Paradise Burning (The Virtagwalla Series Book 2) (14 page)

              Hampton pulled her into a hug after climbing into an elevator. He pushed her away to gaze into her eyes, “You did all you could. As a nation that’s all we could ask.”

              She closed her eyes. For the first time in her life, she lost hope for the future of her nation.

28

              Tanya Handel awoke, initially being blinded by the bright light. She couldn’t feel one of her legs, and her right hand was clearly broken. An innate sense of fear consumed her body and mind almost immediately. She recognized she was in the jungle but couldn’t tell much beyond that. She closed her eyes and laid her head back down. Her cloths were all torn up and her leg, the one she couldn’t feel, was bleeding horribly. Thoughts were flowing through her mind like a herd of wild buffalo, smashing amongst themselves and causing new ones to surface.

              She couldn’t figure out how she had gotten there. Attempting to calm her breath, a fresh sense of panic entered her mind. As if by a broken film projector, memories of her kidnapping and suffering flashed before her eyes. It was painful, and frightening. A second past, and she then remembered being thrown out of the van that had transported her around the island, and into the jungle. Lying on the road, with her broken leg she began to cry out. After a few moments of suffering and screaming she turned over on her back, and stared up into the air. Moments later a hissing sound filled the air and she looked up to find a full grown Virtagwallan Dragon eyeing her from just a few feet away in the forest. Tanya wanted to scream but she couldn’t. She was simply paralyzed with fear. The dragon attacked, and Tanya was instantly knocked out from the pain. She assumed by the scrapes and pains from her back, that the dragon had dragged her into the forest. Opening her eyes back up and looking around, her deepest of fears was realized: she was lying in a Virtagwallan Dragon’s nest.

              Two thoughts came to mind: first was to figure out a way to get her wounded self out of the nest and find help, and second, about how her weak mind had aloud her to be put into this situation. Flipping painfully on to her belly, she grunted audibly, and began with all of her might to crawl to the edge of the nest. It was challenging, and brutally painful. Pausing after only a few feet, she clenched her teeth and began moving again, battling the immense throbbing that filled her body. Her mind was consumed with imagines of her work on the integration committee, proposing ideas for the governmental integration of Virtagwalla into the United States. Her stomach began to hurt in a deeper way than simply her superficial wounds could ever. She felt embarrassment about how she aloud herself to be so easily manipulated, just so that she could impress her father. She had aloud herself to be taken advantage of by believing that Chamberlain, of all people, could possibly help her to become an actress. She permitted other people to fill her mind with ideas, that she put her name to, only to hand the future state of Virtagwalla over to a conniving, ruthless beast. If only she had known earlier she could have warned President Rove of the trickery. But it was all too late. She failed yet again to fix the mistakes and errors she had caused.

              She heard growls behind her. She knew her time had come. Turning over she found three small dragons at their mother’s feet. The mother nodded, and the smaller beasts lunged forward onto Tanya. Silently Tanya laid out her arms, realizing her end was near. Her mind took her to a stage, far away from the horrors around her where she was the focus of many. The bright lights, the roar of the crowd’s approval wrapped around her. The struggle had ended, the scene was closing, and she finally could achieve her goal of being the actress she could never truly be.

29

Xavier’s ride into work the morning after his return from Australia was a painfully slow one. He was driven up Grand Via through the Eastern lawn of Capital Tower, and dropped off along the Grand Via loop. He stood outside his vehicle, and painfully observed the mass of people that had been gathering. Foreclosure and default had become the words of the time, and as people slowly were pushed from their lush dwellings many of them seemed to have moved permanently to the Eastern lawn. When Artimus Zhang attempted to launch the National Guard on the gathering mass, Xavier argued violently over the phone from Australia. He defended the mass of people and explained that instead of finding refuge and “loitering” on the Eastern lawn they were in fact exercising their right to gather peacefully.

He did, however, have anxiety of the growing mass, the widespread misfortune, and loss, and fear was nearly pandemic. Hunger and homelessness makes anyone desperate. Instead of launching the guns on the people, from Australia, Xavier instructed the National Guard to take the people food, and to share their tents and shelters to house the women and children. Instead of escorting them off the lawn of Capital Tower, he was trying to make their time at the foot of government as comfortable as possible. Word spread, causing more and more people to pour into the Eastern lawn. The National Guard was quickly overwhelmed, and had to abandon their humanitarian operations. By the time the President returned to the island, the people of the Eastern lawn had forgotten their President’s act of contrition, and again, returned to blaming him for their misfortune. Xavier could feel it as he painfully climbed the stairs at the entrance of Capital Tower.

              Even the elevator seemed to climb slowly. The pressure of the office had begun to burden Xavier as never before. His head was constantly pounding and when he finally got to sleep at night he would spook himself awake, imagining only the worst things happening outside of his windows. An uptick in mini quakes weren’t helping matters either. Strolling into his office lobby, Kay Lyons was ready to welcome the leader just as she usually did with a cheery smile and his coffee in hand.

              “Good morning Mr. President, I trust your trip to Australia went well,” she welcomed, handing the cup to him, and the most recent addition to the Virtagwallan Times. The headline ran, just like it had basically for the past two months: the Virtagwallan future looks bleak. He stared at her, sighed, and she instantly understood not to mention the topic again. Scurrying away, she hurried back with one of the famous chocolate doughnuts. Xavier forced a smile as he grabbed it from her, and turned towards his office. Stopping before entering, Kay expressed, “Oh, Ms. Chen Boggiano is waiting for you.”

              Sighing again and hanging his head, he moaned to himself, ‘Not today.’

              Entering the office, he didn’t even glance at his guest, “You better be bringing me good news.”

              Boggiano, dressed, as usual, in very stylish clothing, stood and stuck out her hand, “That of which I can not guarantee you Mr. President. I would imagine good news is a rare commodity around here these days.”

              After shaking, Xavier pointed for her to sit back down, and he cackled, “That it is. So what are you here to talk to me about? Interviewing me for how I have become the most hated president in history?”

              Chen winced and expressed a soft smile, “Not exactly sir. I am here to bring to your attention some issues and to solicit some information about the Metropolitan Foundation Service. Are you familiar with it?”

              Rove laughed and sipped his hot coffee, “Of course I am familiar with the organization,” he wittingly smirked, “I am very unsure what you are wanting to talk about, but if its information on the MFS you are looking, why didn’t you go to Peter Riddle? He is the one that runs the place that keeps all of this afloat.”

              Boggiano bit her lip, “Right, that is what everyone keeps telling me.” She moved to her bag, and pulled out a pile of papers and folders rubber banded together, “Mr. President I have stumbled onto some very interesting documents that I feel you should have a gander at.” She handed him the documents.

              Gaping at the attractive young lady for a few moments with a puzzled smirk on his face, he slowly put his coffee down, and unbundled the stack of papers, “What am I looking at?” he asked only after putting his reading glasses on.

              “Those documents detail a report conducted by nine leading experts on air compression systems like the one the MFS operates. As you will see if you flip through and read, these scientists have found that the system that “keeps all of this afloat” is dangerously in disrepair, and actually could be a threat to the city,” Boggiano softly explained.

              Rove closed his eyes and paused for a moment. He thought back to just over a month before, and his conversation with Minister Sensado after they announced the dissolution of the MFS. Flipping over the papers, he began looking around for something, “When was this study conducted?”

              Boggiano cracked a small guilty smile, “A little over a year ago sir.”

              Stopping and snapping his eyes to her, “A year? Why wasn’t I shown this?”

              Boggiano got up from her chair, and moved towards the door. Closing it, she came back. Sitting down she leaned in so that she wouldn’t be talking very loud, “Mr. President, this report was filed a little over a year ago after Peter Riddle had it commissioned. What I can gather is that he was attempting to prove to people how unsafe the system had become and how its dwindling budget was not helping the situation. It was given to the Prime Minister. At which point the argument became mute, and this study was deemed a threat to national security. All copies of the report were seized by the National Guard and destroyed. The nine scientists were forced, almost at gun point, to sign confidentiality agreements,” she paused as Xavier’s eyes grew.

              Xavier took his glasses off and craned his head back, staring up towards the ceiling. He attempted to control his breathing but was struggling to do so. Turning back towards her, “So Zhang knows about this?”

              “Yes sir,” Boggiano said defiantly.

              “Wait a second,” he grabbed the papers from the table, “If they were all destroyed, how did you get this?”

              She smiled, “I have my ways Mr. President.”

              He stopped, and then smiled cleverly, “You got this from Jon Pacer didn’t you? That bank safety deposit box?”

              Shocked by what he had just said, “How did you know about that?”

              He patted his hand on the papers, “I have my ways, Ms. Boggiano,” he winked at her, “Thank you for bring this to my attention though. I will look into it, and see what headway I can make on it.”

              Rove stood up, but Boggiano did not follow suit. Going back for her bag she pulled out something else, “Mr. President, I have something else I want to talk to you about.” Xavier sat back down with a rather peeved look on his face as she placed a black binder on the table. He instantly recognized the seal on the front.

              “The Virtagwallan Gold Depository?” He remarked reaching for the book. However this time, instead of allowing him to handle it, she batted his hand away.

              “Technically I am not allowed to show you the contents of this document. The law says I am only permitted to show the contents of this binder to the person for whom I am representing to the Board of Director,” she gave him a sassy smile, and he rolled his eyes, “But I figured I could show you something, not in the report, but about the report that I think you would find interesting.”

              She opened the binder and revealed the study about the future deposits of gold on the island she had requested to take during the previous Directors meeting. She proceeded to show him the two maps that were presented to the investors, and highlighted the biggest difference being them was the disappearance of Winter’s shaft, and its potential gold deposits.

              “Winter’s Shaft. Isn’t that under Mount Sallis?” Xavier asked flipping back and forth between the two pictures.

              “You are familiar with it?” Boggiano asked surprised, “It is under Mount Sallis, and interestingly the closest Mount and subsequent shaft to Ponchertrain. I’ve come to find after doing a bit of research, Winter’s shaft actually comes within 10 feet of the underwater cliff face. Meaning that part of this shaft is under the far western most parts of the city of Ponchertrain.”

              “I know. Believe it or not, I have actually been in Winter’s shaft,” he sighed, “My son had a Boy Scout trip to this mine a couple years ago. It’s an interesting shaft because at the entrance there are two shafts: a vertical shaft and a downward shaft. The vertical shaft doesn’t go very far, but instead of going down under ground you go up into the mount,” he studied Boggiano’s face, who gave him a dull stare. He quipped, “Well I found it interesting at least.”

              “Vertical or downward shafts aren’t entirely what I wanted you to gather from this picture,” she stammered, “What I want you to notice is the massive absence of all the gold that the most recent study contains. This absence is what lead to the majority of VirtGold’s half a trillion dollar write down.”

              “Ok so their first study was wrong, what are you getting all concerned about? I swear you have been to one Board meeting, as a witness nonetheless, and you are already a bleeding heart for the company,” Rove joked.

              “The reason I am concerned, and the reason I bring this fact to your attention is this,” flipping the binder back to the beginning, Rove read the page she had flipped to, and suddenly looked at her.

              “This study was conducted by VORC?” Rove’s face began to drain its color.

              “Yes, the Virtagwallan Oil Refinery Corporation,” Boggiano exclaimed.

              “What do you know about VORC?” He asked quickly.

              “All those years ago, when President Chipulta decided we would abandon fossil fuels, the Parliament established VORC. VORC’s purpose was to continue to provide Virtagwalla with oil and gasoline to power military vehicles, and other like machines that would require fossil fuels to operate. Although most people think we get a shipment of oil every couple months, the truth is we are still refining oil on this island, even to this day,” Boggiano said, “And they are making billions of dollars a year in profit too.”

              Rove turned his head, “If we are still feeding our military machine with oil, and we are still receiving shipments of crude oil, and refining, why had I never heard of this company before just a couple weeks ago?” he thought back to the reception. Almost instantly his mind shifted to the disturbing phone call he received from Tanya Handel.

              “Well that’s easy to explain Mr. President. Because you were never meant to hear of it,” Chen glanced down at her hands, “Very few people know of this corporation’s existence. Even though its operations are funded by the government’s budget.”

              “I have been over the budget numerous amounts times. I never ever remember seeing VORC mentioned once in it. Neither has Sensado, and she knows that budget like the back of her hand,” Rove exasperated.

              “Its there. You just aren’t looking at the right parts.”

Xavier wasn’t getting it, “What parts aren’t we looking at? Is there a secret part of the budget that we aren’t getting? Because that would explain so much!”

Chen smiled a dubious grin, “In a way yes. VORC is buried deep in the part of the budget reserved for the programs contained under the Social Net,” Boggiano leaned back on the couch, watching as the information sunk into Rove’s mind.

              It was as if light bulb turned on it Xavier’s head. His thoughts were horrible, almost painful. Yet he couldn’t help but verbalize them, “They have been hiding it. Haven’t they?” He asked as he watched her head nodded up and down, “Am I to assume that Artimus has something to do with this as well?”

              “He was the minister that proposed its creation, and he currently sits on its board of directors,” she said leaning forward, “What I am so disturbed about was that when I approached him about this study being done by a Government backed corporation and its validity, he threatened me and my career. I would be more than happy to take this public, but of all people on this island I just can not trust him,” she paused, “Or what he may be capable of.”

              Rove stood up attempting to organize his thoughts. He crossed his arms and ambled towards his window. Gazing out, something nagged at his mind. He couldn’t put his finger on it. The pieces were coming together, his gut was right. Something was unfolding around him, and although it was becoming clearer, he still couldn’t see. Not yet at least. Turning back to Boggiano, she broke the silence, “Were you in attendance to review Sensado’s report on the economy?”

              Shaking his head, “No I wasn’t. I was in Australia. I did read a transcript of it though,” He explained, returning to the couch.

              Boggiano grabbed the newspaper from his coffee table, “I also was able to obtain a copy. The shit they published in the Virtagwallan Times based on the Parliament’s brief for the media is nothing like what she said. I don’t understand, why is the government extorting the media and making things sound not nearly as bad as they really are?”