The Variables

“My son says that you are Lucy’s father,” the woman said, turning her full attention to Scott. “Is that right?”

Scott put his hand against his pocket and counted. One. Two. Three. Then he decided against answering her. He kept his mouth shut. She took his silence as an invitation for mockery.

“Lucky Lucy,” Mrs. Brikham said in a singsong voice. “And her little boyfriend...Grant. Oh yeah, we heard all about that little fiasco. Is that one of the perks of being on the Board? Grandfathering in outsiders despite the rules.” She turned her head to Huck, her eyes sharpened like talons. “I have one child. And this man,” she jerked her head to Scott, “has six. And you wouldn’t even let me save my niece? Denied her despite my pleas to save her. But you let that other child come, right? Someone else’s child was brought from the outside, but you wouldn’t let my family live? She was two years old. You let her die...”

The Board members watched the conversation unfold with rapt attention. Someone whispered, “They found a child?”

“It was a slippery slope,” Huck answered without emotion. “I am deeply sorry, but I must ask…where would it have ended? How many people could we realistically saved before this place and the places around the world became unsustainable? We made decisions for our future.” He pushed his index finger into the table, the tip turned white, and he breathed heavily out of his nostrils. “I did what was best for the future of society. You ca

From the screen, Victor had raised his hand, and waited for acknowledgment. When Huck motioned for him to speak, he looked perplexed. “Excuse me if I am speaking out of turn, but we are in the dark. You found survivors?”

Huck nodded, his entire face tense, and he put up a hand to quell the anticipated backlash.

“I will address that secondary issue at a later time,” Huck replied through a tight smile. He could feel his tenuous grasp slipping, the balance shifting from his favor. “Mr. Brikham has proposed that we allow the Board to be an elected position...along with treating our financial benefactors as celebrities, as they are accustomed. And that is clearly the more pressing matter.”

“Is that a joke?” someone asked.

“Perhaps it was sarcasm,” another answered.

“We turned a blind eye to late arrivals...like you asked,” Mueez replied. He turned to Shay, the second board member in the Saudi System and they began to confer in low voices.

Eugene, watched the buzz and fiery debate spring up around him on the screens and he sat straighter in his chair, waiting for a moment to jump back into the conversation. His wife patted him on the back, but he didn’t acknowledge her touch or her presence; he just stared intently at the screen and then at the people in the room, the side of his mouth twitching.

Scott felt his insides go watery. He tapped his foot against the floor and kept his eyes trained on the wall.

From several feet away, Claude turned and looked at him. “Easy, friend,” he said in a whisper.

Scott didn’t need to know all the moves in Huck’s game of chess to know that from the moment Eugene Brikham opened his mouth he had already lost this game. The vials in his pocket said so. If Brikham had wanted to prolong his fight, he should have come to the Board with the issue of survivors as his primary objective. The Elektos Board required transparency to run well, and Huck’s nondisclosure of Lucy, Grant, Ethan, and Teddy’s presence was more damaging than Brikham might have realized.

Huck had underestimated the Brikhams’ ability to cause damage in their wake. He would win, but they would make him pay all the same.

“Eugene Brikham,” Huck said in a loud voice. Among the chaos of the Board’s inquisition, Huck had pulled out a manila file, and he began reading the contents in a steady, unyielding voice, commanding those to listen. “Felony assault. You attacked a young man at a party with broken bottle.”

Eugene laughed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You have a file on me? Oh, that is rich. You knew everything about me when you approached me as a partner. You want to talk crime? Let’s talk about crime. I got nothing compared to you, Boss.”

Huck continued without pausing. He flicked through the papers. “Sexual harassment.” He lifted his eyes. “Rape.”

Immediately, Eugene’s laugh disappeared and he leaned forward. “No,” he pointed his finger at Huck. “No. Not true.”

“That bitch lied,” Mrs. Brikham said, and she crossed her arms, too, sticking her lip out in a pout. “Tell him, Eugene. Tell him how she blackmailed you.”

“She was after my money,” the man said matter-of-factly. “That was expunged, anyway. It’s old news.”

“They had DNA proof,” Huck said. He squinted at the text and then looked up, “A whole file on it. Your DNA under her fingernails. Pictures of your scratched face.”

Eugene turned white, but his eyes flashed pure fury. “That’s not in any file,” he said. “You’re lying.” The big man stood up and the chair toppled behind him. Gordy stepped forward and set it upright; even though he was several inches shorter, he stood behind him, making his presence felt.

“It’s most certainly your file. Paying corrupt cops to destroy evidence does not prevent it from reappearing. Especially when I have the best of the best working for me. You think you’re the only one whose services I needed and paid for? People like you disgust me. Read it for yourself. The truth about you is a heartbeat away...there is no escaping it.” Huck closed the folder and placed it on the table, then he put his palm on top and pushed it forward; it slid and stopped within Eugene’s reach.

“That was a different life. You said it yourself,” Eugene replied in a whisper. He eyed the folder, but didn’t go after it. “We’re here now. Things are different.”

“No, we said your money is of no use to us anymore. It doesn’t gain you power or privilege or help you escape the law,” Gordy clarified. Eugene jolted and turned, surprised to see him standing there.

“My son is right. Character lasts forever.”

Eugene put both hands on the boardroom table and leaned forward. “Character? You want to talk about character? You’re a man who killed the world. I’m sorry, so sorry...depopulated. Isn’t that the word you used with me? Does it help you sleep at night when you say it like that? You have a piece of paper in a file that means nothing. And that girl is dead. You were the one who made sure of that. Decomposing in her living room, for all I care. She’s a non-factor. I built this place!”

“No,” Claude replied, now standing, too. “I built this place. And you should sit, my son. Before you do something you regret.”

Turning his attention to the tall black man before him, Eugene eyed him with disdain before plopping himself back down.

Scott exhaled.

The faces on the screens were riveted, unmoving. They watched the drama unfold like a teleplay, afraid to interrupt.

“That girl is dead. And deserves to rot,” Eugene mumbled from his chair. “How dare you walk her into this.”

The words hit Huck and he recoiled. He rose from his seat and walked with steady footsteps to Scott and put his hand on his shoulder.

“It’s time,” Huck said in a small voice.

Hesitating, Scott let his hand hover his pocket. “I can’t, Huck,” Scott replied in a calm voice. He had been practicing the words in his head for the last ten minutes. “It’s not the same.”

From the corner, Blair shifted in her seat and strained to hear. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her hand poised above her notepad. The monitors hummed, someone cleared a throat, another rustled papers.