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Long moments pass as the roar of the machinery grows louder ahead of them.
“Dude, you are working awful hard at your escapist fantasy here,” Phyr says at last.
“Well, yeah. Haven’t I always?”
“Look, I get playing hard. I like it, too! But-”
“-we like it for different reasons,” Edric finishes with a nod. “You like to cut loose. To have your power freed. To not have to worry about consequences. I can’t afford that indulgence: when I cut loose, people get hurt. And I don’t want to be that kind of person.”
Phyr thinks hard to remember Pannych’s words - Pretend to be anyone else besides me? - and then asks, “So why do you want to escape, then? What’s the fantasy?”
Edric takes a deep breath and a long look around before answering. “I want to hold the world accountable for the promises it made to me - to us - to all of us - when we were kids. I feel like - like if I can do that, here, then I’ll be able to move on to whatever when I’m back outside.”
“So you want revenge,” Phyr asks, confused in more ways than one.
“No,” Edric says, looking down. “I want to force the world to follow through on what it promised. To let us be who we want to be. To reward us fairly for our efforts, and to punish those who do evil, instead of granting them more power.”
Villain has a point, Phyr thinks. “So how’re you gonna do that, exactly?”
“That’s why I studied economics,” he answers, lifting his gaze as they walk on. “It’s not ‘how to get rich,’ it’s ‘how people make decisions.’ Getting rich was just something I had to do along the way - like my dad said, ‘There ain’t much to making money, if all you want is to make money.’ And if you know how and why people make their choices, then you can steer those choices by changing the environment. The advertising, the money, the power - it’s all a means to an end. And when I win,” he glances at Phyr, “When we win, together, we’ll have the power to make those changes. People will see that being good pays off, because we’ll make it pay off.”
“Yeah,” Phyr says, “That’s a lot different than my power fantasy, I guess.”
“Not so much,” Edric says with a shrug. “I mean, power is still a means to an end for you, too.” Phyr looks at him quizzically. “It’s so you can’t be pushed around. Having all the skills and levels doesn’t matter, if there’s nobody to fight against. You take all those skills and levels, and turn them on those who would push you around, grind you down, freeze you out.” Edric looks off into the semi-dark for a second before continuing. “That’s why you like action-platformers: everything that moves is either a bad guy, or a way forward; everything you do either kills bad guys, or moves you forward. You overcome challenges - you grow - to free yourself from obstacles.” Phyr nods with understanding as Edric continues, “I want those same things, but I don’t see a world filled with bad guys and obstacles. I see a world I can reshape.”
“But you just said you’re still after power, though,” Phyr says. Something is sticking in his craw. “Isn’t that basically the same thing as Mephistopheles?”
“Yes and no. There are similarities in the dynamics. But Mephistopheles works in power as might; I work in power as leverage. He studies the environment to take advantage of it and not be surprised by it, but he still uses raw might to force his will on the enemy within that environment. I study the environment to change it, to make it do work for me, and possibly redefine who’s an enemy and who’s an ally.”
“I guess I don’t see it coming down to anything but might, if he rolls up with his army and forces the issue.”
“That’s how it would go, if I let it,” Edric says with a chuckle. “But every army marches on its belly. He’s pushing people around, because then he can take what he wants. But with enough pushing, soon there won’t be any more to take, no matter how mighty he is. And if he fights too hard against Ceena, then he’ll be too weak to take on another enemy - his hand will be played, and I’ll be left holding all the cards.”
“But won’t that leave the world kinda fucked over, everywhere they fight?”
“Now you understand why I’m in such a hurry,” Edric says. “Mephistopheles is going for the military win, Ceena’s going for the culture win, I’m going for the economic win.”
“So what’s your real endgame, then? Thorn wanted to just chuck the whole thing; Pannych was trying to get everyone under control; Mephistopheles and Ceena both seem to want to rule with an iron fist, but in different ways - what’s your angle, after this is all over and you’ve built your perfect meritocracy?”
Edric sniffs and shrugs, then says, “I haven’t seen a point in thinking that far ahead yet. Kinda focused on the here and now. I figure the future will have to take care of itself somehow - maybe you and I can figure it out together, after the dust settles?” He looks to Phyr, vulnerability and invitation on his face.
“I think I can work with that,” Phyr says. Alice’s words echo in his head: Every good and kind thing you do, to a person or the world, helps strengthen her psyche and set her to rights.
They reach the elevator again, and as the door shuts, Phyr turns to face Edric straight-on. “OK, there’s something I have to tell you.” Edric cocks an eyebrow. “Alice is dead-set on the idea that you don’t want to create a utopia - she thinks you’re building an evil empire. But I think she’s trying to restore Rayla and Aqu to power. Vector’s a bit of a wild card: he’s a good guy, but I think he drank her Kool-Aid©, and I don’t know if I can talk him out of it.” He takes a breath he did not realize he had been holding.
Edric looks at him levelly, and asks with suspicious calm, “If that’s true… then why are you telling me this? Or... why were you running with them in the first place?”
“We came here to undermine your empire, but now I’m not so sure that’s the right thing to do. With Pannych and Thorn out of the picture, and all the others still at large, I think you have the best way forward. I’m on board, but they’re gonna get in the way.”
Edric strokes his chin as he mulls this over for a moment. “Let’s say I believe you. What do you want me to do about it? Lock them up in the dungeon?”
“Won’t work,” Phyr says, shaking his head. “Vector can rearrange his attributes, so he could punch his way out of anything if he put his mind to it. And Alice has the Open spell, she’s hard to pin down.”
Edric chuckles and says, “I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” clapping his hand on Phyr’s shoulder. Then he reaches into his vest and says, “You get all that?”
“Loud and clear, Boss,” a voice says from the speaking stone. “Supermax?”
“I think so,” Edric says with an air of finality. “Try to keep it quiet, we don’t want a fight if we don’t need one. Hell, we may be able to turn ‘em around, if we’re not too heavy-handed about it.”
“Ten-four, Boss,” the voice says.
They return to the surface and refresh their drinks from Edric’s office liquor cabinet. Phyr offers his technomancer skills to help finish Phase Two of Edric’s plan - creating a sufficiently efficient control mechanism to automate the electro-mana water wheels - and move into the globe-spanning Phase Three. Edric talks to Nori on his speaking stone to bang out a schedule for a week, allowing Phyr to learn the ropes of the operation before he takes a more active role. Right as they finish, a familiar voice comes over the speaking stone.
“Hey, Boss?”
“Go ahead,” Edric says.
“We got that issue sorted out, nice and quiet like you said. One wrinkle - they demanded to speak with that DJ guy. We told ‘em yes to keep things moving; how you wanna play this?”
Edric looks to Phyr, who shrugs and says under his breath, “I mean, I have no problem talking to them. But I don’t know what good that’ll do.”
“You mean besides pacifying the highly volatile prisoners you just betrayed,” Edric asks.
“Yeah, good point,” Phyr says. “Sure.”
Edric and Phyr return to the glass elevator, but this time they get off at the bottom of the prison area. An enclosed archway pulses with green energy, shot through with a golden tinge, leading straight into the base of the panopticon. Everyone inside nods wordlessly to Edric as the pair pass through. They cross a bridge and head straight down one of several identical hallways separating blocks of steel-barred cells. Phyr sees a few Obvious Tough Types; a couple Wizened And Wicked Types; and one very nervous-looking middle-aged man with short brown hair and drawn features, carving what looks to be a chess set out of black and white stones with a tool that’s been worn down almost to a nub.
Past a heavily fortified security checkpoint, they traverse an empty hall before entering a large boxy room the size of a high school gymnasium. A thick red line divides the room into a front half - with a pile of seriously beweaponed guards and what Phyr judges to be two quadrupedal tanks - and a rear half with surprisingly decent-looking amenities, where Vector lays on a comfy-looking couch while Alice paces fretfully.
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