Kim Robinson - New York 2140

Later that year, in the depths of winter, Mutt and Jeff go downstairs from their hotello on the farm floor, where they have stubbornly remained despite the fact that a hotello is very difficult to heat properly. They join a little party welcoming Charlotte back home from D.C. She is threatening to be a one-term wonder, and some people want to talk her into re-upping, while others want her to come back to New York. No doubt there are those who would like to see her disappeared at sea, but most of the occupants of the Met are proud of her and want to tell her that, and celebrate. There’s a big crowd in the common room, and Mutt and Jeff sit against a wall watching the action and behaving like the wallflowers they are. Mr. Hexter comes over and sits with them.

“Nice party,” he says.

Mutt agrees; Jeff squints. “But where’s Charlotte?”

“She was delayed, she just got in. She’ll be here in a minute, she said.”

And in fact she comes out of the elevator that very moment, with Franklin Garr. They are laughing, and Garr steps back and holds out his hands to present her to the crowd. People cheer.

“So those two are a couple now?” Jeff asks Mutt.

“So I’m told.”

“But that’s absurd.”

“How so? She kept saying he’s a nice young man.”

“But I thought she was supposed to be smart.”

“I think she is.”

“And yet.”

“Well, tastes differ. And besides, he’s been good on the crash. In fact you could say he managed to actually do what you tried to do. What you just waved at with your graffiti hack.”

Jeff grumbles some kind of objection to this characterization, but Mutt is having none of it.

“Come on, Jeff. Your sixteen rules of the global economy, remember? Turn the key on those, you said, and we could fix everything. And now our young comrade here has not only called out the fixes for Charlotte, he also designed the crash that allowed the key to start turning.”

“Okay, whatever, but nice young man ? No. Only a shark could do what he did.”

“But Charlotte is kind of a shark too.”

“Not at all. She’s just someone who gets things done.”

“Like sharks do! Because she has good judgment!”

“Usually she does.”

“So she’s probably seeing something in this guy we don’t.”

“Obviously.”

“Shut up, she’s coming over to say hi.”

Which she does. She looks tired, but happy to be back home among friends. Stefan and Roberto are running around serving drinks to people, and it’s looking like they have filched a few too many sips, as they are glassy-eyed and perhaps might have to do like Romans and go spew and then carry on.

Charlotte regards them. “Boys, don’t get drunk. You’ll regret it.”

They nod like owls and shear off to get more.

She sits down wearily beside Mutt and Jeff and Mr. Hexter. “How are you guys?”

“Cold.”

“I bet. Don’t you want to be the quants who came in from the cold?”

They shrug. “It’s nice to be outside,” Mutt explains. “I think it may be a while before that feeling goes away for us.”

“Like forever,” Jeff adds.

“I understand. So, other than that? How’s work going?”

The two men shrug again. They are like a synchronized shrugging team.

“We’re trying to light up the dark pools. Build a little spoof-catching program.”

“It would stop front-running too.”

“Good to hear,” Charlotte said. “Have you spoken to Larry Jackman about it?”

“He knows. It’s one of the outstanding problems. Of which there are many.”

“What are you going to do with all the money coming in?” Mutt asks her.

She laughs. “Spend it!”

“But on what?”

“We’ll find things. Maybe just up the living wage. Free people up to work on what they want. Like you guys.”

“Some people like to fuck things up.”

She nods. “Like about half the members of Congress.”

“So how do you deal with them?”

“I don’t. I yell at them. Right now we’ve got the momentum, so I do my best to steamroll them. Introduce a bill a day. Like a flurry in boxing. So far it’s been working.”

“So you can’t quit, right?”

“Oh yes I can! I want to come back here. There’s things to do here. And D.C. will take care of itself. It doesn’t need me.”

“I hope that’s true,” Mutt says.

“Sure it is. They don’t need me.”

They do their shrug. They’re not so sure. There’s only one Charlotte.

With an effort she gets up. “Okay, I’m going to mingle. Good to see you guys.”

“You too. Thanks.”

Then Inspector Gen emerges from the elevator and walks by.

“Hey Inspector!” Mutt says. “How are ya?”

She stops. Cop on the beat, hang with her people. “I’m okay. Working. How are you guys?”

“We’re good.”

She grabs a free chair from the nearest table and sits down heavily beside them. “I was just here for a shower and now I’m on my way back out. My assistants are gonna come get me and we’re going back to work.”

“Now? It’s late, isn’t it?”

“We’re on a case. There’s something I want to find as soon as we can.”

“Hey speaking of cases,” Mutt says, “did you ever find out anything more about whoever it was who kept us in that container?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing much. Nothing I could prove. I think I know who might have done it, but we never got evidence solid enough for a conviction.”

“That’s too bad. I don’t like the idea that they’re still out there.”

“Or that they got away with it,” Jeff adds grimly.

She nods. “Well, that’s right. But, you know. Some of the people involved with that might have thought they were doing you a favor. Might have thought they were saving you from something worse.”

“I wondered about that,” Jeff says.

“It’s just a theory. I’ll be keeping my eye on the people who might have been involved. Not the ones who thought they were helping you, just the ones who actually did it. They’re a bunch of idiots, so they’re bound to fuck up sooner or later in a way where we can nail them.”

“We hope so,” Mutt says.

Inspector Gen nods wearily. “Meanwhile, my assistant Sean finally got a package out of the SEC, some stuff they got in a bundle when the Chicago exchange got hacked. Sean said it was mostly a bunch of crazy political stuff, SEC couldn’t make anything of it, but there were some financial fixes in it that they’ve actually put to use. You boys know anything about that?”

“Not me,” Mutt says. “Sounds like some different kind of idiot.”

“Maybe so.” The inspector stares at them. “Well, you take help where you can get it, right?”

“Oh definitely, certainly. That’s what we do all the time.”

Then her two assistants show up, a young man and woman in uniforms, bags of sandwiches in hand.

“Okay, back to work,” the inspector says, standing up with a groan. “I’ll see you guys up on the farm.”

Off the three officers go, headed for another long night in front of their screens. Mutt and Jeff know what that’s like, and give each other a glance.

“She works hard.”

“She likes to work.”

“I guess that’s right. Also, it passes the time.”

It passes the time; and then you don’t have to think. Don’t have to have a life. This is what they know, and so they watch the inspector leave with puzzled expressions on their faces. How can they help their friend, caught as they are in the same trap themselves? It’s a mystery to be gnawed at.