The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 26

This was followed by applause.

Rachel's heart froze. F-U-C-K Was this just empty business jargon, an attempt to scam money from the investors, or could they really do this? Was it legal? Whatever it was, it seemed to be a huge threat to America. Despite never feeling particularly patriotic, Rachel felt that this could make Hunter's career.

The Mel started swearing in a mixture of German and English. Volt's voice was faint, and with the woman speaking, Rachel couldn't hear what was going on. Rachel realized she was doing the wrong thing. It was all recording. She could play it back later using Audible when she had her computer at hand.

"You OK?" Rachel said to the Mel, leaving the game playing and recording.

"Yeah, damn machine is slow," the woman said.

Rachel moved closer to look at the computer. It was a lightweight HP laptop running Word at the moment.

"I have the exact same kind of problem all the time," Rachel said. "Oh, I'm Rachel."

The blonde nodded her head. "Yeah, Volk told me about you. You're Levant's girlfriend, Rachel Price, right?"

"He said we were alike--he said you were much smarter... I don't know the English. I'm Melanie. Mel," Mel said, holding out her hand.

Rachel could never believe how friendly people were to her as Rachel. Denver would have never spoken to Mel, and she probably would have moved away if he had approached. Rachel moved closer to see the screen.

"Okay, save the work and try rebooting the machine. When it boots up again, turn the Wi-Fi off. it's trying to connect to something and not finding what it needs."

Rachel glanced at the screen. Mel was processing some numbers in Excel. One column had the title 'predicted poll share.' Mel did as Rachel suggested. The copy of Word took a few minutes to save.

"Don't touch it," Rachel warned as Mel reached to terminate the program. "Let it save."

Mel grinned, her expression reflecting both frustration and amusement. "An entire PhD, and I can't get Word and Excel to cooperate," she remarked, taking a final drag of her cigarette before extinguishing it.

Rachel leaned back in her chair, curiosity evident in her eyes. "What was your PhD in?"

"Mathematics of social network analysis," Mel replied, fully aware that the topic usually halted conversations in their tracks.

Rachel smiled, appreciating the unexpected answer. "Well, that wouldn't have been my first guess. I was leaning towards a different career path, but that just proves how shallow I can be. I can see why Volk sees value in your expertise. So, are you employed by Volk or is it more of a collaboration?"

Mel shrugged nonchalantly. "I work with him. I sleep with him."

As they waited for the Word document to finish saving and the machine to reboot, they exchanged glances, acknowledging the complexity of their connection.

"It sounds like a demanding arrangement," Rachel commented, her voice tinged with both admiration and curiosity. "I suppose you thrive on the intensity?"

Mel nodded, gesturing with her index finger as if holding a cigarette, despite having put it out. "Exactly. It's that intensity that keeps me engaged."

"What was your PhD in? How computers connect?" Rachel inquired, partly aiming to challenge Mel's belief that discussing her PhD would be a conversation stopper.

Mel's face lit up with a smile. "No, it's actually about how people connect. There are mathematical patterns at play. For instance, if your friends tend to be overweight, you are more likely to be overweight as well. By inputting such data into a machine and utilizing Eigenvector analysis, we can make predictions... but Volk had a valid point."

Curiosity piqued, Rachel probed further. "Right about what?"

"He said you were easy to talk to," Mel revealed, her gaze fixed on Rachel. "You were the only one who congratulated him during the Italian trial. He mentioned that you were the only person who truly grasped his genius."

Mel's words conveyed that she possessed insider knowledge, implying that Rachel was part of an inner circle. Rachel contemplated whether she should play along to gather more information, all the while hoping she wouldn't be perceived as a spy.

Leaning back in her chair, Rachel responded, maintaining an air of diplomacy. "It was indeed a remarkable tribute to his technology. Or perhaps I should say 'our' technology?"

Mel's cheeks hinted at a blush as she hesitated, searching for the right words. "It was a... well..."

Rachel offered a suggestion, completing Mel's sentence. "A joint effort?"

Mel's smile returned, relief evident in her eyes. "Yes, precisely. A joint effort. I handled the equations, while Volk envisioned its practical applications. Initially, I hadn't considered the possibilities as he did. His passion was unmatched during that time. They truly incensed him. First, denying me a visa. Then, they..."

Intrigued, Rachel leaned forward, her curiosity unabated. "Who are 'they'?"

"By 'they,' I mean the university. They ceased his funding. They halted his publications, citing national secrecy as the reason. But in reality, it was the other professors backstabbing him. They left no stone unturned to hinder him--preventing him from publishing, obtaining grants, or securing students. They even feigned concerns about his ethical clearance. So he said, 'Fuck you, fuck you, I'll show you all, you fuckers.'"

The computer rebooted, displaying a screen full of equations.

The computer completed its reboot, presenting a screen filled with intricate equations and formulas.

"That's your work?" Rachel exclaimed, pointing at the display. Mel nodded, a mix of pride and confusion crossing her face. "You truly surpass envy."

Mel's confusion deepened. "Surpass envy?"

Rachel leaned back, gathering her belongings - her bag, phone, and coffee - and moved closer to Mel. "You're incredibly talented. Mind if I join you?"

Mel shifted her body, a gesture indicating her acceptance. Rachel quickly checked if her game was still in progress before pulling it closer alongside her coffee.

"You are not only good, but also beautiful and smart. It's a rare combination," Rachel remarked, a genuine admiration in her voice.

Mel glanced over, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and gratitude. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Rachel affirmed. "Just look at you. You're stunning. I mean, your hair is absolutely incredible. When I first saw you, I thought you were someone like me, just Volk's plus one. But in reality, you're so much more."

Mel instinctively touched her hair, puzzled by Rachel's laughter. "Haha, you like my hair? Volk took a picture of you and convinced me to get the same style. Why are you laughing?"

Rachel grinned, a sense of connection forming between them. "Because it was actually Levant who convinced me to get my hair done like this. But you wear it so much better."

Both women burst into laughter, sharing a light-hearted moment of camaraderie.

"We should all have dinner together, the four of us," Rachel suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Mel's face lit up, mirroring Rachel's enthusiasm. "That would be wonderful. We're planning to move to San Francisco and get ready for phase four. The demonstrations are over, your man says it's time to start doing it for real. Its going to take time there, so it would be great to get to know some people."

Rachel's soul felt chilled. Levant was selling democracy to the highest bidder. Hunter had to get this information, he would know what to do.

Rachel's smile continued to illuminate her face, each moment bringing her newfound joy. Life seemed to be a cascade of smiles for Rachel, almost to the point where her face began to ache. "Perhaps you could stay at the Asylum while you're looking for a place?"

Mel's expression brightened. "That sounds lovely," she agreed, the prospect of shared moments and new beginnings adding to her excitement.

"So, are you having problems connecting to Ólafur Traustadóttir's servers?" Rachel suggested. That was enough to show she was in the inner circle.

Mel looked over. "With the upgraded software Volk can make people believe that Richard Nixon was America's greatest president. People will believe, even remember, anything we want, but eats compute cycles. All that listening and attention giving takes time and power. What Levant doesn't realise is if he wants to get elected in America, he's going to need far more servers. My software bellwether software identifies thought leaders but that still needs a lot of computing power to run all the AI to change people's minds."

"More is going to appear," Rachel said. You didn't need a degree in computing and mathematics to figure out this is why Douglas needed more than his money to spot this.

Just then, the conference adjourned, and people stepped beyond the security boundaries to grab more coffee.

------------- Encounters ------------

Rachel was on her own back at the hotel. While she did she listened to more of the recording on her headphones. This was explosive, she would have to find a way of quietly getting an international call. She might have to sit on the recordings until she got home and sneaked out.

Rachel had spent most of the afternoon talking to Mel. They had got on well but Rachel was now sweating in her new silicon pants. She was afraid she might drip and stain the abaya. Given it's status as a gift from the the Prince she wanted to have a shower or something.

She walked into hotel and strolled to the glass elevator and moved forward pressing the floor button. Decided the desert gaff was good, being able to pee with out re-strapping was a god send. Trying to go while still wearing something was off putting initially. It would take more work to master. The strange thing was when Rachel had sat down on the only Western toilet in the meeting place. When she had stared looking down she could see the prosthetic camel toe between her open legs it was disturbing. It was more disturbing because it wasn't disturbing. Normally unfolding what Charlie called Will-i-am, felt like a alien emerging from Rachel's flesh. Like seeing the metal bones under the terminator. Denver would then pee, wiped and then Will-i-am got ritually folded and taped away. Just going while still being Rachel felt less like breaking the spell. In watching the prosthetic actually peeing was a weird sensation. It felt part of Rachel's body. Like she was a weird silicon girl doll.

'Doctor Cooper would have an entire session on this alone.' She thought getting into the elevator.

In the conference centre toilet she had touched the fake labia. The fact she was willing to accept this as her flesh was preternatural. Someone stepped in the elevator behind her. Rachel decided if she was designing it there would be some way to transmit sensation back. She then caught herself and realised what she was thinking.

"This is fucking weird" Rachel said aloud meaning the way the desert gaff was infecting her mind.

Her voice echoed through the elevator, laden with a mix of disbelief and unease, as if grappling to comprehend the surreal turn of events.

Suddenly, a voice sliced through the air, emerging from the shadows behind her.

"How did you know it was me?" Hunter's voice said.

Rachel's body tensed, her heart leaping in her chest as she spun around to face the unexpected intruder.

"Hunter! I'm so glad to see you! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, her words punctuated by a potent blend of frustration and surprise.

Hunter, who had entered the elevator unnoticed, stood behind her, his gaze downcast as if weighed down by the gravity of the situation. Rachel hadn't detected his presence, her senses momentarily clouded by the chaos unfolding inside her. Regret flickered in her eyes as she realized her oversight.

"Levant vanished when I and the IRS people arrived with a warrant," Hunter explained, his voice tinged with confusion. "I'm puzzled about how he knew there was a mole in the FBI."

Rachel's mind raced, connecting the dots with remarkable swiftness. "He's knows with the judge who issued the warrant," she revealed, her tone laced with a hint of bitterness. "They play golf together."

Hunter nodded, his expression reflecting a mixture of comprehension and concern.

"Right. He fled because he's hiding something. And you disappeared with him. I was worried about you."

Caught in a momentary lull, Rachel glanced back, her eyes searching for something, anything to ground her. Without any particular reason, an impulsive urge took hold, and she leaned in, pressing her lips against Hunter's. It was a fleeting, spontaneous act, an unspoken reassurance conveyed through a simple gesture.

"Didn't you follow my Twitter feed?" Rachel teased, a hint of playful defiance in her voice. "I'm fine."

The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension and unanswered questions, leaving Rachel and Hunter suspended in a liminal space, their fates entwined in a web of secrecy and danger.

"I did, and it's full of faces that worry me," Hunter replied. "Besides, Twitter feeds can be fabricated."

Rachel grabbed Hunter's hand. "You need to get out of here before Levant finds you. This is significant. It's fucking massive. I think he possesses a machine capable of manipulating elections. I have a recording of everything. Do you have a phone?" Rachel asked, reaching for his phone and unlocking it. She took it and transmitted the sound file between devices.

"What's that?" Hunter inquired.

"It's the result of a bug I planted on Levant," Rachel explained.

They were approaching her floor.

Hunter tilted his head. "A bug? First, you hack his laptop, and now this. What happened to being a klutz with numbers? You're with the NCSA, aren't you? Or is it MI6? I can deconflict with you people, you know that, right?"

"You have to deliver that file to someone you can trust," Rachel insisted. "Just promise me not to take action yet. I need more time. We need more evidence. Be careful about who you give the file to."

"What's going on?" Hunter pressed.

"I can't tell you now. It's too vast, too intricate, too dangerous," Rachel replied. "I'll come to your room. Where is it?"

"4040," Hunter responded. "Why can't you come with me now?"

The elevator stopped on Hunter's floor.

"I need to change..." Rachel said her parts swimming in salt "It's a long story. I'll see you in half an hour in your room."

*******

Rushed to her suite and dashed in. She managed to get undressed. The desert gaff stank. She frantically showered her legs and then changed into a normal gaff.

Rachel hastily pulled on a sleek pair of black leggings, allowing the fabric to embrace her legs with a form-fitting magnetism. She then pulled on a Valentino Garavani Duchesse-satin mini dress

In grey that exuded a heightened sense of allure and sophistication. Rachel looked at her self in the mirror. The dress gracefully accentuated her figure, draping her in an elegant and alluring aura.

"Not fuck me, but you know. Close enough to make him do a double take." Rachel said to reflection as she straightened herself up.

Why she so enjoyed flirting with Hunter went as far over her head as a Pekingese Dog mistakenly entered in to a Spelling Bee. With an hastening pace, Rachel hurried towards floor 40, her footsteps echoing along the corridor as she counted the room numbers in her mind. The anticipation and urgency were palpable, fueling her determined stride. Every passing moment brought her closer to the pivotal encounter that awaited her.

However, as she navigated the hallway, a sudden jolt disrupted her momentum. Out of nowhere, Jerry, emerged from behind, catching her off guard. His swift action and firm grasp stopped her progress, evoking a momentary sense of surprise and alarm.

"Jerry?" Rachel said being pulled into a near by room. "What the fuck Jerry!"

She fought against Jerry's iron grip, her struggle echoing in the air, but his unyielding strength prevailed, overpowering her desperate attempts to break free. With a forceful push, he propelled her through the door, the impact jolting her into the room beyond. As she stumbled, her eyes widened, taking in the scene that awaited her.

Inside the room stood Levant, Lucy, and a formidable duo adorned in ominous dark police uniforms. Their stern countenances projected an air of authority, silently signaling the gravity of the situation. A table took center stage, adorned with a screen displaying a live feed, capturing the intimate details of a room, undoubtedly belonging to Hunter. Another monitor, strategically positioned, captured the view of the dimly lit hallway, ensuring nothing escaped their vigilant gaze.

Levant's expression mirrored his displeasure, etched lines of concern creasing his brow as he peered at Rachel, his piercing gaze demanding answers. The weight of his gaze settled heavily upon her, leaving her momentarily speechless, her voice caught in the midst of unfinished words.

Levant's expression mirrored his displeasure, etched lines of concern creasing his brow as he peered at Rachel, his piercing gaze demanding answers. The weight of his gaze settled heavily upon her, leaving her momentarily speechless, her voice caught in the midst of unfinished words.

"What were you doing here?" Levant interjected sharply.

"I was..." Rachel began, her voice trailing off.

"You were going to see him?" Levant interjected sharply, his finger pointing towards the image of Hunter captured on the screen. The accusation hung heavy in the room, each word laced with a mix of disdain and incredulity.

Levant assumed a seated position on a chair, reminiscent of a throne. "Jerry spotted you. Kissing in the elevator."

"I can explain," Rachel pleaded, still caught within Jerry's grip as her slender arms contorted. "Let me go."

Levant nodded at Jerry, signaling his compliance.

Levant settled into the chair with an air of authority, his posture exuding an aura reminiscent of a regal throne. Every movement he made seemed calculated, as if every gesture served to reinforce his command over the room. As he took his seat, his presence seemed to expand, filling the space with an undeniable sense of power.

Rachel, still trapped within Jerry's unyielding grip, pleaded desperately for release. Her delicate frame contorted against the force of his hold, her slender arms straining against his grasp. Her eyes, filled with a mix of fear and determination, locked onto Levant, seeking a moment of reprieve.

Levant, in response to Rachel's pleas, nodded at Jerry, a silent directive that released her from his grasp. As the tension in her limbs eased, she fought to gather her composure, her voice trembling with a blend of fear and conviction.

"Okay, you caught me," Rachel began, her voice resolute, "but you'll understand once I've finished." Determination dripped from her words, her eyes blazing with an unwavering resolve.

Levant's gaze bore into her with unwavering intensity, his eyes fixed upon her as if searching for any hint of deceit. The weight of his scrutiny threatened to consume her, but she steeled herself, ready to unveil her explanation.

"But I don't believe you want these others to overhear," Rachel cautioned, her voice laced with an undercurrent of caution. Her words hung in the air, carrying with them the weight of unspoken truths.

"They are staying," Levant declared firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. The finality in his tone underscored his authority, sealing the fate of those present in the room.

Rachel put her hands to her head. "OK. OK. I was going to have sex with him. OK," she confessed.

"Sex with him?" Levant said.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Rachel began, using her hand to gesture. "I was thinking about the contract, and I had this moment of revelation. Like this huge thing, right? I thought, you know, maybe I can do this. Douglas will like this. But then I kept wondering, what happens if I puke up? What happens if I promise and I can't deliver? What if I freeze up? Then I would feel terrible, and I couldn't come through. Josh wasn't here, Peter... well, he can't. So I thought I would practice on a stranger. Then I could, you know, do you," Rachel said. "See, see, yeah, that's my problem. Not your problem, my problem. I just thought I could practice on him... If it was fine, I could still have time to rework the contract."