Revolution

by Shawn Davis

  “How’s your father doing?” the President asked.

  Rayne wasn’t expecting this question, but he figured a long hesitation would look worse than blurting out a wrong answer.

  “He’s doing a little better, but he’s still not his old self,” Rayne said, hoping he was in the right ballpark.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve known your father for years. He’s a very important friend of this administration. I hope he feels better soon.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

  “Please, call me Ronald, Malcom.”

  Rayne was stunned into silence for a moment. He was just getting used to the idea of meeting with the President and now the President wanted him to address him by his first name as if they were best friends!

  “Please, Malcom, take a seat,” President Frump said, gesturing to the seat closest to his at the end of the table.

  “Thank you, Mr. President. You’ll forgive me if it takes me awhile to get used to calling you by your first name. I can’t help feeling it’s somewhat disrespectful because we’ve only just met,” Peter said.

  “You’re just like your father, Malcom,” President Frump said, grinning as he sat down at the head of the table. “Your father was always very polite and formal. It’s a sign of good breeding.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Rayne said, taking a seat next to Frump.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Malcom. Like I said before, I’ve heard so much about you from your father,” the President said, folding his hands over his paperwork while he earnestly studied Peter’s face.

  “Thank you, Mr. President. He’s told me a lot about you too. It’s good to finally meet you,” Rayne said.

  “The others should be arriving soon,” President Frump said, glancing impatiently at his watch. “I think Ms. Brenton likes to arrive fashionably late. Of course, it’s worth it when she does arrive. She’s quite a woman. Have you ever met her before?”

  “No, Mr. President. Not yet.”

  “You’ll appreciate the experience. It’s a pleasant change from meeting with old men all day. She’s been at the helm of Cryotech for eight years and she’s doing a fine job. A very fine job.”

  “I look forward to meeting her, sir.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” the President said, winking at him. “Here comes Mr. Cadell now. We might actually get this meeting started before 9 AM, if we’re lucky.”

  Rayne glanced at his watch and saw it was already 8:02 AM. He was the only one who had arrived early. He hoped he hadn’t made some kind of social elite faux pas.

  The President stood to greet the newcomer: a tall, stately, gray-haired gentleman in his early sixties wearing a $5,000 gold-pinstriped black suit.

  “Nice to see you, Jimmy,” the President said, shaking his hand.

  “Likewise, Ronny,” the older man said, giving Frump a firm handshake. He walked around the table and took the seat closest to the President across the table from Rayne.

  “We’re still waiting for Mr. Nichols and Ms. Brenton,” the President explained as the elderly gentleman placed his briefcase on the table.

  “I don’t think you gentlemen have met before,” President Frump continued. “Malcom, this is Lawrence Cadell. He’s worked with your father in the past.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Rayne said, extending his hand across the table.

  “Likewise,” Cadell replied, shaking his hand without looking up from his paperwork.

  “Lawrence, you’ve probably already realized this is Getty Sr.’s son, Malcom,” Frump said.

  “Yes, I’ve heard about you from your father,” Cadell said, absently, still without looking at Rayne. He opened his briefcase and took out some folders.

  There was a quick hiss of air as the conference room door rushed open. Two people walked through the doorway. The man on the left was tall and relatively young, in his mid-thirties, wearing a thousand dollar gray suit. Rayne ignored this gentleman in favor of his companion. The woman striding confidently into the room beside him was a knockout. The President hadn’t been joking. It was difficult to tell her age. She could have been in her late twenties or late-thirties. The lush curves of her breasts and hips were tantalizing under her conservative gray business suit. Her face was beautiful: high cheekbones and graceful curves. Her blonde hair was tied back, but this did nothing to diminish her overall beauty. Peter thought she was absolutely stunning.

  Peter hesitated a moment as the President and business leader, Cadell, stood from the table. After an awkward moment, he followed their lead and stood staring at the approaching beauty with wide eyes.

  “Didn’t I tell you, Malcom?” the President whispered in Rayne’s ear.

  “Yes, you did,” Peter replied, absently.

  Rayne stared in awe as the voluptuous businesswoman glided gracefully toward the conference table like a model walking a runway. She approached the President and shook his hand.

  “How are you Ronald?” she asked.

  “Very good, Nicole. And you?” Frump replied.

  “Very good, thank you.”

  Rayne watched, entranced, as she gracefully disengaged her slim hand from the President’s large, tanned hand. Circling lithely around to the other side of the table, she shook hands with Lawrence Cadell and sat beside him. Apparently, this was the cue for everyone to sit. This time, Rayne didn’t hesitate and sat down with the others. Even with the gorgeous distraction, he was still a fast learner. His fixation on the female newcomer caused him to barely notice the other businessman sitting next to him. The businessman had to tap him on the shoulder to bring his gaze away from her.

  “Hello, I’m Douglas Lydon, of Lydon Industries,” the young man said, offering his hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Rayne replied, tearing his gaze away from the businesswoman’s gorgeous face, with difficulty. “I’m Malcom Getty,” he added, shaking Lydon’s hand without looking at him.

  “Good morning, gentlemen and lady,” the President stated from his position at the head of the conference table. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet with all of you again. As you can see, Getty Senior’s son, Malcom, will be sitting in for him for this year’s meeting. Getty Sr. has been having some health problems, but we hope he will recover quickly,” the President said, nodding solemnly at the fake Malcom.

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Rayne said, nodding back.

  “Now on to business,” the President said. “We are reaching a critical point in our nation’s technological progress. I have brought you all here to form an unprecedented alliance. Most of you are familiar with the other businessmen and woman sitting at this table. You are the leaders of the most advanced high tech firms in the country. You are also the most direct beneficiaries of the recent trillion dollar technology bailout.” President Frump paused dramatically and stared briefly at each individual around the table before introducing them. “We have Lawrence Cadell of the Oriontech Corporation,” he gestured and nodded at the older businessman. “Nicole Brenton of Cryotech International……..Douglas Lydon of Lydon Technologies……..and Malcom Getty of Cryogen Inc.”

  The President gave them a moment of reflection before continuing his speech.

  “Each of your firms has highly lucrative contracts with this administration. All of you are doing an excellent job. Our Body Bank Laboratory is an unprecedented success. The prototype lab is ready to be expanded nationwide.”

  Rayne was listening intently to the President, but from time to time, he would steal a glance at Nicole Brenton. Sometimes during the speech, he saw her raising her left eyebrow. At other times, her forehead creased into an annoyed, yet still beautiful, frown. At other times, she seemed impassive as she stared at the President without emotion.

  “I am ready to renew your government contracts for next year,” the President continued, pausing to look at each member of his small audience. “But I need a favor from each of you. In order for your contracts to be renewed,
I need you each to make a commitment,” President Frump paused again to lock eyes with each person around the table. “This administration will have the legacy of introducing technological advances on a scale never before seen in human history. I offer you all a chance to share in that legacy. I’ve met with the Government Entrepreneurial Division and they agree that what I propose is possible and potentially very lucrative. At the present time, your companies have built successful medical technologies undreamed of by people in the past,” he paused. His voice turned somber. “But we’ve reached an impasse, a point of stagnation,” Frump paused again and began, more cheerfully, “In order to move beyond this impasse, this administration is going to create a new department; the Government Technology Division or GTD. The GTD is going to be a unique, government-run corporation in the business of making profits. I want each of you to sit on its Board of Directors.” President Frump paused again to let the information sink in.

  Rayne wasn’t sure how to react, so he maintained a calm facade. He glanced over at Ms. Brenton and saw she was wearing her patented beautiful frown. Her image was juxtaposed with Cadell who was smiling widely. He glanced to his right and saw Lydon also had an avaricious grin spread across his face.

  “As members of the Technology Division’s Board of Directors, you are each entitled to 20% of the profits earned by the GTD Corporation,” the President said. “The remaining 20% of the profits will go directly to the government’s Executive Branch. Each of us will hold an equal 20% share of the GTD’s stock options.”

  Rayne wasn’t sure if it was possible, but he actually saw the smile widen on Cadell’s face until he looked like a gray-haired Cheshire Cat. Glancing right, he saw Lydon grinning and leaning forward as if he expected a pile of money to fall onto the table in front of him. Only Ms. Brenton wore a frown. Rayne decided to remain impassive. He noticed Ms. Brenton glance, disdainfully, at Cadell and Lydon. Then, she looked directly at him. He met her gaze briefly and looked back at the President. Her expression of disdain softened when it fell on him. She looked like she wasn’t sure what to make of him.

  “The GTD has the potential to earn unprecedented profits,” President Frump continued. “But it will take a high level of commitment from each of you to do so. I am going to put the government’s top research scientists to work in the GTD. I expect each of you to do the same. The innovative part of the equation is that I want everyone working together. I want Cryotech researchers working side-by side with Cryogen researchers and Lydon Technologies working alongside Oriontech. This will be the most innovative research team ever gathered in human history. It will ensure this administration a legacy unmatched by any American President,” the President said, pausing again before continuing, “I would appreciate any feedback you could offer.”

  The table was silent for a moment as each member of the conference met eyes with the other members. Rayne kept his face impassive as Cadell and Lydon looked anxiously around the table to gauge the others’ reactions. Ms. Brenton maintained the small crease between her eyebrows.

  “I like the idea,” Cadell spoke first, with authority. “Of course, I’ll need my lawyers to examine the contract before I sign,” he added. “I will also need assurances that the government will not intervene in any of the activities of the Oriontech Corporation. I want that entity to be separate and independent from the government’s new Technological Division.

  “That’s a good point,” Frump replied. “My team has already drafted up a contract that has that provision written in bold print. Your current businesses are your own. All profits earned by your companies are your own. The only share the government will have of your companies’ profits are from taxes,” Frump added, smiling.

  Rayne smiled back because he thought it was appropriate.

  The President continued, “The only commitment we ask for is the cooperation of your top research scientists. Government money will provide all the necessary research facilities. There will be no capital investment commitment from any of you. All investments in the GTD will be initiated by the government. The only thing I ask for is your leadership.”

  “So basically, what you’re saying is you want to pick our brains,” Ms. Brenton interjected.

  “That’s an interesting way of putting it,” The President said, smiling charmingly at her.

  “You’re basically putting us on the Board of Directors so we will contribute our business’s intellectual property to the new government corporation,” Brenton said.

  “Yes, Ms. Brenton. That is the only commitment we ask for,” the President agreed.

  “Are we going to have the choice of what intellectual property we invest in the GTD and what intellectual property we will maintain the exclusive rights to?

  “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?”