Rows upon rows of journalists and reporters looked expectantly up at the podium where Jehan sat, flanked on either side by his colleagues and team members. None of them were happy about being dragged into this, and were probably cursing the day they had met Jehan. He supposed he should feel sorry for putting them in this position. But his capacity for guilt was already exhausted for the day.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he had asked them to lie for him. All they had to do was tell the truth – or what they knew of the truth – about recent events at the Institute. The media would draw its own conclusions after that. None of them would have to say a thing.
Sitting up straight, Jehan pulled the microphone closer to his lips. He cleared his throat, wishing he had a deeper voice, or at least one that didn't make him sound like he was fifteen. Looking like a college freshman had its advantages in certain situations, but this wasn’t one of them.
In fact, this was one of the reasons why he had always left the administrative side of things to Dileep, and when possible, even to Rajat. People who had never worked with him often had a hard time taking Jehan seriously. Not that he blamed them. He had spent a considerable amount of time and effort cultivating an image that would be hard to take seriously. A task that was made infinitely easier by the fact that, at twenty-seven, Jehan could easily pass for eighteen.
Being underestimated and patronized had its uses, not the least of which was the fact that people always felt compelled to pay for his meals at dinner meetings. But there were times when it could be a drawback too. And a press conference where he was to accuse several high-ranking ministers, not to mention the Prime Minister of the country, of corruption and negligence, was one of those times.
Oh well, no point in breaking character now. In his experience, it always paid to play to your strengths. Inhaling deeply – and making sure that the microphone caught the shakiness of his breath – Jehan began. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. I would like to thank you all for joining us here today.
“My colleagues and I at the Qayit Research Institute have, after long deliberation, decided to call this meeting because we feel that some things are happening at the Institute, as well as in the country at large, that should be shared with the people of the nation…”
He let his voice trail off, allowing his nervousness and discomfort to shine through. He wasn’t a public speaker, he was a scientist. Nobody expected him to be good at this. Too much confidence right now would do more harm than good. The best lies, after all, had a basis in truth.
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“As you all know, we have been working on a high priority project for the central government for quite a few years now. The development of the Amven drug has been underway for almost a decade at this point, although details about the project have been kept from the public…for security reasons.”
He let that hang in the air for a few seconds, letting them wonder whether or not he was telling the truth. Then he continued. “After the heinous terror attacks at the metro last month, the government has been putting tremendous pressure on me and my colleagues to get the Amven drug ready for clinical trials. From what I understand, the first batch of the drug is to be used on the terror suspects who have been apprehended so far. Of course, we have done everything in our power to cooperate.
“However, despite our best efforts, the fact of the matter is that Amven is not ready for testing yet. At its present stage of development, the drug is quite volatile and its effects are unpredictable. As the lead scientist working on the project, I can say that testing the Amven drug, in its current state, on human subjects can be incredibly dangerous, and not just for the subjects themselves.
“Based on our research so far, we have reason to believe that the drug could bring about psychological and uh…physiological changes in the subject that might prove dangerous to those around them. As my colleagues will tell you,” he paused to glance at Ehsana and Saket, both of whom were sitting stiffly to his right. “We have tried time and again to explain our concerns to the relevant authorities. However, our attempts at a discussion have been repeatedly thwarted, blocked, and ignored at the highest levels of the administration.
“And with the leaked financial reports and bank records, the corruption that has come to light recently, implicating some of the highest ranked ministers in the Prime Minister’s Cabinet…” Jehan sighed, carefully emphasizing the last few words. “We feel that we must inform the public about our concerns, not only regarding the use of the Amven drug, but also about the fact that there might be individuals in the government who have a…vested interest, shall we say, in having this volatile drug used on suspects who might have vital information about those who planned and funded these attacks on our soil…”
Jehan stopped talking, and all hell broke loose. Reporters jumped forward with their questions, talking over each other in their bid to be heard. Cameras flashed and clicked from various corners of the room. On either side of him, Ehsana, Saket, Navis, and Rayani were bombarded with questions, even as many of their answers were drowned out by the questions that followed.
Jehan answered some of the questions directed at him, while ignoring others with a smile. Did he think there was an international conspiracy against Naijan? Was the Prime Minister in on the conspiracy? Were there traitors in the Cabinet? Would there be an impeachment? What role would the Institute play in it all?
He answered some of their questions, but his task for the day was already over. The board had been set. All that was left now was for the players to assemble.
All that was left was for him to face Rajat and see the betrayal in his eyes.