Chapter 2

One thing above all others annoyed politicians aboard the H.T.S. Goliath to no end. This one massive difficulty was Civilian Law 27, the law that stated that any non-military politician could be recorded in any public place. Usually, this would not cause that many difficulties but C.L. 54 noted that public places basically included any plot of land that was not owned by that specific politician. These two laws together meant that cars, offices, other politicians’ homes, and just about anywhere else could and probably would be bugged by the ANM. As such, Nikolai Volkov checked his Mover constantly for bugs, but he had seldom found any. He heard the Duke talk about all the times his bodyguard got rid of an auditory listening device in his Mover. The number of Listeners in Faust’s Mover got so bad that he just stopped getting rid of them. “Okay, okay, have fun with the boring part of your job,” Nikolai was referring to how the Fausts were in charge of both education and commerce. Because the incident with the teachers affected both of their two duties to the public and it wasn’t violent enough to warrant military intervention, this strike was their problem.
The robotic voice in Nikolai’s Mover explained to him that they were now leaving Floor 100 and moving toward Floor 102 where the Volkov family headquarters was held. Something interesting happened when the Mover began its descent to a higher floor; instead of him feeling a particular force in any direction caused by acceleration, Nikolai felt an odd sensation where force downward, what you usually would call gravity, was actually reduced. This fact was a basic part of every passenger’s daily life, but there was a basic scientific reason for this. The H.T.S. Goliath was a circular ship which simulated gravity with the help of constant spinning. According to physics, the force of gravity simulated would be increased as distance from the center is increased. As such, force downward is closest to Earth’s gravity on Floor 102. Because humans are built for Earth-like gravity, the rich and powerful tended to gravitate toward floors near 102. This fact made it much more convenient for the next duke of the Faust estate, but very painful for anyone between floors 140 and 150.
The two kilometers of almost zero-G vertical movement was punctuated by Nikolai constantly throwing a small rubber ball into the air and catching it in his other hand. It suddenly struck him that this abomination of physics would be almost incomprehensible if he wasn’t so used to it. As the Mover got closer to Floor 102, the simulated gravity went from almost zero to two G’s in thirty seconds. Nikolai’s Mover informed him when gravity was back to normal.
After that point, Nikolai didn’t notice any force in any direction caused by acceleration of the Mover. He checked his Watch, 7:29:14. He counted the seconds until 7:30:00 when he knew the doors of his Mover would open about five feet away from the Volkov Building’s executive elevator. Dictated by his daily schedule, he would press the “Call-Elevator” button and the car would already be ready for him. At 7:31:15 the doors would open and by 7:31:20 he would be in his office. At 7:35:00 his secretary, who was quite a bit older than him and male, would give him a briefing similar to the one he had received at the Faust manor.
He did all this and found himself in his undoubtedly bugged office. Filing cabinets lined the walls that weren’t being used by the one door and the circular window. Nikolai spent the three minutes forty seconds he had alone folding his overcoat on his chair and getting rid of his first morning press briefing. Just as he sat down and did his best to alter his line of thinking to the business world, Damien Osiris, his secretary/bodyguard, came in with Nikolai’s briefing and a clear glass of liquid. This bodyguard had been assigned to the next Faust soon after an event occurred where the ANM realized that their beloved Prince Faust was cheating on the Princess. Nikolai had been set to marry Suzie when he was only eleven years old and she was eight. In a reality the ANM simply didn’t want to believe, their relationship was more of a sibling rivalry than a budding romance. So when Nikolai went out with some common girl with a common last name when he was fourteen, there was a bit of a commotion. Neither the Volkov nor Faust PR office could stop this from forming into a -gate, but they could diffuse the situation by giving Nikolai a nanny and “relocating” the girl to Floor 88.
Damien looked about as happy as he always was, that is to say not at all, so Nikolai wasn’t too worried. When the bodyguard plopped the briefing on the table, the first thing to catch Nikolai’s eye was the heading, Nielson Group Quarterly Report In, Fails to Meet Projected Results. This was very bad for the relationship of Nikolai and the Nielson Group. When it came to the manufacturing and control of nutrition tablets, no one was a bigger threat to the NG (Nielson Group) than Red Production which was owned almost entirely by the Volkov family. If the NG really wanted to they could attack Nikolai from two angles; they could say that he changed commerce laws with his connections to the Faust family to help Red Production and maybe even sue him under Civilian Law 10 for graft. However, it is much more likely that fewer people are being born and, as a result, less Watches were produced and sold.
“Today you have three meetings,” Osiris informed Nikolai, “all in the Deaves Room; one at eight this morning which is labeled as confidential, one at eleven with some of the marketing staff, and one at thirteen hundred hours with senior market analysts. The analysts said they wanted to speak with the CEO, but they got you instead.” Damien Osiris had retained the soldier persona ever since he had been appointed as Nikolai’s nanny. He would only occasionally throw in a jeer when he was feeling particularly happy.
Something about this conversation informed Nikolai that he wasn’t just going to have twenty minutes to himself. There would probably be paperwork and preparation between these meetings. He mentally organized what he had just heard and responded with his normal lively tone, “Okay, so is that all?”
The look on Damien’s face resembled something between annoyance and awe at Nikolai’s vigor. “Sort of,” the secretary had to stop himself from saying ‘of course not’, “your fiancée will be attempting to get her third degree black belt in Taekwondo. However, the ceremony has already been done and we know exactly how it will go.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling Osiris already had the whole thing planned out. Also… it gets kind of creepy how much people like Suzie. You’ll hear some people even call her the Princess or something like that. I hope these things raise flags for you people.” Anyone listening in probably thought Nikolai was worried about the Princess, but in reality it just annoyed him how much of a difference there was in their public image.
Before Osiris could answer, Nikolai already knew the answer. “Of course it does,” went the bodyguard’s predictable response, “it’s just that… the people that say these things… they’re not the types who have any particular criminal background we can act on. Any background check never actually warrants an arrest… these people are blacklisted, but there’s nothing we can actually do to prevent any harm to her.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved the bodyguard away and he placed the glass of clear liquid on the faux-wood table between them. With the few moments of privacy he had, Nikolai examined the Active Enzyme sitting in front of him. It was one of the many products manufactured by Red Production and it was general considered a luxury item meant only to be used by the ‘more productive’ members of society. At least that is what Red Production’s PR department wanted people to think; in reality the Active Enzyme drink was really just a stimulant similar to caffeine but much more powerful. In fact, recent tests caused the product to be made illegal on many floors without a strong Red Production presence. Nikolai drank the entire glass of Active Enzyme in a single swig without a second thought.
A very minor side effect of this completely legal drug caused one of Nikolai’s legs to slam into the underside of his desk. Like every other day, he adjusted the desk about two millimeters to offset the movement caused by his involuntary muscle spasm. Nikolai noticed a significant increase in his cognitive abilities almost immediately after his body began digesting the drink and he suddenly jumped to his feet.
The Active Enzyme drug worked beautifully when paired with Nikolai’s elevated fluid intelligence; it allowed him to think up some of the miracle-solutions he had become known for in his two years of working in the upper-echelons of the Volkov Group. However, these kinds of stimulating drugs formed a negative public image. Occasionally, when the ANM was particularly bored, there would be an in-depth exposé on “Prince Faust’s drug habit.” All this bad press surrounding Nikolai might have been what caused his public image of a calculating member of the bourgeoisie who only became the next in line for the Faust Dukeship because he wanted more clout in the business world. Nikolai was absolutely sure that he must have made a particularly juicy target for the ANM because he was a part of the Volkov family, a group of money- laundering vampires, and the Faust lineage, one of the three most powerful groups aboard the entire H.T.S. Goliath. Over the past couple years he had just gotten used to being the punching bag of the ANM on slow days; he actually figured that he had a bit of an advantage now that the public at large was burnt out on his scandals. But sometimes he really just wanted to look into one of those cameras which were always following him around and yell, “All this was decided before I was born!”
It’s not that Nikolai felt a particular disdain towards the people that had put him on this pedestal. He just occasionally wondered how his life might have turned out if his last name wasn’t Volkov and he hadn’t been born in the brief window where they had been selecting the heir. Nikolai shook such thoughts out of his head as his bracelet went off, informing him that the meeting would start in about three minutes.
With a rapidness of movement often seen in Active Enzyme users, the next Duke Faust pushed the door open into the dull brown hallway. Most people would think this particular shade of brown was boring in comparison to the solid black of many other offices, but Nikolai thought the color was nice. This was why he was not allowed near the decorating department.
Nikolai wasn’t sure why he had been called to a “confidential” meeting in the Deaves Room, but he was pretty sure it must have been important. The Deaves Room was named after a successful entrepreneur, Albert Deaves, who had been the first person to mass-produce the type of bracelet which Nikolai wore on his wrist at that moment. The bracelet hadn’t actually been invented by Albert Deaves but he had always been a role-model for business people over the years for his insight into the inner-workings of the business world. In fact, Nikolai’s tutor of business had ranked skill in business between “absolutely useless” and “Albert Deaves.” Despite the fact that it was not up to discussion whether or not Albert Deaves was a good businessman, he did not lead the most… conservative business life. He was highly eccentric once the war had ended and his career was eventually ruined by his many controversial actions in social and business environments.
As Nikolai walked into the room for what he thought was the hundredth time, he noted its sparse nature. Deaves had been born near the end of the war which was fought between the humans and the Lanthanides, so it could only be expected that his room reflected the extreme utilitarianism which was widely shared by the people of that time period. The war had required everyone to give something up and Albert Deaves gave up, at least temporarily, the particular eccentricities which big business owners had been known for. Sitting in the middle of the room was a large conservative desk made out of the same material as the desk in Nikolai’s office. He had always wondered why his family had such an affinity for fake wood. Surrounding the relic were eight expensive-looking executive chairs and one seat that was approaching throne status with its sheer hubris. This was the CEO’s chair. The vast majority of the proletariat masses would have looked at this picture and noted its vulgar avarice with disgust, but the three people in that room at the time could only feel a sort of grudging respect towards anyone who could manage to consistently generate the amount of greed required to sit in that chair. Of course, the CEO wasn’t there yet, he was obviously much too busy to arrive before the meeting started. In fact, ever since the current CEO had taken office, it had become customary for him to start the meeting as soon as he got there, he couldn’t be expected to wait when time was money.
When Nikolai walked in, he immediately walked behind his chair which was two away from the CEO’s chair and started talking to the middle-aged woman who was one chair closer than him to the big man. “Mrs. Lister, do you have any idea why this meeting was called?” Nikolai thought that maybe the COO (Chief Operations Officer) would have a better understanding of things. He knew he was mistaken when Mary Lister looked at him with a certain amount of exasperation.
“No, it is not my job to keep constant tabs on your father, Nikolai. Maybe you should talk to his secretary, or something,” Mary Lister was known for being a particularly hard boss. This, paired with her lack of respect for everyone except the big man himself, made her a good choice politically and economically for such a high position in management of the Volkov Group. With a small amount of anger, Nikolai remembered that, in this room, he wasn’t Mr. Volkov, that title could only be used when referring to the CEO.
Despite his annoyance toward Mrs. Lister’s insolence, he flashed his famous coy smile and said, “I think it might be just a bit of a faux pas if we allow a secretary into the Deaves Room during a super secret meeting. But really, if we… the highest level managers don’t know what’s going on, then whatever this meeting’s about might actually be important.”
“Wow, a meeting of the executive officers of a multi trillion credit mega corporation in which they actually talk about important stuff, I bet that never happens,” Nikolai was starting to sense a little hostility emanating from Mrs. Lister. However, he could understand where she was coming from, he’d probably be kind of pissed too if one of his coworkers was half his age. As the CFO (Chief Financial Officer), Nikolai was paid about as much as Mrs. Lister who had spent the past two decades clawing her way up the corporate ladder, so it was understandable that she would resent Nikolai’s lightning-fast climb to a position only two away from the CEO’s chair. Granted, he was generally considered a savant when it came to business and investing, but in Mary Lister’s mind no amount of natural skill could make up for his preposterous lack of experience.
Nikolai would have confronted Mrs. Lister over this infraction, but he had been playing the political game for long enough to know that she would make a better ally than enemy. “I mean like Faust level important,” his voice dropped a few decibels, “we could be talking about a complete breakdown of the economic system as we know it.” The coyness was completely out of his expression, everything about Nikolai at that moment exuded an aura of sincerity. In the background, some of the most powerful people on the Goliath walked into the room, but none of them were the CEO.
“What are you talking about?” legitimate confusion showed itself on the older lady who had spent almost all of her adult life playing the economic system.
“I’m only telling you this because of your proximity to what could potentially be ground zero in a ship-wide incident. This morning it was explained to me that there are currently three different incidents of striking workers right now: one in the vicinity of Floor 80, one on Floor 148, and one on Floor 150.” He was talking with a certain urgency, the big man could walk in at any moment, “Granted, according to coverage by the ANM, the two strikes currently happening on the higher floors had ended about a week ago. But really… they were both just turned into more of an armed rebellion after a Mover full of explosives was found on the elevator between the two floors. The security forces there reacted badly and… well you know those kinds of people. The point is that the entire situation was turned into a bloodbath and now there is a massive anti big business sentiment sweeping the upper floors because, as it turns out, Dark Spider PMC was hired by the Smith family for extra muscle. Yeah, I mean that PMC. You know, the one we own 49% of? Duchess Smith is currently fortified in a base on Floor 124 and her troops have been constantly fighting back hordes of heavily armed anarchists. Oh yeah, and that’s not even counting the problems which face the Fausts right now. The striking teachers around Floor 80 haven’t quite reached violent levels, but they’re still demanding reforms to capital gains taxes,” Nikolai was getting pretty worked up. “So… it is very likely that dear old dad caught wind of these things going around and now he decided that he wants to hold the economy hostage by threatening to liquidate all of the Volkov Group’s assets if the Fausts pass any antitrust laws. We currently make up about… oh, I don’t know… seven-point-two-six percent of the total GDP of the entire ship, so that wouldn’t be a very good thing. Such an event would cause a market crash bigger than anything since…” he wasn’t able to finish his long-winded complaint. The CEO walked in. Mary Lister’s apprehensive expression was quickly overshadowed by the big man’s domineering presence.