Part 8
Karissa Davis sat at the table in the poorly lit room. She had been locked up in jail for a few days and the lack of amenities that she had grown to love made it seem like weeks. Her father had finally found a lawyer that would work within her price range and she had grown impatient waiting for her to show. She watched the clock, practically living in the eternity between each tick of the second hand. What was taking her so long?
Before long the door to her room was opened by an officer and in walked a short haired woman in a black, pinstripe pantsuit. She nodded to the officer who closed the door; leaving both women in the room alone. The woman introduced herself, “Hello Karissa. I’m Chase Holden, your attorney from Wolfram and Associates. Your father has helped to secure me as your attorney in this matter.” She immediately sat down in front of Karissa and opened her briefcase. She laid out several folders and her laptop. She looked up Karissa. “Now…. I’m going to ask you this, and how you answer may set the tone for our working relationship. Please, answer honestly and be frank. Client/attorney privilege keeps me from discussing anything you say in this room with the outside world. Did you ever threaten to reveal business practices of private facilities if they did not pay your organization hush money?”
Karissa slapped her hands down on the table. “No! That is bullshit! All we ever did was work for fluffy rights! We wouldn’t even take money from those fucking-“
Chase held up her hand to stop Karissa from ranting. “Ok, stop. That’s not the type of response I would ever expect you to give in a courtroom, should it come to that, and I want you to get in the habit of answering questions professionally and objectively. You’re going to need to work on your tone if I am to continue helping you. I’m not going to expect you to change overnight but we’re going to need to work on your communication skills. If you continue outbursts like that you’re only going to get animosity from those who will affect your future. Understood?” Chase gave her a cold, stoic stare.
Feeling trapped, Karissa chewed her lower lip. Her activism had allowed her to speak with fire, but now she had to temper herself to get out of this mess. It shouldn’t be hard, since she was innocent. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “It’s just that I have never done anything like that. Yes, I did expose several unethical breeding operations but I never asked for hush money. I wouldn’t have taken it, anyway. I was working for the fluffies.” She took another deep breath. She wanted to get angry but knew that her attorney was working for her.
Chase furrowed her brow, looking down as she frowned. “Please don’t take this as me calling you a liar, Karissa… but I feel the need to be as blunt as possible…” She looked up to Karissa, opening some of the folders she had set on the table. “Given the evidence that the DAs office has provided me with convincing me of your innocence will be incredibly difficult. It will be even harder to convince the DA, a judge, or even a jury. Please don’t interject; I’m going to lay out the evidence for you in its totality….”
Lay it out she did; there was a mountain of damning evidence. First, Chase went over the electronic evidence that had mounted against Karissa. Several emails had been sent to several fluffy breeding mills that had shown Karissa and many other activists throughout the Washington operations of FRN threatening to expose the mills if they did not make a donation to FRN. These emails had been confirmed time-stamped not only on FRN servers but the servers of the mills they had been sent to as well. It was confirmed that soon after the times the emails were sent the mills ended up receiving negative press from FRN. It didn’t help that the mills had signed affidavits from the mill owners stating that they had received threats.
The next piece of evidence, and the most damning, was a video file that was allegedly recorded by surveillance at Happy Fluffy Farms. The somewhat blurry video showed Karissa talking to a manager after she had been let in (by Margot, no less) to see the operation. She was seen ranting at the manager after seeing the cramped pens the breeding mares were kept in. “We really don’t care at all,” she said in the video. “We only want to display good breeding operations. Any donations would be appreciated and we won’t mention what we see here today.” It then had her launching into a tirade against the manager and soon ended.
Karissa’s blood ran cold as she watched it. “I…. that wasn’t what I said….” She looked up at Chase, confused. She still didn’t feel any less trapped; in fact it felt like the walls were closing in around her. “That’s…. that’s gotta be fake….” she insisted, wringing her hands. “I yelled about the conditions, yes…… the fluffies were confined and mistreated…. But… I-“ None of this made sense!
Chase held her hand up again. “Again… I’m not calling you a liar, but you understand that this is what we’ll be facing.” Chase looked to Karissa, her expression cold. “If it’s fake, we’ll need to prove it. It’s convincing enough that the DAs office is using it as evidence. You also have to prove that the emails are fake because they very strongly corroborate the case against you. If we fight this it will be long and costly. Frankly, I don’t think your case looks very good. I’m not going to sugar coat it. Right now your best bet at this point in time is a plea deal. We could try to say that it was to help FRN and you were looking to get funding to help the poor creatures. With community service I think we could get the charges and sentences reduced; we could even look at probation. In my opinion the last thing you want is to take it to trial. Activists often fight uphill battles against juries.”
Karissa just stared at the evidence against her. In her heart and mind she knew this was all fabricated. The thought of taking money from a mill that abused these helpless animals sickened her. She lowered her head, trying to think of what to do next. Her mind was in a haze; she couldn’t think clearly.
Chase started gathering her things. “You’re going to be brought before a judge in a few days. It’s not a trial; just a preliminary hearing. You don’t need to decide right now but I would give it some sincere thought about a plea deal. You say you’re innocent; I’m not going to tell you you’re not. I’m here to get the best result for you. Unless you’ve got proof that the supports your claim of doctored evidence you’re looking at a losing battle. I’ll probably be able to get you bail, but you’ve got to work with me. I’ll contact you tomorrow to discuss things.” Chase got up. “Try not to create any dust ups with the staff here, it will only make things worse in the long run.” She knocked on the door to have the officer let her out. “I’ll be in touch.”
Karissa stayed overwhelmed in her mental fog as the officer took her back to her cell. She had no idea what she was going to do; luckily the one thing she did have was time to think. That was all she had in jail.
Outside, Chase got into her car and dialed on her phone. She immediately got in to voicemail. “Yeah, this is Chase Holden leaving a message for Everett Brooks. I’ve planted the seeds.” She immediately hung up.
….
Brennan had spent most of the day in the hive. He had to work to make sure that all of the fluffies kept calling him daddeh. He had worked his way up both columns of the Hive, tossing Sketti bites into each individual pen. A few treats here and there kept them thinking happy thoughts of him. Thankfully they were all too stupid to see through his plastic smile. He kept mental notes of the ones who were going into the Kremlin next.
After making his rounds he moved towards the front exit. Margot was there standing in her overalls holding a pet carrier. The edge of his mouth turned up in a smile. How on earth did she manage to look so sexy in overalls? Some things were best appreciated and not questioned. As he got closer he couldn’t help but notice the loud series of peeps coming from the pet carrier.
He looked at Margot, cocking an eyebrow. “Taking a foal out early?” He knew her abuser tendencies. He also knew that she was more than willing to use her title as Overseer of Fluffy Care to help her explore said tendencies. It was an unspoken fringe benefit that Margot was all too happy to make use of.
Margot shrugged. “This… is a special case. This filly has SBS.” She raised the pet carrier to let him see. He looked inside to see a pudgy blue foal. It wasn’t just pudgy; it was really fat. He could barely see its legs under the folds that rolled over them. Its eyes bugged out, peeping as it searched for its mummah. Any other foal at this age would be talking, possibly even teething. The “sensitive babbehs” couldn’t, though.
Brennan nodded. “Yes… I understand. You need to remove it because the mother will favor this foal over all the others. The last thing we need in the hive is a mare with a sensitive foal. It’s a stepping stone to bitch mare syndrome….” He gave her a smirk. “Enjoy….” he whispered, heading out to go into his office.
He sat down, opening up his agenda. He frowned as he looked at what came next. He had hoped that this day wouldn’t come, but some people were just too curious. He had been notified that a vape cartridge was found next to one of the feral traps in the wooded area around the plant. Feeling suspicious, Brennan had investigated by looking at security feeds from around the plant. Around the same time every day he saw Fred taking a walk; sometimes he would be seen taking a hit of the vape. On the day the cartridge was found he was observed walking just a little more briskly back into the building. It was abundantly clear to Brennan that something was up. As such, he scheduled Fred to come in to see him under the guise of an update on plant operations. Brennan had to get to the bottom of this.
Right on time, he heard a knock on his office door. It was Fred, looking awkward and nervous as usual. “Fred!” Brennan said with a smile. “Come one on in! Would you like some coffee? Tea, perhaps?” He said as he stood up. Care of his employees was his main priority, even if they were digging a little deep beyond their scope of employment.
Fred just shrugged. “I’m good…” He said, taking a seat. He leaned forward, his hands fidgeting nervously. “So… you want an update on operations, right?”
Brennan nodded. Straight to the point. Good. “Yes…. I wanted to get your opinion on how things were going in the plant. Just wanted an update. Are we in the black? Everything is operating smoothly?” Brennan probed, trying to see how Fred would react.
Fred shifted nervously. “Well…. Yes! We’re back to building up our natural gas reserves, and fertilizer components are being shipped at a very good pace. There have been a few instances of backflow and clogs, but working with the maintenance teams we’ve been able to fix the problems and prevent new ones as they come.” Fred blurted this all out happily, trying to hide the fact that he felt something was still wrong. He had the feeling that he was not doing a good job of it.
Brennan nodded. “Yes… I’ve seen how you’ve worked with the teams to keep the flow going. I have to say, I’m impressed. You’re very efficient. You’ve kept the….” Brennan paused and tilted his head, “numbers going well, I’ve seen.” He saw Fred flinch. Bingo. The numbers were bothering him. “But I have a feeling something is bothering you, isn’t it?”
Fred started sweating. “Well… the numbers look good… we’re actually producing excess gas, and we’ll be able to start selling the excess at this rate….”
Brennan could see the deflection. It was time to press. “You enjoy vaping, correct? If I’m not mistaken, you like tropical flavor?”
Fred tilted his head. “Um… yes. How did you….?”
Brennan held up the spent vape cartridge found by the trap. “This was found by one of our traps. The same day it was found our surveillance found you running into the building after one of your breaks.” Brennan watched as Fred got the sweats even worse; his fidgeting only intensified. “Please, don’t think I’m mad. I’m not. I just want to give you an opportunity to voice any concerns you have. You can’t do your job if things are weighing heavily on your mind. So please, just answer me bluntly…. Do you have any concerns you feel need to be addressed?” Brennan folded his hands, calmly waiting for Fred to answer.
Fred fidgeted more, realizing that he was now under the microscope. “Yes. There are things I have seen that don’t make any sense.” There, he said it. He still didn’t feel any less stressed.
Brennan nodded. “Very well. I’d like you to air any grievances you have. I just want you to remember, because it’s very important you remain aware of this. You signed an NDA to never disclose anything about our operations. As long as you understand that you are bound to abide by that I want you to lay out all of your problems for me. I want total honesty. Give me that, and you will get that from me. So, tell me. What doesn’t make sense?”
Fred listened realized that this was it. He had to spill all the beans. So he did. He went over the numbers. Fred told Brennan how the natural gas and fertilizer components were on a constant upward trend despite the constant numbers found in the hive. He told them how the consumption of organic waste which the fluffies ate also went up despite a constant number of fluffies in the hive. Fred explained that he could not find a way to get any of those numbers to make sense. He also admitted to the trap he had found, which didn’t make sense with the Hive’s operation. Once he completely vented all of his concerns, Fred looked relieved. He was still concerned but he had finally managed to express the things that were stressing him.
Brennan smiled. “Well, Fred. You’re a very smart and logical man. I’m glad I have a man with such a zeal for analytics on my team.” He nodded at Fred. “So… Let’s just lay this out. For the duration of the plant’s operation, we have always had around two hundred fluffies contained within the hive. As long as we have operated our natural gas production has been on an upward trend. The same for the raw fertilizer components we have been shipping out. We also see that the food consumption has continued to increase. The fluffies in the Hive have stayed at a constant number, but you have seen that we have been trapping feral fluffies. Now, let’s apply Occam’s Razor; tell me what you think the simplest explanation is. What would it mean when all these variables are combined?”
Fred let these bits of information turn over in his head. He finally stopped fidgeting. There was only one explanation. “You’ve got more fluffies somewhere else, don’t you? More producers that aren’t in the hive?” He looked towards Brennan; eagerly awaiting a response.
Brennan nodded his head. “Remember your NDA. Yes, we do. We have a lot more. The energy that it takes to maintain proper pressure in the Hive means that only a scant amount of energy could be produced from what is left over, if that. The real guts of the plant are out of public sight, producing more gas than we can even burn.” Brennan watched Fred as he explained this. He expected Fred to get a little more agitated but instead he only became even calmer.
“I see.” Fred said. “Well… that explains the numbers very well. Thank you.”
“This…. doesn’t bother you?” Brennan asked, slightly put off by Fred’s calmness.
“Not at all. You see… I have OCD,” Fred explained. “Making numbers work is kind of an obsession. It’s a blessing and a curse. It has helped me in my engineering because if the numbers don’t work at first I need to know why. It has helped me become a better engineer since I have always looked at ways to gather data more effectively.”
Brennan nodded. “I didn’t know that. The fact that there are other fluffies in potentially undesirable conditions doesn’t bother you?”
Fred shrugged. “Not at all. You see, I was born and raised in Cleveland. I was visiting my grandparents in Scranton when it fell. I don’t like fluffies for what they did to my home.”
Brennan looked at Fred quizzically. “I thought that was from the nuclear power plant……”
Fred immediately shook his head. “Nope. Over time I gathered all the data. None of it points to a nuclear disaster. The damage points to local ordnance detonated by a natural gas explosion. The same kind of gas that we’re using now.”
Brennan was surprised. He never thought to question what happened to Cleveland before. “I see. So, you’re going to keep doing your job?”
Fred gave him a satisfied smile. “More than that. If you want, I’ll even help you make it better.”
“Fred….” Brennan said, smiling. “I think you have potential for a great future here……”