another step toward my freedom.
Sadly, today I also take a step back: it’s Friday, and after the show I’m headed to the island for the weekend, as usual. Then again, there’s a good chance I’ll see Colette. Maybe she’ll tell me what she knows.
Additionally, I can’t help feel a morbid curiosity about the Masters. Are they afraid right now? Are they waiting to see who will be picked off next? Has Anton killed any of them without the rest of us knowing it? I shouldn’t want to spend another second on that island, but I’d like to find out what’s become of their little paradise.
“Thank you, everyone, that’s our show,” I conclude. “Remember what I always say: never stop asking questions. You can learn something from everyone and everything from someone. We’ll see you next week!”
With the show over, the guards take me to the limo. Anton’s inside waiting.
“Surprised I’m here?” he asks as the guards cuff my wrists.
“Yes, sir.” Shouldn’t he be at the island?
“I was cleaning up Karthik’s mess,” he explains. “Establishing new routes into the Internet’s infrastructure and rebuilding the access we once had. It required some hands-on attention at Innovative AF.”
Anton didn’t ask me a question, so I keep my head down. When he continues, he’s already anticipated my thought.
“You’re wondering why I told you that. Mainly, because it doesn’t matter if you know — it’s the sort of thing you could have guessed on your own because it’s exactly what I needed to do. The second is that Anarchy, Inc wouldn’t expect me to show up in person. I could have handled my business remotely, from the Enclave. Coming to Manhattan was the less preferable choice. Therefore, it was less predictable. If I’m going to defeat Death, I must accept the possibility that for once I’ve been out-planned. Acting less predictably could throw off my foe and put him on the defensive. What do you think of that?”
I can’t help my dark smirk.
“I think you should stick a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger. Death would never predict that either.”
Anton laughs.
“See? I wouldn’t have imagined, after all you’ve been through, that you would still have the capacity for humor — or that you’d dare risk my ire. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake writing you off as a lost cause. I could have turned you into a very valuable asset, instead of a clown. Perhaps if I’d done a better job of turning you against Ingram, you would have served me willingly. I could have used the ear of someone with such a different mental… approach.”
“That was never going to happen,” I grumble.
“No, probably not. But I’m still fascinated by your recklessness. Like, when you went to the bank and created your insurance policy, you had to know it could get you killed. This was very clear to you. Yet you did it anyway. Explain to me the thought process behind that.”
It was nine months ago, but it may as well have been another lifetime. I could castigate myself, call myself an idiot for taking a foolish risk with my life, but it never mattered anyway. Anton was always planning to destroy Ingram — and me, by association.
“I knew I was going to mess up,” I say. “My need to rebel never went away. I thought I could keep the insurance policy secret, that no one would know. And it would sate my need to fight back in some small way.”
“So you knew you were going to act in a manner that could get you killed, but then rather than simply stopping yourself from doing it, you found an alternative… that might also get you killed.”
“I needed leverage,” I say. “A last card I could play in an emergency. And if you did kill me, the information would go to the authorities, so it would be worth it.”
Anton sighs.
“So you rationalized what you were doing until you could justify making a mistake.”
That’s one way of looking at it.
“My father’s alcoholism never made sense to me,” he continues. “I can drink and not have it affect me. I never feel compelled to drink. I don’t feel compelled to do anything. That’s not normal, is it?”
“I don’t know.”
I’m not exactly a psychologist.
