The elevator dings and several of us shuffle around the human pylons, spilling into the hallway. An unusual magnetism draws my attention to Jan awaiting my arrival on a boxy leather sofa, the type of modern furniture that says “We want you to feel at home” but fails to deliver on its claim. As we make eye contact, she lifts herself weightlessly from the seat. Her hands smooth the ripples from her dark gray pant legs and she moves to greet me.
“Jan, I hope you weren’t waiting long. I made sure to be here early.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long,” she notes tranquilly.
Jan dissects me with her famously intense eye contact. Most people can’t handle such prolonged engagement, but she feeds off it. It establishes her dominion over those she meets by assuring them that she’s supremely confident, indomitable even, and I like that spirit. Amongst her circle of monumental men and women, I’ve seen this result in more than one impromptu staring contest. In those battles of will, many legendary men have attempted to silently force her submission before averting their gaze in red-faced defeat.
“Let’s talk,” she says as she walks briskly through my bubble and toward her office.
I follow the mesmerizing mirage of her slinky strides reflecting off the spotless white tiles. Each step forward could be one closer to my death, and yet I care not. A pied piper of sorts, Jan’s mysterious charisma has attracted a fiercely loyal flock who can’t hope to understand the subliminal forces that leave them spellbound. People believe in her, follow her, and work hard to please her; in many ways, this is a strong model for the relationship I could someday have with humanity.
Stretching my gate, I catch up to Jan and walk by her side. What I need is an interrogation—an opportunity to shine a light in her face and ask all my questions. I need to read her without distraction as she responds. As much as I’d love to dive into such a conversation, if I move too quickly it could spook her, and then she’ll be of no use to me. First, I need to earn her trust.
“I’m interested to hear your take on maximizing my potential and expanding my influence,” I offer to both initiate and direct the conversation. Flattery, in moderation, is an effective catalyst for trust, and I am genuinely curious about her thoughts.
“Ted, let’s just wait until we reach my office. We can’t have a meaningful conversation while we’re speed-walking down a crowded hall. Besides, there’s something else we need to discuss first, privately,” Jan gently corrects.
“Alright. I can wait,” I reply, intrigued.
Eleven steps later, we enter her corner office. The sun is at just the right angle to reflect off the windows of the adjacent building in a blinding array of orange and yellow. Jan presses a control panel button on her desk, lowering motorized window shades. A linear darkness cuts across the room and wipes down the walls, erasing our shadows inch by inch before meeting the floor. Vertical glints of sunlight peek around the edges of the shades but dissolve when Jan turns on the bright overhead lights. She presses another button that instantly frosts the clear glass doors and walls of her office.
“Please sit, Ted.”
I lower myself into one of the sleek black-leather chairs and set my briefcase on the floor between my feet. It won’t leave my sight until I find another suitable location for the seed. Jan takes a seat in the chair next to mine. As I raise my gaze back to her, I’m greeted by a pleasant smile. I’ve heard rumors of its existence but have never seen it before. It’s actually delightful.
“I wanted to start the day with an informal conversation. A lot has been going on here lately and if we’re going to partner up, we need to clear the air and find a way to understand each other. I need you to see exactly what we’re up against.”
Sounds like I’m about to get my interrogation after all.
I adjust my position in the chair and lean into the space between us before replying, “That sounds like the perfect way to kick off this relationship. I have plenty of questions that need answering.”
“Good. I’m glad you agree and I’m eager to answer your questions and bring you up to speed on our dilemma,” she says, subtly reiterating our unavoidable union. “First, though, I have a question for you. The document that Dave asked you to sign, did you sign it?”
After a beat of anger, I draw a deep, cleansing breath and respond with resolve.
“No and I will never sign it,” I declare while burning holes through her skull with my fiery eye contact.
Jan chuckles playfully at my intensity. “Look at you…so serious all the time. I’m glad you didn’t sign it. I told Dave not to do that but he was too eager to be a good soldier and cover his ass with this whole drug trial thing that he ignored my direction. That report wasn’t my idea, but it made for an excellent test of your trustworthiness. You just gave the perfect response.”
Her lighthearted demeanor is making it difficult to analyze her honesty. Joking can very effectively disguise lies. In fact, liars often claim that they were only joking when caught in a lie, and people believe them. Many forms of humor require some level of deception, and the speaker’s body language and tone of voice are usually more of an act than a reflection of their genuine state of mind.
“Interesting, but Dave’s version of events was quite different. He said it was you and the board of directors that were forcing him into that position. He was very convincing,” I rebut as I remember his earnestness at The Downspout.
“Of course he would say that, Ted. You’re an imposing figure and you were confronting him about criminal behavior. People will lie every time in such a situation.”
“Jan, I have…a knack for discerning when people are lying. You could almost say that I can read them like a book. Dave didn’t display any of his tells last night and he spoke with conviction,” I assert as I interlock my fingers and prop my elbows on the chair’s armrests.
I watch closely as Jan takes a moment to contemplate my words. Her gaze drops to the floor and her head shakes slightly from side to side. The results of this deliberation could end up being a genuine explanation of how her and Dave’s versions of truth could coexist, or it could be calculated misdirection. She meets my gaze with a look of staid vulnerability.
“Maybe he was telling the truth that someone pressured him to falsify the report, but it wasn’t me. I’ve been at odds with the board about how to handle the Fosillix situation, and it’s entirely possible they cut me out of the loop and told him to blame me. Either way, I think I would remember telling him to falsify a report, and I don’t,” she asserts vigorously. “Besides, you weren’t even the quality assurance department head at the time of the drug trial. That would’ve been sniffed out during an investigation anyway. It was an idiotic plan.”
Even in the absence of playfulness, Jan’s words are still believable. But through the murkiness of Pentastar’s ambiance, my extraordinary relationship with truth is still unable to confirm or deny her statement’s veracity. The dynamic between truth and lies is uniquely absolute. Truth exists only in the complete absence of lies. There are varying degrees of dishonesty ranging from fibs to total falsehoods, but there is only one degree of truth. Something cannot be mostly true. It is either wholly truth or it is, to some degree, a lie.
If not for the nuance of individual perception, the discussion of truth and lies would stop there. Unfortunately, each person views events from a limited vantage that creates an incomplete understanding. Each unique interpretation of events further diminishes the universality of truth. This is why it’s vital to process the speaker’s personal conviction in their words. One who says something untrue is not necessarily a liar if they sincerely believe it to be true. Jan’s message clashes with my data, but her bearing, tone, and posture are telling me she believes what she’s saying. If I detect even an inkling of wavering belief, then the message has become a lie.
“Let’s say I believe that you aren’t the driving force behind Pentastar’s culture; how do you think the drug trial’s aftermath should be handled?”
I look at Jan Lucero through my skeptical brow. The predator at the top of the food chain who prowls these halls and strikes fear in the hearts of all says she’s little more than a figurehead. Not many CEOs would so freely acknowledge their own impotence. It requires tremendous humility and a healthy dose of desperation, both of which are apparent in Jan. Though I can’t wholeheartedly trust her yet, the desperation that I’m sensing will make her more pliable and, therefore, useful. Either way, we agree on one thing: whoever is responsible for this avoidable tragedy must be held accountable. No matter who it is, I will look into their eyes as they face the reckoning they deserve.
“Are you saying you didn’t order the drug trial to proceed or are you saying that you did, but you were provided with bad information?”
“I didn’t order the drug trial, Ted. The data showed a high rate of dangerous interactions with some very common drugs and harmful side effects for patients with common, minor health conditions. The drug wasn’t ready.”
I turn to clear my head, breaking from the exchange. Floating blobs of color bounce along on the other side of the frosted glass. Indistinct voices vibrate through the walls and heels clack against the hallway floor. Straight across the hall sits Jan’s secretary answering the ringing phone. Jan’s words don’t feel calculated, but they’re exactly what I’d need to hear to join her cause.
“Why didn’t you stop the trial when you found out they went behind your back?” I ask pointedly.
“When I found out that they were proceeding with the trial I was livid, but stopping it would have cost me my job and drawn a lot of unwanted attention from the FDA. I probably should’ve resigned immediately to punish the board for their overreach. If I had, I also would have avoided this mess, but I still believe in this drug’s potential to help suffering people. There’s time to get the formula right, and I don’t want to give up on all our work here, especially with the price that’s already been paid.”
Jan’s passionate response offers some appeasing concessions about her handling of the situation and also touches on the same noble themes as Dave’s. Both claimed some level of victimhood while professing their desire to contribute to the greater good. Either they’re working from the same playbook or people in their position all tell themselves the same lies.
“So, do you know who, specifically, is puppeteering the company?”
“The board, in general, has usurped my authority, but I suspect only a few specific directors are pushing their agenda through submissive pawns like Dave and Joel. It’s unclear if they’re acting under the direction of the shareholders I mentioned. We need to deal with the board first. Once the board stops interfering, we’ll have control of the company again, but we may still be under fire from the shareholders.”
“I appreciate your candor, Jan, but everything I’ve seen and heard about the drug trial paints a pretty ugly picture of Pentastar and of you, in particular.”
“What happened with the drug trial was sickening. Many of us have been carrying a weight ever since and I’ve been looking for a way to make those responsible pay for their crimes, but they’ve been covering their tracks and setting up others to take the fall. They had you in their crosshairs. That’s why they sent Dave with the false report. I’m definitely in their crosshairs too; who better to take the fall than the CEO? They’ve had their minions drop my name with every dirty deed.”
“It seems to be working. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ve definitely thought of you as a ruthless profiteer,” I concede.
Jan’s shoulders hang heavily. Her downtrodden gaze drifts away. “That’s why I need your help, Ted. I can’t win this fight without you. There are some truly evil, deceitful people calling the shots here. They make the rules, and they’re writing their own version of history. The only reason I haven’t been fired is because they want to pin everything on me so it’s my neck that ends up in the guillotine.”
“Why don’t you just resign now?”
“It’s too late for me to resign. If I quit now, they’ll just tell whatever lies and forge whatever documents they need to absolve themselves and shift the blame to me, you, and numerous other innocent employees. I’m the only one holding the truth together, I mean, whatever is left of it.”
Holding the truth together.
Those enchanting words are exactly what I needed to hear. Anyone could say them, but everything I’m sensing in Jan tells me that she’s sincere. Beyond that, she knows by reputation that my integrity is incorruptible. If she is the source of Pentastar’s wickedness, asking me to help would only increase her likelihood of exposure and worsen her situation.
An excited shiver races up my spine. The idea of maneuvering her as an ally in this operation, even a human one, multiplies my hope. I have never appreciated companionship, perhaps because I have never found a worthy companion. Humans are weak and corrupt and the few Nephilim I have met are reclusive like me. We often use our innate ability to read others as a tool to ensure our own privacy. We stay hidden even from our own kind.
“You’re not the only one here who’s fighting for truth. I take great pleasure in tearing down the lies that most people hide behind. My work here gives me an opportunity to man the front lines in this war. I’m already actively working against the corruption in this company.”
“Is that why you were talking to Joel and Dave before they died?” she asks.
Carefully, I reply, “Yes, I confronted them about their part in all this. Rather than do the right thing, they killed themselves.”
“It was honorable of you to try to get through to them,” she commends with a comforting look. “Men like them aren’t interested in denying themselves and becoming better people. We’re a rare minority, Ted. I can’t right this ship alone.”
“As long as righting the ship means bringing to justice those responsible for all this, then I want to help,” I reply while prodding her for confirmation with my eyes.
“I’m so glad to hear that and, yes, that’s what I mean by righting the ship,” Jan says through a beaming smile. “When you refused to sign that report I knew I could trust you with what’s been going on around here.”
She looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Her already-high cheeks squeeze her almond eyes to slivers and her body language is relaxed and unguarded. The longer we talk, the more her integrity and warmth cut through the dense atmosphere.
The possibility of having an ally in this fight has me giddy too. I am elated to have found a worthy knight to complement my queen: educated and intelligent, fierce and powerful, and passionate about fixing this company. This exuberance, unexpected and uncontrollable, opens my eyes to how deeply I’ve longed for this moment. It’s doubtful that this reaction is even a credit to Jan as much as it is a release of my bottled-up loneliness. I must be careful to prevent these emotions from influencing my plans for her. She is first and foremost a pivotal piece in a cosmic chess match whose purpose is to be useful in executing my strategy. Any other roles she could fulfill are subordinate to the first. In many ways, Jan isn’t even the ideal accomplice. She’s too close to the situation and has yet to earn my complete trust. But, at the very least, her education as a lawyer makes her a terrific defense against the human legal system.
Jan will be the high-powered attorney who protects the vigilante from entanglement in the web of human “justice” while also using her formal authority at Pentastar to aid my investigation and targeting. Between the two of us we may actually have a chance to complete this mission and leave Pentastar in capable and trustworthy hands
. Once the dust has settled, she will rebuild and restore Pentastar to the lifesaving glory it once enjoyed.
“Ted, there’s a board meeting in two days. I’d really like for you to be there. If nothing else, you can be a fly on the wall…see for yourself how corrupt they’ve become. In the meantime, I’d like to brainstorm tactics with you. We need a long-term game plan, but if there’s an opportunity to act quickly, I’d hate to see it go to waste.”
Great, she’s already trying to take charge. I’ll fix that soon enough.
“Dragging this out will only bolster the board’s position and increase the chances that we take the fall. I’m prepared to act as soon as we know who’s responsible, and I’m eager to put this whole situation in the rearview mirror and move on as soon as possible,” I assure, although she can’t know exactly what I mean.
Jan and I spend the next several hours discussing the Pentastar Board of Directors and our ideas for righting the ship and restoring the Fosillix trial participants. Occasionally a word or phrase brings some small talk about ourselves or our past, and by the time I head back to my office for the afternoon, I not only feel like I know Jan quite well, but that I actually like her. I never thought I’d be able say that about a human.
I log into my computer to review some of my departmental responsibilities. Each day my employees observe the members of the production and maintenance teams performing tasks to ensure that they’re following safety and procedural protocol and that product quality meets regulated standards. Their reports are entered into a database and reviewed by auditors who compile the data into a daily rundown that I am expected to know inside and out. If ever a divine guardian of truth is to be relegated to a desk, this job is a suitable alternative. Holding people accountable to these rules and standards is similar enough to holding them accountable to the truth.
Still, I can’t release my mind from the fantasy of a rehabilitated Pentastar long enough to concentrate on my work. A hunger grows in the pit of my stomach. It bubbles and growls with ravenous desire to see the shimmering rouge seed put evil on its back. As I stare blankly at my monitor, I imagine the approaching confrontation with the board of directors.
Verity Rising (Gods of Deceit Book 1) Page 10