Macbeth, Act II part ii

Jamien Macduff, a head assistant to President Duncan, arrived early the next morning in Macbeth's sector of the station to awaken him, as per orders. The president had made it clear that he was to be awakened early if anything out of the ordinary occurred. The out-of-ordinary had occurred. Rumors spread like chickenpox concerning that fateful night. Some said gravity ceased to function in some sectors, which is absurd, considering that the station's gravity was supplied by centripetal force created by the station's spin. The gravity could not simply stop in portions of the wheel, could it? It did. Similarly, there could not have been animals' howls through the night—the only animals on Olympus were Human and Velda. Neither of which regularly howled. Reports of black birds of varying sizes flying around were submitted for review, as well. Several of the reports included detailed descriptions of the smaller birds violently attacking the larger ones and barbarically consuming them.
Macduff arrived at Sector C-6, and called through the intercom to Macbeth's room. Macbeth, awake, staring intensely at nothing with a dull look of utter emotionlessness, took several moments to notice the intercom's beeping. “Oh!” his eyes moved toward the panel, and his forefinger tapped Accept.
“Good morning,” came the voice of Macduff through the speaker—Macbeth mumbled a quiet sarcastic comment about the morning's lack of good, and the voice continued, “Is the president stirring, hero?”
“Not yet.”
“He did command me to call timely on him: I have almost slipped the hour.”
“I'll send you to him.” Macbeth lit the colored lights in the hallway, illuminating a path to Duncan's chamber.
Within a few infinitely long minutes came a panicked voice over the intercom; “O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee.”
Macbeth, knowing full-well what the matter was, inquired, “What's the matter?”
The beloved president had been murdered, and—with no functioning security cameras that night—there was no one available to blame for his death. The virus that had disabled the cameras was so well-written that Lednars were the only possible culprits. Macbeth had even thought to use an archival, slightly-altered, video and time-stamp it so that it appeared to have been taken the night of the murder. The video, along with a fabricated log, showed that some people mysteriously arrived and left in the dead of the night. He covered all his traces, and placed the blame on untraceable people. His plan was infallible. There was no doubt.