Chapter Eight - Part 6

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Troy sat at the president’s desk, reclined, rocking back and forth in his chair. His left hand held up his chin, thinking.

“Greetings, Mr. President,” said Major White through Troy’s Nanolense.

“Good day, Major White,” replied Troy, acting as President Barber. “Tell me, what is the progress on The City?”

“Ha! That is exactly what I was about to update you on!” shouted Major White with enthusiasm.

“Great,” said Troy dourly. “So what is it?”

“Well, the New Castle Disease has spread quickly as of late, as expected. Approximately one hundred occupants have died already, with more and more passing every day. If this rate keeps up, the entire ship will go within one months time,” he explained jubilantly.

Troy swallowed loudly.

“Good to hear,” he squeaked through his dry throat. “It is expected to reach everybody?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. President. As far as we know, they do not have the medicinal cure for it yet. We’re not sure if they have even diagnosed the disease yet, to be honest,” he said.

“Let’s say they don’t diagnose it, or find a cure for it. What’s next?” asked Troy.

“Mr. President, we’ve discussed this several times,” said Major White. “The Movement’s goal is to take down The City. Completely. Eliminate it. Afterwards, we’re moving on towards Cuba. Then, depending on how that goes, we’ll move to Central America.”

“Yes, I understand,” said Troy. “But what are your timeframes? When do you see these projects beginning?”

Major White’s scratched his head, thinking.

“Well,” he began. “I expect to see The City fall early next week. I expect Project Cuba to begin within the next month. And I expect to begin Central American within the year. Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, sir,” said Troy, coolly. “Keep up the good work, Major.”

“Certainly, Mr. President,” saluted Major White.

Troy leaned forward in his chair. He threw his arms up on the desk and his head collapsed in misery, his forearms providing the only cushion.

What am I to do? he asked himself silently.

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