Part 6
Adrian steeled himself, and as he pulled his shoulders back and walked up the stairs to the podium, he was a shadow of his former self. Grace just hoped it was enough to fool the immediate public.
"Good afternoon, citizens of New York and people all over the globe watching today," Adrian said into the microphone, and his voice was that old rhythmic, smooth drawl that made women swoon. He straightened his note card on the podium, but didn't look down at it. "It is with deepest regret and sorrow that I address you under such circumstances," he continued, and Grace stepped closer, just behind the chairs where the Veidt executives sat in their tawny foldout chairs.
She noticed that he was doing exactly as she'd said; alternating between looking at a few reporters, a few cameras… never the wreckage behind them.
"On November 1st, the human race was devastated by an act of violence to the magnitude of which it has never experienced. Dr. Manhattan, my old colleague and friend, perpetrated a series of attacks on the world's major cities, killing millions. But it is through this chaos that we will, and must, rise," Adrian continued, his façade of confidence completely convincing to the crowd at hand.
"In 410 AD, the great city of Rome was sacked, quickly followed by the fall of the entire western Empire. Its population declined to a mere 20,000 during the Early Middle Ages, reducing the phenomenal city to groups of inhabited buildings interspersed among large areas of ruins; much like we are surviving and coping in today. But there is an underlying theme to such devastation and loss. It is a simple act which all human beings are capable of, and it spreads like wildfire; hope.
"It was through hope and determination that Rome rose again, under a man named Charlemagne. It soon became a city which put it's predecessor to shame, with responsible leadership and tried and true alliances.
"It is true, that we all mourn for our loss. The sheer number of lives lost that day is staggering, and shatters my soul more than you can possibly imagine. But we must weep for our dead, pray for them, and do as they would wish of us; rebuild. We cannot, and will not let this act of violence tear us apart. Let us use the insuing peace to build new connections, strengthen old ones, and renew broken ones. For it is through the ashes of this horrendous disaster that a proverbial pheonix will rise.
"We, the survivors, have been given a great gift; the gift of a second chance. With our world at peace, we will rebuild, renew, and rise to the challenge. That is why, starting today, I am going to extend my funding of reconstruction from not just the city of New York, but to every city devastated by these attacks. From this point on, forty percent of the costs of rebuilding these great cities will be funded by Veidt Enterprises, no matter the cost."
Gasps spread through the crowd, as well as the Veidt executives, and the frantic scratching of reporters writing on their clipboards could be heard just under the gasps.
"That is my gift to you, my fellow survivors. The rest is up to you. Have hope, and never forget the bonds that this disaster has formed. Godspeed to those lost, and a heartfelt sorrow to their families. Thank you for your time," Adrian finished, and stepped back from the podium slightly, bowing his head as everyone applauded.
Mr. Campbell then stepped forward, raising his shorter head to the microphone, and said, "We will take questions now."
The reporters in the crowd immediately rushed forward, holding out their own microphones and firing off questions in a rumble of pure noise.
"One at a time, please," Mr. Campbell said, and stepped back again so that Adrian could address them.
Adrian simply picked someone by pointing at them, then gave the middle-aged man his full attention.
"How do you feel, knowing that Dr. Manhattan was previously a member of the Watchmen alongside yourself?" the man said loudly, holding up the mic so he could record Adrian's answer.
"It isn't a question of my feelings for the man himself, if a man is what I should label him. It is more a question of finding the reasoning in his actions. I cannot begin to comprehend the depths of ingenuity he possesses, but perhaps if we look deep enough, we can possibly rationalize. I know that right now, we see only his actions, and how they have impacted us. But let us look deeper. Is it impossible to consider that he was trying to save us? Perhaps he understood our dire situation in terms of nuclear war. Is it unfathomable, then, that perhaps he did what he did for exactly the consequences that have occurred; peace between nations? If we may look beyond the situation at hand, we may see deeper motives than pure violence. Jon Osterman was a changed individual from before the accident that altered him, but for as long as I knew him, he was not a man who pursued violence, but rather, violence pursued him. So how do I feel about having worked alongside him for so long? I still value our time together, for he was truly the epitome of the evolved human being. If that makes me a monster, so be it. But I will always remember Dr. Manhattan," Adrian finished, staring daggers into the reporter, who furrowed his brows, and wrote something down on a clipboard.
"Mr. Veidt!" another reporter immediately called out, recognizing her chance to ask her question. Adrian turned to her, and raised his eyebrows as he waited for the question.
"Before the attacks, you were collaborating with Dr. Manhatta, yes?" the woman said, also holding out a mic that was connected to a cassette tape recorder on her hip.
"That is correct. He was facilitating research to duplicate his power in order to provide cheap, easily renewable energy to the entire world," Adrian replied, tilting his head like a puppy in anticipation of the inherent question.
Mr. Campbell stepped forward. "Is there a greater question in these statements of the obvious, Ms. Valencia?" he asked curtly.
"Of course," she replied confidently. "So, then, you spent a lot of time around him?" she asked.
"Are you implying, ma'am, that I foresaw these events in advance and simply kept my mouth shut?" Adrian said, and his tone was rather sharp.
"Well, as Earth's smartest man, we the public wouldn't expect any less of you," she said, and Grace gasped. No one, especially women, were ever terse with Adrian Veidt.
"Ms. Valencia, was it?" Adrian said, and the woman nodded slowly. "I am incredibly intelligent. Not an oracle. And while I was titled Earth's smartest man, I continue to believe that I am the second. It is Jon Osterman whose intellect outweighs my own. He is capable of witnessing and manipulating events on a molecular level, something that we as an inferior race compared to Dr. Manhattan, can hardly do. Therefore it can be said that he was, in fact, far more intelligent than I. If it is prophecy you expect of me, then I am sorry to disappoint. I could not have predicted these events any more than you could. Which, I must admit, disheartens me," Adrian said, and to Grace, it sounded like there was inherent insult in that statement. Apparently the reporter, Ms. Valencia, heard it too, and she leaned back, content in not aggravating one of the most powerful men on the planet.
"So what does the future hold for you and your company?" another male reporter called out.
"Well, in the immediate future, we will be one hundred and ten percent dedicated to the rebuilding of the world's major cities. And it is rather clear that my collaboration with Dr. Manhattan on energy sources will be put on an indefinite hold, pending Dr. Manhattan's return to Earth," Adrian said.
"So you don't think he should face consequences if and when he returns?" another reporter asked.
Adrian was silent for a long moment, and some of the reporters looked at each other in confusion.
"I think that someone as inconceivably complex as Dr. Manhattan would not do what he did without due rationale. I think, still with much sorrow for those lost, that his actions held the greater purpose of unifying this world in a peace; a peace that could not be achieved without sacrifice. That having been said, I do not think that Dr. Manhattan will ever return to Earth," Adrian finished, inclining his head.
Mr. Campbell stepped forward again. "Only a few more questions, please. As you can imagine, Mr. Veidt is a very busy man nowadays."
"I'm pulling from your justification of Dr. Manhattan's actions that you don't at all disapprove of what he did," another male reporter said, and Grace could tell from his tone that his follow-up question would probably not be very considerate. "You keep saying that you're sorry for the lives of those lost. I'm not really hearing that at all."
Adrian sighed, and when he spoke, there was clearly anger in it. "You act as if I have not lost anything in this, sir," Adrian said, and he was actually raising his voice. "I have lost more than you can possibly imagine. So do not presume to take my confidence as lack of empathy. I have not even begun to cope with this, as many people have not, and I will not be spoken to as if I have no compassion for the human condition," Adrian said, actually holding a finger out to this man like a scolding parent.
Mr. Campbell stepped forward, trying to nicely nudge Adrian away from the microphone. "No more questions. Thank you, everyone, for coming out," he said, and quickly ushered Adrian away from the podium so that he wouldn't continue harping on the man, who now wore a smug grin. Grace was sure that he would now be known as the one reporter to ever make Adrian Veidt lose his cool. It wasn't exactly something Grace would have been proud of in his position, but she wasn't a blood-sucking pencil pusher, so she wouldn't know.