Revolution (40 page)

    “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 126
h
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

    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.

   
No wonder they call it the Crest Club. This must be the highest club on the planet.

    Peter followed Nicole to a table with a view of the lake. When they were seated, a waitress scurried toward them from the clubhouse. Rayne figured they must have had sensors installed at the tables so the service staff knew the instant a customer sat down.

    “Hi, how may I help you?” a pretty young waitress asked with an insincere smile stretched across her tan face.

    “I’d like a Bacardi and Diet Coke,” Nicole said.

    “And you, sir?” the waitress asked, turning toward Peter.

   
Will I be committing a social elite faux pas if I order a beer? Just to be safe, I’ll order a mixed drink like Nicole.

    “I’ll take a Captain’s and Coke,” Rayne said, before adding as an afterthought, “Please.”

    “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back with your drinks,” the waitress said, flashing them a stunning fake smile before turning and hurrying back toward the clubhouse.

    Peter felt a flutter of nervousness now that he was sitting face-to-face with the high-powered beauty.

   
What if I say something wrong and she figures out I’m not the real Malcom Getty?

    “So, Malcom, here we are.” Nicole said as she grinned and crossed her long legs. She leaned back in her chair. “Sitting in a club atop the most famous skyscraper in the world. What’s going through your mind?”

    Rayne figured he couldn’t tell the truth. So, he did what he had been doing since he started the mission. He lied.

    “I’m thinking, I’m glad we got that meeting over quickly so we can enjoy the rest of the day,” he said, flashing her – what he hoped – was a charming smile.

    “What a coincidence. That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Nicole said, smiling a crooked grin. Peter thought he was going to fall over backwards when he saw her lick her top lip.

    “I’ve been to better meetings,” he added, smiling.

   
I might as well be myself. If I’m going to give myself away, I’m going to give myself away. I’ll just try to act like I think an Executive would act. I’ll act the way I always wanted to act, but never could. It’s time to indulge in some fantasy role-playing.

    “So have I. Much better meetings,” Nicole agreed, laughing. “I thought Frump was going to strangle me when I asked him about the status of the rebels!”

    “So did I,” Peter said, leaning forward confidentially. “Did you see how red his face got? It looked like he was going to blow a gasket!”

    “I really thought he was going to reach across the table and wrap his hands around my throat!” Nicole added, laughing nervously.

    The waitress returned with the drinks and mixed them up. She gave the Bacardi and Diet Coke to Rayne and the Captain’s and Coke to Brenton. They each took one sip, smiled at each other, and handed the drinks across the table.

    “Thank you very much,” Peter said to the waitress.

    “You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else,” she said, scurrying away.

    “Sure, thanks for screwing up our order,” Nicole added, laughing and sipping her drink.

    Rayne laughed politely. He wondered where the waitress was in her ten-hour shift: the beginning, the middle, or the end.

    Probably, the middle
.

    Peter took a long, slow sip of his drink and sighed.

    “What are we going to do to keep you from getting into any more trouble?” Rayne asked, feeling like a movie star as he leaned back in his comfortable chair sipping his mixed drink.

    “You think I’m going to get into more trouble?” Brenton asked as her red lips curled into an alluring smile.

    “It seems to be your pattern,” Peter said, raising an eyebrow.

    “What are you saying? That I’m difficult?”

    “Why don’t we ask the President?”

    “Good point. I’m sure he’s ready to have me tarred and feathered.”

    “Now, there’s an unusual visual,” Rayne said, a half-smile forming on his face.

    Brenton laughed and took another sip of her drink. Her expression turned serious and she sat up straight in her chair.

    “You’re nothing like I thought you would be, Malcom,” she stated as if quoting an undisputed natural law.

    “What did you think I would be like?” Rayne asked.

    “Like your father.”

    “I don’t think we’re that different,” Rayne said, enjoying the irony.

    “Of course you are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your father smile. With him, it’s all business.”

    “Well, they do say talent skips a generation. I guess I have to live up to my reputation as the black sheep of the family.”

    Nicole laughed.

   
This is a good direction to go in because it will help explain why I’m so different from my supposed father.

    “Oh, so you’re the black sheep, are you? You know, I’m somewhat of a black sheep myself,” Nicole said, smiling mischievously.

    She paused and her face turned serious again as she leaned toward him. 

    “I mean, I’m good at my job. Cryotech’s stockholders have never seen higher earnings. But I also know how to relax and have fun.”

    “That’s very important.”

    “Which one? High earnings or having fun?” Nicole asked, smiling.

    “Both, of course,” Peter said, smiling back. “To high earnings and having fun,” he added, lifting his glass for a toast. Nicole’s gorgeous smile widened as she clinked her glass against his.

    “To high earnings and fun,” she repeated before taking a long, slow sip of her drink. “I think I’m ready for another,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl as she observed the millimeter of liquid left in her glass. “I don’t know, Malcom. I think you’re a bad influence on me.”

    “Maybe I am. But, I don’t see you complaining,” Rayne said, tapping the red button on the edge of the table that would call the waitress back.

    The waitress returned with unnatural speed.

    “The lady will have another Bacardi and Diet,” Rayne said.

    “Yes, sir,” The waitress replied, walking away.

    “Why, Malcom, are you trying to get me drunk?” Nicole purred, smiling at him sultrily.

    “You got a problem with that?” Peter replied, raising his left eyebrow.

    Nicole laughed.

    “You’re nothing like I expected,” she said.

    “You keep saying that. Did you think I was going to be like those other stiffs in that meeting?” Rayne asked.

    “Actually, I did,” Nicole said, laughing as she took her drink from the waitress’s hand.

    “I hope I’m not as predictable as those bores,” Peter said.

    “Oh no, I wouldn’t worry about that. You’re the farthest thing from predictable.”

   
If she only knew how unpredictable I really am. She would be on the phone calling Tower Security right now.

    “It’s nice to finally meet someone with a personality,” Nicole said.

    “It is a pleasant change,” Peter agreed.

    “I didn’t think I said anything outrageous at that meeting,” she said, turning suddenly serious again.

    “Neither did I,” Rayne agreed, going instantly into serious-mode. “In fact, I had the same ideas.”

    “You did?”

    “Absolutely. I was thinking the same thing about my business. Am I going to be able to maintain complete control over my intellectual property? Or is the government going to stick its inept fingers into my pie and crush it in the process?”