“We can’t just ignore a good weapon because using it could make people mad,” said Bangladesh.
“That’s exactly what we should do,” said Mexico. “Seriously, was I the only one paying attention during the Cold War?”
“America ignoring nuclear weapons wouldn’t have stopped the Cold War,” said Chad. “It would have gotten us destroyed by Russia.”
“By the Soviet Union,” Russia corrected. “But yes, it would have.”
“This argument could go on for hours,” said the Philippines. “Most of us haven’t even had breakfast. I say we break for an hour, come up with some good ideas, and start again.”
54
Friday, November 30
6:23 A.M.
United Nations, Manhattan
14 DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD
Three days later, they still didn’t have any good ideas.
Lyle had gotten into the habit of eating an early breakfast with Cynthia, mostly just because Lilly was there, but in the process he had started to see Cynthia outside the bounds of her calculated public persona. It had humanized her, in a way, but at the same time it left Lyle feeling profoundly uncomfortable. Without makeup, without her hair carefully arranged, without her business skirts and fitted jackets and pens and papers and computers and phones—without the accoutrements that made her “her”—she was as disturbingly unreal, in her own way, as the subtle variations he had seen on the thousands of not-quite-Lyles and other ReBirth clones. His opportunity to get to know her better was, in the end, just one more piece of reality twisted and bent.
She sat this morning in sweatpants, barely awake. “The coffee in here is terrible,” she growled.
“If it’s so bad don’t drink it,” said Lilly, sipping from her own foam cup—not coffee, but grapefruit juice. She abhorred coffee, even aside from the celiac issues; she’d never tasted it, but hated the smell. Lyle quite liked both the smell and the flavor, but avoided it here out of deference to her.
He was beginning to realize he had a tendency to do that.
“Don’t talk to me,” Cynthia growled. “I can’t retaliate properly until I’ve had at least one cup.” She took another sip and grimaced. “It’s like drinking thin mud.”
Lilly laughed. “Would it be better if it was thick mud?”
“It would be better if you were dying in a gutter,” said Cynthia.
Lilly looked at Lyle with wide eyes. “That’s a new one.”
“She’s almost done with her cup,” said Lyle, “she can retaliate properly now.”
“Her thin mud has necromantic properties,” said Lilly.
“Her thin mud,” said Cynthia, “has granted her enough lucidity to know that the General Assembly is getting nowhere. The mobs stormed the gates yesterday, and inside we’re still just arguing in circles. They’ll be arguing until the building burns down around them.”
“Then what’s your next move?” asked Lyle. “I assume you have one.”
“I have several,” said Cynthia. “Choosing between them will take at least one more cup of coffee.”
“You realize that coffee’s not actually a stimulant,” said Lilly.
Cynthia grunted. “Spoken by someone who’s never actually tried it.”
“That’s exactly my point,” said Lilly. “The boost you get from coffee is just an addiction response called ‘withdrawal reversal.’ Your body needs it, so you feel down, and then you drink it and you go back up, but the net energy gain is zero. All the caffeine does is restore you to where you would have been in the first place if you weren’t a caffeine drinker.”
“That’s idiotic,” said Cynthia.
“When a sandwich can put you in the hospital, you start paying a lot of attention to food,” said Lilly, and turned to Lyle with an arched eyebrow. “You’re a scientist, Lyle, tell her.”
Lyle chose his words carefully. “It’s definitely addictive, and a lot of what you’re feeling right now is, as you say, withdrawal reversal.”
Lilly pointed at Cynthia triumphantly. “Hah!”
“‘A lot,’ but not all,” said Cynthia, with a look in her eye that showed she was far more alert than Lyle had given her credit for.
“It’s definitely also a stimulant,” he said. He shot the girl an apologetic glance. “It’s the most well-known, widely used stimulant in the entire world. Sorry.”
“But that’s just what Big Pharma tries to tell you!” Lilly protested.
Lyle frowned. “Big Pharma?”
“Big Business, then,” said Lilly. “Big Everything. Caffeine is valuable to you as a stimulant, fake or not, but it’s valuable to them as an uncontrolled addictive substance. Get a kid hooked on energy drinks, make him think he can’t function without them, and boom—you’ve got a customer for life.”
“Make sure to ask for tinfoil on the next supply shipment,” said Cynthia. “I don’t think we have enough on hand to make you a hat.”
“Mock me if you want,” said Lilly, “but let’s remember who’s lucid and who’s not, and which one of us relies on a chemical to become so.”
“That doesn’t imply causation,” said Lyle, before he could stop himself. He hadn’t intended to contradict her any further, but he hadn’t expected a shaky science discussion, either. Lilly shot him a probing glance, and he reluctantly finished his thought. “You’re saying that you wake up quickly because you don’t use caffeine, but it could just as easily be that you don’t use caffeine because you’re naturally inclined to wake up quickly.”
