Dan’s room is dark—the only light the blue glow of his computer monitors. He’s on the tenth floor, same as us, just down the hall in fact. A tech genius with a penchant for illegal surveillance and the skills to back up his passions, Dan has made sure that his hospital bed is surrounded by rolling desks with all his computer gear on it. He lies in the bed with his leg suspended. It is healing well, according to the doctor, even if his heart seems pretty much shattered.
“Merl!” he says, a big smile overtaking his handsome face.
“Dan.” Merl’s voice is warm and his own smile as broad.
Dan pushes back one of the rollaway desks and shifts. His suspended leg makes movement awkward, but Merl leans over and they manage to hug and even do that manly pat on the back thing. “Great to see you,” Merl says.
“You too.” Dan grins. “It’s been too long.” His gaze travels to Merl’s dogs, who followed us into the room and are now sitting behind him. “Hey guys,” Dan says. Their tails wag.
I turn on a lamp, shifting the light in the room to something normal. “Your eyes are going to give out on you,” I say.
“I have blue light blockers on my screens.” Dan grins at me—his expression all mischievous little boy.
Merl takes the chair next to Dan’s bed and I pull up another. Dan has worked out of his makeshift hospital room since we got back here. His office in the underground command room is up spiral stairs and he isn’t even allowed on crutches yet.
“How are you feeling?” Merl asks.
“I can’t wait to get the fuck out of this bed,” Dan answers, his voice upbeat, almost joking.
“I bet,” Merl says, smiling.
“How is Mo-Ping?” Dan asks after Merl’s partner.
“She’s good.”
“I’m an asshole,” I say. Dan and Merl both look over at me. Neither argues against my proclamation. “Sorry I didn’t ask after her, I’m such a jerk.”
“Too busy thinking about how to burn down society,” Merl says with a smile.
“Burn down society?” Dan asks, interested, his gaze falling on me.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I want to…burn it all down.”
Dan pulls one of his rolling desks closer; a silver laptop sits on it. “Tell me more,” he says, his fingers poised over the keyboard as if he wants to take notes on my delusional wish to upend all of humanity. I can’t help but smile. Dan is a good friend.
“I just…it’s not working,” I say. “Human society is not working for anyone.”
“That’s not true,” Dan says. “There are plenty of people it’s working for…Robert Maxim, Richard Chiles, I could go on.”
I ignore the sarcasm about those two masters of the universe, while taking his point that millions of well-off people continue to believe human society is working just fine. “Sure, on the outside,” I say, sitting forward. “Society works for people with money and influence. They have security. But when so many people are suffering, are they truly well off?”
Dan smiles at me like I am naive. “Yeah, they are,” he answers.
I fall back into the chair and cross my arms. Blue moves closer, resting his giant head in my lap, offering me comfort. It works. I play with one of his velvety ears.
“There are plenty of people in the crypto space trying to disrupt society,” Dan says, his tone distant, like he is talking to himself. “The idea that decentralizing banking will even the playing field is at the heart of the movement. As you know, I put all the money you stole from Kurt Jessup into crypto.”
“You did?” I ask.
Dan’s eyes flick up from his screen. “Sydney, do you read any of the emails I send you? Ever?”
“I open them,” I say, my tone defensive. “I just don’t really read them,” I admit. “Not the ones about money anyway. I trust you.”
Dan huffs a laugh. “It’s a good thing I’m so trustworthy.”
“I also don’t really get it,” I continue my confessional. “I’m not…” I wave my hand around my head. “It’s not what I think about.”
“Well,” Dan says. “If you want to change the world, burn down the existing system, then money is the place to start.”
“Merl says that I should work on changing myself.”
Dan laughs again. “Sure,” he agrees. “If you want to change your perspective, then that’s definitely a good move.”
“Is there anything but perspective?” Merl asks.
“Yes,” Dan answers with another laugh. “I mean, I get what you’re saying on a high level. But the fact is that all the meditating and inward searching in the world won’t fundamentally change society.” Merl doesn’t argue that point. “But disrupting the banking system…that will have an effect.”
“I guess,” I say, the image of the spider web coming back into my mind. “But the problem seems to be that…it’s almost like we are living in different realities.” I pause for a minute, trying to order my thoughts. “I literally don’t understand how it is possible in so many parts of the world to think that women should not hold power. Like, it’s not even that it makes me mad; I mean it does. Obviously.” I roll my eyes at myself.
“Righteous anger…” Merl smiles at me.
“Exactly, I’m so freaking right,” I laugh. “But I’m not the only person who thinks that.”
“You’re just one of the few who fights for what you believe,” Dan says.
I shake my head. “No, everyone fights for what they believe. Maybe not with their fists. But they hold onto the status quo with a death grip. People would rather die than be wrong. What the fuck is that about?” I ask, exasperated. “I mean, come on.”
Merl laughs again and I can’t help but join him. “Look,” he says, leaning forward. “I think this comes back to perspective, like I said. We are stuck in our perspectives, right?” I nod. “And we know that more information is not the solution,” Merl says, turning to Dan.
“No, people will gladly dismiss anything that does not fit their narrative. However, we can manipulate people’s realities and change their beliefs. Rebecca and I have been working on that for years. And it was the basis for my work with Consuela.”
“Right,” Merl says as if Dan has proved his point. “Trying to change someone else’s narrative with facts, though, is useless. If I say that is red,” Merl points to the TV on the wall—the only screen in the room not on, “and Sydney, you think it’s blue, and Dan, you say it’s green, we will never find a consensus.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” I say. “Consensus happens within groups like ours. We share a perspective. And even with those I disagree, I am at least capable of seeing where they’re coming from. I understand that some people see women as inferior.”
“But you don’t accept it,” Merl says, as if now I’ve proven his point.
“No, of course not!”
“And that is the problem.”
“Me not accepting other people’s perspectives that I deeply disagree with? That’s the problem?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yes,” Merl says, sitting back in his chair. “Because the people on the other side feel just as strongly about their position. Your refusal to accept other people’s perspectives is what keeps us all trapped in our own—you don’t have to agree with it in order to accept it.”
Dan is watching our byplay like a tennis match, his gaze flicking back and forth. “But why not just do away with the concept of money?” he asks.
Merl and I both turn to him. “What?” Merl asks, echoing my own thoughts.
“Look.” Dan adjusts in his bed, shifting to sit up a little straighter. “There is a movement that is trying to undo the damage of money.”
“Money is inert,” I say. “That’s like accusing all those prison buildings for high incarceration rates.”
Dan’s head dips from side to side. “But let me ask you a question: if we didn’t have so many prisons, would we lock up less people?”
“I guess, but would the world be safer?”
“That’s not the question,” Dan says. “Without prisons, we wouldn’t have prisoners. So without money, we wouldn’t have wealth disparity.”
“But how would we exchange goods and services of different value?” I ask. “How would Joyful Justice operate without our investments that create income? Can you really get rid of money?”
“Maybe,” Dan says. “I’ve been invited to a meeting to try to figure that out.”
“What?” Merl again speaks my thoughts aloud.
Dan sighs again, as if he is trying to explain fire to a caveman. “You know the hacking group Anonymous?”
“Yeah,” I say. “You’ve worked with them on projects before.”
Dan smiles like I’m cute and naive, again. “Yeah, I’ve worked with them.” He makes it sound like he’s done more than that.
“You’re a member,” I guess.
“No duh, Sydney.”
“You don’t have to be rude,” I say, teasing in my voice.
Dan laughs. “I’m involved in the community,” he says, a big smile on his face. “And I’m also involved in crypto and blockchain technologies—I’m an architect of several coins and technology in that realm. My main concern being the environmental impact.”
“Right,” Merl says. “That makes sense.”
“Not to me,” I say, feeling like a kindergartener at the college lecture. “Come on, guys, you know I’m deeply confused about the internet and how it works. The image in my mind is like a bunch of pneumatic tubes all sending information around.”
Dan laughs. “I mean, you’re not totally wrong…while also being completely incorrect.”
“I’m going to say that’s a state I am often in.”
We all laugh at how much I do not know about the world and how information travels through it.
“I think you should come with me,” Dan says. “To the meeting. Hear what these folks have to say.”
“Okay, when is it?” I ask.
“About a month.” Dan gestures to his cast. “This thing should be gone by then.”
“Where is it?” I ask.
“Not sure yet.”
Dan turns to Merl. “Do you want to come?”
“Let me think about it.”
“Okay.”
A knock at the suite door draws our attention. “Come in,” Dan calls. His second-in-command, Rebecca, enters the room. She’s wearing a collared T-shirt and board shorts, a bandanna around her neck. Her short hair is spikey with salt water. “Hey, Rebecca,” Dan says. “Have you met Merl?”
Merl stands. “Not in person,” he says.
“Great to meet you,” Rebecca says, taking his proffered hand. “Sorry to break up this party, but I think there is something you need to see,” she says to Dan. He turns to his screens. “It’s in the Panther Discord.” His mouse clicks as he navigates.
Dan’s eyes scan as he reads. Then they rise to mine. “Sydney,” he clears his throat. “Do you have any idea why Robert Maxim would be buying up cryptocurrency?”
I shake my head. “Dan, I hardly even know what cryptocurrency is…”
Sensing Rebecca’s gaze, I turn to her. She is looking at me like I just said I didn’t really understand what that big burning ball in the sky is. She blinks, recovering.
“He is doing something big and hiding it pretty damn well…”
“Well, someone figured it out,” I say. “It’s on whatever Discord is.”
“It’s a private chat app where you can join threads on different topics hosted by individuals—sort of like a Facebook group.”
“I’m not on Facebook, Dan.”
“You’re not on any social media?” Rebecca asks.
“No, not really conducive with the life of an international fugitive,” I say. It’s my turn to look at her like she’s the crazy one.
“You don’t have any dummy accounts so you can stay connected and shielded?”
“That’s what I have Dan for,” I say.
He rolls his eyes but smiles, too. “I think you should call Robert and ask him what he’s doing.”
“You think he’ll just tell me?”
“His answer will tell us something.”
“Not me, I don’t know enough to pick up nuance.”
“There is not a single communication that happens on this island that isn’t monitored,” Dan says, his voice serious. “Remember what happened?”
“Yes,” I answer. An attack on the island from the inside—blackmailers turned some members of Joyful Justice. Dan missed it because, according to him, he wasn’t being enough of a stalker big brother.
“Robert will know that,” Merl says. “He won’t tell her anything he doesn’t want us to hear.”
“I know,” Dan says. “But I’m telling you, he will reveal something.”
I nod, agreeing. “I told him I wanted to burn it all down,” I say slowly, my thoughts turning. “Do you think he’s…”
“Starting to do it?” Dan asks, his words coming slowly as well.
Holy shit, is Robert doing that thing he does, where he gives me what I want? And then asks for me in exchange…