The Industrialist

Flanegan seemed to be devoid of the devious intent of vengeance that Lance orchestrated since the RoFlo production. Of course, as the Law dictated, there should be a TOR on every production floor. Apparently, Flanegan was assigned to SteamHaven for a reason. Lance hated the way Flanegan looked; his well-trimmed and gelled hair, his glassy face skin, almost perfect to look at. The very detail of a high-classer was portrayed in the guy in front of him.

"Lance Berkley, it's so nice to see you," Flanegan said, wearing his devious grin that Lance wanted to punch his face.

"Flanegan. Glad that you are assigned as my TOR," Lance said. Sounding as if he had the upper hand, and worked hard to suppress his gutful hate towards the guy.

"I am going to enjoy working with you, Mister Berkley." Flanegan mocked.

"Me too. I mean, Mister Leric had vested me the authority to oversee his weapons division, with the help of Doctor Zee of course."

"Look at you. You are climbing up the ranks. And Doctor Zee behind your back, you can be the most powerful Mechanic Tier in the City."

"Well, I am the most powerful Mechanic Tier in the City," Lance said.

Chang stepped in, between them. "I see you already know each other."

"From previous endeavors, Mister Chang," Flanegan said and had his curt bow.

Lance wondered how would Flanegan pull the strings to become a TOR outside of AmdonCore. Usually, the TORs were assigned based on the regions or sectors. Somehow, Flanegan had managed to haunt Lance in SteamHaven, a few sectors farther from his assigned sector.

"What about AmdonCore?" Lance asked.

"Well, my services are no longer required in AmdonCore, and my relatives in the Government helped me to find the most suitable job for me. And here I am. You're in luck!"

Lance's production operations would be at great risk with Flanegan on his wing. Although, Flanegan would prove himself by a successful production output, however, whatever mishaps that would happen, would be construed to Lance.

Additional pressure built up upon his shoulders. When would this end? Lance thought.

Flanegan had a few small talks with Chang and the latter would laugh from the former's wits.

"Flanegan, as my TOR, what's the progress now of our preparation," Lance interjected.

Lance wanted to take revenge on Flanegan. The tables had turned and Lance wouldn't let Flanegan be carefree and normal during the production of PB 10.

"Oh," Chang smirked at Lance's aggressiveness. "I see why Leric chose you as the Weapon's inventor. You don't like small talk. I like that."

Lance only smiled at him.

"Ok, I guess you are all set. Now that Flanegan is also here taking care of the start-up. I guess you can manage on your own?" Chang said.

"Of course, Mister Chang. I can find my way in the cafeteria or the bathrooms if I need them." Lance responded. Lance could not stand Flanegan spilling false words to an innocent Executive Assistant. Although Chang had been polite ever since they met, it was apparent that the Executive Assistant was not the person to mess with. He could not explain why, but he could feel it. He could feel his stares and the way he moved and spoke, all with wisdom and efficiency, which would construe him as dangerous. Find exclusive stories on empire

'They cannot be trusted,' Lance deduced.

Mister Chang walked away after a curt bow. Flanegan seemed to be polite as well in front of Chang. However, Lance knew that it was all a ploy to get back on him. The thrill crawled on Lance's skin, thinking about the possibilities that Flanegan could manufacture for his failure.

"Mister Lance, we are on time with the preparations. The people here are motivated to continue with the project."

'Motivated? Could he not see that the people are working here under the barrel of a gun,' Lance said.

A few armed guards watched from above them through a deck walkway, hovering above like drones and identifying potential risks. As if they were going to gun down an erring employee.

"Yes. Flanegan, I need to work this out smoothly, without any predicaments. I expect that a man of your caliber can make this important project a success. I mean we are under a microscope here. What we are going to manufacture is the most important weapon that the CBD has ever seen."

Flanegan stepped on, his face turned sour. And a vengeful look plastered on his expression.

'Now the fun begins,' Lance thought.

"Listen here punk. I am not gonna be your slave. I can work on my own even without your assistance. So, let me be the one calling the shots." Flanegan stepped closer to Lance's face. He was an inch taller than Lance and had a wider body. Despite the intimidation, Lance did not back down.

The way he spoke scared Lance. Momentarily, Lance forgot that he was more dangerous than Flanegan. He held one of the important positions in CBD, and then he was considered a rebel spy. If he wanted Flanegan killed, Jefferson and his band of assassins would not hesitate. But Lance was not the kind of guy who kills. He wanted to win through his wits and morals.

"I know that Flanegan. Since you are my TOR, I believe we play on the same objective. If you succeed, I will succeed as well. We are supposedly on the same page on this." Lance stared at Flanegan without fear. He had been fearful all his life, especially in his endeavors outside the wall. Death almost caught up to him countless times, and yet he was able to escape. And a shmuck like Flanegan should not be in addition to his demons that would haunt him in his sleep. No. He convinced himself that he had the upper hand.

"Ok, genius. What are we going to do next." Flanegan was testing Lance.

"Check on the equipment installation first and the calibrations. I will check on the plant nursery," Lance said.

"Ok, boss!" Flanegan said sarcastically.

As Lance ambled inside the plant nursery, an adjacent room of his production floor held the invitro propagated Aiveez plants.

One man in a white laboratory lab gown was tending to the adult plant harvests. Upon his arrival inside the plant nursery, the aromatic smell of the plant soothed his stress. It rinsed off the pressure that he felt since he met with Flanegan. He released a deep sigh.

"Hi," Lance said.

Startled, the man greeted him back. "Hello, Mister Berkley. I am Alexander. I am your assistant plant tender for your nursery."

Lance shook his hand. Luke guessed that this employee had a better in building rapport than the previous guys on the production floor. Alexander had no hint of derision.

"I am now beginning to extract the nectar from the adult plants and we can begin manufacturing this afternoon," Alexander said, placing the Aiveez stalks in a squeezer machine. With one press of the button, pure nectar would be collected in a chamber, separated from other unwanted organic matter.

"Alexander, would you care to tell me how are you here in SteamHaven?" Lance asked. He felt inside the nursery room and felt comfortable talking with Alexander.

"I guess you are just starting here in CBD?"

"Yes, I am. This is my first day actually," Lance said.

"Oh really. So, you did not know about the executions?" Alexander said.

"Executions?" Lance asked.

"Yes. If you don't comply. Or you have series of infractions despite the warnings from the management, you will be executed. They can't afford to have someone running on the outside with confidential information. The rebels can use that information against the government."

Lance heard about the executions from his father and Alexandar had confirmed the rumors to be true. CBD manufacturing industries had no problem replacing dead employees, the city had a increasing unemployment rate. People would love to work in a factory under CBD because of the better pay offerings. However, these people don't know that they can never get out, until their deathbed.

"So, it's true then. The rumors." Lance said.

"Yes. It's not a secret. But the CBD is a powerful department. They can do what they want without being sanctioned. It is sad to say but this is the world we are living in. And there is nothing we can do about it. A savior won't be coming to free us from these shackles."

Lance would say positive affirmations to Alexander but he rather stayed silent. He did not want to raise suspicion of anyone working under the CBD. The news had sparked a flame of motivation inside of him that he would aggressively collect usable information for the rebels. It supported Lance's theory that the Government, along with the CBD, had been killing Commoners to at least control the growing population.

"If you are saying that, then we are prisoners of CBD now."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"No, Mister Berkley. We are the prisoners and you are our jail guard." Alexander said it as if he feared nothing, even death.