Washington, D.C.

The White House, Oval Office

Acting President Philip Cain was sitting behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office and was using his considerable willpower to prevent himself from having a temper tantrum. What was supposed to be one of the greatest triumphs of his life was turning into a joke.

It was so easy to make his predecessor fall ill; a cocktail of exotic drugs that were extremely hard to detect unless there was an autopsy. To avoid that, he had to be satisfied with putting the man in a permanent coma. It did not really matter one way or the other, the outcome was the same—he was in charge.

If that idiot, Commander J. Brown, did as he was originally ordered to do, he would have won the race and collected the prize. Everything would have been done with a simple solution. Now, he was forced to behave in a way he loathed… he had to compromise.

Just like almost everyone on the face of the Earth, he watched Michael Freeman’s interview. It was such a contorted pack of lies and half-truths; he could not believe the temerity of the man. On top of that, his call to action was inspired, and it was the reason why almost every telephone line to the White House was in use. He did not even want to think about the mass of protesters outside the gate, which had gathered in the past hour and quickly grew to alarming proportions.

This was not how things were done, exposing everything into the open; making those insignificant masses believe as if they were really important and in control of their destinies.

The Joint Chiefs, members of the Senate, even his own secretary was urging him to accept that invitation for the videoconference. That infernal man has managed to steer the passions of the whole world, something he thought impossible. And he couldn’t help but wonder, what was Mr. Freeman’s endgame? Oh, he realized that the man was playing one nation against the other, but what was he planning to get out of it all? It was disturbing to be the one in the dark.

Now he was put on the spot, and the barbarians were at his doors, demanding action. He wished that like Nero, he could burn down this entire city and enjoy a glass of wine while he watched those annoying pests turn to ash.

He will have to accept this invitation, despite how much it infuriated him.

Damn Michael Freeman to hell.

***

Pagan Island, Pacific Ocean

Michael was watching live satellite images of the island and surrounding waters. Six ships were now anchored off shore, and more were coming. Fortunately, there were no more incidents like the one the Russians committed. Every captain on their ship was waiting for the politicians to resolve the stalemate.

Elizabeth moved in front of him and straightened his tie.

“So, are you ready to face all those silly old men?”

“Those silly old men make decisions for almost the entire world Liz, and they have no sense of humor.”

“I know, but you have to admit that their sense of self-importance is blown out of proportion.”

“Oh yes, that’s a mandatory professional deformity. Right now, they are all pissed at me for putting them under the spotlight. Imagine the horror of having to do your job, to listen to the will of the people.”

“Well, turn on that charm of yours, it worked on me the first time I saw you,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Michael took her in his arms. “Actually, the first time you saw me, you were shooting in my direction, and subsequently saved my life.”

“I wasn’t shooting at you, I wouldn’t miss, and you saved mine right back.”

They held each other for a while, but very soon Max had to interrupt them.

“Michael, it’s time.”

Elizabeth gave him one more kiss and wiped a trace of her lipstick from his lips.

“Knock them dead.”

***

Michael was sitting in the conference room, but it has gone through some changes lately. The big round table was removed, and in its place, a modest, unpretentious desk was installed. In front of him, the whole wall was separated into square monitors, under which were placed name-tags and home-countries of the participants. Elizabeth and the others were sitting on chairs moved against the far wall, so they would not be in the camera’s view. Michael felt like he was in a high school play; when you get right down to it, this was a performance he was about to do.

Everything was prepared, and he took one last deep breath before giving Max a nod to start. In the next few seconds, the wall lit up with faces of the world’s most powerful individuals, staring back at him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for accepting my invitation for this videoconference, if you will allow me, we prepared a little presentation about our achievements, and our current crisis,” Michael said before anyone else could get a word in.

The short video was about alleged scientific discoveries made on the island. It showed much more than the general public has seen; this was the honey that needed to attract the flies. It started with new discoveries in the pharmacological field, but then it spread to electromagnetic propulsion, high-tech materials, and the new advances in computer sciences. Everything those people would find quite desirable to have for their own nations. They even made a few animations about the future development of various fields, which were for now mostly theoretical. The video showed them many shiny things, without showing them anything really important. As those that were released to the public, it all ended with the coming of the U.S. Navy ship and the order from Commander J. Brown for their surrender.

“So you see, ladies and gentlemen, that is the nature of our predicament. On this island is the source of some of the most breakthrough technologies in our recent history, and we would like nothing more than to share them with the world. However, if any singular nation got exclusive possession of them, I imagine the rest of you would not just sit on your hands. That is why we sent those invitations to you, so we could collectively try to find an amicable resolution to this situation.”

There was a cacophony of voices at first until Michael tapped the microphone a few times and they quieted down. He proposed that they should elect a chairman of the meeting first. It worked, and surprisingly fast, considering the caliber of people involved. The prime minister of Japan was elected to that position.

The United States President Philip Cain was allowed to speak first.

“Mr. Freeman, you have created quite a stir on the international political stage. There are even protesters in front of the White House, and all that on account of a slight misunderstanding. Commander J. Brown misinterpreted his orders; he was supposed to investigate some allegations made against your scientific mission by one of your ex-members. The USA is in no way trying to steal your research, and I personally think this entire situation has been grossly blown out of proportion. That being said, it is clear that you and your people have made some significant technological achievements, and that there is a need for increased security and supervision of your scientific mission. The USA is generously offering our assistance in that endeavor.”

What came next was such an uproar of voices, he couldn’t understand a single word they were saying. All the same, their facial expressions and hand waving perfectly described their feelings of Philip Cain’s proposal. Since the Japanese prime minister did not have a convenient gavel, he was banging his hand against the desk, demanding silence.

It took a few minutes until they calmed down and then the Russian president was allowed to speak next.

“If anyone should provide supervision it should be Russian troops; Dr. Nikolov is our citizen, and he is the one that made an allegation against you, Mr. Freeman. As I have been informed, other Russian scientists are also part of this project. And it is my responsibility, and duty, to safeguard my country’s citizens and their interests.”

After that, things again went out of hand for a while, since every head of state with a powerful military wanted for them to be the one to provide protection and supervision, there were a few other euphemisms used. To Michael, it seemed they were offering the same kind of protection as the mob was known to provide. He could see the greed in their eyes; they were like a pack of hungry wolves, salivating over a surrounded deer. But then again, that was the outcome he was counting on.

He cleared his throat. “Please, if you would give me a moment.” He said, and they quieted down. “This entire project is done by members of several countries, and giving any ‘supervision’ to a single nation would be asking for trouble. I propose that a committee should be assembled, one for which each of you should provide a representative. We would be happy to host them, and they could be your envoys who would inform you of the things we do. That is my suggestion, so if you want to take some time to discuss this with your advisers, we can take a recess.”

It was accepted by everyone, and in a few minutes, all of them logged off, with an agreement to start again in two hours. That was two more hours closer to the deadline.

“Boss, do you really plan to host those people? You know that all of them will send spies.” Al asked.

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility, but these are all stalling tactics. It will take some time for them to decide if they even want to do that. You have to love politicians, the most obstinate demographics this world has ever produced.” Michael reflected dryly. “Max, how long?” He asked, looking at the AI.

“We’re almost done, and will be able to lift off in a few hours. Some shortcuts were made that we will need to fix later, and people are beyond exhausted. Keep them talking for a little longer; we will make it,” Max replied.

For the next hour, Michael and the others tried to help as much as they could. The entire engine-level was an embodiment of organized chaos. Sparks from welders threw shadows on gigantic machines, some of them as big as houses; metal plates were bolted and joined to the others. He could clearly see the difference between the work Max had done before, it was clean and organic, without any sharp edges. All the new additions were crude in comparison; nonetheless, as Max said, it was a question of aesthetics; the function would not be impaired.

Michael was holding one end of a metal tube that weighed a few hundred pounds, while Tyron was trying to fit the other and to its specified position when Max contacted him through CEI. It was the only way he could on account of the noise level, which was deafening.

“Michael, President Cain wants to talk to you, before the end of the recess.”

“What the hell he wants now?”

“Probably to screw everybody else, what shall I tell him?”

“Give me ten minutes, I need to wash up.”

Exactly ten minutes later, he was sitting before the camera when President Cain’s image appeared.

“Mr. Freeman, how long do you intend to keep up with this charade?” He said as soon as he saw Michael.

“Sir, I’m not sure what you are talking about.”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence, that may work on the rest of those fools but I’m different than them… I'm onto you.”

“Mister President, all I want is to defuse this situation; the world needs stability, a way for us all to learn how to live in peace with each other. I’m trying to do that, to find the common ground where everyone can be satisfied with the final outcome.”

Philip Cain laughed aloud. “So, killing all those terrorists in the Millennial Sports Arena and executing Boko Haram’s members was your way of propagating peace. To say nothing of your bounty project; I know you are not the bumbling fool you try to present to the world, but I like your style. That’s the reason why I’m willing to give you a choice.”

“Mister President, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Son, you are way over your head, but if you act smartly you and your people may yet live to see another day. Give me access to all your technology, your AI, and accept the fact that from this day on you are working for me. Do that and I will make you rich and powerful beyond your wildest dreams… refuse me, and I will erase you and everybody on that island, from the face of this earth.”

The look in President Cain’s eyes was that of a predator, a heartless beast that would take whatever he wanted, without giving a second thought to anybody else. Gone was the image of a cool-headed politician, and Michael realized this was his true face, the face of a sociopath.

At that moment, he wanted to grab this puny little man and rip his head from his shoulders. Max sent a message through his implant. “Calm down, stall him as much as you can. Buy time!”

That is why Michael closed his eyes, to calm himself, and to give the appearance as if he was thinking about it. After a few moments, he nodded.

“Sir, there are other nations involved, and they will react very negatively to that. Some of them are superpowers in their own right, and you know what pressure they can bring to the table. I realize your position but would you allow me some time to think about it?”

Philip Cain did not say anything; he kept looking at Michael with his dead eyes.

“I offered you a choice, yet you stall for time. You should choose your actions carefully, young man—some of them have dire consequences.” He finally said and disconnected the video link.

“Well… shit.” Michael stated, looking at the blank screen.

“What do you think he will do?” Elizabeth asked.

“I have no idea, but I have a bad feeling. Right now, we need to finish the engines, and I hope we make it in time.” Michael answered and got to his feet—there was still work to be done.