“As you can see, our output from quality control has held mostly level this last quarter, despite the dip in output from the two riots. The problem is that upper management wants a yield increase of at least two and a half percent per quarter in order to keep up with rising demand. We did well to make sure these incidents didn’t affect the bottom line, but in the future we’re going to need to take precautions and estimate that we’ll have a near five percent loss in output from worker satisfaction incidents. This won’t make corporate happy in budgeting.”
“Unless we put a stop to these riots,” Antonio said, seated across from Daniella.
Dario slid into a seat next to Antonio. Jake sat behind the translucent graph projection toward the end of the table, giving Dario a slight inclination of his head in acknowledgement. Dario looked away almost immediately, not yet having had time to confront Jake since he found out his involvement with the underlevelers. What could he say that wouldn’t sound accusatory?
“That’s right,” Daniella said, taking her own seat. “I’ve crunched the numbers on that and we’ll meet or exceed expectations if we can facilitate that. The question is how?” She flicked her eyes over to Dario, stiffening. “Mr. Anazao, sorry to begin our daily meeting without you.”
“No problem, Daniella,” Dario said. Listening to the topic, the numbers frightened him, but filled him with hope at the same time. The groundwork hadn’t yet been laid to get everyone on board with his ideas. He wanted to launch into plans of how the company to take consideration of the people of the underlevels as if they were valued company employees. The time would never be riper than now, would it? In theory, he was in charge with this team. They would stand with him. “I was late. I think the best way to stop workers from being angry with us is to do something that we haven’t considered before—which is to listen.”
That created a rumbling in the room.
“Let him speak,” Jake said from across the table, watching diligently.
Dario’s confidence nearly evaporated when he saw Jake’s look. He didn’t trust Jake now. How could he? And if he wanted something… No, that was a foolish thought. It didn’t make the plans Dario wanted to make suspect, even if Jake’s motives had become questionable. So what if Jake gained something from this anyway? What mattered were the underlevelers.
“Thank you, Jake,” Dario said, keeping his voice level. “The people of the underlevels have legitimate complaints. It doesn’t show on the newsfeeds, but there is rampant poverty in the lower levels. We, in management, won’t even travel there for fear of violence. What brought us to this state is that we’ve been ignoring them for too long, providing some sustenance, but barely enough to survive, and we don’t check on what we provide. This allows gangs of thugs dictate what gets distributed where. It isn’t fair. It’s a hard life down there of working much longer hours than we have, and it’s time we asked some of our own workers for help.”
“Help with what?” Antonio asked.
“What they want. We can work with someone who is from the underlevels to act as a representative, so they won’t feel like they have no one to talk to but some… figure in the sky.”
Some laughter came from the other end of the table.
“That’s a great idea, Mr. Anazao. An underlevel factory representative that takes grievances. Let me calculate the costs,” Daniella said, before tapping on the table console to run analytics. “The cost of promoting someone in the underlevels to such would be insignificant and computer models show increased productivity that far offsets the expense. I think this might work.”
“Good work, boss,” Jake said.
Before Dario could take any pleasure in this victory, he turned to see the conference room doors opening. His father led a team of four armored corporate security personnel—two with plasma pistols drawn.
“We have a breach of security,” Mr. Anazao announced, his forehead wrinkling as it often did when he was serious and angry. “That’s the one,” he said, pointing a finger directly at Jake Dylan.
Jake stood and backed into his chair. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“There’s footage of you both interacting and conspiring with rioters before the most recent event. We’re taking you in for questioning,” one of the security officers said. The two without guns pointed lunged in, each grabbing one of Jake’s arms.
Jake squirmed. “I demand an attorney,” he said, voice frantic. His eyes caught Dario, pleading.
Dario couldn’t do anything. He stood there, silent. He couldn’t contest his father and four security guards in front of the team, not on the verge of what was going to be a moral victory at the very least. This could have far greater negative impact than Jake in a jail cell—and mostly because Jake had supported Dario so much in these efforts. With a frown, Dario cast his eyes aside.
“I apologize for the meeting interruption, I hope you’ll still have a productive time,” Mr. Anazao said as the security guards lifted Jake off his feet and dragged him back to the door. Their plasma pistols remained trained on him the whole way.
The quality control team watched as Mr. Anazao turned and left. The room hung silent for a long moment. All eyes moved to Dario.
“What do we do now?” Antonio asked.
Dario looked at the graph holograms still hovering over the table, noise deadened in the room save for the sound of air piping in from the vents. It would look odd to go through with too much of a plan that Jake had fostered. The team knew of Jake’s desire to help the underlevelers as much as Dario’s. Tensions were high, he could feel it in the room and see it in the eyes gathered upon him.
The truth was, he had planned to confront Jake about what he’d seen on the video after the meeting. That discussion would have been private, and Dario had rehearsed what he’d say to some extent. Jake would have had to explain why he was interacting with the underlevelers like that while putting on a show of a fight for Dario’s sake, otherwise Dario was prepared to put him on a leave of absence similar to what his father had done to him. If worse came to worst, he would have fired Jake.
But even thinking about it, Dario wasn’t sure the lie was a bad thing. If Jake was an underleveler spy, someone who actually climbed the corporate ladder to help out the people below, was that a bad thing? That couldn’t be his father’s contention. No, from the corporate perspective someone working for the underlevelers would be someone trying to sabotage the company, perhaps on behalf of another corporation. A power move. That’s what could be dangerous to Regency BioTech about changing practices with the people’s lives down below.
Dario scanned the table, eyes landing on Antonio. “We move forward with the plan. It’s still a good plan despite the circumstances. We have to get back on point for other items. What’s next on the agenda, Daniella?”
Daniella pulled up an inventory list on the holoprojector with a picture of a Megahauler circling. “We have a ship in orbit ready to move product to the Antares System and less than a day to process our goods through our again damaged quality control plant on the surface. We’ll need authorization to send the remaining portions of the plant into overtime to make up for the loss.”
Dario nodded and listened as the meeting continued, wondering what kind of interrogations Jake would endure. This new AI might be a help at uncovering information discreetly. That would be his first step, later.
Chapter 21
Separated
Regency BioTech Central Office—Mid-Level Quarters, Mars
Local Date February 13th, 2464
The Central Office Promenade teemed with people. First shift had just ended for a large portion of the corporate personnel, which meant time to buy food, supplies and other items in the markets conveniently located between the workspaces and the employees’ homes.
How much more obvious could the corporation be? The employees received their paychecks for working, and were forced to buy their goods back from the corporation, sucking back their hard earned credits right back into the syste
m. It became an endless cycle of reliance on the corporation for everything, one that very few could break.
Joan’s time in the Star Empire Navy had given her similar disillusions, but with the prospect of putting her life on the line as well as the starships went into battle. She had remembered broken pipes spewing chemicals on the thirty-second deck of the Destiny, and having to go in with a hazmat suit to plug the leak, while wondering what was going on outside or on the bridge that caused the damage. Word never came down from the top ranks what had happened. She, like so many of her other crewmates, was told to do a task and not ask questions.
In front of her, someone scanned a handtab against a vendor stall, the console making a chirping sound letting the patron know a payment was processed. Just like Joan’s time in the military, people here didn’t ask questions. They did what they were told. That made it difficult to make the in-roads she needed to find Commodore Zhang.
Joan glanced over to Trian, who spoke to someone while placing food supplies into his bag. He said it could take weeks before they had a solid enough a lead to act on their mission, but Joan suspected from G.O.D.’s earlier urgency that there wouldn’t be nearly that much time before Zhang was made into some public show of what happens to the Trade Federation’s enemies. Which in all likelihood would involve an execution.
On the opposite side of her, Yui scanned her handtab to make a payment. The console flashed red. Yui frowned. “Huh, my ident isn’t working.”
Trian paused what he was doing to step over and take a look. “Let me see,” he said.
Yui tried again, waving her arm over the console more slowly this time. Once more, the console flashed red.
Trian frowned, cocking his head at the console. “This isn’t good. I’ll try,” he said. He moved his arm in front of the console, producing the same result as Yui had.
The line behind them swelled, patrons grumbling that it wasn’t moving quite fast enough. Joan looked back over her shoulder and gave a reassuring smile to the people behind them. “We need to get going,” she said softly.
“I know,” Trian said, smacking his fist against the console. He took a step back to survey it, as if that would change the programming.
A clerk made her way up toward them. “Is something the matter? Can I help you?”
“Machine’s broke, won’t take our idents and debit our account,” Yui said.
The clerk walked to the machine and scanned her own handtab. She tapped on it to pull up the history, which displayed on the screen. “I don’t think the problem’s the machine. The self-diagnostic says everything is functioning normally. I might have to call someone with more authority to look into this,” she said, giving two more taps on the console screen.
Trian peeked over her shoulder to see what she was typing. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake.”
“What’s happening?” Joan asked.
“It appears your accounts have been frozen,” the clerk said. “You’ll have to check with the banking department. There’s nothing we can do here.”
Down across the market, several security officers wearing protective armor and helmets with visors moved in the direction of the store. They sifted through the crowd without concern for who they bumped into, forcing people out of their way.
“Yui,” Joan said, prodding her in the side, then motioned her head toward the security officers.
“Aw, hell,” Yui said. “This must be the result of that tabloid reporter the other night.”
Trian looked up, eyes going wide. “We need to get out of here.”
Yui gave a sympathetic look to Joan and clasped hands on her shoulder, looking her directly in the eye. She whispered, “I’m just starting to trust you. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“Huh?” Joan asked, confused.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Yui said, as if she were about to start detailing a plan. Instead, she spun and pushed the clerk, who fell to the floor. Yui bolted out into the open promenade with the supplies she’d picked up, causing a ruckus within the crowd of people.
Trian stumbled backward. “What’s that supposed to—”
“It means we get out of here and meet up later. Let’s go,” Joan said, tugging on Trian’s arm. She released it and took off in the opposite direction of Yui. Joan thought she understood the plan, at least from what she recognized from her own thieving expeditions. If the team split up, it would force security to do so as well, and cause confusion. The odds of them getting caught would lower significantly. Sure, their faces would be on the security cams, but on Central Office with this many people, they couldn’t worry about that.
Joan bumped shoulders with the patron behind her, apologizing under her breath. She tried to keep her head low and duck out through the opposite end of the store. Trian bounded behind her toward the exit.
The store had a metallic shelf in the corner that reflected the rest of the store. That reflection showed security approaching, but they stopped for the clerk for now, eyes not on her for the time being. With that bit of luck, Joan hustled through the rear entrance to the market and back into the promenade, walking briskly until she could blend in and appear to be a regular patron.
After several moments walking down the long open area of the promenade’s first floor, Joan slowed. No security pursued her. She took a glance around, but Trian had not followed her either. Staying split would be the best strategy for now anyway. She relaxed some—but then she caught a glimpse of three security officers more than a hundred meters away.
They’d brandished shock sticks, using them on a person they’d apprehended—a small, black-haired female. Yui. One shock stick hit wasn’t enough to subdue her. Yui struggled, a pair of the security officers grabbing her while the others prodded her with their shock sticks again. The second round of hits proved enough, her head dropping limply forward.
Joan tried not to let any reaction cross her face, turning as if she were a regular shopper, perusing a skin-coloration bodymod store front. She stopped in front of a sparkling silver display. Out the corner of her eye, Joan saw Yui being dragged away.
She stepped that direction, considering following, but halted a moment later. Security would expect that one of Yui’s accomplices would follow, that stood to reason. That ruled out any heroics. No, for now the best idea would be to find Trian and make sure he was safe, formulate a plan with him for what they should do next. It wasn’t fair, but Joan couldn’t think of any better ideas. Adrenaline clouded her thoughts anyway. She needed to get away from the promenade and think.
What were her options? If Yui and Trian’s idents had triggered security, that meant hers would as well. She wouldn’t scan her handtab with that false identity for the time being.
Joan took one of the walkways away from the central hub down a row of shops devoid of further security personnel. She maintained her brisk pace, following a loop around the promenade, taking a route through the apartments area that wouldn’t lead directly back to her team’s quarters. No telling who might be following her.
After another loop, Joan didn’t see anyone she recognized from the first time around. If someone was going to the length to follow her, that person would have to be a master of the craft. Not much she could do about that. So she turned back toward her apartment area.
She walked up to the door and then raised her handtab, but then stopped herself. If her ident triggered security when trying to make purchases, it may do so on door systems for access as well. This posed a predicament: she couldn’t get into her apartment with access to her personal items. At least until she found a lock pick or another way inside.
What if Trian had come here? He could be inside. Security wasn’t here, which was a good sign. At least he hadn’t triggered their pursuit to their quarters. Joan knocked on the door and waited.
After several moments, she gave up on the idea that Trian had returned. She glanced down the hallway. Still empty. A small relief. She stared at the security scanner. It’d be too risky to bre
ak in, even if she could find a pick or mess with some of the wires. She knew little about Trade Federation security systems, which from her experiences so far were more robust than the ones back home. When she had broken into the networks with G.O.D., security had arrived quickly. When Yui used her compromised ident, they’d responded with equal speed.
No, breaking in would be too risky. If she had G.O.D. still, it may be a different story. Not having him made her life so difficult. So what else could she do? She had to go somewhere. It wouldn’t do to linger around the public areas of the station forever with no way to buy food or supplies. Not to mention having nowhere to rest.
Joan didn’t panic. She’d been in hopeless situations before. Once when her parents had died, leaving her alone so young. The second when her crewmates had, in trying to lighten their own sentences, ratted her out for thieving the supplies from the Destiny, the same crime they’d committed. Relying on others led to others letting you down. She could handle this. It was no different than any other time she’d been on her own.
She tightened her fingers into a fist. Even if Yui were held somewhere impossible to penetrate, Joan would do something to help her. She wouldn’t let Yui down, and despite their differences, Yui wouldn’t abandon her if the situation were reversed.
Where could she start? She had nothing. Even the slightest wrong action could bring security down on her, and she was in a foreign place. If she had G.O.D., he would be able to access the corporate nets, devise some strategy. Even in the tightest of spots, he’d always had a good plan Joan could execute.
G.O.D. occupied far too many of her thoughts. She didn’t have him this time, or Yui, or Trian. Joan had no one she could turn to even for advice.
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