9. Moore Money

 

A day before Ceoda Moore first meets with King Remipor 

Creating Exporta has caused me to become obsessed with learning how a society reacts. Though I think I’m just doing it for the reassurance that if I do successfully understand society. Then that would help me build confidence in learning the one person I’ve been attempting to study. He’s looking at me while I’m thinking this. What does a moron like him even think about? Why do I always feel so absorbed within his aura? He benefits me none. I’ve never been inspired by him. He’s just there because I know I could trust him, but I’ve never really had to rely on his trust to get by anyway. He walks up to me from the dinning room of my C. T. Ship, and smiles while pouring some imported water from Earth into two gold plated shot glass. I reached out to grab for the drink. 

“Not done yet,” he cheekily said. I politely sat the glass back on the dinning table. 

“Alcohol!” He pulled out a bottle of wine, “Is the ambassador of a good night!” 

“And the backbone of a decreased lifespan,” I replied, Meeroc giggled at that. 

“Luckily you’ve prevented that with Exporta, so no more logical excuses.” I nodded my head side ways with a saucy smile, and lifted up my glass for pouring.

“Done much today?” I asked, while eyeing his outfit which is a maroon red hoodie, paired with dark brown camo boxers and nothing else. 

“Just the usual media consumption of mainstream TV.” 

“Laziness can push people away,” I teased.

“Oh no, I’m working on a TV script and watching my competition is a necessity.”

I smiled for his small effort at creative writing. This is the first time I’ve heard him talking about any of his projects.

“Have you came up with a synopsis yet?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink. I cringed at the bitter taste and Meer automatically poured me more water.

“I haven’t worked on a synopsis yet but I’ve got the basic idea.”

“Tell it to me, Meer,” I leaned forward on the huge dinning table, while Meeroc prepares.

“Movies and TV shows is an accidental manipulation tool that slowly inspires us in a good or bad way throughout our lives. Hitler used this as a tactic to gain followers and so does the government, and they know that if they legalised weed. Then it would cause many humans to be creative and create their own worlds to share. The government wouldn’t have control over such things, and to maintain power they need to cut off the catalyst, which is weed. They know it can be the root to independent thinking and the source of relentless inspiration.”

“I like the concept but weeds already legal,” I interrupted, hoping that would stop him.

“This documentary is directed towards Earth, the only place that doesn’t allow it. The only place where Kings are still allowed to rule, than that of a publicly elected government.”  

“You should leave them be with their old fashioned ways.”

“But their societies so unbalanced!”

“They’ve currently got the healthiest Planet on this Galaxy, and the richest, making mines second!” I stood up. “Earth’s doing okay without weed, Meer.”

“They could be doing better.”

“Could is a word most people use when they are not 100% sure of what they are saying.” He looked stunned by my slight anger, but I wasn’t angry because of his idea. I was upset that he could be targeted for assassination if this documentary was to be produced, because Meeroc’s right to some extent. 

Annel texted then, giving Meer the chance to walk away from me. She texts, “Stopping in Gallois space hotel in eight-minutes, scheduled meeting with Garitarie.” I huffed out at the thought of meeting Garitarie. Who is a pushy man whose only topic of discussion is of Earth. He leads a vast unit of soldiers for the Galactic Government, and has been urging me to support him in the taking of Earth. In a legal way of course. If I let Garitarie know how easy it is for me to do what he’s been trying to achieve for half his life time. Then he would take down the whole Galactic Government to marry me, but it’s not like I can’t do that myself. Though it will save me more time if I just let him f**k me and have him do all the boring work, than to avoid him and do it myself. 

“Let who f**k you?” I quickly glanced at the direction of the voice. I just accidentally said out some of the things I’d just thought of, and Meeroc Davies was conveniently present at my self shaming idea. 

“I was joking to myself, Meer, he’s too stupid for me anyway.” I eyed at him.

“Garitarie leads an army of 500 thousand Governed soldiers, I don’t think stupid crossed the Governments mind when they allowed him this much power.” 

“And I Govern an entire World, I’m completely out of his league and will not f**k him,” I analysed Meeroc’s jealousy, his cheeks turn puffy red and the Maroon hoodie he’s wearing matches it on a cute level to which I’m not wet for. 

“I thought you went away?” I nagged. 

“I came back for the wine,” he lied, and I played along with his white lie by agreeing.

“I have to get changed, and we’re stopping at the Gallois space hotel soon.”

“Fine, text Annel to send for a designer then,” huffed out Meeroc. 

The Gallois space hotel is an investment I made near five years ago when I was just a millionaire. It’s located between Planet Broadcast and my own personal world, Planet Moore. Many of my investors stay there while they make the long journey to my world. I stop by there whenever I make the trip to another Planet, and Garitarie knew this. So he always makes the effort to ambush me with his idiotic plans to overtake Earth with his small army of 500 thousand. The hotel can fit up to 120,000 guests and Gallois the owner created a whole new floor of rooms exclusively for my own use. No doubt thanking me for my huge investment five years ago, as well as the desire to impress me with his small fortune. An attempt that I find sweet. Annel texted me then, “Advancement scouts gave the okay to depart onto the Gallois hotel.” I finally decided to make Annel my full-time assistant on the recommendation of Meeroc Davies. She’s been gaining more weight and has a few acne spots appearing on her face, probably due to the stress of a full-time job. I might have to get Annel an assistant of her own soon. The Gallois Hotel isn’t a floating building, it’s actually built on one of the smallest worlds, named Planet Mere. The building design is inspired to look like a lava lamp. Gallois told me he had the idea from Earth’s famous attraction: the Larferna tree. He wanted the Hotel to stick out of his miniature Planet just like Earth's Larferna tree. But with a futuristic look, he opted for the lava lamp idea due to his ancestors being originated from Earth. He says he wanted to pay tribute to their forgotten ideas such as the lava lamp, which was invented 1052 years ago. The Hotel’s height is roughly 23,000 feet with the width of 3000 feet. My C. T. Ship hovers at the peak of the Hotel because taking the lift up to my room would take ages. There’s about 2000 floors to this Hotel, and the safety regulations state that each elevator can only take you up to a maximum of 500 floors before you have to switch lifts, and repeat the process until you reach 2000, which is the floor Gallois had prepared for me. The Hotel merges with my C. T. Ship, and my thirty-six bodyguards, Annel, Meeroc and myself starts making our way in. Gallois obviously greeted me as he always has.

“Ceoda,” Gallois shouted cheerfully, followed by his entourage and their assistants. 

“Annel, text Gallois that I want immediate privacy, although he can stay.” Gallois’s assistant quickly got the text and whispered the message to him. Within four blinks of my two eyes they were all gone, save for Meeroc, Annel and Gallois. 

“I’m liking the new view Gal,” I said. Since we’re at the peak of the Hotel, our window view is of space. Looking at the other Planets is a joy and Gallois added some floating balls that are made to look like small worlds, to add a sense of entertainment to the eye or display a vaster population? Whatever it is, I like it. 

“You think he’s going to hint at a proposal again?” whispered Meeroc, I ignored him and leaned into Gallois for a cheek to cheek kiss. 

“I redesigned your whole room myself, you like?” burst out Gallois. I looked around to see that the window covers every wall in a circular shape. Leaving a single King sized bed in the middle, with the usual Hotel furniture such as a desk, a few chairs, kitchen, open bar and whatever. 

“It’s okay I guess, luckily I’m only staying for one night or else I’ll be bored.” I gave Gallois a half unimpressed look. He grins wider, seeming to enjoy my honesty.  

“We have some entertainment tonight at the exclusive Trillionaire’s Bar.” He suggested, looking hopeful. I looked away from him without answering.  

“Annel, where’s the meeting location with Garitarie?”

“Anywhere you want he says.”

“Make it the Trillionaire’s Bar in ten minutes then.” Gallois probably gained half a hard-on from my acceptance of his suggestion. I snared his eyes in my direction with a slight twitch in my mouth and said, “Have the whole room painted in a Maroon glaze before I’m back from my meeting, and hang up some artwork of your choice.” Gallois bowed at my demand. “Should I have the roof painted too?” he politely asked. 

“I did say the whole room.” I smiled at Gallois’s direction while not maintaining eye contact. I directed my eyes onto Meeroc instead, wondering if he managed to get my hint of the Maroon hoodie he wore, and the red puffy cheeks he so cutely gained when jealous. He shared no reaction of that and walked to the mini bar, or maybe that is his reaction. 

The Trillionaire’s Bar is designed quite similar to my room. It has the same view, replacing the bed in the middle with a circular bar. In the middle of the bar there is a circular water tank filled with floral plants and a 60’s TV set playing my interview on repeat. The rest of the room has odd shaped seats, with tables scattered around, and a mini stage to which I predict most of the entrainment is held. Garitarie is waiting near the stage with a drink in both hands. Wearing the cliche black suit one wears when leading an army of dim wits. He smiled at my entrance and slowly walks towards me. 

“Why’d you bring your assistant?” he mocked, I kindly told Annel to back away.  

“Don’t want an audience for when I reject your lame plans of capturing Earth?” I mocked back, trying to keep it friendly. 

“Can’t you see my bodyguards?” I looked around, knowing that half the room is filled with Garitarie’s men. 

“I guess you aren’t shy about public rejection then.”

“Curiosity overshadows my pride. Same goes for my men, and my top guys have been curious about you ever since your interview.” He pointed at the 60’s TV set. 

“And letting them see you with me adds to your public image, I’m guessing.” He smiles in agreement.

“Then I guess you’ve been purposely making up s**t plans, just so you can have an excuse to see me. And the real truth is that you have no intension of overtaking Earth at all,” I took the drink out of his hand and sipped it. 

“It increases my staffs morale, I’ll admit, but Earth is still a priority, Ceoda.” 

“You don’t usually bring company with you, what’s changed?”

“I’ve been working half my lifetime trying to merge the G. G. with Earth. Men will gradually start questioning my role as leader.”

“So meeting with a successful tycoon like myself should make them think your equal to me?” Garitarie frowned for a bit. 

“Just so long as your name and mines are in the same sentence of discussion.”

“If you were leading a minimum of eight million soldiers, then maybe I’ll be flattered about this fake publicity display.”

“Are you just pissed that I get the most benefits from these meetings?”

“When you become a genius, you might finally understand that being surrounded by regular people causes us to become unaffected by disappointment, because we learned to expect it from you lot ages ago. That’s why I’m never fazed by how s**t these meetings are.”

“When I become a genius? You offering an Exporta, Ceoda?” 

“Skipping the judgement and straight to the self interest, the Garitarie way,” I mocked.

“It could happen,” I finally said. Gar’s thinking to himself that if he fails his G. G. assignment and gets fired from his leadership job. Then he could just start a new life with Exporta. I made sure to quickly interrupt his thoughts of an alternative future.   

“I need you to remain position as General Commander for at least two lifetimes. Then I’ll give you unlimited access to Exporta.” 

“I’ve never heard a deal like this before,” he put his whole hand over half his face, “I can’t outlive my wife, Ceoda.” Now Gar’s trying to get the family package, what a hustler.  

“Your wife can have an access but it’ll cost you another lifetime of service.” He smiled at that and nodded in acceptance for the best deal of his life, immortality. I gave Annel a certain hand gesture and she started texting. Twelve people stood up from their tables and walked towards us. The Garitarie bodyguards instantly pulled out their weapons. Gar reflexively signalled them to halt. 

“These are my lawyers. Sign were they tell you to, and I’ve also got your lawyers on speaker phone,” I said.

“Business with you is never slow pace,” said Gar while signing his forms.

“Now we need to make sure you keep your job as General Commander. Update me.” 

“Earth’s ruling system is old fashioned. Right now a group of councilmen are in charge of  the Larferna region, meaning they control the whole of Earth. They substitute for the King until he’s old enough to rule, and Larferna is mere years to crowning their new King. Once that happens, it’ll be easier to convince one guy than that of a whole council to merge with the Galactic Government.” 

“The waiting game… A known sport for the non-productive.” 

“Larferna rules over the other 20 Monarchs, which makes up 90 percent of Earth’s population. So once we convince the Larferna King in agreement of merging with the G. G. then the rest of the world would be made to follow along.” 

“That will make things dangerously easier.” I said in a non-excited tone.

“Perks of trying to do business with a monarchy that still allows one human to make all the decisions.” Was Gar talking about me as well? Considering I solely rule over Planet Moore.

“Are you plan on doing the convincing?” I asked.

“I do,” he said it with precise confidence. If only Gar’s men could hear as far as they see. Then they would’ve inspired to be like him. 

“Not a good idea but go for it,” he paused at my remark.

“Is my wife getting one Exporta or unlimited?” Why is he changing the topic now?

“We only agreed for one, but you’ve got unlimited Exporta’s once you’ve served out your three lifetimes.” 

“Can I give her some of mines?” 

“It’s only for you.”

“That’s cold,” he yelled. 

“I didn’t say she’s not allowed to compete for the Exporta IQ tests. If you can work another lifetime for me, that’ll earn her a total of two Exporta’s.”

“If I successfully convince the King of Larferna to merge with our interests. Would you allow my wife unlimited access?”

“It better not be something predictable then.” He leaned in close to reveal his idea but I leaned back in visual response to his poor attempt for build ups. He ignores me and continued. 

“Offer the King an Exporta.” I half-rolled my eyes in response. 

“People tend to listen to your advices more seriously when you are famous, even if its s**t advice. Right now your idea has no weight in them. It’s useful but it should be offered by someone else, someone responsible of the actual thing you’re trying to offer, someone like me.” I finished and he nodded yes.

“Is my wife still getting the deal?”

“I said if it’s not predictable, so no. Though if you do find the King before he’s crowned, then I’ll give you a choice to make whomever you want immortal forever.”

“Is there an expiration date for this deal.” 

“No, you can take your time in choosing a candidate. You can even pick your wife if you still want.”

“If I die before I can give it to anyone, would I be able to allow a family member inherit this deal?” Garitarie is a sly man whose sole interest is getting the best deals, and I applaud his thinking. It’s something I wished that Meeroc had, but I guess Meer’s too selfless to think like Gar. I smiled in response and said. 

“I’ll allow you to name one heir for the deal, but if that heir dies, then he or she cannot name another inheritor.” He nodded in agreement.

“When are you going to publicly show Exporta in action?” no doubt wanting some proof that Exporta is a working product. 

“Even if I show it now, people will still doubt me. The best proof I can give is when I live past 130.” The oldest person in the universe died at the age of 129, living past that age whilst still maintaining my youthful looks via my cloned vessels is proof enough. 

“That’s why you want me to work for you. To have my 500,000 men serving as your bodyguards?” 

“That’s one of the many things they can do.” 

“What else do you want?”

“You just signed a contract to work for me, I can have you pour water for the rest of your employed days, Gar.” 

“I don’t mind pouring water for immortality,” he grinned out his opinion.

“You just signed three lifetimes away from,” I paused, “your life.” 

“Why you trying to make me feel regretful?” he asked in a polite tone, an employees tone to be precise. 

“I’m your employer now, and I thought I’ll practice my reckless authority on you, because you’re known to have tough skin. But Gar, why are you acting like a little wimp at the moment?” 

“Just testing a new character for a book I’m writing,” he lied. 

“A common excuse for when writers act noticeably unlike themselves.” I arched my left brow without twitching my left eyelid and continued, “but you aren’t a writer though.” 

He pauses for a bit before finally getting the joke and laughs. Gar knows I’ve always been the sort to provoke anyone into a situation they don’t see coming. May it be for pure awkwardness or a confrontation of social wit, and Garitarie knew then that I was just joking. More like a welcoming joke for joining me as one of my many deposable employees. It’s kinda my way of keeping staff morale high. By letting them know that their boss can be easy going too. Though in truth, most successful employers are usually ruthless.