NOVEL WEB Chapter 69: A Negotiation
"Let me cut to the chase. I teach Computer Science at MIT. What you guys are seeing isn't malice but engineering and economics at work. At the end of the day, Sirius Software is a corporation that needs the goodwill of both customers and the political class to function. What is happening is a targeted smear campaign by Senator Goldberg. And why? Because Sirius Software refuses to buy into her ideology, and focuses on cold hard science. That is the fact of the matter. This deadlock, is in your hands people. Do we want a Senator who promises a revolution but cannot keep your lights on? Or do you want the guy who does?" asked Ivan to the rapt audience.
"Let me tell you, as a father of a six-year-old girl. I'll back the guy who keeps the lights on, the water running and the heat on even if he makes all the women who work for him wear leather and high heels, over the politician who can do jack squat except scream for a reckoning without any alternatives. Monica must go!" he shouted, and the crowd was whipped into a frenzy.
"Monica must go! Monica must go!" they started to chant.
"Damn, Mr. Zakhrov, I didn't take you for a rabble-rouser," muttered Father Joseph, stepping up to the lectern again.
"Everyone, please calm down. I appreciate the energy, but it needs to be directed to the right people. Start petitioning the Senate and the other senators in Massachusetts to resolve this deadlock," he said, calming down the crowd and allowing them to safely disperse.
----
"It's good to see you again Ivan," said Father Abel as he, Father Joseph, Ivan and Michael sat in the luxuriously appointed faculty lounge of St. Ignatius Academy, sipping perfectly brewed coffee.
"Yes it has been a while. How's Kate and Mei Ling?" asked Ivan.
"Happily married to Andre, and Eliot Thompson respectively. Kate's even got a baby on the way," chuckled Father Abel. His face turned serious.
"How are you and Annette doing? Those blackouts can't be easy," he asked Ivan.
"Annette is in denial," sighed Ivan. He took a long gulp of his coffee.
"You know what's scary? Even though I'm one of the victims, I'm proud of Aaron and what he's been able to do," he said.
"That we all are, Mr. Zakhrov," said Michael.
"What's actually happening to Sirius Software? Is Aaron really packing up to shift to Libya?" asked Ivan.
"As much as Saladin would like that, no. Aaron is staying here, but he is considering pulling the plug permanently and keeping just his compound independently powered," said Michael.
"I see," said Ivan, his hands trembling as he set down his coffee cup.
"I know that this is way too little and way too late, but I'm grateful Mr. Zakhrov. I am grateful to you from the bottom of my heart that you have raised a man like Aaron Zakhrov," said Father Joseph, his voice thick.
Father Abel clapped his hands sharply. "As much as the two of you want to wallow in regret, that's not what is needed right now. Aaron himself, doesn't want to be a sympathy case, which is why Michael and I were careful to leave his personal history out of our presentation," he said firmly.
"I picked up on that when I asked to speak. It still stings though," sighed Ivan.
"Well, we do have other problems. The police and various activists have camped outside Sirius Software. The entire compound is under lockdown. Aaron's putting up a good front, but he's still just one guy versus a big chunk of the government," said Father Abel.
"I've managed to knock back the indictment to house arrest instead, so we're good on that front for now," said Michael.
"Isn't there anybody else with Monica's reach that we can rely on to get this shit resolved?" asked Ivan.
"Senator Scott is the other sitting senator for Massachusetts. He's supposed to be trying to negotiate, but he's scared of both Aaron and Monica," said Michael grimly.
The door to the lounge opened, and Catherine Davis entered, her heels clicking on the floor in agitation.
"We've got a visitor, with high level diplomatic cover. Saladin, the new Premier of Libya," she said, her voice tense.
"Relax Ms. Davis. Saladin is a friend," said Michael getting to his feet.
----
"Let it go, let it go, can't hold back anymore," sang Mikaela happily in the front passenger seat of the Hyundai Ioniq 5, as Annette slowly drove back to the house.
"I should have knocked the stuffing out of that vicious brat when I had the chance!" thought Annette savagely, flooring the Hyundai's throttle in anger, but the car's ADAS kept it steady at the speed limit.
The wail of sirens pulled her out of her stupor and she quickly pulled over as a convoy of black SUVs, police motorcycles, and a stretch limousine flying the Libyan flag rolled past.
"What the hell is happening to this town?" she asked in bewilderment, as Mikaela stared wide-eyed at the massive convoy.
Curiosity got the better of Annette, and she moved back onto the road, discretely following the convoy.
----
"So, this is the famous St. Ignatius Academy," said Saladin, as he stepped out of the limo, accompanied by a security detail of women dressed in sleek white leather uniforms, similar to the black Sirius Software security uniforms.
A Secret Service agent in a sharp black suit, with an earpiece in his ear came up to them.
"Area is secured Mr. Saladin," he reported.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones. That was rather quick," remarked Saladin.
Jones fought down a smile.
"Yes sir, the school's security team knows their stuff," he said, carefully maintaining a neutral tone.
Saladin nodded, and walked towards the main building, where Father Joseph and Michael were waiting.
"Welcome, Lord Saladin to St. Ignatius Academy," greeted Father Joseph in fluent Arabic, causing Saladin to raise an eyebrow in appreciation.
"It is my pleasure to be here," he replied in English.
Michael and Father Joseph escorted Saladin to the faculty lounge, where he was supplied with tea by a nervous Catherine Davis.
"Let me get to the point, I'm here to extend a formal invitation to Aaron Zakhrov and Sirius Software to shift operations to Libya. However, I do not wish to disrupt the lives of ordinary citizens dependent on Aaron's patronage. Therefore, I ask that you give me an unfiltered and accurate assessment," said Saladin sipping his tea.
"Quite honestly Saladin, if Aaron pulls out, we're looking at the loss of nearly four trillion dollars of revenue," said Michael, handing Saladin a thick folder.
Saladin flipped through the report, nodding appreciatively.
"I can see why you would be reluctant to allow Aaron to leave. Very well, I rescind my invitation and offer, and propose that I handle this so-called dispute, as a token of appreciation for the prosperity that Aaron has brought to my people," he said.
"We'd be honored, how should we proceed?" asked Michael.
"Jones, extend an invitation to Senator Goldberg at the Libyan embassy. The negotiations will take place there as neutral ground," ordered Saladin.
"Yes sir," said Jones.
----
Monica sat red-faced opposite Saladin in a luxurious room at the Libyan embassy.
"Senator Goldberg, I understand that you do not agree with the policies that Sirius Software has for its employees, but I implore you to consider the very human cost that this conflict has wrought upon ordinary citizens who trusted you to represent their interests and govern in their stead," said Saladin.
"Tell that to those countless innocents your forces butchered in your grab for power in Libya!" spat Monica.
"This is a closed room negotiation, senator. Save the rhetoric for the television cameras," said Saladin, studying his fingernails with a bored expression.
"What the hell is there to negotiate? Sirius Software has engaged in treasonous, unlawful and monopolistic behavior!" snapped Monica.
"Sticking to that, are we? Have you seen your approval ratings recently? Even a rigged election isn't going to get you out of this particular mess," said Saladin, showing her a set of graphs on a tablet.
"Why don't you and Zakhrov just get out and go to that shithole you call your country?" snapped Monica, swatting the tabled away. It fell to the ground and shattered.
"You do know that by saying that you're handing me a four trillion dollar economic engine on a silver platter don't you?" asked Saladin, raising an eyebrow.
"Like that would actually materialize in that corrupt cesspool!" snarled Monica.
Saladin snapped his fingers, and one of his bodyguards entered the room, carrying a large square metal box.
Monica swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat at the clicking of the bodyguard's heels.
"A gesture of thanks, Senator. I shall make arrangements for Sirius Software's shifting to Libya. You may declare victory to your voters," said Saladin, as the bodyguard set the box down on the table between them.
Monica eyed the box suspiciously.
"Go ahead, I'm not foolish enough to bring a bomb or anything so uncivilized," chuckled Saladin.
Monica pressed a button on the top of the box, and with a hiss, the metal sections opened out.
A scream escaped her lips as she saw the severed head of Jamal Mozambique frozen in a cube of transparent acrylic.
His expression one of mild shock.
"As a tribute, I shall deliver a batch of one hundred such boxes every month. They contain the hopes and dreams of those immigrants you so graciously blessed us with," said Saladin rising to his feet.
Monica staggered backwards.
"Let's drop pretense. Your little plan to destabilize my country with the human refuse from the rest of Africa is dead. Now choose between a fully ascendant Libya or a prosperous Boston. The clock is ticking," said Saladin, surveying Monica's blubbering and pudgy form with undisguised contempt.
"Fine, I'll call off the dogs," said Monica, tears of humiliation and rage rolling down her cheeks.
"A wise decision," said Saladin, handing her a phone, and a set of tissues.