Revolution

by Shawn Davis

  Peter saw Nicole’s face also turn a slight shade of pink as she contemplated this.

  “Yes, Mr. President. The government did compensate us generously for our losses. Still, I don’t see what that has to do with the status of rebel activity.”

  What a woman! She’s standing up to the President and holding her own!

  “It has everything to do with it!” Frump shouted, losing his patience. Leaning over the table, he pointed an accusatory finger at her. “If the terrorists are as formidable as your private analysts believe, then you already know that this government will compensate you for your losses with taxpayer money!”

  “That’s true, Mr. President. You have set that precedent and we appreciate it. Your government has been a good friend to business in this country,” Ms. Brenton agreed, relenting. Her frown was gone, but her face still retained its pink shade.

  “Very good, Ms. Brenton. We can’t see eye to eye on everything. The important thing is that we can work together for the benefit of the country,” Frump said.

  “Absolutely, Mr. President. I agree,” Ms. Brenton replied.

  She’s backing down! She’s not as strong as I thought she was. I don’t know if I can blame her. Her business depends on the support of the President’s capricious administration.

  “Good, then we’re all agreed,” Lydon interjected, glancing around the table as he adjusted his tie. Clearly, he wanted the meeting to be over so he could meet with his lawyers.

  “Excellent then,” the President said, surveying the group. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

  “Mr. President, there’s just one more issue I’m concerned about,” Ms. Brenton said, politely.

  “Sure, Ms. Brenton. That’s what this meeting is for,” the President replied, frowning.

  “There is a serious question of ethics relating to this administration’s Body Bank Project,” Ms. Brenton said, locking her gorgeous blue eyes with each pair of eyes around the table.

  The President looked like he had been struck in the face. The pink on his face faded and turned pale. After a moment of silence, a faint blush grew on his cheeks and redness began spreading like a pool of blood. He appeared to be trying hard to contain his anger. “Okay, Ms. Brenton. It’s rather late in the Body Bank project to bring up objections, but we’ll indulge you,” Frump said, condescendingly.

  “Mr. President, before you jump to conclusions, I want to stress that I’m not talking about the entire project,” Brenton said. “The project as a whole is a success. I’m only concerned about some isolated reports from some of our technical people working on the project. I’m not even sure if the reports are true or not. I just wanted to let you know it was a concern.”

  Frump appeared to relax upon hearing her apparent equivocation. Most of the redness faded from his face, leaving a slight pink afterglow on his tanned cheeks.

  “Ms. Brenton, I’m sorry if I sound argumentative. If we’re going to work together effectively, I have to be open to your concerns,” Frump said, trying to sound sincere, but sounding forced instead.

  “Mr. President, several of our researchers at the government’s Body Bank facility have observed possible ethical anomalies in the lab,” Brenton said. “There is evidence in the Body Bank’s computers indicating that non-criminals are being used as test subjects. The evidence also suggests that the use of ordinary, middle-class civilians for cryogenic operations has been systematized. These reports are very alarming. If word of this were to get out in the national news media, it could bring down all of our organizations and, quite possibly, the government. I’m not bringing up these allegations to foment conflict. I’m only concerned out of sheer self-preservation.”

  “I appreciate your concerns, Ms. Brenton, and I promise you there will be a full investigation,” the President stated, authoritatively. “Bring me all the evidence you have collected regarding the allegations and I will have the government’s Special Investigations Division start an immediate inquiry.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. I would appreciate it if you could assuage my anxiety about the allegations,” Brenton replied.

  “I will have a full report for you within the month,” Frump said.

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Also, I will need the names of all your company’s informants so the government can interview them,” Frump added, menacingly.

  “Okay, sure,” Nicole replied, uneasily.

  Peter felt for her as he noticed perspiration on her brow and he watched her loosen the collar on her shirt. Apparently, she already suspected that none of her informants would survive the “interviews.”

  “No problem. Any other concerns?” the President asked.

  The members of the group glanced nervously at each other.

  “Okay, then. This meeting is concluded. It’s good to see you all again,” the President said. “We’ll set up another meeting for next month. I’d like to invite you all to stay as guests in the Presidential Tower for as long as you want. Feel free to use any of the facilities in the Tower or the city.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Nicole said.

  “Thank you,” the remaining businessmen and pseudo-businessman replied in sync.

  “If there’s anything you need to make your stay on the island more enjoyable, feel free to contact me personally. I hope you all have an excellent stay in New Washington,” President Frump said.

  The President picked up his pile of paperwork and strode across the wide conference room floor. The steel door rushed open as he approached. He stepped through the doorway and it closed behind him. The rest of the group stood and gathered their belongings from the table.

  Rayne gathered up his paperwork, stealing a few discreet glances at Ms. Brenton.

  This meeting has gone far better than I planned! The President did all the talking, so all my studying on the previous night was superfluous! That means I can relax for a change.

  Peter turned to his right when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. His heartbeat speeded up when he saw Nicole Brenton standing in front of him. Glancing left, he saw the other two businessmen striding out of the conference room side-by-side.

  Apparently, Nicole had stayed behind to talk to him. Turning toward her, he felt his pulse racing like a high school kid with a crush on the prom queen. He thought she was even better looking close up.

  “Hello, Malcom, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your father,” Brenton said.

  “Oh, hi, Ms. Brenton,” Peter replied.

  “Please, call me Nicole. If we’re going to be business partners, we might as well know each other on a first name basis.”

  “Sure, Nicole,” Rayne said, wiping sweat from his brow.

  Her proximity to him was wreaking havoc on his physiological system. He had to fight to concentrate on her eyes and not look down to scan her voluptuous body. Still, he was aware that her body was only several inches away and he felt a rush in his brain at the thought of her close proximity.

  “Malcom, you seemed to be rather ambivalent during the meeting. Am I correct in my assessment?” Nicole asked.

  Rayne had to use all his willpower to concentrate. He imagined that he was talking to an ordinary woman as he tried to focus on his response.

  “Yes, Nicole. That’s very observant of you,” he said.

  “That’s what I thought. The others were chomping at the bit to get the details of the President’s new contract. You seemed more detached. I respected that.”

  “Thank you, Nicole. I saw that you had some ambivalent reactions as well.”

  “Absolutely. Despite the President’s assurances, I have the feeling he is using this ruse to get inside our companies and steal our secrets. What better way to do it than make us partners in a joint venture with the government?” Nicole asked.

  “That’s a good point. I also find it disturbing that there’s no alternative plan or compromise available for us to choose. I think the idea of choice is merely an
illusion he’s giving us to pacify us,” Peter replied.

  “You’re very perceptive, Malcom. I think you and I should go somewhere and talk in more detail.”

  Is she flirting with me?

  Peter felt his heart beating in his chest like a jackhammer.

  Surely, she isn’t interested in me! Maybe she is only concerned with business and I am overreacting.

  Peter tried to calm his racing mind so he could think of something to say.

  “Okay, Nicole, where – ” he began.

  “How about if we go up to the Crest Club and have a couple drinks?” she suggested as a hint of a smile formed on the corner of her red, pouty lips.

  “Sure, the Crest Club. That’s a good idea,” Rayne agreed without knowing what she was talking about.

  “Malcom, are you feeling all right? You look a little flushed,” Nicole observed as the familiar furrow of concern formed between her eyebrows.

  “No, I’m fine. I just need some air. I found the President’s proposal somewhat stressful,” Rayne said.

  “You’re not the only one, Malcom. Relax, and we’ll go have a drink. Sound good?” Nicole asked.

  “It does.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  She strode confidently toward the door on her long, smooth legs, as Rayne followed close behind like a lapdog. He appreciated the excellent view of her body as he walked behind her. She dropped back so they could walk side-by-side. The automatic door rushed open at their approach. They traveled down the security corridor between the conference room and the lobby.

  “Have you ever been to the Crest Club before, Malcom?” she asked, smiling.

  “No, but I’ve heard a lot about it,” Rayne replied.

  Actually, he had never heard it mentioned before in his life, but he thought it was best to play along.

  “I’ve seen your father at the Crest Club plenty of times, but I know I’ve never seen you there. I would have remembered,” Nicole murmured, provocatively.

  “Yeah, me too,” Peter replied – not knowing how to reply.

  The metal door at the end of the security corridor rushed open. They entered the lobby and walked past the security guard posing as the President’s secretary.

  “I’ve talked to your father several times. He’s a very intelligent man,” Nicole said.

  “Yes, he’s spoken well of you too,” Rayne lied.

  “Oh really? What has he said?” Nicole asked.

  “He said you’re a very intelligent businesswoman.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “He also said you were a very beautiful lady,” Peter improvised.

  “Really?” Nicole asked.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “He wasn’t just being nice. It’s true,” Rayne said, feeling like he was acting out a clichéd flirtation scene.

  “Thank you.” Nicole said, smiling.

  They entered the outside corridor. The other plain-clothes security guard was standing by the elevator door. Nicole ignored the guard as if he wasn’t there. She walked past him and pressed the elevator door button. Peter nodded to the guard and followed Nicole onto the elevator. He stood next to her as she pressed a button for the 126h floor; the top floor of the Tower. The elevator ascended several flights and halted.

  The door opened to an unexpected scene. Rayne’s eyes widened with surprise as he looked beyond the elevator opening. He was staring at a dirt walkway curving through what appeared to be a verdant tropical rainforest. Sunlight reflected from the bright green leaves of lush vegetation and towering palm trees surrounding the path ahead.

  Peter felt somewhat shocked as he gazed at the scene, but he tried to recover his composure as Nicole stepped out of the elevator and walked down the path. He followed her, assimilating the details of the tropical environment like an aborigine stepping foot into a major city.

  He looked up and saw the sun shining through the foliage.

  Is this another example of holographic imaging?

  Then, he realized where he was.

  I’m in the dome at the top of the Presidential Tower. It looks like a polished mirror from the outside, but from the inside it appears to be completely transparent, allowing the sun to shine through.

  Glancing up, Rayne saw the blue sky peeking out from behind the topmost leaves of the palm trees.

  I get it now. The dome is basically a tropical terrarium. It resembles Broderick’s indoor office garden on a far grander scale. The transparent dome allows the tropical plants and trees to obtain their nourishment directly from the sun without the assistance of artificial sun lamps. They probably have a sprinkler system set up to simulate rain when it’s needed. Otherwise, the dome is completely insulated from the outside environment.

  Rayne estimated the interior of the dome was kept at a comfortable 75 degrees. Peter and Nicole walked down the path, plunging deeper into the manufactured paradise

  Chapter 30

  The Crest

  Rayne followed his guide down the path, studying every detail of her voluptuous form. He felt overwhelmed by the combination of her beauty and the tropical beauty of his new surroundings.

  I never expected the mission to turn out like this! This is more like a vacation, not an undercover assignment. Here we are strolling down a path through a tropical forest replica floating high atop the Presidential Tower in the nation’s capitol city. It’s as if the most unlikely fantasies dreamed up by my subconscious have suddenly become a reality. I have no other choice but to go with the flow and enjoy the experience. I’ve had enough tough breaks in the past few days. Why not take a real break and have some fun for a change?

  They reached a fork in the path that split through the foliage to the left and right. A wooden sign was placed between the two paths – describing destinations. The top of the sign listed CLUBHOUSE and pointed to the left. The bottom listed GARDENS, pointing to the right. Rayne followed Ms. Brenton down the left path.

  “What are the gardens like?” Rayne asked, trying to initiate conversation.

  “Oh, you’ve never been there?” Nicole asked, flashing him a sultry smile as she continued to take long, confident strides.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “The garden path is pretty amazing,” Nicole said. “Maybe we’ll walk it after we get a drink. Thousands of rare flowers have been gathered from all over the world. There is also a section containing rare and extinct animals.”

  “What kind of animals do they have?” Peter asked.

  “You name it. Lions, monkeys, tigers, zebras, and whatever else you can think of.” Nicole replied.

  “I take it they’re in cages?”

  “Even better than that,” Nicole said. “They set up invisible barriers throughout the garden that fence the animals into sections. They use self-cleaning Plexiglas that is completely clear so it gives the impression the animals are wandering around free. It’s the same technology they used to build the transparent dome surrounding us.”

  “That sounds somewhat disconcerting,” Rayne observed, dryly, thinking about matching strides with an African Bengal Tiger.

  “Only in the lion and tiger sections,” Ms. Brenton explained. “The lions and tigers tend to follow alongside you as you walk the path. Sometimes, they even charge the barriers and act surprised when they strike an invisible wall. That gives you an idea of how clear it is.”

  “Pretty impressive,” Rayne said.

  “We’ll check it out later, if you want.”

  “Sure. Good idea.”

  I won’t object to her suggestion, but I’ll do everything I can to avoid walking that path. The last thing my nerves need are dangerous wild animals charging at me.

  The path eventually opened up to a spacious clearing about the size of a football field. It was dominated by a wide blue pool set up to simulate a tropical lake. Palm trees, rocks, and assorted plants surrounded the pool to give it a realistic tropical appearance.

  Peter looked
past the palm tree perimeter and caught a glimpse of people swimming in the glittering water. An antique two-story structure could be seen in the distance beyond the far edge of the large pool. The paths branched to the left and right, circling around each side of the artificial lake until they converged at the clubhouse on the far shore. He and Nicole took the right path.

  “The water looks beautiful,” Rayne observed.

  “It does,” Brenton agreed.

  Peter gazed through the openings in the palm trees, watching the sunlight glistening on the placid blue surface of the artificial lake. He observed a man and a woman swimming through the water toward a raft floating in the center.

  This is definitely the life.

  “We’ll go for a swim after we get a drink,” Nicole suggested as they walked side-by-side along the path, gazing at the winter sunlight glittering on the tranquil water.

  “Sure,” Rayne agreed.

  I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. The lake looks like it belongs in a tropical island resort, not at the top of a one hundred and twenty six-story skyscraper during the month of May. The illusion is perfect.

  Looking up, Rayne saw the bright blue sky. Glancing right, he saw bright green tropical foliage replete with palm trees. Glancing left, he saw a neat line of palm trees bordering the edge of the lake.

  I could easily forget the outside world and stay here forever.

  The path led to a small sandy beach on the far edge of the lake. Rayne watched an array of contented, half-dressed tourists lying on comfortable beach chairs catching the rays of the sun. His eyes widened when he saw small waves lapping against the sandy shoreline. The pseudo-lake even had waves engineered by a hidden machine.

  They walked past the beach until they reached a wide courtyard, interspersed with palm trees, in front of the clubhouse. The courtyard was filled with circular tables where elite tourists sat eating and drinking at their leisure. Umbrellas hovered above the tables on metal anti-grav plates, keeping the augmented sun from striking the diners. A virtual army of white-tuxedoed waiters and waitresses rushed back and forth from the clubhouse to the various tables. Rayne looked up at the green neon sign floating on anti-grav plates above the clubhouse: CREST CLUB.