Betrayed: Book Five of the State Series

by M. J. Kaestli

  She reached the interrogation room; her mouth had gone completely dry as she sat down in front of the monitor. It flashed, then the blank screen switched on.

  “Hope, it has been quite some time.”

  “Yes.” She swallowed hard. “I recall fighting over military personnel the last time we spoke.” Even though she felt nausea could overtake her at any moment, she decided it was always good to open with a joke if she wanted to appear as though she had nothing to hide.

  A slight, dry laugh came through the monitor. “That is correct. You were opposed to having them in your workspace. You said they took up space and were a waste of oxygen. I remember telling you to put them to work, but you wouldn’t hear it.” He paused, giving a slight chuckle. “I thought for certain you would take advantage of their janitorial service offerings.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been afraid that if I gave them a mop, they would only get in our way.” She smiled to the monitor then continued. “I have learned to tolerate them and pretend they aren’t there, as has the rest of my team.”

  “I am aware. I don’t know if you paid much attention, but we have only had one meeting since their arrival.”

  “I haven’t been keeping track,” she lied. “I do know it has been an exceptional length of time since we last spoke, much longer than usual. I thought perhaps you were monitoring our tablets to check in on our progress, or our escorts had become your new resource for information.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I was actually a little surprised to be summoned now. I thought your new reporting system had replaced the need to speak to me.”

  A long pause came through the monitor. “If your team had produced results, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.”

  She nodded, biting her bottom lip. If she gave them too much information too quickly, it might appear as though she should have come forward with the information earlier. She had to create the illusion it pained her to admit defeat with the current failsafe project.

  “I can appreciate your stance. It has been a rather difficult task. I was expecting to be further along by this point in time.”

  “Hope, every single report from the military has one word in common: Diligent. They have assessed your team is being productive with their time, working as a team, and showing a great deal of innovation. Although the soldiers don’t understand the fine details of what you are doing, they recognize a consistency in your team’s commitment.”

  She squinted, looking at him sideways. “Yet you brought me in to question my team.”

  “No. I brought you in to question the project.”

  All coloring drained from her face. If they canceled her project now, she could face her own death.

  There was no retirement in the State.

  She did her best to sound concerned. “I thought the failsafe was a high priority to the State.”

  “I assure you, it is. We are simply asking if we are pushing in the right direction.”

  She cleared her throat, swallowing hard. “You wish to have me replaced as the project leader? Am I to take up a teaching position then?”

  “Don’t be so hasty. You are not here for interrogation; we are having a conversation. I am asking if we are not getting results because the task we gave you is impossible.”

  She gave a deep sigh. It was time to come clean, even though every part of her screamed not to. It was so simple the State had overlooked it.

  If she didn’t present a viable plan, she could very well be removed from this project, or any future project. If she shared the plans she found viable, the dome would be quickly secured. It was imperative she displayed innovation without exposing disloyalty by remaining silent for all these years.

  “After spending 16 years as team lead, I must agree with you. In all this time, we have not found a suitable material, nor anything remotely close. I believe there is a simpler solution, or at least a different one. I am no longer confident we can create the kind of material the State requested of us.”

  A clicking sound indicated they shut her out of the conversation. All this time, it had not been just the two of them conversing. Although it didn’t surprise her, it infuriated her there had been someone else listening in unannounced.

  Has there always been more than one? Was this conversation more in alignment with a trial than a meeting?

  The clicking sound registered again and Hope readied herself. “Are you saying strengthening the dome will be impossible?”

  Hope swallowed hard. If she answered affirmatively, she would be dead by morning. A replacement would be found—if they didn’t already have one—and the project to strengthen the dome would go on without her.

  She knew this was a matter of life or death. Either they kept her as the project manager, or they would kill her. Self-preservation pushed her to speak the words she concealed for so many years.

  “I do believe the dome can be strengthened, just not the way the State requested. I don’t believe an inflatable failsafe is possible. Not now. Not ever. I do, however, think the glass could be strengthened.”

  “You can create another layer which will guarantee the glass will be protected from any potential threats?”

  Hope gave a half laugh. “No. I can’t. No one can.” She shook her head. “No one can make this place impervious to a threat. All I can do is improve the odds of it holding together in the face of a greater threat.”

  “How great of a threat?”

  Hope winced. “I don’t know. There is nothing that could protect us from a meteor strike, even if your failsafe concept would have worked. I think I can make it strong enough to withstand a significant impact. I do have to work within the limitations of allowing enough sunlight to pass through the glass.”

  The monitor clicked again; her forehead glistened. She focused on keeping her breathing even and steady. It felt like eons before the monitor clicked again.

  “You will be notified the next time I wish to speak with you. Your team will begin working towards strengthening the dome structure: immediately.”

  She felt as though the pit of her stomach dropped to the floor. “Understood.”

  The blank screen switched off, leaving a dark reflection of her face staring back at her. Tomorrow her team would begin a new project. She just wished she knew if she would still be alive to lead that team.

  Chapter 14

  Victor

  Victor scrolled down on his tablet. It was difficult to find entertainment for himself during his free day, yet he couldn’t stomach another puzzle. He had done a few preliminary interviews with the current Head of State for show, even though the results were set before the High Council approached Victor. As he had nothing more to prepare for, the electoral process had left him with more time on his hands than he knew what to do with.

  He considered working extra hours on the State House grounds to fill his time, but the High Council had cautioned him against leaving himself vulnerable to an attack. Although he knew his predecessor was no match for him, it was imperative he allowed the High Council to be in complete control of this operation. They oversaw the master plan, and he wanted to ensure he helped to facilitate that plan, rather than to be an obstacle they needed to work through.

  When he stepped into his new identity as a State House gardener, they instructed him to slim down his muscular physique. As military personnel commonly were, his body was too sculpted to blend in properly with a State House worker. When any soldier started a mission with the purpose of spying, they were usually placed in a demanding manual labor duty as a suitable cover for their shape and size.

  As a groundskeeper, his size wasn’t too far off its mark, but for a Head of State, his body would need to shrink. His requirement for physical activity was greatly diminished, limiting him to cardiovascular activity and stretching.

  With such a limiting physical activity routine and being cut off from the firing range all but once a week, boredom plagued him. All the cogs and gears were turning as they must, b
ut only time could deliver the results. It was excruciatingly slow and painful. He rose every morning hoping to find a message stating it was time to kill the Head of State.

  As military personnel needed to keep their cover—not just for those around them, but Security as well—he couldn’t do the one thing he most longed for. His greatest impulse was to service his firearm each day, a luxury independent living wouldn’t allow.

  He had an overwhelming desire to continually take it apart to ensure each moving part was functioning at its full potential. He knew his gun was working well enough without such maintenance to handle a simple shot at close range, yet deep in his soul, he wanted the Head of State’s assassination to be perfect.

  Victor spent his free-time daydreaming about every facet of the looming execution. What will the Head of State’s face look like when I kill him? Will he try to fight? Or will he sit idly by and smile in the face of death? Will he try to bargain for his life? As the Head of State had enough nerve to confront me, I suspect he will try to put up a fight. I hope we have a hand-to-hand fight. It will be much more satisfying to feel the vibration of his breaking neck reverberate through my hands and up my arms.

  He constructed a new fantasy each day. Some days he envisioned dragging the man into the military underground, electrocuting him for hours before slitting his throat. His most common fantasy was simply walking in and putting a bullet right between his eyes without a single word exchanged yet, he also wanted to see the Head of State begging for his life like the coward he was.

  Regardless of how he performed this honorable duty, the end was coming, and he couldn’t be happier.

  A sudden flashing light from his monitor brought him back to reality. He rose from the sofa and activated the monitor.

  Victor 590,

  Your immediate presence is required at the State House. Please report in.

  Regards,

  The State

  He looked at the monitor, stunned. Without hesitation, he left his apartment. His mind was spinning as he set off in the underground walkway at a light jog. It was a fair distance to travel between independent living and the State House, and he didn’t want to postpone this event which had consumed his mind all these years.

  During his journey, not even the endorphins from his run were enough to clear his mind.

  If it’s time for me to kill the Head of State, why would the Council see fit to alert me through Security? They could have notified me to stay late one evening after my duty, it would look less conspicuous. I’m being formally called in on my free day, how will they create an alibi tight enough that I can still take his seat?

  It made little sense.

  I’m missing something. The High Council hasn’t let me in on all their plans.

  He continually worked to calm his mind, to remind himself that the Council has an appropriate plan in place. He just needed to trust that plan.

  They wouldn’t call me in if they didn’t have a plan of execution.

  Victor arrived at the State House, beads of sweat glistening all along his skin. The moment he reached the large open living space, Westly, the Head of Security walked towards him.

  “Ah, Victor. You got here fast.” He looked him up and down. “You must have run. I will order you some water.” He gestured off to the side of him. “Right this way.”

  Victor nodded and followed him. He kept his jaw tightly closed, refraining from asking questions. This was not at all what he had expected. The way the Head of Security greeted him so casually, showing concern for his needs. The fact there was someone available to greet him at all was a shock.

  Is the Council above the law? The Head of Security can witness an execution with no repercussions.

  Even more surprising, he led him into the Head of State’s office.

  “Victor, take a seat.” He gestured to the desk.

  Victor did a triple take of the desk and Head of Security.

  “You must be joking. I can’t possibly sit there; it’s not my place. I am more than happy to sit beside you in the Head of State’s absence.”

  He shook his head. “You will have to get used to this seat, eventually.”

  Victor rolled his eyes, feigning humility. “Sir, I am merely in the running. I have not been selected, and if I receive such an honor, it could be a long way off. I believe our Head of State is in perfect health and could continue for a fair length of time.”

  “He was in good health.” Westly interjected. “Now this seat belongs to you.”

  Victor looked at him, his head hanging to the side, eyes squinted. There was no show or trickery in his confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  The Head of Security’s lips curled into a soft smile. “The Head of State passed away last night; he was found this morning. I instructed my team to summon you as a safety protocol to ensure your security as a candidate, but by the time you got here, the High Council had unanimously decided. Victor, you are now the Head of State, sir.”

  His jaw hung open as his mind spun.

  But I was supposed to kill him.

  It was possibly his last chance to taste blood in his lifetime. This man had been found unworthy of his calling, and Victor had longed to be the one who brought about justice.

  “What happened? He seemed fine.” Victor leaned against the large oak desk.

  “He was. A disgruntled military officer came up through the apartment access and killed him.”

  “Disgruntled military personnel? How could such a thing happen? Was he in regular contact with them? Was this a personal grudge?”

  He shrugged. “The military handles these types of investigations. I came in to greet you and congratulate you on your new position as our leader. I look forward to serving you.” He gave a slight bow and left the room.

  Victor sat and looked around the office. He had no idea what to do with himself. He didn’t wait for long before the monitor on the wall flashed. He activated the remote and folded his hands.

  “Ah, I see you have made it to your rightful home.” The voice was familiar as he had been dealing with her while under cover. “Congratulations are in order.”

  Victor nodded to her. “Thank you. I must admit, I was rather surprised. Honestly, I still am.”

  She gave a half laugh. “Yes, you revealed that you expected to be his executioner. That is what I had planned initially, but once you told me of his behavior towards you, I knew I needed another plan. I was concerned he would expect it and fight you, possibly incapacitating you. I couldn’t risk you showing signs of a struggle, even if you came out unharmed.”

  Although it did nothing to ease his disappointment, he could see her logic and agreed she had made a wise choice. “I see. It is not what I was expecting, but true to form, I see the deep wisdom of the High Council.”

  “Good. There are a few matters we need to discuss, and then your administrator will come in to reset the electronics in the office for your command.”

  Victor nodded. “Wonderful.”

  “The first matter at hand, I need to ensure that you are not only aware, but fully accepting of your role. You will work as a figurehead of the High Council to the people until the High Council deems it the appropriate time to have you replaced.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I do believe I have already displayed my understanding of this role.” A slight chuckle escaped his lips. “Although you will not need to send an assassin for me. I will knowingly and gladly take a pill before I go to sleep the very night the High Council deems it my time to retire.”

  “Yes, we are aware of your great devotion to us. This quality is a facet in your selection. We have something special in mind, during your term.”

  “Oh?” He leaned forward on his desk. “How intriguing.”

  “I’m afraid your death will not be a simple pill in the night, nor will your death be something you sit back and wait for. It will, however, be another part of our greater plan.”

  Electricity radiated through his body. Althoug
h becoming the Head of State was the greatest honor, he was hungry for a good conspiracy from the High Council. “I will play my part willingly.”

  “Good. I’m afraid it is time to deal with the rebellion once again.”

  “The rebellion? What do we normally do beyond monitoring and executing those found disloyal to us?”

  “That is a proverbial bandage. It helps to control our people when they are afraid, but far too many use that form of control to fuel their rage, making the rebellion fight harder. We have found that every fifth or sixth generation, we need to take a more aggressive action.”

  His mouth started watering. He licked his lips and held her gaze. “Pray tell. What is this aggressive action you speak of?”