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EpilogueX

I laugh. "Do your worst. I mean it."

"... What?" Not what she expected. Good. That gives me a few seconds. I pick her up. She shoots me - once - and then the plasma pistol ends up between our chests; she can't shoot me without killing herself. I hold her off the ground. She stares at me. "...what are you doing?"

"Therapeutic hold. Wriggle if that's your thing, I ain't budging. I'm going to wait until I see Kite behind your eyes, because you can't throw any mental hellscape at her that she hasn't already seen and beaten. God have mercy on what's left of your soul, because she won't. And then, I'm going to give her a hug."

More eyeflutter, more purple flecks coming from her face. Then she starts squirming, and I know that they're worried. I turn around, still holding her in my grip, and walk to a corner.

"Now we wait, Miss Trader. Your securistas can get up the stairs, maybe wound me, but they can't really get me without killing you. And if I know Kite, your psyche will get tired before my arms do."

Now she's struggling. I grin. "And now... we wait."

"Get off me! GET OFF ME!" I don't know if she's talking to me, or Kite. Both.

I hold tighter. To the Trader, it's an implacable grip. To Kite, I hope, through whatever psionic gauntlet she's going through, it's a hug from a comrade. "Sorry, that's not the safeword."

I can hear heavy steps up the staircase. Security will be here... but not too soon, from the cadence.

The Trader froths at the mouth, tries to punch my back to break free, in spastic movements. "WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE!"

"We're XCOM. Watchful. Trustworthy." I try to mean it.

The Trader seems to pass out, right out of a scene from The Exorcist. "Actually, we're a band of borderline crazy people with UFOs. Same as the guys you sided with, really. Except: we're better. At it. Than you."

Right up to my face, a pair of eyes opens, bleary. Good time for a Hollywood kiss, but we're not in that sort of relationship. I just hug her tigher for a moment, then let go.

I don't know if I can fight the securistas, depends on how many, and what weapons. Maybe they'll listen to me. Maybe they won't. Maybe they'll even take orders from Kite. Enemy unknown, what else is new?

We have a couple of minutes to set up. Kite starts unpacking the SHIV. I get the big gun from under the bed. I get the pager out and send Shen Riley's number, plus the "call for instructions" code.

My phone has been on since I sat on the bed earlier.

"Riley? When Shen calls you, tell him to flood the Soul Sphere chamber. With fire, acid, gamma rays, anything he wants. It won't harm it any, but they'll sweat. Next, take this recording and send the mp3 to Jonny, he'll know what to do with it... Coming home after that."

I let myself go horizontal on the bed. Sleep is required. Kite is talking to some securistas.

I get up. I must've only slept for an hour or so. Went horizontal with morning, still morning. Mini splat. Bed. Unknown ceiling, white. Hotel room. Why not base? Knock on helmet.

"Come on. You're not done yet. We gotta make the broadcast."

Wait, what?

"The victory celebration. It's here in Toronto."

We walk past the concierge. He takes one look at me and hides behind the desk. We get to the street. As soon as the traffic lights turn red, Kite starts pointing at drivers. "No, no, too scared, no, would hate it, too insecure, okay, this guy." We stop traffic - hey, I've done that without armor - and walk up to a guy in a yellow Mitsubishi pickup, electrical contractor livery. Kite explains who she is, who I am, simply. He believes us.

It's amazing how far into a pedestrian-only zone, like a concert, you can get by car if you look like you're one of the wiring guys.

I wonder where they hid the cargo UFO -- oh, wait, they actually landed it on top of the stage. The podium is yuge. Most of our students are there; some technical personnel as well. Nobody I can say I really know... wait, that's Jonny in the audience.

Some Canadian politician is giving the introduction. Security is heavy - our guys are all disarmed.

A tall, remarkably fetching human being in what I swear is my old carapace armor walks to the podium. Kite goes off to talk to Jonny. Oh god, he has a slideshow. The Towers of Light picture appears behind him as he begins to speak. Then the picture flickers, and comes off.

"Er, as I was saying, on this 14th anniversary of a great tragedy for the western world..."

I walk on stage. The securistas look at me. Kite glares at them. I try to move confidently. I've only done this once before. I walk up to my better-looking would-be replacement and calmly slam the microphone down, then start shouting.

My friends are in the crowd. Kip is gesticulating at Riley and Stephen.

"HUMANITY!

Today is the 14th anniversary of a great tragedy for the western world!

In the year that followed, that tragedy was used to justify pointless war! thousands of deaths! and a lost decade for human progress!

But that was then and this is now!

Today we scream to the stars!"

I have to pause every breath. A lot of people can't hear me. Occupy-style, the first rows have picked up what I'm saying. Someone said something about unauthorized personnel over the PA before someone kicked the switchboard, but that's out of the window.

"Today we scream to the stars!

That we are free from the invaders!

That we are free from fear!

That we are free from those who would use us!

And that if anyone wants us!

To think with their head and not ours!

To obey instead of decide!

Whoever it is, alien or human!

We're going to beat the crap out of every single one!"

The politician standing next to my body double looks uncomfortable. People are starting to cheer.

"Now here's a proposal!

Just because I'm still on stage!

Boo me off if you want!

But first! How's this!

Today we celebrate!

Tomorrow we party!

Sunday we sleep it off!

And Monday! We make! We hack! We fix it! All better!

The whole damn world!

Ideas welcome!

We got a whiteboard! Come on!"

I point at the projector screen, which has gone white.

The politician looks at me. "Yeah. I'm so effin' sick of politics, dude. That was a heck of a speech, though! Say, do you have any... long term plans with all this?"

"Uh, hello. Who are you?"

People are starting to climb the stage.

"Rob Ford. I was Mayor of Toronto, you know."

"I was the Headmaster of XCOM. No long term plans, but my short-term plan is the same as yours."

"Wassat?"

"We both need to get a real job. I'mma go see if anyone is hiring."

I pat the guy's balding head, climb down the podium, and go find my friends in the crowd.

Now that I'm gone, my body double starts his canned speech, to half the cameras turned off and extremely loud boos; Riley takes us to a van that looks suspiciously like that of the A-Team, and drives us off.

Along the way, we trade stories - I have little to tell, but Kip tells us how they took down the High Priest, and Kite goes over what the Soul Sphere looked like from the inside. She's still somewhat in control of it, something which she's not comfortable with, but... well, sometimes the best person to put in charge is the person who doesn't want to be. She put the whole thing in standby for now - we'll try to sort it out later. Riley and Stephen tell me their adventures in dealing with alien raids, martial law, and just getting stuff done in a world threatened by the aliens. I just say that I feel dirty for killing actual people, but I find myself in a minority as far as those I shot counting as people. I hope my friends are right.

We get to what looks like a cross between a pub and a small, homemade convention hall. The person who's supposed to be me is on one of the TVs, explaining how Toronto is going to be rebuilt into an international spaceport city. People are openly mocking him. Behind the person speaking is a giant projector screen with what I swear is a scene from Robocop 2, but by now, people have taken over that part of the stage and spraypainting some sort of basic-income scheme on top of it instead. The securistas are busy scuffling with an impromptu safety workgroup, and the camera occasionally pans to them.

The people here are mostly friends of Riley's, although there's a few people I recognize from the US - I'm told that some people from Italy are coming as well. We walk in, and people stop what they're doing - mostly drinking, riffing on the TV, and playing board games - to applaud at us. When I get in, the applause strenghtens. Hey, there's an alien-invasion version of Cards Against Humanity out already?

The bartender says that he knows I don't really drink, so here's some rum-and-pear-juice with little rum, pretty much the only alcohol I can handle. I guess Riley told him. I thank him.

My double on TV is still addressing the crowd. By the look of it, Jonny is messing with the video feed using the X-ALT antennas, mostly to tell people what nonsense words to look for on search engines to get the real story in case they missed my spiel the first time around. And to have a [FAKE] label follow him on screen as he explains that the invaders, even in defeat, have much to teach us and we've conquered their advancements in both technology and social management fair and square, so we get to keep them.

Half the people here are either in cosplay, or something saucier - I just now noticed. A girl I recognize as a friend of Riley's is cosplaying as me, yellow armor, big dent on the helmmet. She looks better than I do in it, for sure.

Someone printed a What Goes Up set. I'm in a bit of a daze, Stephen directs me to that table. Riley gets some booze for everyone else, and joins us.

The insipid speech ends with the cameraman panning desperately trying to look for people applauding, somebody has to clean the TV screen of assorted stuff that had been thrown at it, and I twitch as people toast to us, the saviours of humanity. I raise a glass and drink to that, trying to not make it obvious that I doubled on the pear juice so there's very little rum in it.

The TV comes off as someone cleans the poutine off it, and we start setting up the board game, as people around us get comfortable again.

I look around at my friends, and finally manage to take at least the top part of the armor off, been fiddling with it the whole time on the van trip here.

In the background, the screen comes back on to a Winamp visualizer, and plays us something fitting.