2014.05.09 - Economic Farcast

The Economy. A strange name, but one that Professor has confirmed exists somewhere in the world of the internet. Having a Celestial AI connected to info streams certainly makes it easier to find such things. The few strange appearances and sightings have been referenced and cross-referenced, and at the moment Cable is looking at Darkseid's mouth filling up with coins in the midst of a diatribe. Who did that? There is no record he can find of someone being able to generate random amounts of money. Afterwards, Darkseid glared at someone in particular who wasn't active. Who?
Professor cross-references dozens of televised incidents. The only person who was looked at and attacked without doing anything visible... is Kilroy. Is he someone with a really stupid power who decided to hassle someone able to disintegrate skyscrapers? Why coins? People claimed coins were doing other helpful things. It can't be that simple. Especially with some recent happenings. It feels like some force of fate powered by humanity's interactions. Interesting. Very interesting.
It wasn't particularly easy. However, after extensive digging, Cable managed to verify that Kilroy had been to Genosha in some capacity. What followed was simple. As he was walking through the city, an advanced device was aimed at him. An invisible beam. All it does is scan genetics.
MUTANT GENE: NEGATIVE.
"Heh." Combined with a financial history even a Celestial AI can't track, and Cable's curious. He's asked to meet Kilroy at a coffee shop, to inquire about Sheer Accounting services. Cable himself is a relative unknown. Some sort of cybernetic mercenary who does a very, very good job of keeping out of the public eye. He'd be sipping lazily at a mug, wearing his trenchcoat. Despite how his size and look is so alien, nobody reacts to him oddly. A mild telepathic field, making him seem mundane. Simple. Of course, Kilroy would be exempt if he came in... even if he might wonder why a hulking half-cybernetic man of imposing statue is sitting in a wooden seat barely supporting metal-infused weight with everything around him going on completely naturally...
Kilroy is currently in Metropolis with half a dozen projects. The board members of Sheer Accounting are screaming at him due to the lost contracts and the lost reputation, so Kilroy is working with people he considers...dubious...to say the least to boost law enforcement in Gotham...whether or not it takes...Between that and undoing Abner's network, it's running him ragged but...
New York is a cynical town. Really. They've seen it all, been there, done that, but there would be at least a FEW stares from folks at the cybernetic guy with the glowing eye thingy. It's....unusual, to say the least. He sips his coffee, and decides whether or not to indulge his curiosity. He sits for a moment and begins making inquiries with the Economy as to the nature of the being before him.
The Economy might be somewhat conflicted. Cable has dozens of names. Hundreds. But no particular personal identity. The name that would come up is what he most consistently uses to call /himself/; Cable. He does not exist in this economy. He is someone entirely off the grid. There is no banks with accounts tied to him, no business, nothing. He does not even seem to buy soda from corner stores. Although he has money on him, it has only ever been used to give to others... and it's acquired from the shattered bodies of villains.
"Kilroy, right?" Cable states in a lazy voice. "Interesting man. I almost laughed when you filled Darkseid's mouth with coins. Interesting power. But not a mutant one. Despite such, you regularly visit Genosha." All the facts appear thrown on the table. How can he be talking about this in public?! Because not a single soul here is hearing it. They are just two men talking over coffee in the eye of the civilians, notable and forgettable in every aspect.
"I'm looking for something known as the Economy. You're a man who can make coins, owns a financial institution of high regard, and has enough dummy accounts and holdings to foil technology a hundred thousand years advanced. ...Figured you just might have an idea about them."
Afterwards, a lazy sip of coffee follows. "Mmm. Said no sugar."
The Economy might be somewhat conflicted. Cable has dozens of names. Hundreds. But no particular personal identity. The name that would come up is what he most consistently uses to call /himself/; Cable. He does not exist in this economy. He is someone entirely off the grid. There is no banks with accounts tied to him, no business, nothing. He does not even seem to buy soda from corner stores. Although he has money on him, it has only ever been used to give to others... and it's acquired from the shattered bodies of villains.
"Kilroy, right?" Cable states in a lazy voice. "Interesting man. I almost laughed when you filled Darkseid's mouth with coins. Interesting power. But not a mutant one. Despite such, you regularly visit Genosha." All the facts appear thrown on the table. How can he be talking about this in public?! Because not a single soul here is hearing it. They are just two men talking over coffee in the eye of the civilians, notable and forgettable in every aspect.
"I'm looking for something known as the Economy. You're a man who can make coins, owns a financial institution of high regard, and has enough dummy accounts and holdings to foil technology a hundred thousand years advanced. ...Figured you just might have an idea about them."
Afterwards, a lazy sip of coffee follows. "Mmm. Said no sugar."
Kilroy is...impressed. Not just from being able to track him down, which he knows is hard to do, but from the sheer places this guy has been. What does he live on? And why would a guy post scarcity be interested in him? "Yes Cable, I think I might know how to get ahold of such a man." He suddenly produces a subway token in his hand, "I can do a few more useful things than that, but I do admit...I keep a low profile because ..well...human ATM, but ...finding ME is easy. Finding the economy is possible. There are not many people who know of both. What might you be looking for the Economy....for...exactly? You clearly don't have much need of funds." He sips his own coffee, straight black.
"Nah. I don't need money. I make my own stuff." Cable offers matter of factly. "I'm curious, I suppose, what sort of things he can do. I might not work with money, but..." He pulls out a stack of bloodied hundred dollar bills, thumping them in the middle of the table. The currency sensed. "This, for example. It was in a safe, where bad people lived, who did bad things. I suppose I was hoping to at least find the trail to where it was laundered. I could go from there on my own. Dig around in some heads. Hack a few systems. But that takes time. Time's a finite of high value to me... so I'm interested in outsourcing."
Kilroy nods and looks at the money for about a minute. "Eddie's Laundromat, 2512 Screaming Drive, West Bludhaven, 5555. Eddie is not the actual owner of the business, that would be Mysterious Tony, who's net worth is $4.5123 million in a series of accounts in the Caymans. It was laundered for some sort of large criminal organization through a dozen accounts, but the chain goes to Mysterious Tony next. It was a truck full of money followed by a Scrumdidlyumptious Jones, followed by Laundry followed by Eddie's ATM's. Any more will take time."
He looks at Cable for a moment and then says, "This is one of the more obscure family secrets in my grandfather's files. There is a blank book, by the grandson of a friend of my grandfather's. The book used to describe a dark future in which humans and mutants fought each other and died. That hero doesn't exist any more....not one of the yous that isn't...but I take the question very seriously, which is why I'm helping Magneto. Genosha must not die. I don't know what you're up to Cable, but if it involves stopping people who build robots designed to kill a sentient race....then I'm happy to help any time you need it."
"Uh." Cable states. It's very rare to see him surprised, but he obviously is. "...Okay." There's no need to write it down. He has an eidetic memory, and it's carefully stored somewhere useful. "That was... a lot faster and more thorough than I had anticipated." After a few moments, he sips more from his coffee. Lost of words. Rare. Kilroy probably doesn't know how impressive that feat is against the normally immobile elder Nathan. "If you aren't the Economy, you are a direct conduit to him." Not really any hiding that after the display. There's no look of judgment or bias from Cable at the mention of Magneto, however.
"Erik is trying to do the right thing. He's just as subtle as a bull. He's getting too extremist about it... hrrm. But it just so happens, I fight for the future, too. I've seen dozens. Hundreds. The countless possible branches of reality. In almost all of them, humanity is either oppressed by a dictator, be it Magneto, Darkseid, Apocalypse, or a government organization of Sentinels, or it ends up destroying itself. Those are rather poor options. I'm trying for #3: Earth manages to coexist peacefully, amongst itself and the rest of the universe. So far as I know it's not been managed yet. ...For now, I'm playing gardener. Society is the crops. And I'm pulling out the weeds."
A metal finger taps the stack. "This money came from someone named Jamil. He ran a house with a shackled mutant in it, creating Mutant Growth Hormone. They were too low end to do it themselves. Someone was running them. And it seems like there's someone who knows how to make this, knows how to make this better than anyone but McCoy, and is trying to make it as common as a street drug. I don't think I need to go into details on what anarchy would happen if MGH hit the streets. Pro-Mutants would take a blow. Anti-Mutants would take a blow. Nobody wins. And that's why I'm going to tear the entire thing down."
There is a moment of silence. For a moment it looks like Kilroy is going to say something very meaningful. In a way he does. "I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts. He inherited the position from a man named Ascot. And he inherited it from a very good man named Yankee." He takes a sip of his coffee, a good strong one and then said, "it's more complicated than that. I'm the economy, but the Economy is also a 'god'...or something more powerful than that. The anthropamorphization of all commercial activity...everywhere...everywhen...it started in a moment when little sad men jumped off buildings on Black Friday and splattered their blood on the pavement below, sacrificing themselves to a God that did not yet then exist....then every time someone traded with someone else...it just...grew, traveling back in time with heroes, out into space, bit by bit in its own time...until...
For a moment, Kilroy looks out at the people passing by, the ones unable to hear him speak, and the ones unable to notice the metaled anomaly. My grandfather was a good man, who did a lot of good that no one will ever know. Very big shoes to fill, but I try. I'd be happy to help stop this abomination from hitting the streets."
"Every night, well..." he pauses sipping. "Every night until a month ago, I had nightmares every night of being chained up and forced to print money for the rest of my life. I might not be a mutant, but I was born with powers I barely understand, and have to deal with a world not of my own making. I can empathize. As for the Imperator going too far...I've told him such, but he isn't listening. I think he's more in the right than his opponents, but that doesn't make it a wise move."
"Yeah." Cable states. Surprisingly, with full understanding. "The communal manifestation, likely transversal, of societies' economical exchanges. True gods without corporeal form tend to appear from the collective thoughts of billions or trillions. Or maybe it was born here. Or maybe that black day is what allowed it to touch Earth. You probably know better than me on that front." He finishes his coffee and slips the mug aside.
"Doing good nobody will ever know. That is where I make my living. A true hero changes the world for the better. A cheap hero dons a cape and rescues people to praise and media, perpetuating the powered feedback loop of villain needing a hero, and heroes creating villains. Pointless. I hope your father understood that, also."
After a few moments, "Magneto is about to cross a line, Kilroy. His intentions are good, but the world won't accept it. He is impatient. Every second he waits, mutants suffer. He can't understand that by pushing this too fast, even more will suffer in the long run..."
Kilroy says, "My grandfather was a good man. My father...went bonkers? Ever notice how global warming is a bit worse in this timeline? How the 2008 crash was so much more bitter? All him. He went supervillain and called himself Cold Hard Cash. Mystique killed him...and I thought he was dead. He may not stay that way. My grandfather understood...so did my father, which is why when he became a villain, he stayed in the shadows and just cursed the whole damn planet." He sighs. 
His thoughts turn to Magneto. "I understand about him. But I can't change him. What I do I do for Genosha, and I think he accepts that, because that's what we have in common. If Genosha falls, Mutants have no where to run to. And I'd bet, though I don't know since I haven't left this timeline, I'd bet that if Genosha falls then it reduces the odds of mutants considerably. As it is, I've got more influence there than a lot of other non mutants could ever hope to have. I'm hoping, somehow, he changes his mind. I'm playing the long game by making myself useful. It doesn't hurt to help gather evidence for the prosecution of war criminals. But yes..." Kilroy sighs, "he isn't patient. And it's cost me. I've had to adopt two identities, one as the Economy and one as the Invisible Hand for when I do work with Genosha. In all cases I avoid the limelight."
"Yeah, I heard about it. Distantly." Cable allows, arms crossing before his broad chest as the civilians continue to whirl around them unaware, not hearing a single word or registering their presence. "Cursing economies, huh? That would certainly destroy society. The exact opposite of what I'm trying to do." There is a sense, though, that Cable is someone that can be trusted. Someone who keeps secrets. This is not any sort of psychic intrusion -- merely the strong charisma of an exceptional leader, more than anything.
"Genosha's fall will rout the world. Genosha starting war will rout the world. I can speak personally with Erik at my leisure. I'll have a talk with him. And if need be, I'll do what has to be done to prevent a public war. I think I know a way of helping him and solving this political issue all at once. ...You have access to Genosha. Give me all the information you have on the primary Russian internment camp locations. Or the people who would know. I'll give him a gift in good faith."
Afterwards, "We're of like mind, then. Doing good out of sight. Working for the future of the world. So. I'll make you an offer. If you say no, I'll just delete it from your mind. No harm, no foul. I'm running a black ops group. We're working to prevent incidents like this from happening. Things with Genosha. Things with Stryker. When no side can publicly win. In those situations, it has to settle in the shadows. ...If you agree, you're more than welcome to join as a reserve. I highly doubt you want to be on the front lines. But as support... your gift would be invaluable."
Last time Kilroy checked, didn't matter to the Imperator WHO took down those camps. Latitude and longitude of each one is conveyed in seconds, all 12 of them. Funny thing about camps....they have guards, and guards, except for the most fanatical of causes, must be paid. Kilroy had been watching them for weeks, counting the population as it fell. Any time he doubted, he just looked at that population count...or the freighter full of kids.
"Stryker's an ***hat. I keep trying to find ways to curse him myself that won't harm innocents. I'm not my father, so that's taking....time. I'd be happy to help Cable. And as for the front lines...well, I'm crazy, and can hold my own in minor battles...I'm a mean hand with a floating Rai stone and I am learning frightening things with salt...but on the whole...I'm a glass cannon. I am a mage after all, and I'm no Zatanna. But support? Support is easy. I'm in."
"Okay. Do me a favor. If you have a means of immediate conveyance, tell Magneto that every one of those camps will be taken care of. Not to wage direct war. And tell him Cable swears this. Make sure he has a complete and perfect alibi. People will try to point fingers at him. But they'll only have a shadow to blame. A shadow with no form or identity. My hand's been forced. I'll fix this myself."
"Welcome to X-Force, then." A coaster is pulled out of his pocket, and pushed over to Kilroy. It has a red button on it, is gray, surprisingly light, and otherwise unremarkable. "Press the button once to signal me to come. Press it twice to signal me that it's an emergency. Let me know when you have a chance to talk to Magneto."
"...Right now, I'm heading to Russia. Bodyslide by one." In a temporal crack, Nathan is gone. Everyone stands still for one full second, before resuming things normally. Kilroy would be offered more coffee, but beyond such, he is free... and hopefully, he has no moral preference to how these camps are taken care of.
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