Chapter 3

Kristoff Volkov had inherited the company from his father and Nikolai’s grandfather thirty years ago when it was no bigger than one of the many company’s it now owned with what many people called “money power.” He built the mega conglomerate from its relatively humble beginnings into the second biggest business on the ship through what some would call shady business practices and others would call optimization. Such business dealings technically did not break any of the highly regarded Civilian Laws at the time they were committed, but there were some surprisingly accurate rumors in circulation which claimed that Mr. Volkov had committed every crime from stock watering to first degree murder. Of course, the stockholders did not care whether or not their CEO was a cold-hearted criminal; all they cared about was how good he was at his job, and he delivered. When Nikolai was only two years old, the ANM released a story which explicitly referred to Kristoff Volkov as “the Vampire” and his public rating had plummeted. However, the stock prices of all the business run by him went up significantly. Apparently the stockholders felt that a cold and calculating pseudo-human would be the perfect person to run their business. All this wouldn’t have bothered Nikolai so much if it wasn’t for the fact that all this bad press would occasionally rub off on him.
“Mr. Volkov,” Mary Lister murmured politely to Nikolai’s father.
The big man sat down on the throne with a series of purposeful movements and everyone else in the room followed his lead. No one dared sit down before the CEO. Kristoff Volkov filled the role of the vampire of business very well, especially given the fact that his intense stare and black dyed hair made him look much younger than he actually was. A quick glance at one of the many pages written about the autocrat of the Volkov Group would yield that he was sixty-two years old, but anyone who didn’t know that would swear he wasn’t a day over forty. Occasionally someone would ask him what his secret was regarding his apparent agelessness and he would respond every time with, “money” or some other mundane answer.
“I assume this has something to do with the riots,” Nikolai said after sitting down, immediately rendering all the information he just gave Mrs. Lister absolutely useless. He had been playing the political game for long enough to know how to gain someone’s trust without giving anything up. In the time which Nikolai had been filling the role of a politician, which included almost all of his life after the age of eight, he realized that something that resembles full disclosure is just as useful as the real thing. Just like optical illusions and gambling, all that matters is what the other person thinks. This statement also worked as a show of power. In case anyone at that table didn’t know that Nikolai was both the CEO’s son and the next Duke Faust, the statement preceding would inform them.
The king sitting in his throne of greed looked at Nikolai and favored him with a glance that expressed something between love and loathing. He was impressed by Nikolai’s information, but at the same time the self-centered king didn’t enjoy the prospect of his son stealing his thunder. “Riots, you say? You should really check your sources because, from what I’ve heard on the news, there is only one riot occurring right now,” the sarcasm was practically dripping out of his mouth.
A genuine smile graced the expression of Nikolai when he heard this. “Point conceded,” he surrendered to the king, “what is today’s super secret meeting about, captain?” He knew Mary Lister wanted to slap him upside the head for disrespect, but at that moment his reputation as a smart-a*s took precedent.
“Okay then,” Kristoff Volkov, business extraordinaire said, “today’s meeting is, in fact, about the armed rebellions on the upper floors. No, I’m not talking about the half baked teachers’ protests on Floor 80, I’m talking about the legitimate threats posed to us by the Anarchy Movement. I didn’t even know about this until just this morning and I only know about it because of my sources in the Smith and Manhattan houses.” He let this bomb shell drop on everyone except Nikolai and Mrs. Lister before adding, “...and they’re requesting a reform on everything from capital gains taxes to big business in general. Quite honestly... if they get their way, we’d be looking at complete government control of the private sector in less than eight quarters.”
Throughout this entire conversation it was obvious that the man who was four seats away from the CEO on the right had something to say. However, Samuel Monroe managed to barely contain himself. This overly excited guy with an unfortunate bald spot was very knowledgeable in the field of R&D, which he was the president of, but his demeanor in front of the big man caused Nikolai to accidentally call him “Yes Man Prime” to his face on a handful of occasions. “But sir…” he managed to get out, “I thought the ANM would jump on any chance at a big story. What could possibly influence them into giving up a story like an armed insurrection against big business?”
Suddenly, the big man seemed to be thinking about things much more important than the bumbling fool in front of him. This was Nikolai’s cue to answer in lieu of his father, “Civilian Law 25 amended C.L. 4 by stating that it would be a crime to report a story about something which could potentially harm the public at large. Duchess Faust invoked this law right before everything got heated.”
“But that doesn’t sound like something politicians should be allowed to do,” Yes Man Prime actually managed a retort, Nikolai had to commend him for that. “One would expect the ANM to say something like, ‘the public deserves to know,’ in order to save their story.” He actually had a pretty good point, the ANM was almost comically nosy when it came to anything they could turn into a -gate, anything that could stop them from reporting would have to be something significant.
“You’re correct, the ANM would do anything for a story. I of all people know this to be true. However, their search for the truth stops just before they have to stick their necks out. You see… a reporter for the ANM would be willing to destroy any individual’s life for a story… well, any life except their own.” Sam Monroe did not agree with this statement, but he understood the difference in their station in life and he clammed up.
The big man cleared his throat, a message for everyone to be quiet. “The point of the matter is that we cannot allow any of this legislation to pass. Mary, I want you to move all our lobbyists to the Faust Manor. Make it perfectly clear that any legislation will prove to be… regrettable. Nikolai, I want you to report as much as you can without breaking the law.”
“That doesn’t include a lot, actually. You’d probably have more luck with your spies and lobbyists,” Nikolai responded. “Security regarding classified intel is really strict… you wouldn’t be able to get anything out of me that the ANM doesn’t already know.”
Sitting immediately to the right of the big man was the vice-CEO who was also, interestingly, Nikolai’s older brother. Nikolai had been told that Joseph Volkov had the same cold blue eyes and pure black hair as his father, but his color blindness forced him to take them at their word. “Don’t you have any input on what Duke Faust signs? Surely you at least have knowledge of what bills pass over his desk.”
“You know I don’t have any power in the public sector, bro. The extremely paranoid Osiris family wouldn’t let me, a member of the historically blood-thirsty Volkov family, see anything which could ultimately lead to an unfair advantage in the market place. Duke Faust cannot invest or even own anything in the private sector because corruption should be avoided at all costs, according to the Civilian Laws.”
“You should have the trust of Duke Faust,” Joseph argued with the same cold demeanor as he did with everything else, “Doesn’t he tell you about some of the things he has to deal with on a day-to-day basis.”
“Well… I know he’s planning on retiring in a few years, but he doesn’t tell me anything beyond that,” Nikolai gave his brother something to satiate his thirst for information. “Trust me, even if I was planning on breaking any of the Civilian Laws, I really wouldn’t be as useful as you’d think.”
“How can we be sure about that?” Joseph belligerently pushed forward, “we can’t be sure where your loyalty falls when you don’t tell us anything. As far as anyone sitting at this table knows, you could be hiding any number of secrets which could cause this business to be harmed. We can’t know whether you’re on our side or the Fausts’ side.”
Nikolai managed to keep up his coy smile, but several of the executives around the table noticed that it started to get just a little more strained. “You’ve gotta have some trust, bro. No one can be absolutely certain what anyone else is thinking; this is what makes business so interesting. Plus, even if I was on the Fausts’ side, there’s not a damn thing anyone here can do about it.”
Joseph Volkov opened his mouth to argue further, but was stopped by a gesture from the CEO. The two brothers leaned back in their chairs and diverted their attention back to their father. “Our only solace in this situation is that the Faust family will not be able to pass any legislation without notifying the public first,” the big man said. “Amendment to the previous statement, Mary,” he looked at the COO. “I need all you to divert some of our information gatherers to the floors 148 and 150 to keep an eye on the situation. Tell them to only report back to me if it appears that Duchess Smith is losing the battle. Best case scenario, no legislation is passed and we don’t have to liquidate our assets. Meeting adjourned.”
No one left the room until a healthy amount of time after the CEO passed through the door into the hallway. When all of the executives in the room were standing and the big man was gone, Joseph Volkov said in full view of everyone in the room, “I’d like to talk to you in my office, Nikolai.” A different business man with more to prove might have resented getting pulled into his brother’s office like a delinquent child, but Nikolai liked to think he was secure in his position as CFO of one of the biggest business on the H.T.S. Goliath.
The brothers took a few flights of stairs down until they reached the vice CEO’s office where Joseph worked. Generally, this tactic of inviting another member of your business into your office is only used when dealing with people below your station. However, the Volkov family had to appear to be starting to cut ties with Nikolai for political reasons, it wouldn’t be socially acceptable for a mega-corporation like the Volkov Group to be friends with the person who will eventually sign the extremely damaging reform bills. Joseph asked a secretary to close the door behind Nikolai after he had taken a seat at his expensive reclining chair. He made sure that at least five people “overheard” this order. Nikolai stood there with his hands in his pockets and his eyes focused on his brother until the door came to a thunderous close.
As soon as the door was closed, Nikolai’s intense frown of confrontation quickly turned into the conspiratorial grin of schoolboy who just put pranked the rest of the school. “‘Did you see their faces when dad threatened to liquidate all our assets?” he briefly gestured toward the door. “Just the thought of losing their jobs almost gave half the old farts in that room a heart attack,” he said to his brother who was smirking behind the cold eyes of indifference.
“That entire room might have rioted if they didn’t worship money,” Joseph joked, “as far as they’re concerned, that was just an example of their god threatening to throw a hissy fit if not appeased.” This statement was surprisingly accurate. Nikolai had noticed that many of his coworkers in upper-management had developed a penchant for calling his father the big man. He also remembered Mary Lister’s respect for his father when she wasn’t inclined to respect anyone else, least of all her boss. It suddenly struck him that this wasn’t just good politics, it was complete and total deitization.
“Interesting…” Nikolai put his thoughts into words, “do you think some of these people actually see our dad, Kristoff Volkov, as some sort of a superhuman?”
Joseph Volkov’s expression lit up with enjoyment when he realized that he knew something that his brother didn’t know. “Absolutely. Anyone that can do what dad did with a business deserves just a little adulation. However, you should note that such opinions probably would not be particularly popular on the upper floors.”
“Maybe that’s why some of them are rebelling,” Nikolai guessed. He figured his brother concurred when Joseph placed his corrective lenses on the faux-wood table and pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the sudden stress headache which had suddenly re-emerged. “Around here,” he motioned to all of Floor 112, “the most important factor, by far, is money and what it can buy. I mean, you’re almost a second class citizen if you don’t have an obscene amount of money like the two of us.”
“Please,” Joseph said with equal parts humor and actual pain, “don’t bring up the protests in Floor 80 or the riots on the upper floors. The last couple of days have been secret meeting after secret meeting with dad about what he called ‘reform prevention.’ If I never have to hear about the upper floors again, it’ll be too soon.” Joseph quickly placed the horn-rimmed spectacles, which he had bought years ago to make him look older, back on the bridge of his nose and continued, “You’ve got a point, though. If we were to look at it from their perspective, we start to understand why they’re so angry. Everything from the gravitational difference to the fact that there is practically no industry other than prison running and cheap labor just screams oppression. You know, if they had a half-decent education system, we might be hearing a few of the union leaders hurling words like aristocracy, serfs, or proletariat at people like us.”
Nikolai stretched one of his arms out and walked over to one side of the vice CEO’s room. He retrieved a chair and moved it to the opposite side of Joseph’s desk. “You’d be surprised with everything the Fausts have to deal with. I believe Duke Faust is currently at a meeting with the leader of the teaching union and Duchess Faust is talking at a college on Floor 102 about the ethics of economic reforms.”
“Ethics of economic reforms?” Joseph nearly choked on the words as they left his perfect white teeth. He said the phrase as if it was just the most preposterous thing he had ever heard. “What is there to argue about?” the vice-CEO of the Volkov Group took a sip of the clear glass of water which had sat on his desk ever since he had entered the room, “For most people the entire debate starts and ends at how much money is currently in their bank account. There’s no ethics to be argued there, the poor most certainly want economic reforms and the rich most certainly do not.”
“They argue about economic reforms endlessly because it looks good on paper for the working class,” Nikolai explained as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “I’m certain someone will be comforted by the fact that the Fausts know about the push for economic reform.” He sat down in the chair he had retrieved from one end of the room.
Joseph gestured in a frantic circular motion, as if to get across that he wanted to get the conversation back on track, “Either way, this whole debate on economic reform is completely useless. It is a big complicated question with a simple answer.”
“But the working class doesn’t know that,” Nikolai flashed a lame smile to state just how powerless he was at the hands of the general public. “They seem to think that enough arguing will get some of the rich people to come over to their side. It’s a massive headache for the Fausts and everyone within shouting distance of Duke Faust’s office.”
“Speaking of Fausts and headaches, how is that fiancée of yours?” Joseph joked, unaware of how close to home that statement struck.
There was a moment of hesitation before Nikolai decided to answer truthfully, “Angry, mostly,” he said. “She’s angry that her public image is hurt by being associated with me and angry that she’ll have to work with a smartass like me for the rest of her life.” He belatedly peered around the room, what he just shared would cause an uproar in the hands of the ANM.
“Don’t worry,” Joseph didn’t seem to notice the sudden change in attitude of the conversation, “I’m sure she’ll grow out of this stage eventually.” The vice-CEO of the Volkov Group began shuffling through a pile of papers on his desk.
“Oh, don’t give me that ‘marriage gets better with age’ crap,” Nikolai complained loudly, “I’ve heard that argument too many times from too many people who would gain politically for it to mean anything to me.”
The back of Joseph’s head reflected against the large circular window behind him when he said, “A minor obstacle, surely. Come on, there’s gotta be some kind of chemistry between the two of you.” This sentence would have been much more creepy if Joseph wasn’t younger than just about everyone who worked at the Volkov Group.
“Ew, no,” Nikolai was repulsed at the very idea that he could possibly feel anything for the girl who he was supposed to marry in a few years. “She’s the last person I’d ever have a physical relationship with. The most intimate we ever get is when the two of us are expected to kiss on camera, and let me tell you, that happens more often than I would like.”
“Wait,” Joseph stopped shuffling through his papers for a second to glance up at his brother, “do you mean to tell me that there’s really nothing there?”
Nikolai shrugged in his seat, “It’s a political marriage that neither of us asked for, but we keep up appearances because that’s what we have to do. I see other people and she probably would do the same if she wasn’t so uptight and… well... fifteen.”
Joseph dropped the papers on to the table and diverted all his attention to the conversation, “Wow, that changes a lot. That might be even weirder than most of dad’s relationships.”
“It shouldn’t, loveless marriages are surprisingly common in political circles,” Nikolai said with more insight than a man his age should have. “Speaking of which, have you met Susanne yet? She seemed pretty cool when I met her.”
“No,” Joseph made a face like he had just smelled a sewer. “I try to wait until six months before talking to Dad’s new girlfriends. So far, I’ve only met two since I moved out.”
In order to get his point across, Nikolai slapped his fist onto the side of his chair, “That’s what makes me like Susanne so much. Only crazy people and soldiers would undertake something with such a grim turnover rate.”
“Dad’s relationships haven’t been particularly fulfilling ever since Mom died,” Joseph warned. “You should stay away from Susanne, she won’t be around for very long.”
“I can’t remember a time when Dad’s relationships were fulfilling,” an edge made its way into Nikolai’s tone of voice. “Has he ever not been the vampire we all know him to be?”
Joseph continued with the same composure he managed to always maintain, “Yeah, he used to be… uh… socially responsible. It happened when you were five and I was fourteen. The murderer got caught but Dad managed to convince himself that Mom would have survived if he could afforded more expensive medical care, and everything’s been all about money and paranoia ever since.”
“A little paranoia can save your life, you know.” Nikolai changed the subject to something much less uncomfortable.
“Bulletproofing all your jackets isn’t a little paranoia,” Joseph seemed happy to change the subject.
“The people I hang out with get shot at occasionally,” Nikolai unconsciously sunk deeper into his chair, suddenly aware that he wasn’t protected by an unnecessary amount of kevlar.