Free Time Siege by Wesley Chu Page B

folded her arms. “James, I’m speaking to you as the High Scion right now. Call it a day and get some rest. You’ll have better luck tomorrow.”
    â€œYes, Grace.”
    â€œCall me High Scion. I’m revoking your first-name privileges until you stop sniveling.”
    James sighed and went to bed.

 
    EIGHT
    R EINFORCEMENTS
    Kuo stood behind the windowpane and looked down at the masses milling on the Chicago streets just north of ChronoCom’s Earth Central campus. The dense crowds were immense, almost frightening for someone from Europa and used to the limited and comforting, controlled environments of the civilized colonies on the Outer Rims. She fixated on one of the large intersections, six lanes by six, and watched in bemusement as the logjam of pedestrians, vehicles, and beasts of burden waged a war of inches.
    The worst part of what she saw below was that there were millions of people in the city, and not one of them was relevant. These weren’t Valta’s demographics. Market research had calculated that only 6 percent of Earth’s consumers had anything more than a four-times-removed association with any of the megacorp’s bottom line. In other words, Kuo had very little business here on this disgusting planet, and she couldn’t wait to get off Earth as soon as possible.
    The past week, while she had been at Earth Central, Kuo, for some reason, had found herself gravitating to this office and staring at the chaotic activity outside, at the same time fascinated and horrified by the planet of her species’ origin. The director had the best view in the building. He had gotten so used to her coming and going that he didn’t even bother addressing her anymore.
    â€œDirector,” she remarked, still studying the traffic jam trying to untwine itself. “Why do you allow this to continue?”
    Young Hobson-Luna, the high director of ChronoCom on Earth, looked up from the book he was buried in. “Allow what to happen, Securitate?” He got up from his chair and hobbled next to her, his twisted leg dragging behind him, slightly off balance because of his amputated arm. He followed her gaze to the churning streets below. “Why do we allow traffic?”
    Kuo pointed down at the mess below and then up at the heavy skyway traffic of flying vehicles in similar lanes coming in and out of the city. She gestured at the gray and brown wind, visible to the naked eye, blowing past the window. “This planet is a mess and has been for six hundred years. Look at the waste. Unforgivable. Yet, you let it continue. If ChronoCom is truly interested in preserving resources for humanity’s survival, the first thing you should do is declare martial law on the planet, quarantine the savages, and allocate the remaining resources for optimal use.”
    â€œYou mean turn Earth into a supply depot for the megacorporations?” Young answered dryly. “Unbridled capitalism poses similar threats.”
    Kuo scoffed and walked to Young’s cabinet to help herself to his liquor. She poured two glasses of red wine and handed one over to him. She held it up and waited until he clinked glasses and took a sip. Even someone dosed with an antidote beforehand would have just a slight hesitation in drinking poison. It was human nature. Not that she distrusted the man. However, coming from the world of cutthroat corporatism, old habits died hard. In this case, the director passed.
    She raised her glass in a toast and sipped. “Humanity is at a precipice. Like it or not, the corporations are the only thing staving off extinction. It’s been proven again and again throughout history that governments are not up to the task.”
    â€œWhat would Valta do if they were in the agency’s place as the only authority of Earth?” asked Young.
    â€œNow is the time to act decisively, Director. You might consider those dirty masses outside people; I consider them the