Reset: A Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fi Fantasy (Contaminant Series Book 1) Read Free

his side of the coffee table between the two couches. 
    “There’s front lines right here that need defending.  If you’re worried about food, we’ve got rations you can defend.  You’re worried about money?  How long do you think the dollar will last with this kind of inflation?  Once our currency goes, you can kiss it all goodbye...”
    Rosenthird was out of breath from his back and forth motions.  By the end of his retort, he was leaning on the coffee table, in the general’s face.
    Griffith slowly stood up and with him, Rosenthird.  The general held his hat in his hand and put his chin up. “Mr. President, we’ve done this dance for a few years now.  But this time, our country, everything that we are, is riding on this.  Whatever you decide…” Griffith nodded as if to add affirmation, “We will carry it out with a vengeance.”
    “I know you will.” Rosenthird patted Griffith on the shoulder and walked him to the door, “Tell them to start packing.  I’m signing the Order before lunch.”  With a brief handshake, President Rosenthird escorted Marine Corps General Griffith to the hallway.  He shut the office doors and quickly went to the phone to intercom Jameson, “Jameson, please have Vern escort Marine Corp General Griffith to the exit.”
    A nasally “Yes, Mr. President” came through over the speaker.
    Rosenthird slowly walked back over to the couch and plopped down.  He checked his watch.  Only 11:30am. “Why don’t you two take a break.  Be back here in twenty?”
    “Thank you, Mr. President”
    “Thank you, Mr. President”
    Both aides closed up their notebooks and suitcases and exited the Oval office.
    ***
    The door to the Oval office was shut when Chris and Michael returned to the benches outside the door.  At 11:50am, President Rosenthird arrived with his bodyguard in tow.  He opened up the office, allowing the bodyguard to enter first and then entering himself.  Once again, Michael allowed Chris to enter before him.  She didn’t even acknowledge it or him this time.  The aides situated themselves in their chairs and waited for the guests to arrive. 
    Soon after the opening of the office, the couch opposite the President in the lounge had two visitors sitting on it.  On one end sat agriculturalist consultant, Peter Tillman.  He was surprisingly fit for a balding middle-aged farmer.  His skin was a leathery light brown from years spent in the sun. 
    At the other end of the couch sat biologist, Anna Williams.  At first glance, she appeared young, like mid-twenties young, because of her wrinkle free face.  Her smooth, milk chocolate skin shone under the gentle lighting in the office.  A closer look revealed that Anna’s eyes were not so naïve as her age might suggest.  She was wearing a black dress suit and she had an aura of confidence that could be felt.
    Rosenthird composed himself and turned to his presidential aide, “Christine?”
    “Time, Mr. President.” She was matter-of-fact as usual.
    “Alright. Let’s begin.”
    “Mr. President,” Anna wasn’t calling his name.  She was addressing him.  “I’m Anna Williams of the Agriculture and Biology Coalition.  I will be filling in for Jenna Olson.  We are on the brink of something in Nebraska.  She wanted to stay back and see it through.”
    Rosenthird acknowledged her with a nod,
    “Okay.  What do you have for me?”  He sat back on his couch and propped pillows behind his back for support.  It was informal, but nothing about their situation was formal.
    “We spoke over the phone.  I’m Peter Tillman, agriculturalist.  And, I’ll cut to the chase.  We want your permission to distribute cloned meat.  The work that ABC has been able to achieve in cloning cannot yet be applied to plants or reverse the effects of Crop-Dust.  The only plants that seem to have any capacity to withstand the genetic tampering are plants that have already been genetically altered.”
     “GMO’s?”