I’m continuing on with my trio of interviews. This week, in my second interview, I speak to Charles Deighton, the main antagonist in the Exilon 5 Trilogy.
If you didn’t catch Bill and Laura’s interview, you can read it here.
I’m whispering to my producer, because I have secured an interview with one of the most elusive figures in the world and he has just arrived. Charles Deighton, the CEO for the World Government, has agreed to meet with me. It wasn’t that long since my interview with Bill Taggart and Laura O’Halloran and I freely admit that I’m nervous about meeting the man they’ve so staunchly warned me about.
Charles Deighton steps inside the interview room, shadowed by the largest bodyguard I have ever seen—as tall as he is wide and muscular. Mr. Deighton keeps his gaze on me. There is a faint smile on his lips. I don’t know why but my nerves are jangling as if someone lit a match and set fire to them.
We shake hands—I notice his grip is firm—and he sits down on the chair that I gesture to. He purses his lips and blinks a couple of times. His entire movement looks orchestrated.
‘Mr. Deighton, I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. May I call you Charles?’
‘You may not,’ he answers coldly.
I find my hands are shaking and I struggle to compose myself. ‘Apologies—Mr. Deighton,’ I say. ‘For the benefit of the audience, can you tell me what you do?’
‘I am the CEO for the World Government, the organisation responsible for all of Earth and Exilon 5.’ He crosses one leg over the other.
‘Yes, I’ve heard some great things about this new planet, located 30 light years away,’ I reply. ‘The Earth is in a state of demise and I understand the transfer programme, designed to relocate the population on Earth to Exilon 5, is well underway. How long before all 20 billion people are moved from one planet to the other?’
I notice a flicker of emotion in Deighton’s eyes just before he looks away. ‘It will take some time.’
‘Can you elaborate for me please?’
Deighton turns his gaze back and he studies me. I feel a chill run the entire length of my spine. A sudden regret at having arranged this interview consumes me. But then his expression softens and he laughs a little. ‘My dear, we are about to embark on one of the biggest relocations in the history of mankind and you want me to elaborate on WHEN that will happen?’
I hold my nerve as I answer, ‘Yes.’
Deighton switches his gaze from me to his hands. ‘I would have to look into my crystal ball, Ms. Green, and unfortunately I did not bring it with me.’ He looks up and smiles at me with an all-teeth smile.
I try to hide my shiver.
‘Okay, can you tell me a little about the people who have transferred to Exilon 5 and how they are settling in?’
‘No, and very well, thank you.’ He clears his throat.
My heart is pounding in my chest but a part of me is beginning to wonder why Deighton agreed to this interview; he does not seem interested in sharing. He needs to know I am not willing to put up with this ‘joke’ of an interview. I need to push him. ‘So you’re saying they’re managing in spite of the threat from the Indigenes who, as I understand, are not the barbaric race they have been created by the World Government media to be?’
I notice Deighton shift in his chair at the mention of the race that was discovered to be living on Exilon 5. He is glaring at me now. It’s clear I’ve hit a nerve but he composes himself with alarming speed. ‘The race is no threat, my dear. Your sources have been feeding you a pack of lies.’
‘Well, why are they living underground, in fear of the people who reside in the manmade cities above them?’
I’m not prepared for the sudden change as Deighton angrily slams his fist onto his leg. ‘And who told you that exactly?’
Out of fear, I scoot my chair back. He stands up, looking as if he’s about to lunge at me. I regret pushing him. ‘Your threats will not work on me,’ I say, but the words come out as barely a whisper.
‘This interview is over,’ Deighton announces. I notice he is shaking, with anger I presume, or for some other reason I’m not aware of. He clicks his fingers and his bodyguard is suddenly at his shoulder, steering him towards the door. Deighton holds his hand up and the bodyguard stands to attention. He turns around to face me.
‘Eliza Green—is that what you said your name was?’ His tone is calm and he is smiling, but there is palpable tension in the air. Even my producer, normally so vocal, is quiet as a mouse. I nod. ‘I’ll be sure to say hello to your family the next time I bump into them.’
The moment he leaves I rush to my bag and pull out my digital pad. I dial a number. There’s no answer. The tears threaten to fall. I draw in a shaky breath. I have no proof of any misconduct towards my family and I must keep it together. There’s one more interview I must conduct.