A Show of Force

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Akira acquiesced to a conversation. Short — off the record at whatever points she said so. Those were her conditions. Public place. Lots of people. Those were mine.

In how it went down, I feel I’ve learned more about Akira than I wanted.

When I arrived at the public place, she was waiting for me. With a group of persuasive individuals. I was given an ultimatum, travel to the actual interview location or walk away empty handed. I weighed the risk and stepped into a blacked out transport van.

I was hoping to talk to Akira on the way but she was not interested in having anything to do with me. Her head concealed almost entirely behind a visor, she would occasionally offer short instructions to her assistants. They only ever spoke in Japanese, leaving me more or less entirely in the dark for the duration of the ride.

I suspect the van was likely equipped with similar equipment to NL-PRIME — some kind of ultra-high XM environment — I am not a powerful sensitive on the scale of someone like Hank Johnson or Misty Hannah — but I could feel the XM around me. It was palpable.

We arrived at a facility that appeared utterly nondescript from the outside. Barely more than a warehouse. I can’t speak to the location except that it was probably about an hour and a half from Shibuya by road.

Inside, it was basically a giant intelligence center. And I’ve seen facilities like this before, but this one was special. Densely packed with people and equipment — many of them wearing visors like what Akira had used to ignore me on our road trip. There were stations tracking each November Lima vehicle in real time. A series of monitors tuned entirely to the EXOGENOUS PRECURSOR shards. Small arrays dedicated to key individuals — three of which were turned off entirely. I’ll let you guess the labels on those stations. There was even a monitor for Lorazon and a fairly thick paper file in front of it.

We walked into an office. Akira sat down. She looked impatient. I asked her a few questions. You know what I was after. What was her role, if any, in what had gone down in Washington. “An interested observer.” What was the current status of the November Lima project. “Improving. A program with incredible potential.” What does she know about the Exogenous Precursors. “They were aligned upon entry and made manifest by November Lima. Their journey and their guides will define them.” Was she responsible in any way for the deaths of Calvin, Phillips and Owen. “Tragic losses. But now is the time for rebuilding. I will continue to serve IQTech’s vision.” Does that mean you’re in charge of IQTech now? “I am happy to serve IQTech as needed.”

Then, she put her visor back on. An assistant opened a door and beckoned — firmly but politely. The conversation was over.4q2qluuaides9rrj6e

In whole, the experience was surreal, and I get the sense — made so completely by design.

It was a show of force — a vulgar display of power. She wanted me to feel the heightened XM environment in her transport vehicle — see the massive intelligence operation she has at her fingertips. The ‘interview’ itself was fluff — the equivalent of an ambivalent shrug. The rest of it all was pure theater.

I feel that I now understand this powerful individual better. She shows, she doesn’t tell. She assumes a position of control and power. And she is impatient. And perhaps the combination of those factors makes her extremely dangerous.%!#!$!)^!&!$!!&)#(@@%@$

I am certain she wanted me to understand that, and use my own platform to broadcast that image of her.

Well. I’m writing this piece — so I’m guessing once again, she got exactly what she wanted…

-PAC


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