President Clayton swore viciously and pointed at the screen. “We should move the military in and arrest them all!”
General Carlson blinked and threw a glance at his chief aide, Burton. “Sir?”
“These protestors,” Clayton said, pointing again. “Don’t they know that we have enough problems? We should arrest the entire lot!”
“They’re rather harmless at the moment,” Carlson responded. “The Ts2 scanners have reported no overt threats. A few harbor a lot of resentment, but nothing that should boil over.”
“That’s not the problem,” the President continued. “Don’t they realize what a benefit the Ts2 is? We are regaining control. We are establishing authority and stability. They’re trying to undermine the whole thing!”
“I’ll grant you it is odd that they’re protesting the death of the Komodo dragons and not the games themselves. I would think they would be protesting that or the Ts2, but the dragons?”
“Come on, Carlson. You can’t be that naive. The protest is a smoke screen. Of course they are protesting the games and the Ts2. This—this is just a lie.”
Carlson had never seen him so angry before. “You really think this is a conspiracy? But the Ts2 Scanners indicate—”
“Shut up! Shut up or you’ll convince me that you are part of it.” His face had turned red and Carlson recoiled from the full malice behind those eyes. “There is a plot to overthrow my presidency. I am convinced of it—the mob for starters. I think they’re behind it. I think they are going to attempt a coup.”
The General could just stare at the President. He didn’t know what to say or how to act. The mob was greedy, but they had no political gains outside of what they could extort from the governments. They certainly didn’t want to rule. What was going on here? The last weeks had been hard on everyone, particularly the President, but this seemed…extreme.
“What do you want me to do, Mr. President?”
The President ran his hands through his hair, and the General saw them tremble when he brought them back to his side. “We must root out this conspiracy and destroy it before it can spread too far. I want that crowd out there dispersed, and I want people watching every known mob agent out there. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
Carlson motioned to his aide to follow him. Burton, his face an emotionless mask, followed without hesitation. When they were outside the Oval Office, the pair made their way to a conference room down the hall. They entered and closed the door behind them. For a long moment, they just looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.
Finally, Burton said, “Maybe he’s just tired.”
“Maybe, but this seems to be more than just exhaustion. Something is very wrong.”
“I wonder what a Ts2 scan would say right now.”
“On the president? You’re mad Burton. The President is not subject to the scan. The results, even if conducted, would be dismissed.”
Burton looked troubled. “Sir, does that mean we could be ruled by an insane person, and there is nothing we could do about it?”
“Pray that will never be the case, Burton.” Carlson sighed.