The view from the top floors of TG Tower had long been a reminder to Desmond of how far he'd risen; now, even in the bathed in sunrise, it insisted on how far he'd have to fall if everything came crumbling down. Given the events of the past five hours, he could forgive himself for having the thought.
Still, he tucked it away for review during a quieter moment and stepped out of the elevator and onto the executive floor.
"Mister Saidi." The slim young receptionist stood up and put on a brave face; Mariska, was it? She'd come all the way from Budapest to start her career here just two weeks ago, and she'd already spent a night locked down with assassins potentially right outside. She was strong, holding back stress tears for so long.
"You don't have to stay here any longer," he said. "Security's cleared us to go back to normal."
"I know, but it didn't feel right leaving Miss Mkapa alone since . . ." She waggled her hands in the air.
"That's good of you, but you should get some rest now that I'm here."
She blinked as if not understanding. He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.
"We're safe now. Take the day off, I'll explain to Miss Mkapa."
She choked back a sob, nodded and gathered up her things, methodically locking the drawers of her desk and reviewing everything through the hot salt water rimming her eyes but not falling.
"Okay. Have a good day."
She held up better than anyone could ask. Provided she comes back tomorrow, she'll go far.
Once she'd disappeared into the elevator, Desmond switched off the main overhead lights, pausing one moment to observe the silverglow playing across the walls before he stepped into Akilah's office. She lay on her couch, propped up by two cushions, one arm across her forehead, the other holding a few pages over her.
"Miss Mkapa."
She turned with a languor she only allowed herself with him. "Have you been to see Cain yet?"
"Briefly. He was only lucid for a few minutes, but his condition stabilized quickly enough."
"Good, I'll pay him a visit shortly, too. Sit," she said, gesturing to a chair on the opposite side of her table. "More importantly, how is X taking it?"
"Best-case scenario, really," Desmond said, taking her offer and folding his hands on one knee. "Worried; upset, obviously, but no erratic behavior."
"Mm. And I just got off the phone with DeWitt about fifteen minutes ago saying we're all clear on the security front."
"Yes."
"So what do you have to tell me that's got you looking so somber?" She sat upright, placed the papers on the table and took off her reading glasses.
"A friend of ours informed me that the Tyrolian League and a few of their satellite provinces just attacked Ljubljana Free State forces and are driving into their territory. There are Remnant Vigilants mixed in with their soldiers."
She reclined back into the couch and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
"So, that's it then. It's already starting. I suppose it was the inevitable follow up after this assassination stunt."
"We can expect violence to open up on more fronts soon," Desmond said.
"One of those fronts is going to be here," Akilah said. "Madness. All right, I'm going to call Isaya and the others; first priority is ensuring that we're on the same page with our defense strategy. You'll round up all the senior Cain-Doppler personnel for a meeting; we're going to have to shift focus to military applications for the time being, so we may as well get that conversation over with quickly."
"Understood. What about Cain?"
"This may be a blessing in disguise, really. He's out of commission during a crisis scenario. We'll use the first meeting to start building on the reputation Doppler has with the engineers so we can push him to the front. We need to get X involved directly, too, start getting him independent from Cain."
"It will be a delicate thing," Desmond said.
"That's why I'm leaving it to you." She said quietly, returning to her papers as though he were no longer there. A streak of morning played off the sterling watch she'd shed onto the table and Desmond remembered a similar morning meeting ending this way. He'd been training a new executive assistant for a CFO long since retired; as they walked out of Akilah's office, the young man seemed to be holding back something.
'You think Miss Mkapa was being dismissive,' he'd said. The young man had petrified instantly, watching him with frightened deer eyes. He'd just smiled to himself.
"One last thing."
"Yes?"
"I've sent Mariska home and given her the day off."
"She was out there all night?" Akilah arched a brow. "Have payroll give her a one-off bonus, double time for the day. I'll thank her personally when she comes in."
"Very good."
He started combing through a list of people he wanted to reach out to help bolster Doppler's position as he took the elevator back down. If the transfer of credibility was a fait accompli before Cain was up and walking again, he could be counted on to self-destruct by throwing his wounded ego around publicly.
Ibrahim Bakari was arguing with the front desk agent when Desmond reached the lobby.
"What's the matter?"
"It's Cain," Ibrahim said. "He's, ah . . ." He looked lost.
"Dead?"
"No, he snuck out of the hospital! He's in Lab Two."
Desmond swore internally. "Your car's out front?"
"Yes sir."
"Take me there."
A thousand scenarios played out in Desmond's head during the brief drive, none of them good. When he finally made it to the shop floor of Lab Two, the one he'd wanted the least was playing out before his eyes. Cain stood up on a crate, addressing a circle of engineers, technicians, facility staffers, and even a few of the security team. He caught sight of Desmond, flashed him a smile so brief it could hardly be said to have happened.
"They thought this bullet would put me down. They thought they could hold back the future with a gun in the dark. Now, they're going to come for all of us—and for the new form of life we're bringing into the world. We didn't ask for this. We didn't start this war, but we're going to end it, and then we're going to show the world a new, brighter future. Who's with me?"
His skin was pallid, sweat glistened on his brow. One hand hovered near the gauzed wound in his side, his other supported some of his weight on an aluminum cane. Cheers washed over him.
Though the crowd heard 'they' and pictured distant enemies, Desmond wondered just who Cain had wanted so badly to overcome that he'd risked reopening a bullet hole just to deliver a speech.