by Ramsey Isler
Hamilton pointed at her and sneered. “There it is again; my back. You’re not the only one with skin in the game here.”
“Okay, look. I’ll try to keep you more informed on this stuff, okay?”
“Trying isn’t good enough,” Hamilton said. “This is not happening again. I absolutely refuse to be ignored in a company I own a big chunk of.”
“He has a fair point,” Yusef said. “From now on, I think it’s best if we discuss all changes in direction in our weekly meetings.”
Sam shot a glare at Yusef, but he seemed to not notice, or not care. “Fine,” Sam said. “But make no mistakes about who the majority owner is here. At the end of the day these are still my decisions to make.”
“And you should at some point realize that those decisions need support,” Hamilton said. “We can do a lot more by working together.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” Sam said. “Do we have any other business to address for this meeting?”
“Actually,” Jess said, “there’s something I’d like to bring up. It’s an idea I had.”
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Sam said.
“Well, since we’ve got all this surprise positive press going and we’re kind of lifting the veil on all the secrecy surrounding the company, I thought it would be a good idea to run a promotion. Five lucky purchasers of a Better product will get the chance to see the ultra exclusive Better factory. It’ll go viral for sure. It will be like Willy Wonka. People will go nuts over it.”
“Nope,” Sam said. “Can’t do it.”
“And why not?” Jess said.
“I don’t want complete strangers in my...our factory.”
“We can screen them through background checks,” Jessica said. “We’ll have them sign NDAs up the ass, and ban cellphones and cameras.”
“Nope,” Sam said again.
“You’re handcuffing me here, Sam.”
“I thought you liked being handcuffed,” Sam said.
“That’s not funny.” Jess meant it. Her face was more serious than Sam had seen it in years.
“Sorry,” Sam said. “Look, it’s a brilliant idea. It’s absolutely perfect. But the factory is off limits for reasons we’ve discussed many times.”
Jessica shook her head. “We need to come up with something new, Sam. Our competitors aren’t dumb, and they can afford to outspend us in marketing.”
“I know,” Sam said. “But they’ll never have a better product than we do.”
“It does us no good if people don’t know that,” Jess said.
“Oh they’ll know,” Sam said. “Because I trust you to find other brilliant and clever ways to get the word out. You’re resourceful. I’m sure you’ll have other ideas. Just...you know...don’t let those ideas involve anything to do with our manufacturing processes.”
“Okay then,” Jess said as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Back to the drawing board.”
Sam smiled and gave Jess a pat on the back before she turned her attention to the other meeting attendees. “Anything else?”
“Nothing on my side,” Yusef said. “Everything’s running pretty smoothly.”
“And that’s why I like having you around,” Sam said. “Hamilton, anything else to add?”
Hamilton, who had leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms some time ago, said, “I’ve already told you everything I wanted to address.”
“Great,” Sam said as she stood and made her way to the door. “Thanks guys. Looking forward to next week’s get together. Got another meeting now. See ya.”
She was out the door before anyone could say another word.
* * *
Sam left Better headquarters and made her way to the factory for a very different kind of status meeting. Piv had returned from his trip just a few hours ago, and Sam wanted to talk to him. Usually her elf friends would be asleep at this time of day. But she had made it extremely clear to Piv that she wanted an update immediately.
When she arrived at the factory, all was quiet. But something was different. The building was exactly the same, but its surroundings had subtly changed. It took a moment for Sam to realize that the shadows on the ground were odd. She looked up to the trees and found the source of the strangeness.
Crows. Dozens of them.
They were large birds whose black bodies glistened like they were molded out of crude oil. They cast deep shadows on the otherwise sunny ground, and they perched on the wide branches of the tall elm trees that surrounded the factory. Crows in Detroit are usually despised for the racket they make, but these birds were eerily quiet. Dozens of beady crow eyes watched Sam intently.
Sam considered going back to her car and driving away as fast as she could. These crows looked dangerous. As her mind scrambled for the little information she knew about these birds, she remembered what you call a group of crows; a murder.
Oh, Hell no.
Sam had just turned towards her car when the door to the factory opened. It was dark inside, and no one appeared in the doorway. After a moment, a slender brown hand appeared and beckoned her forward. She took a few cautious steps towards the door. The crows didn’t move. Sam kept walking, carefully, until she was inside the factory and closed the door behind her.
The factory was dark, and vacant. The only light came from the sun beaming through the skylight far above. Piv was there. His eyes were half-open and he yawned and stretched his little limbs until his joints popped.
Sam poked him in the chest with her finger. “I’m going to assume you know something about the freaky ass crows outside.”
Piv nodded. “They’re our eyes.”
“Eyes?”
“Yes. They keep watch for us and frighten off anyone who shouldn’t be here.”
“So they’re...security?”
Piv yawned again, and said, “I guess you could say that. I’m sleepy.”
“You can go back to sleep once we’re done here,” Sam said. “How many other elves were you able to recruit?”
Piv rubbed his chin and hummed. “Well, let me think. There’s Jagerfrunt, and Wickiset, and Marshoo, and Kenraken, and Kibblefor, and Pogonip, and Domshin, and Frem, and Nijiko, and—”
“Stop,” Sam said. “I don’t need a full list of their names.”
“Actually,” Piv said. “You do. Remember—”
“Yes, I remember,” Sam said, rolling her eyes, “an elf’s name has power. But I don’t need to know all of their names right now. Just tell me how many there are.”
Piv glared at her and gave her a haughty “Hmph!” as he put his hands on his hips and pouted. But after a moment he touched his fingertips together and started mumbling to himself as he moved his fingers in an odd dance. Sam thought he was trying to put a hex on her until she realized he was actually counting.
“Two hundred and forty three,” Piv said, then he put his hands back on his hips. “Is that enough?”
“Hell, it might be too many,” Sam said. “But at this point I’d rather have extra help than fall short. So where are they?”
“Here and there,” Piv said.
“How far is ’there’?” Sam asked.
“Oh...quite far. Many many many miles.”
“Well, how do you plan to get the others here?”
“Part of that is already done,” Piv said. “When I was gone I came up with an idea and all the other Kith agreed it was a very good idea. They will all congregate in one place. All you have to do is pick up everyone at once.”
“You want me to pick up two hundred and forty three elves at once? How?”
Piv smiled. “Well, that’s the fun part. Noc Noc and Melkidoodum had a lovely suggestion. Since you sent me away on a plane, and it worked out so well, we reckoned it would be a good way to bring the others here. It will be so much fun for them.”
Sam put a hand to her forehead and tried to rub away the headache she felt coming. “A plane. A plane with seating for hundreds. I suppose I should ask which location you guys
chose for the pickup.”
“It’s a place in the middle of the country,” Piv said. “Somewhere near Kansasty?”
“Kansas City,” Sam corrected.
“Yes! That’s it. What’s a Kansas?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Sam said. “So you’re saying I need to get a plane to Kansas City, to pick up over two hundred elves and bring them back here with no one finding out.”
Piv nodded.
Sam laughed. “Sure. No problem. Piece of cake.”
Piv’s eyes widened. “There’s cake?”
* * *
Sam never really appreciated the power of massive amounts of cash until she had to book a jetliner.
After talking to Piv further, it became clear that his idea was the best one; the only option for the great elf transport was to fly them out of Kansas City. To do that, she’d need a big, empty plane. So she rented one.
Sam didn’t realize someone could even do such a thing until she did a little online research and found out that such arrangements were not only possible but relatively common. She booked an Airbus A300B4 passenger jet from Kansas City to Detroit at an exorbitant price. But the cost was negligible compared to the value of over two hundred elf craftsmen she’d never have to pay.
A few days after booking the plane, Sam took a night flight to Kansas City on a much smaller private jet at a much smaller price, and when she landed she didn’t leave the airport. She simply left the terminal and made her way to an isolated stretch of runway where her “goods” were being loaded on the plane. It was late, and the darkness of night surrounded everything beyond the reach of the bright lamps that lit the loading area.
Piv and his cohorts had planned everything ahead of time and ensured Sam that all she needed to do was show up and keep the plane’s passenger door clear for half an hour. She decided the best way to do that was chat up the pilots and put on the necessary boss lady show if she had to.
Her plane was currently having its belly packed with wide cargo containers. As she approached, she saw two gentlemen dressed in ordinary pilot gear. They weren’t associated with any airline, and they only worked for the company that leased out the jets. One of them was in his mid forties with a head of graying hair and an eager smile. His co-pilot was at least a decade younger, two inches shorter, and around twenty pounds heavier.
“Hello, Miss Chablon,” the older pilot said with a salute when she approached. “I’m Captain Rick Dupree and this is my co-pilot, Chris. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I have to say, this is quite an exciting day for me.”
“Really?” Sam said. “Just because of me?”
“Yes indeed, ma’am,” Captain Dupree said in a rich Tennessean accent. “You’re a genuine celebrity now.”
“You must have seen the interview,” Sam said.
“That’s right,” Captain Dupree said.
“Trust me, I’m still just a simple chick who likes to tinker with gadgets.”
Captain Dupree laughed. “Your modesty is astounding, Miss Chablon. But I can understand how one might be a little uncomfortable with so much attention, so I promise to keep my adulation to a minimum.”
“Appreciated,” Sam said.
“Miss Chablon,” Captain Dupree said, “my manifest says that you’re the only passenger on this voyage. Is that true?”
“I’m the only one,” Sam said.
Captain Dupree raised a gray eyebrow. “The only one?”
“Yes. The estimates I gave to your company were just for approximate weight, not actual passenger numbers. I assume that won’t be a problem.”
“If you’re the only one on the plane,” the captain said, “it shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
The cargo boxes were just a ruse, of course. They didn’t weigh as much as they were supposed to, but were voluminous enough to make a casual observer think they did. The real weight would come from the hundreds of Kith sitting in the cabin. Piv had done all the math and assured her that things would be fine. After all, Kith don’t weigh much.
Sam tried to get Piv to convince the others to hide out in the cargo boxes, but he had assured her that was simply not possible. It had been difficult enough to convince some Kith to leave their homes in the first place (many had flat-out refused). A ride in the cabin of an airplane was one of the more enticing terms of the deal. The Kith were going to travel in style, or not at all.
“Just what is in those cargo crates of yours?” Chris the co-pilot asked.
“Lightweight watch components,” Sam said. It wasn’t a lie. There were hundreds of lightweight pieces of aluminum and stainless steel in there that would eventually become the guts of new Better products.
“Just wanted to be sure,” Chris said. “We have to make sure everything is balanced properly.”
“Of course,” Sam said. Piv had planned that part out too. He studied the A300B4 technical and operating manuals in great detail, and he mapped out a seating chart that would keep the plane perfectly balanced so the pilots would have nothing to worry about.
“You know,” Captain Dupree continued, “it would have been a lot easier if you had just put this stuff on a cargo plane. Would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper, too.”
“Yes, I know,” Sam said. This trip was costing her $15,000 per hour. “But I needed this done immediately and secretly, and this was the quickest way to do it. Besides, just between you and me, I always wanted to ride in a plane by myself.”
“I see,” Captain Dupree said. “Well it’s certainly not my place to tell somebody how to spend their money. We’re ready to go whenever you are, Ms. Chablon.”
“Oh please. I’m not that old yet. Call me Sam. And I think we should give it another fifteen minutes or so just to make sure everything’s loaded properly. In the meantime, please tell me more about the plane.”
Captain Dupree then eagerly launched into a diatribe about the finer points of the A300B4 and its storied career as a passenger and cargo liner. By the time he was done, plenty of time had passed and Sam was sure the Kith had finished boarding. She encouraged Captain Dupree and Chris to get the trip started, and they all climbed up the gangway and into the plane. The pilots took their places in the cockpit and began preparations for takeoff while Sam found a seat in the seemingly empty passenger cabin.
Piv appeared in the seat next to Sam with a mischievous grin on his face. “Do you see?” he whispered. “They don’t even know we’re here.”
“Just be quiet so we can keep it that way,” Sam said. “And tell the others to stay quiet too. I’m pretty sure I heard some giggles earlier.”
Piv’s smile disappeared. “I will relay the message,” he said. Then he was gone.
Sam slowly exhaled and stretched her legs out, taking full advantage of the first-class legroom. She hit the button on her armrest that allowed her seat to recline, and tried her best to relax. Soon, she heard whirrs, clicks, and bumps from somewhere underneath her. Final preparations were being made, and the plane would soon be off.
The A300B4 taxied into position and the pilots waited for clearance from the control tower. After a short wait, the plane’s gigantic twin engines roared and spat out tons of thrust to get the massive vehicle moving. Acceleration pressed Sam gently into her seat until the plane was airborne and she felt the curious sensation of moving skyward. This was all familiar for Sam since she’d been on many plane trips. The Kith, however, were flipping out.
With the incessant droning of the engines, Sam wasn’t concerned about the hundreds of Kith on the plane making noise. There was a constant chatter in the cabin, and a multitude of gleeful sounds as the plane passed over a bright city scene with a web of orange lights interrupting the darkness. It was a clear night with few clouds, and the Kith were treated to wonderful nighttime views of the landscape far below them.
The flight was only about ninety minutes long, and the plane was already prepping for landing before the Kith had a chance to really annoy Sam. Her ears popped constantly on the quick descent to Detr
oit Metropolitan Airport so she couldn’t hear much, but she guessed that the Kith were quite excited as the ground came back into view again.
Captain Dupree and Chris landed the massive aircraft with practiced ease and the plane taxied smoothly to their cargo terminal. Sam had arranged for a large semi-truck to haul the watch parts back to the new factory, and the shipping company she hired would manage all the offloading. The Kith, however, would take a much different path back to Birmingham. They would be walking.
Sam had tried to reason with the tiny triumvirate about this, but Piv and Noc Noc insisted that the recently relocated Kith would want a chance to explore their new surroundings, and would prefer to travel the 28 miles back to Better Timepieces on foot. “It won’t take that long,” Piv assured her. “Kith can move rather quickly when we want to.”
So Sam left it at that.
Now, with the plane landed and being offloaded, she just had to make sure the Kith could get off the plane and away from the airport without any trouble. The biggest obstacle to that goal would be the pilots.
“Great flight guys,” Sam said when the two pilots emerged from the cockpit. “I believe you’re done for the evening?”
“Yes we are,” Captain Dupree said. “We’ve got a group of wealthy tourists coming in from Hong Kong tomorrow afternoon. We stay here until then.”
“So you’re off duty,” Sam said.
“Once we’re done wrapping up here,” co-pilot Chris said.
“Then would you mind joining me for a celebratory cocktail or two?”
“We still have a couple of things to do,” Chris said. “Besides, there isn’t a decent bar around here.”
“There is now,” Sam said. She pointed out one of the planes oval windows. A long black limo was pulling up next to the plane.
“The welcoming party,” Sam said. “The limo has an impressive mini-bar, and I make a mean martini.”
Chris grimaced. “Well...”
“Oh come on,” Captain Dupree said. “Didn’t your daddy ever tell you that it’s uncouth to decline a drink from a pretty young lady?”