“Not outside variables,” Huck continued. It was as if his conversation with Gordy hadn’t happened. “I’m not discussing the possibility of survivors. To my knowledge, we have systemically handled the issue of unknowns. And my rangers will continue to do periodic sweeps. No, I’m here today to discuss those who were initially necessary to the cause, so we might have overlooked their unsavoriness before. But now, as we move into Phase Three, as we move to the Islands, they are no longer welcome here. They are not part of our elite group...they are intruders to our way of life and my plans for the future.”
Huck turned to Scott and held out his hand. Scott cleared his throat and his hand went to his pocket, he felt the smooth plastic on his fingertips. Huck made a grabbing motion. Scott hesitated.
“Keep them then,” Huck said flippantly. “If you’re willing to administer the vials yourself.”
Scott wanted to answer that it wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to get his hands dirty on behalf of Huck’s whims, but he refrained from upsetting the fragile balance. “I haven’t been able to test on human—”
The door to the boardroom opened and Gordy walked in first, followed by a bulking man in a thin white shirt and a jittery female whose hair was teased off her crown, a long forgotten dye job exposing the darkness of her roots against brash faux red cascading down her back. The woman looked to Claude first and then narrowed her gaze. She snapped her fingers and a teenage boy slogged through the doorway on her heels; his hands were shoved into his jeans pockets: his deep-set eyes flashed from one person to another, sizing them up with an undercurrent of latent hostility.
Gordy situated the family in front of a monitor and made them go live to the Elektos board with a flip of a switch. Without explanation, their faces were broadcasted to the six underground Systems, and every board member examined the new arrivals with cautious curiosity.
“Mr. and Mrs. Brikham...their son Charles,” Huck announced. “They requested a meeting with the Board and I have granted them their request today. Welcome, Brikhams.”
The husband cleared his throat. “Hello.”
The boardrooms went silent. Someone tapped a writing implement on his desk and when he realized it was the only sound on the monitors, he stopped.
Gordy rolled his eyes.
Blair noted it all.
Huck motioned for the man to continue. “You have their attention,” he prodded. “Certainly you aren’t having second thoughts?”
“No,” the man snapped and Scott drew in a quick breath. Raising his chin, the man cleared his throat a second time and his wife pursed her lips and crossed her arms. Scott couldn’t stop looking at the harshness of her hair and how hard she tried to tame it. “My name is Eugene Brikham. You heard of me?” the man asked the faces in the monitor. The Board looked at him with soured expressions, no one answered.
“Yeah, well, I’m a big name here in the US.” He paused and postured, leaning closer to the camera.
Someone sniggered.
“What?” Eugene said defensively, scanning the faces in front of him. “That’s funny to someone?”
Mueez pointed to himself. “Yes, me. You are aware that the United States of America no longer exists. Your fame died with it.”
Eugene stiffened at the tone and looked to Huck. “What is this?” Huck raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say a word. The visitor motioned to the faces watching him on the monitors. “Some kind of joke? I thought I was going to meet the people in charge. This little set-up is ruling the world?”
Huck leaned back in his chair and let out a slow sigh. “You asked, Mr. Brikham, and I delivered. You have an audience with the Board, but I cannot promise you more than that. You currently have their attention, too, and I would suggest you keep it...you won’t have it for long.”
Only Scott truly understood the reality of that threat.
Three vials. One for each of them.
Scott looked away from the visitors and found a small mark on the wall on which to fix his attention.
“Yeah, okay, well,” Eugene stammered. “Look, Huck and I have been in communication for years. There were promises made, okay? This place? I built this.” Eugene motioned to the ceiling, the walls. His wife nodded, her lips still drawn together. The teenager hadn’t moved a muscle. He stared at the screen without a hint of interest.
From the corner of his eye, Scott saw Claude sit up a bit straighter and lean his body forward. Clasping his hands together, Claude rested them upon the table and watched the trio with interest.
“Which part?” Claude asked.
“What?” Eugene asked, balking at the question, turning his attention from the screen to Claude, and back again.
“Which part did you build?”
“Not like, built it with my hands...I meant...my money built this place. It was financed by me and my company. Every penny—”
Huck shook his head. “Not every penny.”
“I was promised things.” Eugene looked wildly from each face in the room to each face on the screen. “I want what me and my family were owed.”
His wife leaned forward. Scott’s eyes rose from his spot on the wall and he watched her in person. She raised a finger and pointed at Huck, the bangles on her wrist clanging inharmoniously. “I should be able to eat in the Sky Room when I want to.” Her voice was lower than Scott had imagined it would be. “And I want a bigger place. And you’re out of your mind if I have to be regulated to that five-minute shower rule. The people who helped supply the finances, the means, we deserve things. It’s our right. I’m not some lowlife...tell them, Eugene, tell them what we were promised. Luxury. And this? This underground shithole...”
Huck cleared his throat, “Well, that took a turn. Let’s just settle down.”
“Is he telling me to watch my language now? Jesus Christ.” The wife crossed her arms and looked over at her husband with a perfected coldness.
Her husband patted her arm to placate her and turned his attention back to the group. “This entire enterprise is a far cry from what I was promised. How hard is it to give us a better apartment? Reward the people. You know?”
David, Roman’s Elektos partner in Australia, waited until he was certain it was okay to interject, and then he launched. “Reward you? Are you out of your mind, mate? Isn’t your inclusion here reward enough? And besides, the new world only works if you view yourself as part of a team. And I’m sure you remember how that old adage goes...”
The teenager Charles scoffed. He tugged his shirt down over his hands and let them fall on the table with a bang.
“By all means,” Huck said, “let’s allow all the Brikhams a voice.” Then he settled backward in his chair and waited. “Go ahead, young man. You think you have something valuable to add? We’re all waiting.”
“My son doesn’t answer to anybody except his father and me,” the woman snapped and she put her hand on her son’s head and wrapped her fingers in his messy hair. He scooched out from under her love-pat and shot his mother a dismissive look.
“I can talk, Mom,” Charles said, and he stretched his arms upward, his hands popping out. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” the kid complained. “This isn’t what he,” Charles nodded toward Huck, “promised us.”
“I’m hearing this a lot...this idea that you didn’t receive what you expected. So, I must ask. What did he promise you, young man?” Morowa asked.
The kid rolled his eyes and leaned forward. He looked at Morowa on the screen and shrugged. “You know. Like my mom said.”
If the accusations bothered Huck, he didn’t seemed disturbed. He eyed the family with nonchalance and picked at the edges of his fingernails.
“You’ll have to be more specific if we are expected to understand,” Morowa continued. “To the best of my knowledge, your family was promised safety. And nothing more.”
“Safety?” Eugene slapped his hand against the table. Scott jumped, unsettled. “I could have, wi
th a fraction of the money I gave the Elektos Corporation, built myself a bunker in the middle of the godforsaken desert for just myself and my family. Could have bought myself my own safety from this nutjob.” He thumbed his finger at Huck.
“A fairytale,” Huck said under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Eugene looked up from the screen, his nostrils flaring. “I didn’t need you. You needed me. You think you can play me for a fool? What’s done is done, and I know that. But I deserve my share. If you can’t provide my family what we’re due here, then when we go to the Islands, we expect to see what we’re owed. Tenfold.”
“I did need you, Mr. Brikham. You and your billions of dollars, which you saved through various legal loopholes and good old fashioned tax evasion. I needed your money then because money still mattered. But it doesn’t matter now. You were guaranteed life. Nothing more. Had you denied me, we would have stonewalled your every effort to save yourself.”
The wife muttered the word “monster” underneath her breath. Huck ignored it.
“You want to maintain a shred of the old world...but none of that exists. Now you’re in my home. And you’ll do as I say.”
“My money was worth something to you. You took it happily. And now you’re going to discard me like a cheap whore?”
Scott noticed Claude cringe, and they both looked to the wife, who kept nodding, nodding, nodding. The room felt hot and sticky; Scott wished he could open a window, let in some air. But there was no air, only the illusion of air.
“We’re not going down like this,” the man hesitated. “We’ve been talking to the others...those whose entire lives were spent cultivating the cash that built these places. We want our share. We want decision-making power. Your Elektos Board shouldn’t be by appointment. We want elections.”
The Board members whispered and their hushed voices played on the boardroom speakers. Eugene raised his head and looked at Huck triumphantly. He had struck a nerve.
“You think you say it and...poof...it will happen? That the Board will nod their heads and relinquish their role here?” Huck shook his head and laughed. “You’re delusional. This is my chosen cabinet.”
“I have a voice and I was taught how to use it,” Eugene answered. “I’m not the only one who feels like our role has been relegated to blind follower, instead of the leaders we deserve to be. We are owed. We will take our payment...now. Or else we will rally the others to stand against you and your shameful Board.”
That pronouncement stopped Huck’s laughter and he trained his eyes on the man.
Charles looked across the table at Scott and shifted as if noticing his presence for the first time. He elbowed his mother and leaned over to whisper in her ear; she stared at Scott and then pulled her head away.
“My son says that you are Lucy’s father,” the woman said, turning her full attention to Scott. “Is that right?”
Scott put his hand against his pocket and counted. One. Two. Three. Then he decided against answering her. He kept his mouth shut. She took his silence as an invitation for mockery.
“Lucky Lucy,” Mrs. Brikham said in a singsong voice. “And her little boyfriend...Grant. Oh yeah, we heard all about that little fiasco. Is that one of the perks of being on the Board? Grandfathering in outsiders despite the rules.” She turned her head to Huck, her eyes sharpened like talons. “I have one child. And this man,” she jerked her head to Scott, “has six. And you wouldn’t even let me save my niece? Denied her despite my pleas to save her. But you let that other child come, right? Someone else’s child was brought from the outside, but you wouldn’t let my family live? She was two years old. You let her die...”
The Board members watched the conversation unfold with rapt attention. Someone whispered, “They found a child?”
“It was a slippery slope,” Huck answered without emotion. “I am deeply sorry, but I must ask…where would it have ended? How many people could we realistically saved before this place and the places around the world became unsustainable? We made decisions for our future.” He pushed his index finger into the table, the tip turned white, and he breathed heavily out of his nostrils. “I did what was best for the future of society. You cannot think my only motivation was pure maliciousness. I mourn every innocent we could not save.” He stopped, and took a breath. “We could not save them all. These are my burdens to bear, and not yours.”
From the screen, Victor had raised his hand, and waited for acknowledgment. When Huck motioned for him to speak, he looked perplexed. “Excuse me if I am speaking out of turn, but we are in the dark. You found survivors?”
Huck nodded, his entire face tense, and he put up a hand to quell the anticipated backlash.
“I will address that secondary issue at a later time,” Huck replied through a tight smile. He could feel his tenuous grasp slipping, the balance shifting from his favor. “Mr. Brikham has proposed that we allow the Board to be an elected position...along with treating our financial benefactors as celebrities, as they are accustomed. And that is clearly the more pressing matter.”
“Is that a joke?” someone asked.
“Perhaps it was sarcasm,” another answered.
“We turned a blind eye to late arrivals...like you asked,” Mueez replied. He turned to Shay, the second board member in the Saudi System and they began to confer in low voices.
Eugene, watched the buzz and fiery debate spring up around him on the screens and he sat straighter in his chair, waiting for a moment to jump back into the conversation. His wife patted him on the back, but he didn’t acknowledge her touch or her presence; he just stared intently at the screen and then at the people in the room, the side of his mouth twitching.
Scott felt his insides go watery. He tapped his foot against the floor and kept his eyes trained on the wall.
From several feet away, Claude turned and looked at him. “Easy, friend,” he said in a whisper.
Scott didn’t need to know all the moves in Huck’s game of chess to know that from the moment Eugene Brikham opened his mouth he had already lost this game. The vials in his pocket said so. If Brikham had wanted to prolong his fight, he should have come to the Board with the issue of survivors as his primary objective. The Elektos Board required transparency to run well, and Huck’s nondisclosure of Lucy, Grant, Ethan, and Teddy’s presence was more damaging than Brikham might have realized.
Huck had underestimated the Brikhams’ ability to cause damage in their wake. He would win, but they would make him pay all the same.
“Eugene Brikham,” Huck said in a loud voice. Among the chaos of the Board’s inquisition, Huck had pulled out a manila file, and he began reading the contents in a steady, unyielding voice, commanding those to listen. “Felony assault. You attacked a young man at a party with broken bottle.”
Eugene laughed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You have a file on me? Oh, that is rich. You knew everything about me when you approached me as a partner. You want to talk crime? Let’s talk about crime. I got nothing compared to you, Boss.”
Huck continued without pausing. He flicked through the papers. “Sexual harassment.” He lifted his eyes. “Rape.”
Immediately, Eugene’s laugh disappeared and he leaned forward. “No,” he pointed his finger at Huck. “No. Not true.”
“That bitch lied,” Mrs. Brikham said, and she crossed her arms, too, sticking her lip out in a pout. “Tell him, Eugene. Tell him how she blackmailed you.”
“She was after my money,” the man said matter-of-factly. “That was expunged, anyway. It’s old news.”
“They had DNA proof,” Huck said. He squinted at the text and then looked up, “A whole file on it. Your DNA under her fingernails. Pictures of your scratched face.”
Eugene turned white, but his eyes flashed pure fury. “That’s not in any file,” he said. “You’re lying.” The big man stood up and the chair toppled behind him. Gordy stepped forward and set it upright; even though he was s
everal inches shorter, he stood behind him, making his presence felt.
“It’s most certainly your file. Paying corrupt cops to destroy evidence does not prevent it from reappearing. Especially when I have the best of the best working for me. You think you’re the only one whose services I needed and paid for? People like you disgust me. Read it for yourself. The truth about you is a heartbeat away...there is no escaping it.” Huck closed the folder and placed it on the table, then he put his palm on top and pushed it forward; it slid and stopped within Eugene’s reach.
“That was a different life. You said it yourself,” Eugene replied in a whisper. He eyed the folder, but didn’t go after it. “We’re here now. Things are different.”
“No, we said your money is of no use to us anymore. It doesn’t gain you power or privilege or help you escape the law,” Gordy clarified. Eugene jolted and turned, surprised to see him standing there.
“My son is right. Character lasts forever.”
Eugene put both hands on the boardroom table and leaned forward. “Character? You want to talk about character? You’re a man who killed the world. I’m sorry, so sorry...depopulated. Isn’t that the word you used with me? Does it help you sleep at night when you say it like that? You have a piece of paper in a file that means nothing. And that girl is dead. You were the one who made sure of that. Decomposing in her living room, for all I care. She’s a non-factor. I built this place!”
“No,” Claude replied, now standing, too. “I built this place. And you should sit, my son. Before you do something you regret.”
Turning his attention to the tall black man before him, Eugene eyed him with disdain before plopping himself back down.
Scott exhaled.
The faces on the screens were riveted, unmoving. They watched the drama unfold like a teleplay, afraid to interrupt.
“That girl is dead. And deserves to rot,” Eugene mumbled from his chair. “How dare you walk her into this.”
The words hit Huck and he recoiled. He rose from his seat and walked with steady footsteps to Scott and put his hand on his shoulder.
The Variables (Virulent Book 3) Page 3
