Chapter 18: Huma X Jerry

While that conversation with Homer had been less than helpful Huma was not overly concerned about failure in regard to Jerry Shankar. All Huma really had to do was keep Jerry talking. For the sake of this interview Shankar had insisted upon an outrageous level of proxies and buffering and security protection and all that nonsense. It didn't matter how many layers of protection that Shankar had. Sooner or later Shankar's position would be detected, then the drones would be sent in, and that was the end of that.

There was no chance of Shankar prematurely ending the interview. This was going to be the first, and only chance Jerry Shankar would have of being able to send a message out on a legitimate platform. Huma had already faced a great deal of pressure, much of it public even, from other journalists and journalistic organizations concerned about the horrifying precedent this set. Of course, Huma was more famous and well-respected than the whole lot of them. Huma didn't have to care what they thought. And they would shut up rather quick once the unambiguous destruction of Jerry Shankar was broadcast to the whole country.

Huma was so unconcerned about the possible risk that for this desktop interview, where Huma would only be visible from the chest up, Huma wasn't even wearing pants. Or for that matter, panties. It was a subtle, yet distinctive means of showing disrespect to Shankar that would do wonders for Huma's own self-confidence in what was to be the most important interview of either of their lives. The sense of faint arousal allowed by sitting down in such a way was also pleasurable, reminding Huma of cruder times with the Internet, when she was a mere camperson.

"Well," said Huma, "here goes."

Huma turned on the monitor. And right in front, black as night, was Jerry Shankar, tightly bundled up in several layers of dark clothes, wearing a bowler hat, as well as mittens. Shankar glowered, holding up a newspaper with the day's date- December 26th.

"I hope," said Shankar, "that you are satisfied I'm not a recording."

"Oh no," said Huma, nodding, carefully smiling. "Such methods are crude, and besides, it's the early afternoon. But don't worry Jerry Shankar. I've reviewed every minute of all your footage, and you have never dressed up in...quite so eccentric an outfit before. Neither has anyone else in my records. The odds of this being some manner of deep fake deception are quite low."

"Well!" said Jerry Shankar, throwing the newspaper away, smiling. "I'm flattered."

"You shouldn't be," said Huma,. "The effort required for me to go through such research is trivial."

"Ah, yes," said Jerry Shankar. "I've heard of it. Your memory augment-"

"But we're not here to talk about me, Jerry Shankar," Huma said. "We-"

"Please call me Jerry."

"Right then, Jerry," said Huma, trying to avoid spitting out the informal name through gritted teeth. "Now that you're here, perhaps you would-"

"We're on livestream right?"

"Yes," said Huma. "Of course. Now if you would-"

"Can you prove it?" asked Jerry. "It's very important that this be a live broadcast. Otherwise I'm afraid we're all wasting our time, aren't we?"

"Presumably you have Internet," said Huma. "So you can just check yourself. Now anyway-"

"OK just a sec," said Jerry, furiously typing away at a keyboard. Huma had to resist the urge to groan at the crudeness. No mental interface? Really? How long did it take this person to do anything, even to upload a simple video, if it all had to be done manually?"

"Huh!" said Jerry, reclining a bit. "Wow, just like you promised. Right from the newspaper."

"Why would that be surprising?" asked Huma, voice tinged with annoyance. "It's what we agreed to ahead of time. And if you don't trust me-"

"Of course I don't trust you!" exclaimed Jerry, laughing as hand slapped on knee. "Goodness! And you don't trust me! Do you take us both for fools?"

Huma was feeling more and more agitated. Jerry was, in fact, making both of them look like unprofessional fools. Even direct insults against Huma were something easily weathered. But subtle jabs like this, being dragged down to Shankar's level- these attacks validated the complaints made against Huma for agreeing to this interview in the first place. Huma was tensing up.

"Maybe we should talk about your goals," said Huma. "Perhaps you would like to tell our viewers who you are, and what your goals are?"

"I don't see much point to that personally," said Jerry, with a shrug of the shoulders. "I assume everyone already knows who I am. I have my own platform you know. Why, people all over the country watch and are inspired by my videos every day."

"Then might I ask," said Huma, breathing carefully, "why exactly you agreed to this interview?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you, Miss Reid," said Jerry. "It's not often I have an opportunity to talk to such a very well-respected journalist as yourself."

"Please don't call me that."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Reid? Is there a Mr. Reid?"

"Messr Reid will do, Messr Shankar."

With this Huma finally regained her composure. Trolls had attempted to bait Huma by using gendered pronouns for about as long as Huma could remember at this point. Such acts of provocation were unremarkable, and childish.

"My most sincere apologies, Messr Reid," said Jerry. "I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with the way people talk to each other out on the East Coast."

"That's very interesting," said Huma, accessing relevant files through her mental awareness. "Because according to my research, aren't you a tour guide?"

"What?" asked Jerry, for the first time in the conversation, at a loss for words.

"Do you need more time to consider your answer?" asked Huma. "It is, admittedly, a difficult question, for which the correct answer is only yes or no."

"Aren't there rules against this sort of thing?" asked Jerry. "Releasing information in public that could threaten my life."

"I'm giving no specific details Messr Shankar," said Huma. "If that is indeed your real name. I'm merely asking you to confirm or deny information I have obtained about your chosen vocation that may spread light on who you are, and why you believe what you do. Not to mention, to demonstrate how truthful you are."

"All right, all right," said Jerry. "I admit it. I'm a tour guide. It's really not so strange you know. Sure I preach hatred and destruction of the old United States, of all its institutions. But why should that be so strange, if I'm a tour guide? Most people out in Middle America, they have no idea what you people are like-"

"What do you mean by 'you people', Messr Shankar?" asked Huma patiently.

"The upper classes," said Jerry. "People like you. People who don't have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. Of being evicted out to die in the middle of winter."

"You assume quite a bit Messr Shankar," said Huma. "I may be a relative success today but I wasn't always in such a secure position. Did you know I used to be a camperson?"

"No," said Jerry, nervously. "I don't follow such subcultures."

"Really?" said Huma. "That's very interesting, considering that quite a few of them have subscribed to you, and boosted for you."

"I have nothing against campeople," said Jerry. "But I don't pay attention to everyone who spreads my message."

"I can see you don't want to discuss the subject," said Huma, confident of having inspired a rift among some of Jerry's more misogynistic supporters. "So let's get back to our original topic. I used to be a camperson. But I saved up all of my money, I went to school, and now I'm a world class journalist. Why can't anyone do the same?"

"There are tens of millions of people in this country," said Jerry. "They can't all be world-class journalists."

"But they can do something," said Huma. "Even the campeople."

"I don't think your experiences and opportunities are representative of the average camperson."

"But even so, it seems awfully condescending of you to make presumptions compared to me, an actual camperson."

"An actual former camperson," said Jerry. "And while I would not concede that your experiences were common before the Great Blackout either, the life of a camperson in the post Great Blackout environment has changed significantly."

"I thought you weren't an expert about campeople?"

"It's not about campeople," said Jerry. "Everything has changed. Anyone who provides a service to the wealthy is stuck catering to their whims. There are less options now."

"And yet you call for the wholesale murder of the wealthy," said Huma, "meaning even fewer clients and even less control available for those providing services. How is killing them going to help with that problem?"

Huma was convinced this was a damaging blow, as Shankar had been silent for so long. But bit by bit, so imperceptible Huma almost didn't notice at first, a smile started to crawl from end to end of Shankar's face.

"What a fool I was," said Jerry. "You'll listen to anything I say, you'll do anything to make sure I stay on, so why bother...?"

"Excuse me?" said Huma. "What are you-"

"Your mistake, Messr Reid," said Jerry, leaning in close to the camera, "is to assume that I actually want to solve any of these problems."

"Of course you do," said Huma. "You're just misguided-"

"No," said Jerry, "No no no. Do you negotiate with Nazis?"

"It's not my job to have opinions. I'm only interested in the facts Messr Shankar."

"Well, here are some facts for you," said Jerry. "The power structures of the United States are poison. The mighty blessing of the Great Blackout was that it fractured those hegemons. Set them against each other. Bit by bit, ever since then, we've been tearing you apart from the inside, and you don't even realize it."

"The mysterious deaths," said Huma. "The ones you always mention in your videos, right before they actually happen. Are you responsible for them? How?"

"I'm not confessing to anything," said Jerry. "Although really, even if I did, it's not like you'd try to put me on trial. After all, time's up isn't it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've already tracked down my position," Jerry said. "Or at least, what you think my position is. Obviously those weren't your drones that I just captured. I wonder who you're working with. The Social Justice Army seems most likely-"

Jerry's signal ran out. All of a sudden Hum was left looking at an empty screen.

"Apologies to everyone watching," said Huma. "We appear to be experiencing technical difficulties. I'm going off air to resolve them, and will report on what might have happened at the first available opportunity."

Huma silently cursed. Of course, Huma was the one who cut the connection. In theory everything had gone as planned. But Jerry Shankar hadn't died on camera. And if Jerry Shankar had died at all, one last cryptic warning out first preceded that death. Huma decided to take a break and ask the Rainbow Shirts what happened in an hour, when better information was available. There was no sense bothering them when they were as likely to be perplexed as Huma was, but a lot busier when it came to actually resolving the situation.