Jenna Black - Replica

The knowledge that the protesters were going to be charged with treason, among other things, made Nate sick to his stomach. Despite the ugly things they’d been shouting at him, Nate couldn’t stand the thought of people serving life sentences or even being executed because of a riot they didn’t start, and he arranged a meeting with his father to give the Chairman a clear picture of what really happened.

The meeting was at five o’clock, but of course the Chairman made Nate wait while he finished a phone call that went a half hour long. Nate would have been pissed off, except he was so used to it that he couldn’t muster the energy to be pissed anymore. When he was a kid, Nate had sometimes sensed real paternal affection from his father. He even had a picture of himself as a small child, maybe four years old, riding on his laughing father’s shoulders. But the older he’d gotten, the less his father seemed to like him, and once he hit adolescence, they’d become more like embattled strangers than father and son.

Now that Nate was officially an adult and no longer dependent on his father, he found the best way to keep their relationship civil was to keep it on a strictly business level. His father agreed, which was why he played the make-the-subordinate-wait mind games.

It was just after 5:30 when Nate was finally admitted to the Chairman’s corner office. Even then, his father made him wait just a little longer, scanning over a document he probably wasn’t even reading as Nate helped himself to a tumbler of scotch from the bar.

“Want one?” he asked, holding up the bottle. It was as good a greeting as any.

The Chairman finally looked up from his document, setting it aside. “Please.”

Nate poured a second drink, then laid it on his father’s desk before lowering himself rather gingerly into the plush leather chair. He’d found he could almost forget about his injuries when he was either upright or seated; it was the transition between the two that smarted.

“I heard about your … ordeal this morning,” the Chairman said. “I should have had security disperse the crowd before you arrived. It didn’t occur to me that they’d get so out of hand.”

Nate took a sip of his scotch, forcing himself to slow down and think a moment before he made a surly response. Anything the Chairman had heard about the riot had no doubt been reported to him by security personnel, who had a vested interest in portraying the incident as a crowd turning into a rioting mob.

“Actually,” he said, with what he felt was admirable calm, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been looking at the news coverage. I saw that thirty-two people have been arrested and charged with treason.”

The Chairman’s eyes sharpened, and Nate figured his father sensed where he was going with this.

“Don’t you think that’s a little … extreme?”

His father leaned back in his chair, cradling the scotch in his lap. “They attacked the Chairman Heir. That’s the very definition of treason.”

Nate sipped his scotch again, but if he was going to use scotch as his pressure valve when his temper flared, he’d need the bottle. He gripped the tumbler rather more tightly than necessary, but tried to keep his voice level. The longer he could keep the tension from escalating into something resembling a fight, the better chance he had of convincing his father to be a little more lenient.

“I don’t know what you’ve been told exactly,” he said, “but no one actually attacked me. Some idiot in the crowd threw an egg. That’s all that happened. And security went berserk. The crowd didn’t get out of hand at all. It was the security officers. They started in with the pepper spray and batons just because someone threw an egg.”

“Your bodyguard interpreted it as an attack. I hear he wrestled you to the ground.”

Nate waved that off. “He saw someone throw something. For all he knew, it was a rock or a grenade. I’d have ducked myself if I’d seen it coming. But it wasn’t a rock or a grenade. It was an egg. I was not attacked, so there’s no reason to charge those people with treason.”

Nate remembered the sight of the security officer beating the guy who’d thrown the egg. As far as Nate was concerned, the poor bastard had more than paid for his offense already. Assuming he’d survived. Just because the news didn’t mention any fatalities among the demonstrators didn’t mean there weren’t any.

The Chairman swirled his scotch around in his glass, one corner of his mouth tipped up in a patronizing smile. “You’re a good kid, son,” he said in an equally patronizing voice. “You have a good heart and a generous spirit. But I don’t care if they threw marshmallows at you. I will not have my son and heir attacked by an unruly mob of idiots who want to throw away the goose that laid the golden egg because it makes them uncomfortable.”

Nate leaned forward in his chair and put the scotch down. It wasn’t helping his temper any, though he was fighting like hell to stay calm and in control of himself. An impassioned, emotional appeal to the Chairman’s better nature had no chance of working. A rational, reasoned one just might.

“You didn’t see what I saw,” he said, wishing he could scrub the sights and sounds out of his memory. “The moment the pepper spray came out, the people at the front of the crowd tried to run away, but they couldn’t because the people behind them didn’t know what was going on. They were trying to run, trying to protect their faces, and the security officers sprayed them anyway, then started whaling on them with their batons. The guy who threw the egg was lying there in fetal position as they beat him, and no one else had done anything worse than yell and wave signs around. They’ve already been beaten and tortured with pepper spray. They don’t deserve to be tried for treason just because they happened to be present when someone threw an egg.” Maybe if he repeated the part about the egg often enough, the Chairman would finally see the ridiculousness of the overreaction.

Nate was proud of himself for managing to stay so calm and reasonable. Nadia would be impressed with his restraint. And she thought he couldn’t contain his temper! If she could see him now, she’d realize how wrong she had been not to trust him.

The Chairman shook his head and sighed. “You’re missing the point, son. There were arrests made after that first demonstration at the Fortress, but most of those people were released without charges, and those who were charged were fined, not jailed. And because we didn’t take a hard enough stance against that kind of behavior, those animals showed up at Headquarters today. They will continue to show up in ever greater numbers unless we forcefully discourage such behavior. Filing treason charges against the rioters will be a powerful deterrent to anyone else who might think about setting up another such demonstration.”

A chill sank into him as Nate stared at his father and a suspicion wormed its way into his mind. His mouth went dry, and he licked his lips as every muscle in his body tensed.

“Why didn’t you have the demonstrators dispersed before I arrived?” he asked, his voice strained. He prayed for his father to look puzzled, to not understand what Nate was getting at. If he didn’t understand, that meant Nate’s sickening suspicion was wrong. But the Chairman merely folded his hands on the desk and returned his stare, his face bland as he dared Nate to put voice to what had happened.

“Were you hoping someone would do something stupid when I showed up at the scene?” Nate asked when it was clear his father wasn’t going to answer. “Did you order the security officers to attack the crowd at the slightest provocation?”