"Welcome to our special program for this month: powerful women. Our episode today features Madeleine Clark. Madeleine has made it to the top 10 most influential women in the United States of America for five years in a row. Madeleine, welcome!" The presenter smiles widely.
Madeleine smiles back and waves at the camera. They are on Madeleine's office, facing each other, and the rest of the camera crew stands around them.
"Madeleine, you are the CEO of Clark Industries and the president of the Institute, a position that you hold since January 2018. For those at home that aren't aware of your story, you were an orphan until Hunter David Clark adopted you.... and here you are today! One of the most influential. Making that list every year."
"Yes, thank you! I'm the living proof that you can reach your dreams if you work hard enough. Little girls everywhere can dream!" Madeleine claps.
When the show airs in a few weeks, surely little girls everywhere will wonder how exactly they can work hard enough to become orphans that are adopted by billionaires.
"You are such an example of resilience! Your father died when you were only six, and all your other seven siblings are also dead. You are the last one standing." Martha smiles while facing her.
"Martha, I think you were misled by some source. One of my brothers did die on the same day as my father, both brutally murdered by a burglar, but all my other siblings are alive and well. They just don't care much about the boring business!" She laughs.
"I was guaranteed some killed themselves and others died of overdose," Martha checks her tablet.
Why the difference? Isn't an overdose just the means to suicide?
"As I said..." Madeleine smiles, "you were misled."
"Moving on, then, how do you deal with the criticism that Clark Industries doesn't have a single deviant employee?"
"I deal with it perfectly well. It's true that we don't have deviants working for us, but it's only because we have the same employees for decades, they are happy to work for us. And the latest jobs we opened are for graduate and post-grad degrees. In our country, and in our neighbors, a deviant can't go to university, and even on Eurasia it's only a reality for 3 years now. How can I employ deviants if they don't meet the requirements? Should I make an exemption for them? Is that equality?"
Martha tries to interrupt her.
"But the biggest reason that I won't accept that criticism is because I work for free as the president of the Institute. As you said, for ten years now. Making sure that deviants are well taken care of."
"Deviants with abilities. Deviants without it can't apply to study there."
"Obviously. It's an education that specializes on teaching deviants to properly use their abilities. It's not discrimination, it's the purpose of it. Now, I'm terribly sorry but I do have to cut this interview short. My CFO has called me too many times already," she checks her phone and stands up.
The camera crew leaves. Martha packs her things and rushes to meet Madeleine.
"Madeleine, I'm sorry if I pushed a bit too hard! You know how audiences work! They'll love this and I knew that you'd deal with it exceptionally."
"Of course, Martha." Madeleine brushes her shoulder. "You are a wonderful reporter, it's a shame that you are stuck on this sort of interviews, you are far better than this. But you are what, 29? A few more years and the opportunity to show all your talent will appear. I'm sure. I must really go now."
"Thank you! I have to go as well. I'm heading to the Roberts' for their interviews."
"Lovely. Take care, Martha."
Madeleine leaves the floor through her elevator; her chauffeur waits for her. She enters the car and activates a soundproof system. Her phone connects to the speakers and a man answers the call.
"I thought we had an agreement. When I supported you, took your excuse of a paper from the gutter, you guaranteed me that my family's story would never see the daylight. You supposedly buried it. And now your own reporter comes at me? Kill the story, fire her, make sure she won't write or utter another word for the rest of her life... not even on a show at five in the morning or I'll destroy you. My family is off limits."
***
"Emily, I can't even imagine the toll that your responsibilities have taken on you. The events of the Day of Peace and recently the massacre at the Institute. How do you deal with it all?"
Martha sits in front of Emily, who is next to Mary and Thomas. Several renowned designers lined up to dress them. They all wear light colors.
"It's an honor to be the world's most powerful deviant, Martha. Despite everything that happened in the past few months," Emily reads from the teleprompter, "we are trying to build a better world, a society in which humans no longer have to grieve their loved ones because of the hatred of the deviants."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Emily takes a deep breath and they all smile.
"Rachel Moore can put on a mask and say that she wants peace, but she's nothing but a devil. Peace won't be achieved through assassinations. Now... a new group exists... tried to kill me!" She stares at the camera, wiping a tear.
Thomas holds tight his daughter's hand, and she smiles back at him.
"But to them, all that I have to say is your reign of terror is over. Love will prevail. Peace will find a way."
"Mary, Emily is a superstar, but so are you. Congratulations on being named one of the most powerful businesswomen in the States. Your company is thriving. How many deviants do you employ?"
"Cher, 10% of our staff is deviant. Everyone there works well together! Our employees are looking forward for the bracelet one day to be of general use. They want to be part of a better society!"
Thomas leans his head on his daughter's shoulder. They all smile. The cameras stop rolling, and Emily excuses herself from the room. She goes to her bedroom, puts water running and cries while taking a long bath. Her mind overflows with everything that Rachel showed her. How her brother is connected to what happened on that day on the Institute. And one question remains unanswered: was her father behind it?
As soon as the camera crew leaves, Mary calls her son into her office.
"Joshua, starting on Monday, you'll come to work with me."
"Why would I go there? I already have a job with dad."
"Your father told me what you were up to. I wondered, after you finished college, why the interest in working for the Council. You could've chosen anywhere," she sighs, "now I know why. Just so you could explore your fetish. I bet you loved it, son," her tone sharpens, "but if you want to be honest with yourself, all this hatred isn't against deviants. It is against us: me and your father."
Joshua refuses to confront his mother's stare. She comes closer, grabs his chin, and makes him.
"Now, you ungrateful brat," she carves her nails on his skin, "don't want to work with me... fine, don't. Find someplace else to and try to find the opportunity to stop hating deviants while you're at it. You will never set foot again there!"
"You can't stop me. It's my work!"
"Not anymore, Joshua. You're lucky to be alive, see it as a second chance, and find something useful to fill your life with."
"You and dad..." he removes her hand from his chin and takes a step back, "are nothing but hypocrites."
In one sweep, Mary slaps him. Her ring cuts his cheek. Tears fill his eyes, more from the shock of it rather than the pain. She had never touched him before.
"When you were in my womb, son... I felt an excruciating pain," she wipes the blood from his face with her palm, "I thought that I had lost you. Perhaps it was just all your hate trying to kill me. Do whatever you want with your life, but never forget one thing: we outnumber you here."
"Just admit it. Say it!" He bites his lips and curls his fists. "You hate that I'm human!"
"Keep your voice down!" Her stare is enough for him to obey.
"I have been a disappointment to you ever since I tested negative," he whispers now. "You wanted a tool to use, and I wasn't useful. That's what everyone said on the building when they thought I wasn't listening."
"Hate that you're human? I hate that I'm deviant! You have no idea how much we've gone through because of the gene. You have it so easy, son!" She approaches him and keeps her voice low.
He takes a few steps back until hitting the desk. She comes even closer and holds his face.
"Being human is a blessing, Joshua. I could've achieved so much with my life earlier than I did if I wasn't a deviant. Do you think it was easy being born before the war? Growing up in the exact moments before it? When we couldn't even hold property, have a job? I would've died of hunger or worked as a prostitute to just survive. The war was the best thing to happen to me, I found a life-vest with the humans. They wanted us, Joshua. People that were willing to fight off their own."
Tears fill his eyes while he tries to push his mother away.
"I love you, son... I do." She stands back and crosses her arms. "But don't you dare messing up everything we've worked so hard to accomplish."
On Monday, Mary smiles when her son joins her for his first day at work. She proudly shows him around, introducing him to everyone: deviants and humans alike.
His entire body stiffens when he has to shake a deviants' hand. It was a fall from grace, one that he had to take. He couldn't exactly hurt his parents by exposing them online or to Emily without implicating himself. He had no savings of his own as well and was always one phone call away from being locked out of his accounts. His friends were all dead and by the request of Thomas and Saif, Marianne's advisor, Aymee Ortiz, removed his memories of how to get there.
***
It's a lovely Sunday morning. Abigail waits for her parents' arrival from China. She orders lunch from their favorite Thai place and surprises them with a set up table.
"How was the trip?"
"Great, we had such a delightful time there! Their institute is so well developed, and they have finally accepted to be part of our program!" Mark serves himself some noodles.
"I recently realized that I show no interest in our affairs, and I'm sorry, I'll do better. Who takes care of that?"
"Of what?"
"Of the programs. The national, the international. All the funding. The follow-up, the reports. Seems like so much work!"
"It is! And you know us, Abigail, we're terrible with numbers," Rebecca says.
They all laugh, a sincere one, but worrisome coming from Abigail.
"We oversaw it a bit at the beginning of the war. But eventually left it to the professionals who understand business and investments. And it was for the best! We are much more useful being just the faces." Mark fills his glass with water.
"And who does it? I haven't met our team..."
"Of course you have. Mary's company is in charge. She heads the team." Rebecca slurps her noodles.
"They take care of it, the percentage of funding that goes to each program, how is being invested, the reports. It works so well." Mark tries to steal some of Rebecca's food.
"She invited us to go there today, but we were too tired from the trip... and next weekend we won't be here. We should invite them over when we come back!"
"You're heading out?"
"Yes, from Thursday to Monday. We have a charity gala in Paris," Mark finally steals Rebecca's food and she pretends to be mad.
Abigail tries her best to hide her nerves, clenching the fork, smiling and keeping the conversation light, about the sightseeing, plans for their winter vacations, when would Veronica and Zachary visit or if they would be the ones meeting them.
The Roberts have control over the entirety of our patrimony. More wealth than several countries own. All that overseen only by them... Either her parents didn't care, were too naive or were part of it.