Myra walked briskly behind Neurono-Tek’s bulldog-faced guard, Phil. Hearing that the president of The New Reality was coming to make a personal visit to Neurono-Tek, he insisted that he and his identical twin brother, Gil, personally accompany her at all times on the premises.
Myra felt safe walking between these two Goliath-sized men. Never one to depart from her Georgian headquarters without a personal small army accompanying her, she had the entire Neurono-Tek complex surrounded and closely monitored to ensure her personal safety.
She attempted to convey a concerned demeanor in order to act appropriately. Because the world and presumably Samantha still believed Alex to be missing, she needed to present herself in this manner in order to not draw suspicion. Inside, she burned with anger and terror. Just before landing at Neurono-Tek, Kevin informed her that a stratoskimmer was discovered leaving the Masjid project before it went nuclear.
The ISA was able to decipher faint quantum fluctuations and obtain a brief visual of the ship before its departure. She shuddered imagining that Jules and Alex might be in possession of the key and actively plotting the overthrow of The New Reality, but Myra had had enough practice through the years to hide her fears and hold her composure—this meeting was too important to miss.
“Madam President,” Phil said. “We have arrived at Dr. Samantha Mancini’s office.”
The door with ornate floral designs around it dematerialized in front of them. Both Phil and Gil turned without speaking and stood guard outside the office while Myra entered the room.
“How lovely and unexpected to have the honor of receiving you, Madam President,” Samantha said with a contrived sense of sincerity. She then stood from behind her desk and walked with right arm extended to greet her guest.
Filled with plants and other greenery, the entire office looked more like a garden than a place of work. She negotiated around red-edged dracaena and shook Myra’s hand as if they were the best of friends.
“Have a seat,” Samantha offered as the two then sat on opposing plush, Victorian-style chairs in the center of the office.
“I must first provide you my deepest condolences,” Myra said, reaching out her hand and taking Samantha’s. “We are doing everything in our power to find Alex Pella. The worry must be awful.”
Myra was certainly impressed with her own display of emotion and concern.
Samantha steadily nodded her hand, and with the greatest restraint she could muster responded, “Yes, it has been difficult. Alex is not only the CEO of our thriving company but is also like a brother to me.”
Samantha’s body tensed in anger. She hated Myra with every bit of her soul. She detested The New Reality’s draconian political policies and the worldwide police state that the woman had created.
“We’re planning to hold a candlelight vigil tonight outside his office building,” Samantha said, “hoping somehow our moral support might by some means bring him home alive.”
I’d like to bring him home, too—in a body bag, Myra mused.
“I bet you’re wondering why I paid you a visit,” she then said.
“The thought did cross my mind,” Samantha responded cordially, all the while surmising the reason for her arrival.
Before William’s departure, he briefly informed her and Marissa of Alex’s feigned death and plan to infiltrate The New Reality. Using quantum disruptors to disguise the conversation and their thoughts from the ISA, he went on to explain what had been transpiring.
“Well,” Myra said with an inappropriate cackle, “it has come to my attention that Alex might have received a certain package the day before he went missing.”
Samantha hated when someone attempted to play coy with her, no matter their intellect or status. The mere tone of the question insulted her. Through almost clenched teeth, she responded as lightheartedly as possible, “You mean the shipment of medical supplies for the children?” She feigned a smile. “Thank God that finally came. The fifth floor of the hospital was desperately awaiting their arrival.”
Myra knew Samantha’s response was not sincere, and even held a hint of mockery for her latest New Reality initiative for the children. The President then sat back in the chair, realizing that she now faced another formidable alpha female. “Wonderful,” she stated like a teenager overacting in a school play. “Though that is not the package I meant, it certainly warms my heart to hear such outstanding news.”
“I assume everything went well with the delivery,” Myra then added. Knowing that she personally overhauled the entire medical system and made the shipment of all health-related goods extremely time consuming and difficult in order to decrease expenses, Myra felt good returning the jab.
“Fortunately,” Samantha added, fluttering her eyes. “Only a few children were lost waiting. Don’t worry, they were too young and fragile to know what hit them anyway.”
Before Myra could add her rebuttal, Samantha quickly sat up in her chair. “Might I offer you a cup of tea? Where are my manners?”
Myra did not flinch. She wore her concrete smile and began again, “The package I was talking about I believe originated from Albert Rosenberg.”
“Ah yes,” Samantha said. “What a true loss to humanity with his passing. If I recall, Alex might have received a package from him, but I’m not aware of what it was.”
Samantha feigned thinking while tapping her chin. “He mentioned something,” she went on to say, pretending to contemplate.
Myra began to feel rage build up inside her. She had no doubt Samantha knew both the exact contents and whereabouts of the package. If it wouldn’t prove detrimental to her plan, she would have thrown Samantha in a NewREMA camp for reeducation.
“Ah, yes,” Samantha finally concluded. “There was this gold crown that came in the mail the other day.”
Myra immediately recognized the validity of Samantha’s answer. Besides the shield, Albert prized one particular gold crown more than any of his other pieces. Showcasing it next to the shield, the two were inseparable. “That sounds lovely,” she answered pleasantly. “As you may know, Albert Rosenberg was an avid collector of ancient antiquities.”
“Is that so?” Samantha said, acting interested. “I would’ve loved to see his collection.”
“Well,” Myra chimed in, feigning enthusiasm, “I must insist that you accompany me and my husband personally to the grand opening of Albert’s Greco-Roman antiquity museum next year.”
“I could think of nowhere else I’d rather be,” Samantha said with a smile. She knew this answer was even more contrived than the rest of them. There were few things in life she found less exciting than Greek or Roman history, especially when Alex droned on about the subject. In fact, being locked away in a NewREMA camp seemed more appealing than meandering through dusty artifacts with the likes of Myra.
“I’ll consider it a date,” Myra said, slapping her hands. “However, there’s just one problem.”
Samantha nodded her head with concern.
Myra went on to say, “I do believe that the late Albert Rosenberg may have sent Alex the crown accidentally. You must understand, the man was all but senile before his passing.”
“That’s a bit odd,” Samantha replied, calling Myra’s bluff. “Albert would’ve never struck me as being absent minded. In fact, Alex commented several times to me that he was as sharp as a tack even up to the last moment of his life.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe he just decided to bestow Alex with a gift. You know, he was like an uncle to him.”
Myra cleared her throat. She’d certainly had enough of Samantha’s glib answers and condescending statements. Instead, she produced another cackling laugh and said, “But wouldn’t it look lovely in the center of the museum for all to see and enjoy? It would be such a sin not to let the world enjoy its splendor instead of having this magnificent artifact sequestered for only a few to appreciate.”
Honestly, Samantha could care less what happened to the crown and would be more than happy to hand it over to her. She thought it looked gaudy anyway and wanted to melt it down for its gold if she had a chance. However, the posterior cingulate cortex accelerators were still attached to it, and she certainly did not want Myra to realize the significance of this gift.
“You know what I’ll do,” Samantha said, wanting to stall. “I will personally look for the crown, and when I find it, I’ll have Neurono-Tek’s head security guard deliver it to you himself.”
Myra stood and straightened her pantsuit. “Then I’ll be anxiously awaiting the delivery.” She realized that insisting on the crown now would be as futile as continuing their current conversation. Though completely annoyed by the discussion, she drew solace knowing that soon, she would make Samantha regret her disrespect.
Not one to leave without making an impression, Myra shook Samantha’s hand and said, “Not to alarm you but I understand how scared you must be right now, knowing your dear friend may not have survived the crash.”
“Well,” Samantha quipped, no longer able to hold her tongue. “If Alex has survived, I hope that doesn’t alarm you because you are the one who should be scared.” She sadistically smiled. “Very scared.”
Myra grabbed her hand with the other, attempting to quell the shiver of fright that ran down her back. The thought of Alex and Jules collaborating together was terrifying, and no matter how many WOGS or ISA agents currently searched for them, she felt none the safer. As fear crept though her body, she had no rebuttal. Instead, she turned and simply left the room without another word.