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Authors: Shawn Davis,Robert Moore

Revolution (39 page)

BOOK: Revolution
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    “Absolutely, Ms. Brenton. Total autonomy of your company’s intellectual property is written into the contract. Your incentive to participate will be the potential profits you can earn through the GTD’s inevitable research breakthroughs. This leaves it up to your discretion how much you want to participate.”

    “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Ms. Brenton said, easing up on her frown. “As long as we still maintain complete control of all our resources – including our intellectual property.”

    “Absolutely, Ms. Brenton,” the President said. “The only clause in the contract will be a diminution in profits if you decide to invest less in comparison to the other companies. It’s an incentive to make good investments.”

    “I’m not sure I like that,” Nicole said, resuming her full frown. “I thought you said we would each have an equal 20% share in the company.”

    “Absolutely, Ms. Brenton. As long as you contribute 20% of the intellectual resources, you will receive 20% of the profits,” President Frump explained, reasonably. “Research contributions will mostly be accounted for in good faith. I don’t think this administration has given you any reason to distrust us.”

    “I think it’s a fair deal,” Lydon interjected, leaning forward as if in anticipation of future profits. “We get what we contribute.”

    “Absolutely, Mr. Lydon. You will also receive the benefit of the intellectual investments of the other top three technology industries in the country.”

    “When can we see the contract?” Cadell asked.

    “Right now,” Frump said, reaching over to his stack of papers. He handed out four copies of the fifty-page contract to each of the business leaders.

    Peter took his and pretended to be interested in it.

    “I’ll need some time for my lawyers to look through it,” Cadell said, flipping through the pages.

    “So will I,” Lydon added.

    “No problem, gentlemen. I expect nothing less. However, remember that this administration will be grateful for a speedy decision. I would like you to be aware of the targeted tax breaks I have in mind for your personal businesses if the new GTD project goes forward as planned. If things run smoothly, personal income tax breaks for each of you may also be an option.”

    “I can have my decision for you in a week,” Cadell stated, assertively.

    “So can I,” Lydon said.

    “I think I can do that,” Ms. Brenton said, raising a perfectly manicured blonde eyebrow.

    “That won’t be a problem,” Rayne said.

    “Excellent, then. I’ll expect you to return your contracts by the end of the week,” the President said, nodding at the four businesspeople.

    “I just have a few more questions, Ronald,” Nicole Brenton said.

    “No problem. Fire away,” the President replied, smiling.

    “What is the status of the war with the rebels? Is it going to affect our businesses in the future?”

    President Frump’s face turned ashen at the mention of his administration’s major thorn in its side. The President swallowed and plastered a pseudo-smile on his face.

    “You mean the terrorists? Their organization barely exists. Our Federal Security Forces have apprehended or eliminated all but a handful of them.”

    Rayne kept his face impassive, but he smiled inwardly.

    That’s what you think. I seem to recall several thousand rebels working for Campion in New York City alone. Campion estimated there are at least six million rebels nationwide. Enough to put a major dent in the government’s plans.

   “I’m sure you are all familiar with the tragic demise of the so-called peace activist, Martin Prince,” Frump continued, red spots brightening his cheeks. “Months ago, our intelligence sources indicated his peace organization was acting as a front for the terrorist organization. We couldn’t take him out directly because he was too popular. Recently, our security forces arranged a hit and made it look like the deed of a lone psychopath. If we can take out a person in the public eye like Martin Prince, we can take out anyone opposing us – no matter how powerful or influential he/she may be.”

    “Mr. President, I appreciate your optimism, but my own private security consultants have painted a very different picture,” Nicole Brenton said.

    “Is that so, Ms. Brenton?” Frump replied, raising his left eyebrow.

    Rayne thought it was interesting that these people referred to each other by their last names or titles when they became angry.

    “Yes. We started our own investigation into the terrorist organization after two of our most productive plants in Texas were blown up five years ago,” Ms. Brenton said.  “According to our sources, the rebels are still operating in almost every major city in the country.”

    “If you’re referring to the terrorists, Ms. Brenton, then I have to question your research methods and your statistics,” Frump replied as his ashen face turned a light shade of pink. “According to all government reports, there are only a handful that have survived the purges by our Security Forces.”

    “If you say so, Mr. President. Maybe we’ll just have to agree to disagree on the status of the terrorists,” Ms. Brenton said, raising her left eyebrow.

    “Ms. Brenton, I only have one question to ask you,” The President said, glaring at the businesswoman intently. “Did the government compensate you for your losses caused by the explosions at your factories?”

    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.

BOOK: Revolution
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