For the Love of Money

Chapter 6

After my hasty acceptance, the doctor made moves towards the door.

"Wait," I said, putting a hands up and standing from the bed. The doctor gave me a wary look. Funny. Just hours ago, I could have sworn my arms and legs were unrecognizable charred chunks of flesh. "I still have questions. How come the RMMs didn't kill me? How come they exploded? And what technology did you use to save my life?"

"All those questions would take hours to answer," the doctor said. "I can tell you that the technology we used is still in your system, and will be out by tomorrow. You need to have it extracted in order to do it properly." The doctor shifted his gaze. "That might include some things that you don't like."

I narrowed my eyes. "Like what?"

"Like knocking you out again," the other, smaller man said unkindly. He added under his breath, "Not something I would argue against."

"What was that?" I asked with underlying threat, clenching my fists. The small man stiffened. "You want to be a man and come to my face and--"

"No need to fight gentlemen," the doctor cut in, putting his hands up. "You're still bedridden Devin, and Scott, that's no way to talk to a patient. He's a person too."

"Barely," Scott said.

I quickly considered my options and decided that I wouldn't kick his ass, not yet. I folded my arms. "So what's going to happen? How are we going to do this? I gave you my consent, and now you have to give me a plan."

"After we remove the nanotechnology from your body, we were planning on getting you to make a speech."

"About what?"

"About whatever you want it to be about. Don't ask how, but I am aware that you were an expert writer and speaker back when you were in school. I want you to try to find something to write about."

"Easy," I said blandly. " 'My name is Devin Brooks. You are all well-to-do, happy, rich people. I hate you all. Your president is evil. Have a nice day.' "

The doctor actually cracked an amused smile. Scott sneered in disgust. "If you can elaborate on that, maybe it could have a chance. But you have to be serious, Devin. What could you say that would get everyone's attention?"

"What do you think could get people to notice me? A tear-shedder? A horror story?" I thought for a moment. "Maybe I can express what's happening in an underlying message. Say something, but have a deeper meaning."

"We were thinking that maybe you could appeal to the people's feelings," the doctor chimed. "Tell a story that will either evoke emotion or test morals. You can talk about how you struggled to live for your whole life and your only way out of that was rejected. You can talk about how even the smartest hoodlums are doomed to live in those slums because no college wants to accept them. Even point some fingers. Explain how the president tried to target you. How the president will target you."

"That might not be a good idea," I pointed out. "The president obviously thinks I'm dead. If I point out that I'm still alive and try to attack him, he might feel threatened and try to shut me up for good. He might try to kill me again."

"He won't," Scott said. I put on a poker face. "If you accuse him, any movement to attack you will make him look guilty. He doesn't want to lose the people's support."

"He has a point," the doctor said. "Killing you, even threatening you is the last thing the President will try."

A part of me didn't like the doctor was siding with the puny nurse. I folded my arms and slid my eyes to Scott. "Huh. So you actually are useful."