InsaneJournal

"When I go forwards, you go backwards and somewhere we will meet."
Who: Alistair Icenhour and Katherine Athena.
What: Katherine tells Alistair of her plans to create a Wild Cards team.
When: early May, 2096
Where: Katherine's office in Seattle, Washington
Status: Closed; complete

For once, the office of Senator Athena was silent. No pale blue shadows on the wall, no buzzing whine of computer. The only sound to be heard was the scratching of a pencil on a thin piece of linen paper. Katherine liked the feel of wood beneath her hand. It reminded her of childhood- warm grass and muddied knees and all of the things that she had run so swiftly away from and into adulthood without meaning to at all.


Her feet had managed to slip out of her shoes, toes wiggling against the hose that contained them as she swung them underneath the desk, lost in thought as she bit down on the pencil nub.

"Whereas in the opinion of the Government of the United States the coming of Xenovirus Takis-A to this country endangers the good order of certain localities within the territory thereof: Therefore..." She muttered as she stabbed at the single screen that floated in front of her suddenly, triggered by the bump of her knee against the desk. It closed. "What does it mean?" Her head bowed down again as her hand crumpled the paper, turning to a fist right before she tossed the now-balled letter at the waste can by the door

There were certain things Alistair always did. He always referred to Katherine as 'Senator' despite their long acquaintance unless badgered otherwise. He always had a bottle of water on his person, generally full. He always had purpose of direction, which he showcased now as he did another thing which he always did, which was ignore Katherine's administrative assistant and go straight for the door to her office.

He gave it a precursory knock and waited.

The knock was too familiar to be anyone other than Icenhour. Katherine straightened herself up, sliding her feet back into her shoes, and stood. Walking briskly to the door, she opened it with a slight incline of her head and a smile that was a touch more genuine than those she reserved for strangers, though still reserved.

"Alistair. What a pleasure." She said it as if she hadn't been expecting him.

"Is it, Senator?" he asked as he slid into the room, water bottle clutched up against his workpad. "Must be an inordinately arduous day."

He took his usual seat in front of her desk, setting his water on the desk and his work pad on his lap. He tapped an icon on the tablet and was rewarded by a three dimensional image of the screen appearing over the device. "Nice interview this morning with the Times," he said as he pulled up the recording of it. "But their cameras are crap. You look like you've been hitting the melanin too hard."

"Their cameras are crap but their audience is solidly in our voting bloc. I doubt their vision's good enough to notice. Ocular science has only progressed so far." She took her seat again, crossing her ankles neatly and folding her hands in her lap. "I got a letter from a constituent the other morning who claimed that she was one hundred and thirty four. Can you imagine living that long?"

Her eyes glanced at the photograph on her desk for a moment. It was the image that she distributed in Christmas vids--she standing with Bart as part of a happy couple. No one ever noticed that his hand was on her elbow to keep her at arms' length. They were both far too practiced at smiling for that.

Turning her head away from the frame, she looked at Alistair. She was feeling emotional, perhaps that was it. There was little explanation for the lunacy that she was contemplating. Something in her eyes changed, the color deepening before she picked up her reading glasses and slipped them on, pushing the frames up a little on the bridge of her nose.

"Well. That's enough chatter, I suppose. You didn't come in here to listen to me talk." Her hands rested on the top of the desk now, folding themselves again, the whitening of her knuckles the only thing to show her strain.

"Indeed," he replied and erased the image of her speaking on mute to the Times reporter. He folded his hands over his tablet and examined the senator with a practiced eye. Countless years in her service had made him fairly adept at picking up small cues.

"I presume you called because I have marching orders," he said calmly, while in truth he'd been dreading this conversation. Alistair was still at odds about pursuing what he presumed to be Katherine's train of political thought regarding Wild Cards. It was one thing, in his opinion, to campaign on more police training and enforcement in Joker areas since they also tended to go hand in hand with crime, but the proposal that was circling the waters in it's adolescent stage was worrisome on a number of levels. The sheer amount of government involvement should make any right-thinking conservative outraged, and did in Alistair's case, but that was always trumped by the socio-political football that were the Wild Cards.

There was also the matter of his daughter, but a practiced politician such as himself was adept at not bringing that up.

"Yes. Of a sort." Katherine stood again. Although her movements retained their grace, the fact that she had seated and unseated herself within moments gave them an awkward taint. She walked over to the door, pressing her palm against the sensor, then entered in the code to lock the doors down.

The woman did not sit again but instead, fixed her eyes on the tablet that he had just erased her image on.

"Alistair," she said, looking at his hands rather than his face. Those were the hands that had saved her career at points with words typed on that same tablet, the hands that brought her coffee when she was half-asleep working on a bill. But hands, unlike eyes, didn't condemn. "Surely you've read the Wild Cards Act."

Other lines went spinning through her mind. There exists a world Wild Card movement which, in its origins, its development, and its present practice, is a world-wide revolutionary movement whose purpose it is, by treachery, deceit, infiltration into other groups (governmental and otherwise), espionage, sabotage, terrorism, and any other means deemed necessary, to establish a Wild Card leadership presence in the countries throughout the world....

Yes. That movement existed, in its way. Or was about to.

Her chin lifted, turning away from him. "I wanted to ask your opinion on the vote."

It was completely uncharacteristic of her.

Katherine Athena had a history. It was a history of social crusade, of promoting family values and fiscal conservatism, of lowering taxes and increasing defense spending. Of above all else, protecting America from her enemies, both foreign and domestic. She had voted for war when others had abstained, had argued against ceasing sanctions against countries harboring terrorists... her allies and opponents alike knew how she would stand on the Wild Cards Act. It was a matter of domestic security. She'd vote yes.

And yet, the smile that she fought so hard for was slipping as she looked at Alistair, waiting. As if yes wasn't her answer at all.

Alistair's head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing slightly. She was looking at his hands rather than at him, so he made some motion of them: setting his tablet on her desk, retrieving his bottle of water, unscrewing the cap.

"The votes are there. I think it's being constructed in a fashion that allows for multiple, plausible interpretations of it's end so you shouldn't have much issue acquiring votes. Whether or not it stays that way through the amendment process is still a question, but as I understand it, that situations been remedied by a vast amount of state-specific pork that's already written in."

It was a perfectly logical answer as he looked up at Katherine. He had no qualms about looking her directly in the face as he took a sip.

"But. Surely I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Alistair watched her, wistful blue eyes deceptively soft, and waited for her to go for her left ear.

"No. It's no surprise that Huxley and Szabo-" she referred to Arizona and Louisiana senators, both her peers. "Sponsored the legislation. Their--our--constituency is going to love it."

Katherine's finger reached up, scratching at her left ear. "Those bastards on the east side of the state are probably just looking for an excuse to ship their jokers down to Portland, just like Tacoma tried in '34."

She was looking in his face finally, her eyes tracing the gentle lines of his cheek. It wasn't the first time she had thought to herself that of all the men she had known, Alistair's appearance was the most deceptive. There was steel beneath the blue of his eyes and it ran deeper than the bone.

What I'm about to ask, Katherine thought. Is whether you're willing to risk your entire career--your life--for ideals neither of us has claimed to possess. Her finger went back to her ear again, scratching unconsciously. The skin at the tip was starting to turn dangerously red.

Her tell. Alistair wasn't sure what to think about what she was saying versus how nervous (for her) she was acting. It certainly gave him pause enough that he didn't respond immediately.

"You're hesitant?" Alistair said finally. It was less an inquiry over her current state and more a declaration of surprise. This was something, if true, that needed to be discussed now. "Might be advantageous to be," he then added smoothly, placidly. "They won't get many coastal votes and infrastructure money wouldn't go to waste in the Metro areas."

"Can we, just this once, put the issue of votes aside?" She knew how uncharacteristic this appeared. "As a man, not as a politician, what do you think about the Act?"

Alistair set his bottle down on the desk and folded his hands in his lap. His eyes finally dropped down from Katherine's face as he pondered just what and how much he should say. This didn't require lightning reflexes so he took the time to really parse out what might and might not be acceptable.

"You know, every forty, fifty years or so, when the economy is good but not booming, Wall Street buys enough senators to try and get Glass-Steagall repealed, the idea being that banks have proven themselves enlightened enough and self-controlled enough to manage themselves. And every time, it's great for awhile while the sudden power is abused and then - depression. Banks are blamed. Glass-Steagall gets put back up. Things settle. History repeats."

He leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck, focusing for a moment on breathing and pulling a fresh intake of water out of the gel. His voice sounded less raspy. "People think it's time to try regulating Wild Cards. Again. It's not going to work. Again. And in their rush to appear McCarthy-like in their fervor, strangely no one seems to think that history may remember them for their actions with similar disdain."

Alistair looked up at her. "If the president is smart, he'll veto the bill. If the states are smart, they'll fight it on constitutional grounds. Treating a section of the population to be second class citizens is generally frowned upon by the Bill of Rights and the 4th and 14th Amendment, etcetera etcetera."

"The president isn't smart," she said, her voice wry. "He's human just like the rest of us and humans get scared." Katherine finally found her seat and settled into it again, her composure slowly settling over her skin and masking her doubt with a slight smile.

"It depends on who's involved. People don't like jokers," she continued flatly. Another scratch on her left ear pricked the skin and a drop of blood welled at its tip. She didn't appear to notice. "If this bill was appealing to common sense, then I'd say that you're right. But I'm hearing from my constituents that they don't like footing the costs of joker healthcare, for one."

She paused, to remind herself to avoid emotion. "There may be something to that. Wild cards often require medical attention above and beyond the non-infected. Counseling. Drugs. Certainly, the Sons of Adam would argue as much and have." The Sons of Adam were a religious group of sorts--they suggested that the wild card was a curse brought upon its carriers by sin. They had also made significant campaign contributions in Katherine's early career.

"That's besides the point." Her hand waved the air gracefully, as if she could wish the problem off. "Or perhaps it isn't. Civil rights can't be left to the public debate. They demand legislation and that, the wild cards haven't gotten. There has been no anti-discrimination laws, nothing more than a handful of court challenges and now this--we can't allow a handful of special interests to dictate policy and yet, there's a standing American political tradition behind doing so."

Katherine looked Alistair directly in the eye. "I have a tradition of doing so."

"A tradition that will continue to fund your election campaigns," Alistair pointed out. It was the truth, whether for good or ill. He shook his head and took the pocket square from his jacket and handed it to Katherine for her ear.

"Senator, if you are asking me to talk you out of this, I will. I don't believe this law has any chance of providing any measure of security - I see it only destabilizing it. Fund the constabulary to protect against unstable abilities, provide subsidiaries for start-up bio-tech working on gene suppressants, increase community education for the more insular towns - I have no qualms with any of that. That is treating a symptom. But the moment the government starts licensing humanity in some hackneyed attempt to go to the root of the problem - I draw the line. You can't do what this bill does and claim that it doesn't infringe on the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness of every Wild Card in the country unless you then say that they don't count," Alistair debated ardently, leaning forward in his chair towards Katherine, "and that is opening one hell of a Pandora's Box."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Senator: how many instances of civil liberties abuse is enough in the name of the greater good? How many pieces of straw until the camel's back breaks?"

"Do you want my honest opinion? I think that we've raised a nation of drones and that we continue to do so. Do people truly care about their civil liberties if they never make any attempt to exercise them?" She leaned in slightly, matching Alistair's movement. "I think that it becomes painfully easy to accept and accept and accept until they turn around and discover that everything has been lost."

"I don't think that this bill is a good thing but at the same time, I can't determine what good opposing it will do besides unseating me in the next election. I would be best off abstaining." Katherine said calmly. "I don't have a tradition of being publically liberal on wild card issues and there are reasons for that."

"Because you wouldn't have gotten elected - yes, I realize what the east is like," Alistair replied dismissively; he was there too, after all. "I think it's a very dangerous statement to say that people are best served by a good dose of oppression every now and then to remind them of what they are entitled to. Particularly since under that logic, the people who would best be served by such a lesson aren't the aim of this legislation."

Alistair shook his head as he went for his bottle of water again. "You can't abstain. What reason would you give Leadership for it? It's not a political one."

"No, you're right. It is dangerous. I just-" Get so angry. It was part of what kept her in politics, that anger at those who refused to act. Katherine stopped. It wasn't what she'd called Alistair here for. "That doesn't matter. You're right. I can't abstain and I can't vote against."

Her ankles crossed as she leaned back, scratching her ear. "Did you ever read anything about the Four Aces?"

"I have a history degree and a political science degree. They'd have been hard to avoid," he replied dryly.

"That's what we need to turn the Act," Katherine said. "Heroes."

Alistair raised an eyebrow and looked faintly slack-jawed. "I'm sorry, I'm not following your logic. Heroes? Against... what, communism?"

She laughed at that.

"No, I was thinking much more simply. The public hates wild cards because they have no role models. What they see are the criminals. If we want to overturn the act, we need to provide a face of good, as it were." The woman smiled. "It's insane. I do realize that. But..." She leaned back. "When I hear Huxley talk... I don't feel as if we're in a sane society any longer."

He rose up and went to stand behind the chair he'd been in. It was difficult not to get incensed over the topic; in fact, Alistair was finding it near impossible. He know what he wanted to say.

'You are a Senator, Katherine,' he wanted to bellow disbelievingly, and clap a hand firmly on the back of the seat to punctuated his statement. 'Of anyone in this country, you have the power to do something about it!'

But Alistair didn't. He made the motion to clap his hand against the edge of the backrest, but it didn't come down with any authority. "The Jesus Joker?" he inquired, not meeting her eyes. He wasn't sure he could at the moment.

"Look me in the eyes, Alistair. And say what you're thinking."

There was a pause. His chin lifted to look her dead in the eye.

"You are a Senator, Katherine," Alistair explained curtly, breaking one of his steadfast rules. "You have a vote on this legislation - I don't have a vote on it, your secretary doesn't have a vote on it, the entire population of Washington doesn't have a vote on it. You do. You are our representative and you're trying to pawn your responsibility therein on some... heroes? Really? That's your leadership?" Alistair inquired calmly.

He looked down at his hands gripping the chair. He couldn't see the faint scars, but he knew they were there. It wasn't as if he really expected her to do anything about it, but... Alistair could be indignant. Secrets did nothing to change who he was; he was one of them and the person who was supposed to represent him wasn't.

"My vote doesn't matter," she said, her voice dull. "I've tried. I thought I had some pull in that goddamn city-" Meaning D.C. "But I don't, apparently, or not enough. The president has a hard-on for this bill and he's going to push it through or else. And with public sentiment the way it is, there's nothing that's going to stop it."

"If I vote against, there will be... consequences." Katherine didn't specify what those were. "It's very well to tell me to vote my conscience, Alistair, but what happens if that fails?"

"You're right. This is completely a move born of desperation because I don't have any other ideas." And I risk everything by showing you how much this matters to me. She stood. "I'm sorry to have involved you in what is so clearly an ill-considered idea."

Alistair met her eyes and held them, thumb working subconsciously over the leather of the chair. "What idea?" he said after a moment. He could figure out what those consequences would be. It would be potential political suicide - she'd certainly have to switch parties. It'd be a hell of a fight next election.

"What was it you said? The Jesus Jokers?" The smile that she gave him was not pleasant. Her fingers laced together. "Alistair, this act... it's only the beginning of what they intend."

"Yes. A second try on the Alien Disease Containment Bill. This time with 'quarantine'," Alistair stated with quoting fingers knowingly.

"No. I mean, more directly than that." Katherine answered. "Yang* is talking about the underground. I think the word that he used specifically was 'flush.' He's going to 'flush' out the Jokers." There was no smile on her face now, not even a trace of it. "If we can't protect these people with the force of law, don't we have a responsibility to do what we can do to protect them?"

Alistair paused.

"Imprisonment?" he asked, hesitantly.

"You can't imprison people en masse," Katherine replied, knowing that the state had a history of doing just that. "What we can do is try to prevent these things from happening again and again. Or we can use wild cards to help protect their own, where we can."

This wasn't easy. She had no road map for what she was proposing, no previous example to guide her that hadn't failed. She wondered if this was how the Four Aces had felt before the fall. Then again, she didn't have four. She only had one and he was sitting across from her, bearing the weight of a burden he couldn't possibly understand. He's not a joker, Kat. Don't push this. But this was all she had.

"It was what I meant by heroes... No, I suppose that what I meant wasn't heroism at all. It was..." She steadied herself. This was the moment where he would stand up and walk away. "I don't want the jokers to go down without a fight, Alistair. But I can't do this politically."

It was contrary to everything that the party stood for and she knew it. Her finger returned to her ear, wrenching it hard.

Alistair watched her quietly, watched her move, listened to the weight of his voice. He should walk out of the room right now, if only for plausible deniability's sake.

He should walk out of the room and call Amelia. It wasn't assured that Xavy would be any safer in California, but... it was the difference between a perceived threat and an eminent one. Apparently.

"What was. What was the point where you decided this?" he asked. The power dynamic between them at this moment was so odd and fluid, Alistair was gentle to press. "That this was too far?"

When I was nine years old.

Her mouth was dry. She swallowed, trying to erase the sensation of her heart, the way that it throbbed down into her skin instead of beneath it. No. Nine years old had not been when she'd decided. At nine, she was still convinced that her parents were going to make it all better. She simply hadn't known what better actually meant.

"When I handed you a glass of water last Tuesday," Katherine said instead. "That was how it started. I watched you drink a glass of water and then I went into my office, closed the door and answered the phone. You drank four glasses of water in that ten minutes while I listened to Huxley beg for my vote." She paused. "I owe him. He made me."

"But then... then, I was watching the water cooler drain and I stopped actually hearing his words. What I heard then was what he meant. I heard the hate. There was nothing but hate in his voice, the pitch- the speed- it was all irrational." Katherine stood up again and walked over to the cooler now, pouring another cup of water and holding it in her hands as she leaned back against the wall. "I understood then that he had made me, yes. But into what?"

I betrayed my own people. But she couldn't say that. There was no one who shared that horror with her. And that was why she couldn't say her intentions in a way that made any sense. She was only telling him half the story.

"This is the time," she continued, her hand digging into the paper cup so hard that the water sloshed over her fingertips. "For you to walk away, if that's what you want to do. Or, if you truly think it's best, you can pick up the phone and call the governor. Tell her I'm hysterical, hormonal, homicidal... take your pick."

"I'm not sure you're not all three," Alistair replied, eyes wary as trepidation made his heart pulse a little quicker. There was one bit of information that would make her off-the-rails thought process look more legitimate, but it couldn't be right. He couldn't be the catalyst because she didn't know.

Did she?

He could count all the people who knew on both hands and still have fingers left. What was more, he'd never given a reason for her to pursue such secretive information. For all of his faults, he was loyal as hell.

Which was a problem just this moment. He was loyal as hell. It was why he wasn't still acting as policy council in the Washington State Senate - she'd asked him back and he'd come because that was what he did. But this was... it reminded him of being twenty and walking out on Amelia without a word because nothing had come to mind except the need to think. If he followed that to the logical conclusion of that comparison, he'd be back.

Fuck.

Katherine looked into Alistair's eyes and tried to read what he was thinking. Does he know now? The pause worried her.

There were so many opportunities that could have clued him to her deformities. She remembered walking swiftly from a convention floor once after a button slipped off her shirt, ignoring his call until she found a sweater in a coat room and slid it on. Pulling away from the embraces of strangers and instead offering a firm hand before they could pull her close. Never appearing in a swimsuit at beach fundraisers or a low-cut gown at formal events... Katherine knew that these were things which could be attributed to morality or neurosis or any of a dozen character quirks. It was likely that Alistair never thought of her enough to notice any of it.

But what if he had? And what if, now that she was asking for the insane, he understood that she was acting in her own self-interest? This wasn't about politics.

In all of her career, Katherine never compromised. Hers was not a career of negotiating but of acting, whatever the cost, whatever the circumstance. There was no reason for this to be any different.

But he was the only person left that she trusted.

She took a drink from the cup of water. Her mouth was still dry as she set the cup down, pressing her chapped lips together and swallowing audibly.

"Please, Alistair," she said, still looking in his eyes.

Yes. Fuck was the correct word.

"Alright. Talk. Sensically, please. What are you looking for?" he said, retaking his seat and pulled his tablet back into his lap. This was their relationship: Katherine wanted something, Alistair made it happen.

"I need a place for them to meet. A headquarters." Her body shifted, relaxing slightly as she moved back over to the other side of the desk, still not sitting. "And we need to find a way to bug that place, inside and out. I don't want any surprises."

Katherine picked up a list, glancing it over. "We'll set a time and a place once I find out more of what Yang's planning. If something is going to happen, we need to get these individuals out of the way so that they don't become targets of the police." This was comfortable. This was a pattern she understood, not the confused, shifting fear that had erupted a few moments before.

She tried not to wonder whether or not Alistair had acquiesced because he'd realized she carried a joker herself. It was easier to let it go. For now.

"And whom are you planning to house in this place? In case accommodations need to be made?" Lord knew he knew enough about that.

"I'll get you a list," Katherine said, repressing a smile. "I haven't the particulars yet." There was no need to tell him that she'd been waiting for his approval before completely setting events in motion. It was better in fact, Katherine thought, that he not know.

He nodded, though it wasn't especially enthusiastic. "Alright, I'll.." he trailed off, a little at loss for what exactly he was going to do. "I'll."

"I'll figure something out."

Alistair didn't know if she was doing the right thing, but the fact he didn't know if she was doing the wrong thing either gave him enough doubt to work in. Just enough doubt not to doubt himself; at least in this respect. Looking at Katherine, the lingering question of whether or not she knew... she had to, he thought suddenly. She couldn't be sure that--

No, Alistair thought again. He'd never given any inkling of an impression that he would agree with a law such as this and he was loyal. That would be enough to loosen her lips. Surely.

"That's all that I can ask." The warmth in her eyes was almost enough to blue the grey despite the fact that her smile was slight. It was only broad when she was using it to lie. "Thank you, Alistair."

"You can thank me when this is over. I'll appreciate it more," he replied and rose up to gather his bottle of water.

"Promise me something, Senator?"

She hesitated but answered, "Yes?"

Alistair paused in a way that he didn't think was dramatic. "That you're not going to change your mind."

Her eyes dropped. She didn't respond immediately, her thumb rubbing against the ring on her index finger.

"I've never broken a promise to you," she said.

"You're careful enough in your wording of things, I'm well aware," Alistair replied bluntly. "This isn't about verbal gymnastics. This is a promise to the spirit, not the letter, of the law."

Because if she did, the obvious thing would be to pin it all on him and wash her hands of the whole thing.

"Yes." Katherine looked up. "Yes. I promise that I'm in this until the end." Her chin lifted. "If I didn't feel it was important, I wouldn't put you at this risk. But it is." Her hand reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's... it is."

He nodded once and that was that. Alistair moved towards the door to get started.

Then stopped. The question was on the tip of his tongue.

He continued to the door and pulled it open, again not giving the secretary a second glance.