Wildcard (Warcross #2)(29)

“Oh, come on. The algorithm isn’t taking away people’s drive for life,” Kenn complains. “Just the drive to commit crimes.”

“We might have a bug on our hands that triggers the same reaction,” Mari snaps. She looks to her side. “Hideo, please.”

Hideo’s expression is a tired one, the dark shadows under his eyes only accentuated by the room’s lighting. After a pause, he finally speaks up. “We’ll investigate,” he says. “Immediately.”

Mari smiles in satisfaction at his words, while Kenn starts to argue. Hideo holds up a hand, cutting him off. “I can’t tolerate a potential flaw in the algorithm,” he says, shooting Kenn a disapproving look. His gaze swivels to Mari. “But the algorithm will stay running. We’re not going to pause it.”

“Hideo—” Mari starts.

“The algorithm stays running,” Hideo snaps. His steely reply stills both Mari and Kenn. “Until we have evidence proving Mari’s theory. That’s final.”

I want to scream at him. What are you doing, Hideo?

Kenn’s the first to break the silence. “Norway was on the phone asking what you’d like in exchange for loosening certain restrictions on the algorithm. And the Emirates wants a different set of guidelines for what’s considered illegal there. So, what—now are you going to tell them we’re investigating this rumor?”

“I’m not doing this for favors,” Hideo replies.

I freeze. Hideo’s scheduling meetings with various leaders around the world. The public doesn’t seem to know about the algorithm—or perhaps they are willed not to know—but these presidents and diplomats sure seem to. Morality shifts over country lines. Everyone’s going to want something different from Hideo.

“And you realize the Americans landed on the tarmac this morning, don’t you?” Kenn finishes, glowering at Hideo.

“The Americans can wait.”

“You tell that to their president.”

“He’s a fool,” Hideo replies coolly, cutting him short. “He will do exactly what I tell him to do.”

There’s a breath of hesitation from both Mari and Kenn. Hideo hadn’t even raised his voice with those words—but the power in them is clear. If he wanted to, he could control the US president with a single command from the algorithm. He could give orders to every head of state of every developed nation, of every country in the world. Anyone who has used the NeuroLink.

Anyone—including Kenn. Including Mari. Are they also using beta lenses? They must be; Kenn would probably be more worried about the suicides if he were at risk of being affected. But if Hideo had chosen to give them the privilege of wearing only the beta lenses, then he’s already picking favorites.

Down in the stadium, an enormous cheer explodes from the audience. Shahira, the Andromedan Captain, has just sent Hammie spinning out of control below the clouds, forcing her to spill a rare, precious power-up she’d nabbed. The analysts are talking rapidly, their voices echoing around the stadium.

I look away from the game.

The algorithm is supposed to be neutral. Free from human imperfection, more efficient and thorough than current law enforcement. But that’s always been Hideo’s ridiculous pipe dream. It’s barely been a couple of weeks since he triggered the algorithm, and already, the inefficiencies and tangled webs of human behavior are complicating and corrupting it. What if he does agree to certain favors for certain countries? Special guidelines? Exclusive permissions for wealthy people or political figures? Would he ever go down that path?

Is it even possible for him not to?

“I’ll talk to the Americans,” Mari says. “I’ll take them on a tour of the headquarters and show them some of our new work. They’re distracted easily enough, especially if only for a few days.”

“A few days.” Kenn snorts. “Enough of a delay to set off all kinds of chain reactions.”

Hideo gives his friend a penetrating look. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I’m not in a hurry,” Kenn says defensively. “I’m trying to help you run a business on time. By all means—knock yourself out investigating these unfounded rumors.”

“We’re not here to run a system that’s dysfunctional. If Mari finds something substantial, we’re going to halt the algorithm.”

Kenn shakes his head and sighs in exasperation at Hideo. “This is about Emika, isn’t it?”

I blink. Me? What do I have to do with this?

Hideo seems to have the same reaction, because he lifts an eyebrow at his friend and frowns. “How so?”

“Do I need to lay it out for you? Let’s see.” Kenn holds up a finger. “You walked out in the middle of an interview because a reporter asked you about Emika.” He holds up another. “Your knuckles have been a bloody mess—literally—since you talked to her.” He holds up a third. “Has there been a single day when you haven’t brought her up?”

My face is hot now. Hideo has brought me up every day?

“I’m not in the mood, Kenn,” Hideo mutters.

Kenn shoves his hands in his pockets and leans toward Hideo. “You were going to agree with me on this, remember? That this whole suicide thing was a rumor. Then you have one conversation with Emika, you tell me you’re not interested in seeing her again—and now you’re having Mari start a whole investigation.”