Artemis: The Collective - Ch 3: Legacy

Chapter 3: Legacy

The deep rhythmic whooshing of the Hughes MD 700 Defender helicopter was hypnotizing as Ronald looked out the window. The coastal compound of the man on the other end of extension nine; Paul North, was just coming into view as they descended toward the coastline. Paul North is a United States congressman, and one of the founding members of the Elite social group 'Legacy'. This small group is comprised of the top one percent of the Elite populations around the world. The Elite of the Elite if you will, these are the ones that have the most money, power, and social influence. Legacy makes up over sixty percent of the funding for Citizen-voice, and they are of course the ones pulling the strings on all major decisions around the globe. Legacy is the group that came up with 'Renewal objective 1', and the group has been funding their pet project for about five years now.

The chopper made a quick turn and started its landing onto the helipad atop the enormous castle like Estate house. Ronald felt a large lump develop in his throat. He reached for his bottle of water, and took a giant careless drink causing some water to spill from the edges of his mouth. He had good reason to be nervous, the past few days have been anything but kind to him already, and he is about to meet with a group of people that could wink and have him erased from the history books. The helicopter landed with a thud dead center on the helipad circle, and the pilot announced their arrival. "Fort Legacy, hop out sir, and watch your head." Ronald slowly opened the door and stepped out, ducking as he cleared the blades. He feared this may be the last time he would see the outside world, so he took a deep breath of the sea air before making his way to the door leading inside. There at the door stood a tall man in a black suit looking like a secret service agent, and for all Ronald knew he was one.

"Good evening Mr. Lomax." The guard said in a deep authoritative tone. "Hello..." Ronald acknowledged. The man pressed the digits for the door code and the door unlatched with a click followed by two high pitched beeps. "Head down the stairs then go right at the landing this will take you to the main sitting room. They are waiting for you sir." The guard said as he pointed to the bottom of the stairs. Ronald headed in the door and down the stairs, his heart beating as fast as a chipmunk heart, so fast in fact he almost felt ill from the stress. His condition worsened as he approached the bottom of the stairs. He had been in very high profile cases. He was held under mass media scrutiny over bills and legislation. He even tried dozens of intense criminal trials, but he had never felt so uncertain of his own future.

Ronald knew all he needed to know about the Elite's; especially the group Legacy. There is only one reason a group of the top one percent, of the top one percent, of the world's most wealthy and powerful people is even created. That is to make sure they get what they want, and to quickly and collectively eliminate any threat to reason number one. As he reached the final step and turned down the hall towards the sitting room he could hear people talking and laughing. Time seemed to slow to a trickle, and the voices became distorted almost beginning to sound demonic. He felt as if he was walking in place yet the doorway to the sitting room at the end of the hall appeared to be growing larger, almost pulling him toward it like a tractor beam. When he finally got to the doorway he was sweating like a liar on the stand, and his stomach was flopping back and forth like a frustrated insomniac trying to sleep. He took a very deep breath and exhaled, bracing himself against the frame of the doorway. This managed to make him feel slightly better for a moment, but he still felt like throwing up as he entered the room. "Well, if it isn't Ronald Lomax! Welcome, welcome please come in and have a seat." Claire Dorn said hospitably. Claire Dorn is one of the most powerful people in the world; not just most powerful women. In the woman category she has no monetary or social status competition. She is the mother of Amy Dorn and Jonathan Dorn, both children coming from her third marriage to billionaire car dealer George Dorn III "Hello Claire, thank you." Ronald said choking down the lump in his throat. "Can I get you anything dear you look peeked?" She asked concernedly.

"Yes please a scotch on the rocks would be great." Ronald replied, as he sat and brushed the wrinkles from his pants, let out a relieving sigh, and placed his hands on his knees rubbing them nervously. "It's just the helicopter ride you know... I am a nervous flier." He said with a timid chuckle. Claire didn't even respond, rather she just looked at him with her rare cut shining emerald green eyes and smiled a big over produced smile as she signaled the server. She ordered Ronald a glen Livet on the rocks and herself a Manhattan, then took a seat directly across from him on the matching sofa. When Claire sat she did so almost as a production, flattening her dress in back, siting straight down oozing femininity, and crossing her legs with the elegance expected of a wealthy woman of power. "How have you been Ronald?" she asked. Ronald looked at her for a few seconds before answering.

He was trying to decipher what judgment she was making with the look on her face, and at the same time thinking about how if he had the opportunity he would definitely want to sleep with her. She was very attractive for a fifty something mother of two no doubt. The drinks arrived just in time to save him from getting aroused at a very inopportune moment. The server placed the drinks on the table in front of them and quickly backed away like a trained chimp. "Claire, I have been better... I certainly have been better." He lamented while enjoying the first refreshing sip of his scotch. Claire took a sip of her Manhattan and smiled at him. "Well these are trying times are they not. I believe we have all been better wouldn't you say?" She replied.

The two shared a silent moment as they nodded in undeniable agreement. It was then the other voices that Ronald heard while making his way down the hall, all started to draw closer and the nerves he felt earlier rapidly bubbled back to the surface. He quickly downed the remaining scotch and raised his finger to signal the server that he was ready for his second round. Trenton Wade was the first to see Ronald sitting by Claire in the corner of the room. "There you are Claire. The room got much colder and a whole lot less attractive when you left." He said smugly while approaching them. "Trenton you flirt, someone needed to keep an eye out for our guest here." She replied, completely eating up the flattery. "Oh yes, Ronald... how was the trip back home?" Trenton asked facetiously, while shooting him a taunting glare. Poor Ronald could just sit there and take it... this was not the venue for a confrontation, he was already on thin ice as it were and he was under no delusions that this was intended to be a friendly visit. He knew that he and Citizen-voice have just been successful for long enough to this point. Now with initiative 701 currently hanging in the balance, and the newly discovered FBI investigation into Citizen-voice. Ronald believed that making him go away quickly and quietly was probably the first thing on Legacy's to do list. "Hello Mr. Wade, getting home was interesting... I had a good deal to think about." Ronald replied with disgust in his voice. The abrasive response took Trenton by surprise, and he sort of appreciated the feistiness. In his opinion based on their first encounter, he wasn't sure Ronald had any fight in him at all. "As I understand it Mr. Lomax you have even more to think about now since your return home. I certainly don't envy your position." Trenton continued, before immediately ceasing any further communication with Ronald and focusing his gaze on Claire. "We should head in to the meeting room sweetheart, Paul and the others are already set up." He said smoothly, holding out his hand like a gentleman and helping her to her feet.

Trenton confidently pulled Claire toward him, the two locked arms and starting walking to the conference room. Ronald grabbed the bucket glass from the tray of the oncoming server and downed the entire drink with one gulp. In his mind as he walked he envisioned violent things he would like to do to Trenton right now. Things like trip him from behind, or maybe kick him in his ass aggressively like the Spartan king Leonidas from that twentieth century classic three hundred. These thoughts made him smile and feel a little better about himself for a brief moment. As he approached the double doors that lead to the conference room he couldn't hold back the nerves and the fear. Even two double shots of scotch couldn't bolster his courage enough to face the Elite in this private setting.

As he turned the corner and saw Claire having her hand kissed by a gentlemen near the head of the table he locked eyes with Frederic Kirov. Frederic Kirov is probably the worst possible member of Legacy. He has untold wealth and is a very important political figure in Russia. If those aren't good enough reasons to be afraid of him, take into account his strict and untrusting Russian heritage, and that makes him truly dangerous. There at the head of the table was Paul North US Congressman and self-made billionaire stock trader. Paul sold all of his stock holdings just before the war, and when the war was over he purchased a credit card company. The one that conveniently landed the world capital account; which now supplies 100% of the market. The meeting room was a venerable who's who of the world's most powerful and influential people. All of whom in addition were high ranking members of the Legacy commission.

There at the opposite end of the table from Paul North was a place card that had Ronald's name on it. He started to feel more like this was an inquisition rather than a meeting as each minute passed. The large board meeting style table was covered in appetizer trays, pitchers of beer, and bottles of wine, and champagne on ice. It looked more like Legacy was having a party rather than a serious meeting. They were here to discuss important topics such as RO-1, and how to get Citizen-voice out of the crosshairs of the FBI, he thought. He was starting to grow a little concerned with the nonchalant atmosphere, but then again he had to remind himself who he was dealing with. The Elite never took anything that seriously, it was like dealing with fraternity brats that could buy themselves out of any situation at any time.

He took his seat opposite of Paul North whom glanced over at him looking inconvenienced by his mere presence. Ronald reached for a bottle of the champagne nearest him and poured himself a glass. He figured that he might as well treat it like a party if his hosts were going to be so relaxed about everything. He also thought that being drunk may help him make it through this nightmare. The rest of the members made their way to the table and took their seats. Paul stood up and addressed the group. "Welcome everyone. I am sure you are all well aware of the troubling circumstances surrounding RO-1, and now Citizen-voice. I wanted all of us to meet and allow Ronald Lomax an opportunity to share with us his plan to defeat the Global relief fund; formally known as initiative 701." He looked at Ronald and winked. "I also wanted us to all discuss the newest development. The FBI investigation of Citizen-voice... however myself and the commission have already handled that." Paul looked at Ronald again, he could see that he was confused by that statement. "Do you have a question Ronald?" Ronald looked around at the powerful men and women staring back at him. He took a large swill of the champagne and responded. "Well I guess just one. How exactly did the commission "Handle" the FBI situation?"

"How long have you been working for Citizen-voice Ronald?" Paul asked while sitting back down. "Ten years Paul, you know how long I have been director of Citizen-voice... you hired me." Ronald chugged the last of the champagne and poured his glass full letting the thick foam pour over the rim. Paul looked straight into his eyes and said deadly serious. "Then you have been here long enough to know that you don't need to know how something is handled, just that it is. Once the commission makes a decision the problem goes away, end of story." Although the answer was not that satisfying, and somewhat demeaning, Ronald had seen other problems miraculously just go away before, so he lifted his glass in salute.

"You are right Paul, in my experience the commission has always taken care of things." He replied. Paul snapped his fingers and a server that was waiting silently in the shadow scurried over to him. The man poured Paul a glass of champagne and slid a plate of appetizers toward him. Then backed away into the shadow without making a sound, to await his next beckoning. "Ronald I am sure everyone here is very interested in how you plan to get a six to five vote against the global relief fund next week." Everyone looked directly at him, all of them anticipating a quality answer. Ronald could feel all of them questioning and judging him with their eyes and thoughts, and his mind went blank. He knew he had some good things to say or at least he thought that he did, but in this very moment he wasn't really sure about anything anymore not even if his name was Ronald. The more time that passed the more he began to feel the pressure building, and he started to sweat. The beads of sweat raced like stock cars down his forehead towards his collar as if it was the finish line in the championship race. "Uh..." he barely uttered. "Uh?" Paul snapped impatiently. Frederic Kirov slammed the table with his fist causing almost everyone to take pause. "I have had enough of this. You will tell us what is plan. If not I will create a plan for what we will do with you." The angry Russian shouted.

Ronald thought to himself, here they all sit just three minutes into this meeting and he was already being threatened. Paul shook his head and leaned forward. "I was waiting to share this information until after your input, but since you can't seem to conjure a single sentence, I guess I will throw you a life preserver." Paul looked around the room proudly and announced. "We only need Ronald and Citizen-voice to get three out of six committee members to vote no to initiative 701, and it will never get to a public vote. We already have three committee members in our pockets." Everyone started to talk amongst themselves and call for service to replenish their drinks, and to bring them more food. That was the Elites answer to everything, buy what they want because after all everything is for sale. It is too bad, but too true, sadly everything wouldn't be for sale if people could just put morality and ethics above monetary gain. The news did take a huge load off of Ronald though, he felt a weight lifted and a brief calmness overcome him. That was until Frederic yelled directly at him again. "What is plan for other three votes Lomax?!" Startled, and thoroughly compelled Ronald began to explain. "My team and I have been working on a visual presentation about the costs and set backs of all NWPI missions under Benjamin Snell's leadership. We plan to show graphs of our declining eco systems and the estimated cost to "try" and refresh or restart them -vs- building out and relocating to Mar's. We strongly believe this will do the trick. The numbers are staggering, fudged just a bit but never the less staggering."

Ronald explained proudly. "That is more what I was hoping for Ronald, thank you." Paul responded. "Trenton do you have anything you would like to add?" He asked. Trenton sat back in his seat nice and easy and pulled a fat expensive cigar from his left breast pocket. He clipped the end of the cigar with a solid gold cutter, and like magic an arm appeared from behind him and lit the end as Trenton puffed. Thick white fragrant smoke billowed like an old steam engine. "I do." He said as he looked directly at Ronald with a disdainful and aggravated expression. "Excuse me but... fucking visual presentations and graphs? Every goddam thing Benjamin Snell and NWPI has done has been a wild success you idiot! Titan is hailed as the greatest space station ever created; hell even thought of, and that's not to mention Jewel. Before Jewel it was one trip per year to mars and for only trained astronauts. Now anyone of us can go and it takes just over a month. You aren't going to get any votes if you think the committee will care about numbers. We need to attack the actual fact that we can't really bring shit from other planets back here to help our planet."
Ronald sat with his hands cupped and arms extended on the table in front of him. "That is something we considered Mr. Wade." He wasn't going to call him Trent because as far as he was concerned the two were very far from being friends. "It is actually considered scientifically sound that we could do those things. There are many books about terraforming and bio-dome environments that prove this theory." Frederic Kirov was still fired up about the verbal assault that Trenton just unleashed on Ronald, and anything scientific was lost on him anyhow; so he joined in. "No, Trenton is right. You must change the argument to be about this idea failing. Not charts and numbers. You work for us you do what is told to you." He demanded. "That's goddam right you do, Ronald!" Trenton agreed viscously.

"Hey gentlemen! Ronald is here as our guest because he has the knowledge and success as a political lobbyist. Legacy has always stood behind him and Citizen-voice and this should be no different. If Ronald and his team believe that their presentation will work I say that we trust them." Shouted Claire in Ronald's defense. "I agree." Said Paul. "There is no reason to interfere with Citizen-voice and Mr. Lomax's experience when it comes to this debate. We have done our part with the three nay votes already in hand." As Paul finished his statement, Trenton leapt in to share his unsolicited opinion on the matter. "Paul listen. NWPI and Snell are going to have the same presentation, but with actual successful outcomes and hard scientific data to prove they can make it work. I promise you if you allow this presentation to be the one our side hopes will win us the war, I have to question your judgement." Frederic was right at home with this kind of meeting and wanted in on the action. "He is right Paul. Snell has made his statements. He has proven himself and NWPI. If this vote goes public you know like rest of us. We will be forced to pay for his fund with billions of credits. We need to hit hard and with all we have, or we truly lose." Claire sat in her chair and glared at the two loud mouth gorillas trying to hijack the meeting, and sway Paul with fear tactics and testosterone, and it made her sick. She wasn't sticking up for Ronald for any other reason than what Paul said just recently. The Elite haven't interfered before in any Citizen-voice affairs. They may have been the idea makers, the funding partner, and even the verdict purchaser at times. However they were never the brains, or the experience, or the debater stuck in a hotel for months, and in a courtroom or hearing room for sixteen hours a day like Ronald. This is why she believed that the actual arguments and presentation of those arguments should be left to the professionals.

"Oh would you two just shut the hell up." She growled. Trenton and Frederic froze, she had silenced them both as quickly as their mothers would have when they were children. "Thank you Claire for your input as usual." Said Paul. "Trenton. Frederic. I appreciate the enthusiasm and I believe what you are saying has merit. However we are going to leave the lobbying to the company we pay to lobby." Trenton and Frederic both shared a sinister acknowledgment and then turned to Ronald and said in eerie unison. "You had better hope your presentation works, because if initiative 701 goes public someone will have to pay." Ronald immediately had extreme mixed emotions. On one hand the fact that Claire had stood up for him made him feel a sort of puppy love for her almost instantly, and Paul backing up his firm and his experience was a real confidence booster. On the other hand there was the two maniacs that either win or lose on initiative 701, he could tell would be out to get him for the rest of his life. "Thank you Claire and Paul, I appreciate the support. Trenton, Frederic... I understand your concerns. I assure you we are looking into all aspects of our arguments. We are out to succeed, so gentlemen please understand we want the same thing." Paul looked around the table and could see most of the members of the commission were satisfied and as for Trenton and Frederic at least for now they were pacified. "It's settled then. I have had this food and booze brought for us as an early celebration. I believe we are on the verge of a successful defeat of initiative 701, and we have settled the FBI investigation. Enjoy yourselves tonight." He snapped his fingers, and the servers all stepped forward from their ready positions against the wall and starting filling glasses with wine and champagne.

They brought fresh hot appetizers and bowls of fruit from the kitchen. The commission members and Ronald sat and ate and drank until the evening turned into the next morning, everyone stuffed themselves full of delicious food and top shelf alcohol until finally calling it a night. They all headed to their designated rooms for some very welcomed sleep about two AM. Ronald stood up from the table and immediately braced himself against his chair as he almost felt like falling over. The room was spinning and he felt like he could either throw up or pass out where he stood, and neither option was appealing in the least. He took a few deep breathes and gathered his wits, stood up straight and started toward the elevator that would take him to the main level where all the guest rooms were located. He could see Claire and Trenton laughing and standing close to each other by the elevator, the feeling that he could puke raced back to the surface so quick he actual did vomit in his mouth a little. Thankfully he caught himself before hurling all over the floor in front of everyone. He quickly turned back around and snatched a half full glass of champagne sitting on the table and chugged it down to wash the nasty acidic flavor from his mouth. When he turned back toward the direction of the elevator he could see that Trenton and Claire had already gotten on, and were most likely headed to her room at this very minute. His lust for Claire and his hatred for Trenton made for a vicious emotional storm in his gut. He felt a desperate need to just get hell out of there altogether. Unfortunately they were at Fort Legacy. Not only is it on the coast, backed against sheer cliffs hundreds of feet high, but it was at least a hundred miles to the nearest hover car rental agency; one reached only by helicopter. He decided that just getting to his room, sleeping it off and leaving first thing in the morning was a more rational option. He stumbled to his room on the third floor and flopped face down on the mattress not even kicking off his shoes.

Ronald tossed and turned for five hours dreaming awful dreams and sweating like a melting ice cube. Later that morning a muffled sound caused him to stir under the blankets. He was underneath and partial wrapped in the sheet and comforter as if he had wrestled with an imaginary opponent all night. He lifted the pillow off of his head and the sound was much clearer this time. It was a knock at the door, and the muffled sound was a voice, but he could barely make out the words. "Please open the door I can't understand you!" Ronald yelled grouchily, as his head throbbed like a rhythmic heartbeat. The door opened slowly and a young man wearing a server uniform peaked his head in. "The commission has requested your presence on the view deck sir. Can I get you anything at this time?" "No. I am fine. I just need a shower and I will be right there." "Ok sir I will tell them you are up and on your way." Ronald rested his head back on the mattress and pulled the pillow back over his head. It felt like tiny construction workers were pulling an overtime shift on his skull, yet strangely enough he also felt extremely hungry at the same time. "Shoot me now." He muttered out loud as he oozed off the side of bed onto his knees and reached for his scattered clothes. He must have flung them off at some point during his night terrors. The remaining Legacy commission members were at the breakfast table on the massive view deck on the front of the mansion. The sun was almost peeking through and if you stared long enough you might even see a sliver of blue through the haze.

Off in the distance you could see waves crashing against jagged rocks, spewing up dirty froth, and you could hear the calls and shrieks of starving seagulls. Paul reached for a thick juicy grape from a pyramid like pile of them freshly plucked from one of Fort Legacy's perpetual gardens. "Claire, what do you think about 'Renewal objective 1'... I don't believe I ever asked you that." He said to her just before popping the grape into his mouth. "I feel the same way I did when we created the plan. It's the only way that we can survive. The only way our way of life can survive." She replied. "How does your daughter Amy feel about RO-1?" Paul asked with a tone of distrust. Claire removed her gaze from the circling sea birds and looked up at Paul from her chair to his left. "She feels the way I raised her to feel about it.

You will not question my family while there is breath in my body do you understand Paul?!" She snarled. Paul put his hands up in surrender, and chuckled. He sat back and relaxed into his cushy patio chair. "I know, I am just messing with you. I love the loyalty you have to your children. I don't believe I have ever felt that kind of deep loyalty to anyone but myself." he said. Trenton joined in on the chuckle and raised his mimosa in a cheers gesture to them both. Ronald approached the wide open French doors leading out to the view deck and was hit with a semi-warm gust of semi-fresh sea air, and was partially blinded by the overcast haze. The sky was lit up to an almost florescent glow from a sun desperately trying to show through. The look from Frederic Kirov told Paul all he needed to know. "Good morning Ronald." He said from his seat that was facing opposite of the door to the view deck. "Have breakfast with us... and then Roman will fly you back to the airport." Ronald made his way slowly to the table feeling nauseous with hunger and nursing a headache that made him contemplate suicide as a rational option. Paul snapped his fingers and a server briskly dashed toward him from near the door.

"Get Mr. Lomax two of my green pills and a large glass of milk." "Yes sir." The server responded already sprinting for the kitchen "Ronald, I hope you had a good time. That was a kind of victory celebration for you. I feel completely confident that with the three nay votes already in the bag, you will make the other three happen with your dedication and unprecedented track record." Ronald was thankful for the assistance and he did have a good time. That is up until the point where he became completely wasted, yet continued to mistreat his liver until almost two AM. "Yes I did and thank you and Legacy for all the support of Citizen-voice." Ronald groggily professed. The server returned from the kitchen with the pills and milk that Paul had ordered for Ronald. He placed them in front of him while he just stared at the offering blankly. "Oh no thank you I don't do well with medications. I appreciate it, but I will recover the old fashioned way. More booze and more food." "Nonsense Ronald take the pills I guarantee you have never had a pill like this before." Paul insisted. Ronald reached for the pills reluctantly and sought out something to wash them down with, completely ignoring the milk in front of him. "Use the milk I had brought out for you." Said Paul. "I am not a fan of milk, is there anything else?" Ronald asked.

"You need to take them with milk." Paul urged. "The coating of the liquid and the cultures that make your body start to treat it like food is the only thing that will keep you from hurling the pills and whatever else is in your stomach all over my breakfast table." Ronald surrendered and plunked the two green pills onto his tongue and guzzled the milk just to get it over with. The cold thick milk coated his throat as the pills slid towards his stomach like kids on a water slide. The milk reached his stomach first and started to instantly squelch the nauseous hunger feeling, and the pills plopped in shortly after, dissolving instantaneously. Like a flash of lighting to his head the pills took effect, and Ronald sat straight up in his seat and took a deep breath. He couldn't believe it, he felt like he had slept a solid nine hours and woke up to a scheduled full body massage that just ended. "Wow!" he exclaimed "What are those?" Paul laughed and smacked the table with his left hand.

"That is the same reaction I get from everyone. I love seeing the same basic reaction performed by dozens of different people... That Ronald is a new developmental drug my pharmaceutical company Nora-Tech is working on. It is the world's most powerful, fastest acting, longest lasting, fever reducer, muscle relaxer, and pain reliever in one. It is called Puramexin. It will be available in thirty days to the general public. You approve I take it?" Ronald hadn't felt as good as this in months, not only did he approve he was desperate for Paul to give him his own bottle. "Those are amazing! Are there any known side effects?" He asked, now feeling much more like taking a jog in lieu of curling up and dying. Paul looked directly at Ronald who was sitting at attention eagerly awaiting his response. He leaned over and grabbed his frosty mimosa from the table with his right hand and started to pull it towards his lips for a drink. "There is one." He said in a slow deep voice and with slight hesitation. The dramatic stage that Paul was setting started to make all possible side effects flood into Ronald's mind, and like a deranged computer his brain started categorizing them in order of worst possible scenario. Things like a lung collapsing, or a massive coronary topped the list. Paul sat and took a long sip of his delicious brunch beverage and silently enjoyed the mental torture he was inflicting. He knew that right at this moment Ronald was panicking inside. He had just taken an unknown drug, and from an Elite no less; heck he felt like Ronald might even be thinking it was poison right about now.

The silence was killing Ronald and all the bad thoughts of possible side effects, and bad motives joined hands, and danced through his mind making his stomach turn. Paul set his drink back down after allowing a long silent pause that whipped Ronald into a frenzied panic. It was even long enough for Frederic, Trenton and Claire to be enthralled with intrigue... "Drowsiness..." Paul said casually... before bursting into deep belly laughter. Trenton and Frederic joined right in as they saw the look on Ronald's face. One of complete relief, and simultaneous utter dismay. It kind of looked like he had gas. This made them laugh even harder as Claire just sat there completely unimpressed. Even though she secretly thought it was funny too, Claire was always a lady first and foremost.

"Have some food Ronald, enjoy the new feeling of refreshment, and then take a nice trip home to prepare for the victory ahead. The hearing is in less than a week." Paul said as he reached for his ready plate of food. "Yes that is a good idea." Said Ronald grabbing a fresh Danish from a tray to his right. "You get back to work when you are home. Initiative 701 must not be passed through." Said Frederic through a mouthful of bacon and potatoes. Trenton just stared at Ronald unconvinced of his ability to defeat 701, and simultaneously contemplating ways he could 'Make it look like an accident' if he had Ronald killed, as he plotted and chewed on his steak and eggs. Claire pecked at her plate and looked up at Ronald. "You do what you have always done Ronald. We will come out just fine in the end."

They all sat and silently finished their meal, as the starving sea birds began to circle closer and closer in great anticipation that the humans would leave, and hopefully not take the remaining food with them. About twenty-minutes later, Paul stood up and pressed hail on his Omni wrist-raven. A miniature watch version of the Omni-security tablet that run's almost everyone's home and business in 2266. On the other end Roman the chopper pilot answered. "Yes sir?" "Ronald is ready to be flown to the airport now. He will be on the helipad in five minutes." Replied Paul. Then he turned to Ronald who was finishing the last of his third mimosa of the morning. He extended his hand in the standard handshake position and gestured with his head in a slight nod, that basically said get up it's time for you to go.

"I want you to stop by the kitchen on your way to the elevator. Giovani will have a bottle of Puramexin for you as a gift. We are all pulling for you." Ronald reached for his hand and stood at the same time. "Thank you Paul... and Claire." He looked fondly at her and gave a thankful look for all the help she had offered the past twenty four hours. "Gentlemen." He said with a dash of hatred and spritz of disgust while addressing Trenton and Frederic. Not so much as making actual eye contact with either of them. He turned and headed to the kitchen as the MD 700 engine roared in the distance. There at the entrance to the kitchen stood Giovani already holding a care bag for him. Ronald took the bag and took one last look back at the table of hosts before heading to the elevator, and up to the helipad where Roman already had the war bird all warmed up and ready to fly. As he sat looking out the window at the sheer cliff walls and scavenging seagulls circling desperately. He suddenly had a random memory flash across his mind. It was an image of a beautiful young woman at a restaurant. It was the memory of the lunch invitation he had received a while back where a young attractive woman with sparkling green eyes gave him a threatening letter. He sat forward, and couldn't believe it. This whole time he didn't realize that the young lady was Claire's daughter. He had only seen Claire twice before today and he had never met her daughter Amy before, so he hadn't noticed the striking resemblance at first. The threatening letter must have been written by Claire, and she was most likely the employer of the gorilla in a three piece suite that delivered the invitation. This revelation made him feel less thankful of her recent support, as well as a little sick to his stomach. Below at Fort Legacy the remaining commission members got up from the table and stretched. They all pulled out fat expensive cigars and servants rushed to them almost attempting to outdo one another as they lit the ends. The cherry red and ashen glow sparked on all four cigars as thick white streams of smoke billowed from them like steam from a factory.

"Do you think he has any idea what is about to happen to him?" Paul asked with a menacing tone. "Not in the least." Claire replied followed by a sexy wink and long draw on her cigar. "Of course not. He is fool. It will be good knowing that all problems will be behind us for once and all." Said Frederic as he looked over at Trenton and smiled with his long thick cigar hanging from his clenched teeth. Trenton just started laughing, and soon the rest of them joined in. It was a truly maniacal scene as they all turned toward the Estate house doors and headed inside. The flock of famine laden seagulls whom had been circling the brunch affair for the past hour were delighted to see the humans finally get up and leave. They swooped down with little hesitation, and started feverishly gobbling up everything they could. Plates went flying and glasses shattered on the concrete deck. The staff ran from the kitchen at the sounds of the breaking glass and psychotic calls of the ravenous birds. The sight of the humans running at them scared off the flock, but as they flew away they took one last bite of anything near them, and grabbed anything they could carry during the retreat.