Sinclair spent the next half-hour detailing how his new Freedom Homes would use proprietary inventions to create electricity, heat and cool homes, and grow food using a twist on hydroponic farming. For single-family houses, he showed how the homes captured water and filtered it. Every detail was meticulously accounted for as he explained how each system worked to the crowd, which seemed mesmerized by his lecture, oohing and ahhing as Sinclair revealed each feature.
“In closing, I want to point out that we’ve been quietly building these homes in several communities in the United States,” Sinclair said. “We found willing neighborhoods in Jacksonville, Florida; Savannah, Georgia; Charleston, South Carolina; and New Orleans, Louisiana, and constructed more than five hundred homes in total. And we’ll be soon publishing studies about how the first six months have been for those residents.”
Sinclair wrapped up his speech and receiving a standing ovation. He clasped his hands together and bowed before striding off the stage.
After he reached the wings, one of the symposium organizers greeting Sinclair, vigorously shaking his hand.
“That was incredible,” the man said. “The people here ate it up. What an amazing addition to our society.”
Sinclair smiled wryly. “That’s exactly what we were going for.”
CHAPTER 16
Paris, France
ALEX WRESTLED WITH HER blonde wig before popping in her green contacts. She was always amazed what a different cut and color could do to a person’s face. But then changing the eye color took disguises to a different level. As she studied her face in the mirror, she hardly recognized the woman staring back at her.
I’ll never get over how weird this is.
“Are you sure Sinclair won’t recognize me?” she asked as she exited the bathroom.
Hawk smiled and shook his head. “Not a chance, but he will take notice. You can bet on that.”
She gestured toward her long, black dress with a plunging neckline. “This is quite a bit different than the frumpy catering uniform I wore at the race track.”
“I don’t care how good of a memory he has, there’s no way he’s going to give a second thought to the notion that he just saw you in Italy.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “Otherwise, we’re going to have some big problems on our hands.”
Alex snatched the media credential for the symposium at the Pasteur Institute off the counter and headed toward the door, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She glanced around at the place that Pierce Sterling considered modest.
“Mr. Sterling,” she said, casting a long look at their host and new partner, “we need to have a talk about what the phrase modest accommodations mean when we return.”
“I suppose you need to see my other home to understand where I’m coming from,” Sterling said.
“Is it the Taj Mahal?” Hawk asked.
“Closer to Buckingham Palace,” Sterling said. “I prefer to use iconic architecture from the homeland for comparison rather than places from the commonwealth.”
“Duly noted,” Alex said before the trio walked out of the door and hustled down to Sterling’s car.
Once they arrived at the Pasteur Institute, Alex and Sterling were ushered to the reserved seating for journalists. Sinclair paced as he explained the evolution of smart homes and how his new Freedom Homes were going to be vital in transforming the way people lived. Alex had heard it all before and wasn’t impressed. Sinclair’s ideas weren’t novel, but he had more capital than anyone else previously who’d attempted to influence the world in such a profound way. As utopian as the idea sounded, Alex couldn’t imagine that Sinclair’s motives behind such an idea were purely altruistic, no matter what he said.
You couldn’t pay me enough to live in one of his houses.
Upon Sinclair’s closing remarks, she watched with disdain as everyone rose to their feet, applauding the unveiling of Freedom Homes. Even the journalists broke protocol, enthusiastically shouting and cheering for the idea. When she walked into the room designated for media interviews, Alex grew more sickened by the blatant ogling from the press corps.
“Would you believe all these bootlickers?” Alex asked Sterling, who joined her posing as a podcast host while Hawk remained in the car.
“It’s utterly disgusting,” Sterling replied in a hushed tone. “And this is also why we’ve got to take him down as soon as we get a chance. Members of the media love this guy and act as if he walks on water. They’ll cover for him every step of the way, claiming that what he’s doing trumps what kind of person he is.”
“And completely unaware of how he’d trample their precious freedom of the press given the opportunity.”
Sterling nodded. “Let’s make the most of this today, shall we?”
Alex and Sterling endured an endless list of favorable questioning. No push back on how the AI in Freedom Homes was designed to operate. No inquiries into how much electricity these houses would make or even how much they would cost.
“We’re going to be swimming in unicorns and rainbows by the time this is over with,” Alex said.
Her coms were on, allowing Hawk access to the barrage of questions where journalists were eager to signal their approval for all of Sinclair’s ideas. He chuckled on occasion, providing unfiltered commentary in the ears of his two colleagues.
“If someone doesn’t ask Sinclair if his dumps smell like roses or lavender, I’ll be shocked,” Hawk said.
Alex and Sterling looked each other and smiled. She fought hard to suppress an audible giggle but eventually succeeded. After twenty minutes, the host shut down the questions and ushered Sinclair off the stage. Once he was taken into the back corridor, one of the media relations team members gestured to Alex and Sterling to join him.
“Mr. Sinclair doesn’t have much time,” the man said. “So, please keep your questions brief. That will give him ample time to expound upon whatever idea he
