by AJ Vega
Chapter 13: Mysterious Contact
Dagiri stared intently at the holographic display over his desk. It showed production and inventory levels of Elation; both were disappointing figures. Even though production was running at barely adequate levels, inventory levels remained high.
He thumbed a holographic button, flipping the image to show sales output in conjunction with inventory levels across a calculated line graph. As the inventory levels climbed, the sales line dipped sharply. Demand was simply too low.
Peripherally, he could see someone enter his office. He glared at the figure of the production manager’s assistant as he dared enter his office unannounced and walk over to him.
The wiry-looking idiot stood over Dagiri’s desk stiffly, holding a data disc that he laid down. The man waited for acknowledgement, with a somewhat smug expression. Apparently, he did not know Dagiri.
“What are you?” Dagiri said.
The man blinked. “What? What do you mean, sir?”
“I said…” Dagiri stood up, pulling a flicker pistol invisibly from his jacket. “What are you?”
The assistant glanced at the pistol in his hand and began to tremble.
“I’m, uh, the assistant manager of production, sir!”
“No!” Dagiri shouted. “Wrong!”
Dagiri aimed the pistol at him and fired. A bolt of energy flashed, lighting the room for an instant. A bang followed by a hiss sounded as the assistant dropped to the floor, clutching his right leg and groaning in pain. A swirl of smoke rose up from the burn wound in his shin.
“You are nothing but cheap furniture!” Dagiri yelled, glowering over him. “You do not belong in my office. You are of inferior construction and must be moved to the appropriate area.”
At this point, the imposing figure of Hargo stood at the doorway surveying the scene. He cast a questioning look at Dagiri.
“Hargo, good timing,” Dagiri said. “I want you to take this piece of furniture and hang it on the wall of the production facility. It will stay there for a few days so that everyone can gaze upon it. After which, if it is still breathing, it can return to work.”
Hargo moved toward the hysterical figure on the floor without saying a word. He picked him up by the leg and dragged him out of the office kicking and screaming.
At this point, Steve now stood at the doorway. Dagiri could see a nervous look prevalent on his face.
“I hope you have good news, Steve,” Dagiri said, waving the gun in his hand. “It would not be very good timing otherwise.”
Steve stepped into the room with a digital clipboard in his hand. He handed it to Dagiri.
“It is good news, sir,” Steve said. “The hackers have broken down the security system housing the A.I. machine. Apparently, an order has already been given to have the machine moved from Earth to right here, sir—Mars. It will be moved in two days.”
Dagiri let himself relax a bit as he hid the pistol back inside his jacket.
“This is good news, indeed. What arrangements have you made?”
“I’ve obtained the exact course plots from the hackers and relayed them to Hargo. The convoy would be heavily guarded by a group of scout ships. However, the hackers have arranged it so the two cargo ships will only have three light scout escorts. Once the convoy drops into the Martian space vicinity, we will attack it and be off with the cargo before Enforcement ever shows up.”
“Very good,” Dagiri said. “You will have redeemed yourself if you can pull this off. Make sure that Hargo and his men are adequately equipped. I know it’s only three escort ships, but I don’t want any surprises. You’ve proven yourself useful. Now go.”
Steve fled the room, closing the office door behind him.
Dagiri looked around the office. He felt a reverberation from the oak wood colored walls; the paintings seemed to vibrate. He looked down toward the scale model of Mars in the center of the office; it too seemed to focus in and out, vibrating with the rest of the room.
He heard laughter around him; he whirled around the room trying to pinpoint it. He could see the faces in the wall staring at him—they were the corporate bosses. They ridiculed him, teased him, laughed at him. Reveling in their own success, they mocked him—mocked his underworld status.
Dagiri closed his eyes and covered his ears, trying to silence them. Instead, they closed in around him—he could feel their breath on him.
Feeling ready to snap, Dagiri rushed to his desk and grabbed the Elation charge. He slapped it to the side of his neck and let the power of the drug seep in. The hiss from the charge seemed to last forever and echo through his mind. The room stopped vibrating, and his senses sharpened again. The laughter stopped, the faces disappeared.
The drug satisfied his needs… for now, but all it did was delay the inevitable. He knew the rage inside him was building and he needed to succeed in order to calm it permanently. He would silence the laughter of the corporate bosses once and for all, but only with assured success.