Once back in the States, Sean later obtained a law degree from Northwestern University. He was now a managing partner at one of the largest law firms in the country. Not bad for a young rebel who almost didn’t finish high school.
The elevator beeped for the fifty-fourth time and without waiting, Sean exited just as the doors opened. His eyes never left his smartphone as he walked five steps forward, twelve to the left through the glass doors, fifty-three to the right to his corner office. This was Chiyva’s way, efficiency without errors. This was how Sean escaped the prison, how he reached the pinnacle of society, and how he became one of the leading senior Genjix in the world.
Sean tore his gaze from his work long enough to wink at his secretary as she handed him a stack of documents, never slowing his pace as he proceeded into his office. She grabbed her notebook and followed. Sean hated pen and paper note-taking. It was slow, clumsy, and inaccurate. Meredith had never made the transition to a computer like the rest of civilization. However, her tenure and loyalty to him were indispensable. It would take years to train a new secretary to her level of knowledge of his work.
She also knew about the Genjix and the true nature of their mission. Sean had a level of trust with her that he could never risk replacing. Therefore, he resigned himself to her slow note-taking. He hung his jacket, sat in his chair, and logged onto his computer, listening to her updates as she rambled down the list.
“…and your 3 o’clock has been pushed back to Tuesday,” she was saying. “Your sister’s birthday is next week. I went ahead and ordered a bouquet of flowers and a card. Do you want to order new winter tires for her? It’s been a brutal winter. Your junior associate needs to meet to discuss the Burton merger due diligence. I blocked Wednesday at 10 o’clock for that. You have a meeting with the CEO of Engras Enterprise at 2 o’clock to discuss the government contract for military equipment. And Devin Watson called and requested you contact him at your convenience.”
Sean raised an eyebrow at the last name mentioned. He thought through his responses, giving each their proper due, before turning to Meredith and dictating in rapid succession as she scribbled in her notebook. “Ask the CEO of Engras – Nick, isn’t it? – to move our meeting to 7 o’clock over drinks at the Palmer House, and order a bottle of the ‘93 Cheval Blanc he likes. See if you can get some run-flat tires this time instead of that garbage you ordered two years ago. Also, block out the rest of my afternoon.” He hid his rising irritation as she frantically tried to keep up.
“Is there anything else?” she asked when she caught up.
“A cup of coffee in fifteen minutes.” And then he waved her off.
Sean waited until she closed the door behind her and then pushed a button under his desk. The room began to hum with a deep resonating modulation. The resonance would block any listening devices aimed toward his office. Sean was sure there were no Prophus spies working at the firm, but one could never be too careful. The humming increased in pitch until eventually, he heard nothing. Satisfied, Sean turned on his video phone and called Devin. After three rings, Devin’s face appeared on the screen.
“Brother Sean. Chiyva.”
“Father.”
Devin Watson was an elderly man with a full head of white hair and a long trimmed beard. His face was weathered and scarred from years of battle and conflict, but his eyes shined with wisdom and fanatical devotion. He was also the hemisphere’s senior Councilman and one of Sean’s few direct superiors. His Holy One, Zoras, was a dominant Genjix who had occupied some of the most powerful and influential individuals in history. And to the Genjix, that equated to rank and seniority.
“Did we receive a response from the mayor?” Devin lit a cigar and puffed on it.
“I’m afraid so.” Sean leaned toward the screen. “He can’t convince the city council or the state legislature to allow us to build an offshore platform on Lake Michigan, at least not one with our security requirements. Even with his influence, there are too many questions being raised about the general purpose, and our geological research scenario is being challenged by the environmentalists.”
Devin grimaced and took another puff. “This will hinder our manufacturing operations in the Midwest. You need to go back and remind the mayor who put him in office.”
Tell him the alternative.
“There may be another solution,” Sean suggested carefully. “The mayor has always been a friend and grateful for our contributions. He has offered, as an alternative, the use of land just east of Northerly Island.”
Devin frowned, took another puff of the cigar, and looked off the screen, presumably at a map. “Underwater?”
“Exactly, Father,” Sean continued. “We take the operation twenty meters underwater off the coast. The mayor has offered the option to build the facility there and connect it to the surface through underground tunnels. Airborne operations can occur at night, and the mayor has assured me that we will not require an audit from the municipal or state government. Basically, everything we need, just not as we had initially planned.”
“And the cost?” With Devin, it always came down to cost.
Sean pulled up a file on his computer and scanned through its contents. Satisfied, he turned back toward the screen and smiled. “I just sent you the summary information. The costs are well within the original parameters, maybe two to three per cent higher, due to the need to drill underwater, but not more than five. The short term costs will be higher because of the underwater construction, but we will save in the long run because we will not need to mask the facility from the public.”
“Excellent. I’ll review these numbers and get back to you. Good work, Sean. I’ll expect a project timeline this week. Make sure the critical path does not extend past eighteen months. I expect to go into mass production within eighteen months.”
“Of course, Father. Is there anything else?”
Devin took another deep puff. The smoke was so thick that it obscured the screen. Sean wondered if the old man was trying to kill himself with all those cigars. Or was it his Holy One?
Do not think sacrilegiously.
“Apologies, Chiyva, I meant no disrespect.”
“Yes.” Devin leaned closer to the screen. “What is the status with the break-in at the research base? How does it affect us?”
Sean shrugged. “They know of the program now. As to whether they know what it is designed for? I’m sure they will discern it in time. They were only able to infiltrate our archives. The stolen blueprints were from an earlier failed design; it is a complete dead end, but will occupy them for a year or two before they realize that. We lost one vessel to the Eternal Sea, Yrrika, and we gained a defector. They lost Edward Blair.”
“Blair, huh. They must have wanted the blueprints badly to send him. And Tao?”
“Escaped, but we have some strong leads on his new vessel. I have a briefing with the kill team momentarily, as a matter of fact.”
Devin scowled. “That’s too many resources to expend on a new vessel. You should be focusing your efforts on a Class A target like Haewon operating in your area. Tao’s nothing more than a thorn in the side.”
“It’s Tao,” Sean replied flatly. “Chiyva wills it, I obey.”
“As you should always obey, Sean.” Devin chuckled. “But don’t let Chiyva’s grudges dictate your priorities, Sean.”
“I am only the instrument of the Holy Ones,” Sean replied. “Haewon’s trail has grown cold anyway. She hasn’t been on radar since the Katrina cover-up.”