Succession (31 page)

Argova points them out to me like this is a common occurrence, like he facilitates political meetings every day. I wonder if perhaps he does, but I don’t ask why that would be. Officially, the Argova family deals in pharmaceuticals and medical supplies. Oliver Torenze uses the same industry terms to categorize his role in the underground organ trade; I can only assume that the Argova family is just as involved, if not more. Given the scope of Emile Argova’s connections, I would imagine that the family’s unofficial business is involved in far more than the drug trade. They might let the disposable street gangs, like the 27s, take care of the risky business, but the Argova family is clearly in charge of more than just political socializing.

When he finishes, he gives me an encouraging smile.

“What do you get out of this?” I ask, unable to contain myself.

“Oh, I like to connect friends,” Argova mentions, still casual. “But once Michaud & Torenze gets on its feet, you might consider making our company the exclusive partner for medical supplies and disposal.”

I hesitate for a moment. “My business partner typically handles that end.”

“Mr. Torenze will be adequately addressed. We would see that all his needs are met.”

I nod. “You do seem like a good match.”

Argova nods. “I’ll let you be on your way, Mr. Michaud. It was a pleasure speaking with you again.”

Amazed, and a little confused, I follow his advice and make my way around, visiting the people he’s advised me to visit. They discuss plans freely, asking me about my project, what my plans for restructuring the re-education centers would include, invite me for future meetings. There is a surreal quality to it all, like everyone else knows something I don’t. I wish Sascha was next to me, analyzing and remembering everything, but I know we can accomplish more if we’re apart.

Cash has sent me to spy on his guests, an arrangement that we’ve perfected during our time together. It’s strange, because in the past we’ve had to spend so much time being secretive. Today, the focus is on us, on our project, and nobody seems to mind that we’re blatantly talking about overthrowing the Miller System.

In fact, most seem to support it.

“This new system will generate a number of new revenue systems,” one person suggests.

“It’s about damn time the Miller System went away,” another mentions, a statement that would have been considered treasonous just months ago.

“I hear he’s got some questionable connections, but who doesn’t these days? Besides, Michaud is nice to look at. I wouldn’t mind seeing him on billboards.” It’s hard not to laugh at these sorts of statements, but I suppose it’s only fitting. Cash has come across as quite the personality.

While I our guests were mostly hand-picked, it surprises me that there is no mention of Cash’s past. Nobody has made the connection, even though he’s “nice to look at.” I’ve seen pictures of him from his first venture into this world, though, and he did look different. He’s aged over the years, and much of the official coverage has been destroyed. At least Kristine did some things right. The few criticisms I hear have more to do with regulations than anything; the amount of time and resources it might take to put a new system into place, the potential international fallout when the extent of the corruption within the Miller System really gets exposed. Our guests talk freely around me, but they know who I am. I hear them commenting on “Michaud’s arm candy” and I smile like I have nothing better to do than gracefully accept compliments and wait for someone to need another drink.

I get alarmed when I see someone approaching Sy. There’s little reason for any of our potential sponsors to speak directly to me, even less reason for them to interact with him.

I know he’s supposed to be guarding me, and it’s not like I have any means of defending him, but I make my way over, anyway. If anything, I can witness what is about to happen.

The man stands just a few inches from Sy, not looking at him, pretending not to engage. But he does.

“Syrus. Mr. Argova brought me here today. He’s asked me to tell you personally that you’re safe. Any dispute between us… it’s over.”

“Yes, sir,” Sy replies, looking uncomfortable. He glances first at Cash, then at me, satisfying himself that we’re safe. While Cash is busy chatting up some senator, I make eye contact with Sy. I’ll cause a commotion if this man so much as looks at him wrong.

“It was business,” the man says, shrugging.

Sy just nods.

“We would like to conduct more business with your master,” the man begins. “Mr. Argova will facilitate any agreements of course.”

I see Sy frown, but before I can hear his response, my arm is grabbed in a familiar way.

Torenze smiles as he pulls me along with him. I don’t fight him, mostly because I know it will make my master, and therefore our project, look bad.

“How close are we to having the fully analyzed data?” he asks.

I can’t help the curious look I give him. While he’s fully aware of my role in this project, even Cash doesn’t discuss it so blatantly in front of others.

“I’ve had a few potential sponsors ask me about it,” he clarifies, dropping his voice a little. “They want to know how soon this data will be ready, whether it will be out before the trial or not.”

I’m surprised, because I haven’t heard anyone else mentioning that, but maybe they are discussing different things with Torenze than with my master.

“It will definitely be ready before the trial, sir. A few weeks at most. We’ve hired someone new, someone reliable, and they’re almost finished with it.”

I don’t tell him that our new data analyst is someone Cash knew from his old position at Dean & Chanu, because I like knowing things that he doesn’t. The analyst’s skills aren’t as strong as mine, but I’ve checked his work and his skills are adequate. Even better, he’s loyal, and nobody but Cash and I know he’s working with us. He’s the perfect person to present our research in public, but until our results are ready for release, we’re keeping any information about him to ourselves. The less Torenze knows, the safer I feel. I’m surprised that he’s even interested. He’s kept himself somewhat distanced from our project so far.

“Do you know who Cashiel is talking to?” Torenze asks, frowning. “I can’t seem to keep up with him, these days.”

I don’t, and I’m glad, because it’s easier for me to keep things from Torenze. “No, sir. I think he’s just mingling.”

Torenze makes a dissatisfied sound, but he turns his focus back to me rather quickly. He has a smile on his face, the kind that promises I will soon be miserable at his hand. “Will you be visiting me soon? I do miss spending time with you. And I’d hate to have to investigate that little story you told me about.”

I try not to look as disturbed as I feel. I speak quietly, just in case anyone is listening. “You promised you’d give me a few weeks to recover. I’ll hold up my end of the agreement. So will my master.”

“And your big friend?” Torenze taunts, eyeing up Sy. From the looks of it, he’s just finished whatever conversation he was having with the man who approached him earlier. I’m relieved that he is moving our way

“He’ll be there, as requested.”

“I do look forward to playing with you again,” Torenze whispers in my ear, making my skin crawl.

Sy comes over, a blank expression on his face. “Excuse me, sir. My master has requested Sascha’s presence.”

Torenze frowns. “For what?”

“I wasn’t given that information, sir,” Sy replies. Nothing else; just that. With nothing to argue against, Torenze has no choice but to let me leave.

I try not to look like I’m running to Sy’s side, but I am. Torenze scowls as we leave, but he’s far too proper to follow two slaves around. He turns and makes his way to a small group of potential sponsors, hiding the fact that he just let Sy pull me away.

“What does Cash want?” I ask, once Sy and I are on our way to Cash.

Sy shrugs, the slightest smile crossing his face. “I assume he wants you away from his business partner.”

We check in with Cash, who seems perfectly content with being used as my cover. He shows me off to a few of the people he’s talking to, then sends me on my way again. We are making amazing connections, but I don’t trust Argova the way the Cash does. It makes me uncomfortable that my master is so easily led along by someone else, someone who seems to have no reason to care about us or our project beyond the money it can bring to his organization. Torenze is enough of a threat; I’m not sure how we’ll be able to handle a bigger one should it arise.

Chapter 27
Betrayal

Things seem to be going well after our sponsorship event. The first indication that anything is wrong comes when my lawyer coms me.

“Mr. Michaud,” Edson addresses me, an irritated tone rousing me from my comfortable sleep with Sascha. “Have you seen the news?”

I glance first at Sascha’s sleeping body, envious of him, and then check the time. It’s well-past noon, a side-effect of being mostly unemployed and sexually satisfied on a regular basis.

“No,” I admit, since I assume she’s going to tell me anyway. “Has there been anything about the case?”

Edson sighs. “It’s all about the case. Who have you been talking to? You’re all over the news.”

“The sponsorship event?” I ask, confused. I was under the impression that had gone well.

“The issue of your slave not only having access to your data and a tablet, but releasing that data without your knowledge. The fact that your research shows that your Demoted test subjects from this study and the one you did before scored better than non-Demoted test subjects.”

I’m stunned. I’ve told her these details already, but last I heard, they weren’t public knowledge, or even rumor. “How did that get out?”

“No idea,” Edson admits. “But you need to find out. Who have you told about this?”

I consider it. “You, Oliver, my mother. Sascha knows, of course, but he wouldn’t do a thing to harm the project. Or himself.”

“I’d rather not see this case destroyed,” Edson reminds me. “We’ve put too much work into it and too many people are counting on it to succeed. You need to figure this out.”

“It had to have been my mother. It’s always my mother.”

“Get a handle on it, Mr. Michaud. Your case is coming up. The last thing we need is a public scandal.”

She hangs up, and I get out of bed. I don’t need to wake Sascha, not just yet. I check my security systems; the alarms are set and ready to activate, my security team is visible from the window. I begin to scan the news, verifying what Edson just told me. As she described, my face is everywhere: there are speculations that my data has been tampered with, that my slave is “taking control” of my project, that my end goals are to sabotage the entire Demoted system. I read a few of the articles until they anger me too much, and then I curse and close the news screens. Everything inside of my house is in place, but the outside world is a different story.

I place a call to my mother.

“I saw you on the morning news today,” she answers. She doesn’t sound pleased.

“Don’t act surprised,” I mutter.

My mother laughs. “Cash, do you really think it was me? What purpose would that serve?”

“Undermining me. Making me look bad.” I try to think of another reason, but I come up empty-handed. It doesn’t make sense that she would reveal this, not now. But she’s so often a step ahead of me.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been forbidden to speak with the press,” my mother reminds me. “My own board of directors put a gag order on me. You think the state officials are bad, wait until you have an angry board of investors breathing down your neck. The last speech I made was written for me, tele-prompted, and delayed before airing. I can’t sneeze in public without approval.”

“You know people,” I remind her. “You could make this information come out if you really wanted to.”

“I’ve told you before, Cash, I don’t want to hurt you. Everything you’ve released about me is true. The more you release, the worse I look, the worse my company looks. My best bet is that you’ll have pity on me.”

I scoff. “Unfortunately, my mother never taught me about pity.”

“I know this is hard to hear, especially from me, but I’m telling you this for your own good. Look somewhere else. I have bigger problems than your little pet.”

My mother hangs up on me, surprising me again. It’s rare to see her in such a damaged position, so vulnerable. I look through the news more closely, seeing what other rumors have cropped up.

An hour later, I come across something that makes me wonder if my mother’s words were true. It’s a tabloid article, so few people have given it much attention, but it’s a piece of our data that hadn’t been released. A piece that my mother’s team had missed in their raid of the house, because it had been hidden on Oliver’s servers. We’ve been using it since I was released from prison and it’s helping to strengthen our case, especially since we are the only ones privy to the information. Whether Kristine was telling stories to the press or not, there is no way she could have had access to this information. I curse, loudly, and I read it again, making sure there is no way I could have misinterpreted it.