But she didn’t have time to think about that let alone act on it.
Dario sighed on the other end. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “It was a stupid thought.”
“Not stupid, just not viable.”
He went quiet on the other end for a moment.
“Dario?” Her turn to ask after him. Why was this so hard?
“Yeah, sorry. Thinking. I did a little research into the Zhang person you told me about,” Dario said. “Be better to talk about it in person than on a line.”
“I don’t think we’ll have that opportunity,” Joan said, hoping the regret she felt came through in her own tone.
“Yeah, well, remember the plan that I’d told you about, with the company shipping out all of the underlevelers and leaving them on the hands of the Star Empire?” Dario asked.
“How could I forget? A spaceside concentration camp,” Joan said flatly.
“Well, with my clearance levels I was able to do a little digging. Turns out that your friend is set to be on the first ship departing through the program.”
“What?” Joan’s heart nearly stopped with that information.
“Yeah. That’s not the only thing. I… I’m going to try to talk to corporate or at least my father on this one, but they’ve already set a launch date of tomorrow morning, prior to first shift. They’re planning on going when everyone’s sleeping. Amazing how fast they move,” he said, bitterness heavy in his voice.
“Dario, this is very, very bad,” Joan said. “I have to find Trian again right now; I don’t have another moment to spare.”
“Look, I’m going to do what I can, see if I can stop this or at the very least delay it. See if I can do something, or if cooler heads can prevail once less people are on edge about all of this rioting. I don’t know.” He paused again for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Joan.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do it.”
“I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible. I’m part of this company, I work for these people. I wish I could help you more.”
“You’ve already done a lot. Thanks, Dario. I… I really hope I can see you again,” Joan said.
“I hope so too.”
“I gotta go.” With that she killed the comm line. She could go back and forth saying goodbye forever, and she knew very well that he wanted to keep her on the line for about that long.
Joan stepped out of the booth, looking around. “G.O.D. do you still have a read on Trian’s location, even with his new ident in place?” She reluctantly tapped on her handtab to unmute her AI.
“I do, I do, I do. And I’m so in luh-uv with you, with you, with you.”
Truth be told, the singing wasn’t that bad, and Joan noticed at least he tried to answer her questions when he did sing. It just took a little longer than the direct approach. “Put it up on my handtab display,” Joan said.
Within moments, a map leading to where G.O.D. read Trian’s ID displayed. He wasn’t too far ahead, his signal passing through the main promenade. He probably needed to eat, just as Joan had. It was lucky she found Dario after all.
She had to put those thoughts out of her head before they escalated. Joan shook her head at her own priorities and then went to go find Trian again.
Chapter 27
Confrontations
Regency BioTech Central Office—Top Level, Mars
Local Date February 14th, 2464
Dario made his way up the lift, to the top level of the Central Office. The level produced an aura of greatness for its higher ranking officials, with pure transparent ceilings, gaudily displaying the entirety of the starscape beyond. The domed ceiling reflected a translucent corporate logo. The statement the design made was a clear one: it took something as large as the Regency BioTech Corporation to reach out and grab those stars. No one down below would ever get to see a view like this.
The receptionist recognized his face, allowing him brush past her to the large conference room beyond the counter. More than a dozen people sat inside that room watching a presentation. None looked up at him.
Dario hooked a right down a long aisle of executive offices, some even with large side-rooms for their assistants. His father would be in the one next to the COO. A placard adorned the doorway: Kostas Anazao, Chief Financial Officer.
Dario scanned his ident and the doors slid open for him. Not directly into his father’s office, but to his private reception, where his assistant, a slender woman in her late sixties, sat at a desk.
“Dario. Why this is unexpected. I can’t remember the last time you visited.” Amy Goodnow spoke with trained kindness, just professional enough of a greeting to not alarm someone, but let them know they weren’t particularly wanted here either.
“Hey Amy. I have some business to discuss with Mr. Anazao. Is he in?”
“Why, he’s in a meeting right now. Would you like me to leave a message for you? I’m sure he’d be happy to visit with you later. Amy pivoted in her chair to type something.
“Who’s he meeting with?” Dario asked.
Amy stopped typing and checked her display. “Someone… Shawn Treiger? That’s your new assistant, isn’t it? How’s he working out for you?” she asked. She sounded half-sincere, and didn’t bother to look back up at him.
The blood drained from Dario’s face. Shawn was already in there, no doubt giving a report of everything that transpired in the meeting earlier, and making a list of everything that was wrong with Dario’s department, whether true or not. The whole point of the man’s task was to sabotage Dario, even if his father thought of it as looking after him.
After the pause, Amy did glance his direction. “Is something the matter?”
Dario faked a smile. Two could play at the professional disinterest game. “Oh no, I was just thinking about some deadlines. Shawn is working out just fine, I’m sure,” Dario said. Fine for his father at the very least. “Maybe I can just pop in there? He is my assistant after all, can’t hurt to have me in on the conversation.”
“I’ll buzz Mr. Anazao and let him make the call,” Amy said, mirroring his smile, but looking away almost instantly as she contacted her father inside. “Mr. Anazao? Your son his here. Uh huh. Yes. Uh huh. Right away, sir.”
Dario raised an expectant brow.
Amy returned her attention to him. “You may enter,” she said.
The doors opened. Shawn was seated in one of the three chairs across from Mr. Anazao’s large desk. The back wall displayed rotating product lines as well as a Trade Federation corporate exchange ticker across the bottom third. The office wasn’t decadently large, but functional, and with a holodisplay of all of the amenities that accounting could need.
Shawn stared at Dario, facial expression flat. He said nothing.
“Dario,” Mr. Anazao said, inclining his head but not standing. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
No, you were planning to run my department without me, Dario thought. But all three of them knew that, and no one was remorseful about it. “I figured it was time to talk,” Dario said.
“That it is. That it is,” Mr. Anazao agreed. “Shawn has delivered me a report of all of the recent goings on in your department, starting with the meeting that I inserted him into.”
Dario’s face appeared on the holodisplay, dressed in clothes from the prior day’s meeting. His father gave a nod to Shawn, who had a blank look from his oculars that Dario recognized. Something that he did often as he was bringing up playback of memory files.
On the screen, Dario shifted and spoke, “Mass murder is what it is. At the very least uprooting the poor who already have hard enough lives. This isn’t to help them, it’s to rid the corporation of a problem and give the Star Empire a bigger one.”
“Pause,” Mr. Anazao said.
The image on the wall froze, Shawn saying nothing.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Mr. Anazao asked.
Dario shrugged, trying to keep his expression unemotional. He had stumbled
into an inquisition about his attitudes, something Dario felt was right. He wouldn’t give into the bait.
“You were told that a plan was pitched and agreed upon by the board, and yet you attempted to undermine the board’s decisions by calling them into question. Mass murder? Really?” Mr. Anazao shook his head. “This is bad public relations. Your job in management is to enact board decisions, stand behind them and ensure people under you maintain the company line.”
“If the company line isn’t murder, sure,” Dario said, unable to hold back his biting tone. Why couldn’t his father see the problems here? The real people being hurt by these crazy plans?
“I’ve already explained this to you,” Shawn chimed in.
Dario’s father held his hand out to Shawn to motion for him to stop. “Yes, you have. Let me handle this please, Mr. Treiger.”
That silenced Shawn for the time being. The man cast his eyes downward.
“This is the execution of millions of innocent people. Or at the very least uprooting them, exposing them to who knows what’s out in the colonies. It’s hurting people and you know it,” he said. “There’s no getting around that.”
“It’s giving them a chance at a better life. The Star Empire colonies are all about independence, forging out for a new path. This gives the people who are set on disrupting our system, one that works very well, the chance to do just that. It’s exactly what both groups want, and it alleviates our rioting problem by reducing the population here to a more sustainable level for the corporation’s charities,” Mr. Anazao said, scripted, passionless. It was as if he simply read a press release.
It was utter scrap. Dario narrowed his eyes at his father. What could he do? He had no authority here, no ability to change the board’s mind if they had already made a decision.
“Dario, I know you’ve been manipulated unfairly. You’re not going to be in trouble. Not going to lose your corporate position. There’s no risk of incarceration for your dissension. However, I do need you to stop voicing these subversive ideas in ineloquent manners. If our competitors got hold of the words of a manager like that, do you know the harm it could do to our stock?”
“This isn’t about P.R.,” Dario said, crossing his arms in front of him. “This is about people. What would you do if you were one of the underlevelers. Haven’t you considered what it’d be like to be in their shoes? One job for every, what, million people? Of course there’re riots. No one has a sense of purpose, they may have enough to survive, but they always see that up here we have far more. And there’s nothing they can do to get out.”
“How would you fix it?” Shawn asked.
“I don’t know, but what I was saying in the meeting is a good start. We need to listen to them, find out how they can take charge of their own lives and we can facilitate that, rather than just dictate to them what corporate charity is. That just furthers the resentment,” Dario said.
“I believe Shawn’s solution solves issues with resentment already. This isn’t a debate though, Dario. What’s done is done. We even have Trade Federation peacekeeping forces ready to escort and transport the refugees in modified Megahaulers, starting two days from now.”
Dario frowned about that. This was all information he’d found with his clearance on the nets, but he still hoped the corporation wouldn’t move that fast. But of course they would. They had to get this all out and done with before the news cycles hit, before someone like him blew the whistle and made it a nightmare for them to act, trapping them in bureaucracy. Dario thought about being that person himself, but wasn’t sure that he would do much good other than get himself ostracized from the company.
Mr. Anazao did give him a point of contention, however.
Dario uncrossed his arms and raised a finger. “Wait, you said Trade Federation personnel will be escorting them? We’re going to send out our own corporate security and that of other companies into Star Empire space? That’s a suicide mission. We can’t do that to our own people.” Dario believed every word of his point, but hoped this argument would hold more weight than his caring about the underlevelers’ lives.
Mr. Anazao leaned back, face ever stoic. “Those numbers have been calculated and determined to be acceptable losses.”
“Acceptable losses?” Dario’s jaw dropped. He could tell by looking in his father’s eyes that the man at least had some reservation about that. People couldn’t be distilled down to soulless numbers, no matter how computers generated acceptable losses, or how the board’s public relations department spun the words.
“The personnel involved are on a volunteer basis, knowing that this is an extremely sensitive mission,” Mr. Anazao said.
“But even if they’re volunteering, these personnel don’t know what they’re going to be dying for. To exterminate unwanted people!”
“Dario, you’re raising your voice and sounding unprofessional.”
Dario couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m unprofessional? This whole thing is crazy. I can’t believe it. You’re out of control to allow this. Both of you.” He motioned between Mr. Anazao and Shawn.
Shawn frowned, but said nothing.
Mr. Anazao let out a deep breath, maintaining his calm. “Even if you have valid points, the launch is already scheduled for the first wave. There’s nothing we can do to stop it now. Why not wait and see the results? It may not be as bad as you think.”
“Like hell,” Dario said, turning on his heels and stomping back out the door.
“Dario, wait!” Mr. Anazao said, the doors shutting before he could say anything further.
It didn’t matter what his father thought anymore. He’d gone too far, and Dario wasn’t about to sacrifice his soul for this stupid company. His father was wrong. There had to be ways to stop this ridiculous plan. It wasn’t just Dario involved in this fight. He couldn’t justify putting Antonio’s career and life in jeopardy, but he had Joan, and whoever Joan was working with on her team. Dario still had his access codes, and then…
…and then he didn’t have a plan. This was far out of the scope of his general work. His schooling had been in business management, productivity and operations. What could he do? Sabotage? He didn’t even know how ship systems worked, or where to even start. He could try to go to the press, but it might be too late to affect change there, and as he’d thought before, that would certainly end his career. The company would take any access he had.
Whatever he did, he would have to use the access that he did have, before his father could confiscate that again. He needed a way to get to Joan. She seemed to have a level head on her shoulders, understanding the ways of the universe far better than Dario could with his sheltered, corporate experience. Maybe she could come up with a better plan.
Chapter 28
The Bottleneck
Regency BioTech Central Office—Mid-Level Quarters, Mars
Local Date February 14th, 2464
Joan wished she had a better plan. With no time to analyze her situation, thousands of peoples’ lives on the line, and G.O.D. on the fritz, it wasn’t as if she had many options.
Trian proved easy to find. He scouted the lift down to the surface levels where hundreds of people lined up for security scans. They had been through this security zone before, when Joan and her team had entered the Central Office, but now that security was looking for them specifically, danger loomed here.
From the look on Trian’s face, he was hesitant about his plans as well.
“Trian,” Joan said, approaching from the side.
Trian tensed, eyes going wide before relaxing with recognition when he turned. “Joan,” he said, his voice soft. “You scared me half to death. I thought the plan was to meet down on the underlevels? It’s not safe to be together.”
Joan looked back over her shoulder. No one seemed to be coming for them. “Sorry. Something important came up. I have you tracked through your handtab. G.O.D. has the signature.”
Trian frowned. “That’s not good. If any of that information is
traced through the company’s nets, it could lead right to us. We could be compromised.”
“Anything we do compromises us at this point. Even breathing.” Joan understood his hesitancy. It wasn’t paranoia. But there was no reason to worry about what they couldn’t control. They had to work with what they had.
“I gather you have some fresh news?” Trian asked, observing her. “I only left you a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah,” Joan said. “Everything’s changed.”
“Oh?” Trian asked, raising a brow.
In the last couple of days he seemed to have aged a couple of decades. He looked tired. Though Joan was sure she looked tired, too. “Yes. It turns out it’s good we’re getting off the station, but we need to get to the spaceport, and access. Quickly,” Joan said, eyes drifting over toward the line that formed for security.
“Access?” Trian asked, turning his head to see where Joan looked. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”
Joan lowered her voice, leaning toward him. “Dario found Commodore Zhang. She’s due to be shipped out with a group of underlevelers. I think the plan is to have the Star Empire see several Trade Federation ships entering their space and then have our forces shoot them on sight. The Trade Federation would then out the Star Empire for killing civilians, as well as the botched job as killing our own Commodore.” She could hardly believe it when she said it. Either someone on the board of this company was a ruthless tyrant, or groupthink really did push people toward stupidity.
“What?” Trian asked, a little too loudly. A couple people who passed by glanced in their direction. He dropped is voice again. “Sorry. I wasn’t prepared for that news. This exemplifies our plight with the Trade Federation’s policies. Threat of Blob invasion? They sit for years allowing the colonies to be decimated. When the poor make a fuss? They move quickly to exterminate them. Unbelievable. No, it’s what I expect. That’s the worst part.”
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