Chapter 9 Salvation
It was raining heavily on the Malstrom home world, thick acidic rain, for the third day running. It hissed and spat, thudding down relentlessly on the worn and scared surfaces of the buildings, that climbed up into the sky from the choking, congested streets, of the capital far below. The run-off collected in recycling tanks, designed to extract any chemicals that could be profitably recovered for industrial uses, before flushing the waste water into the sewers. Where it would be made barely drinkable, then recirculated back into the public water supply. Bottled off-world water was an extremely profitable sideline for Malstrom. A sign of status, wealth, and power, among the huddled masses that fought to earn a living on the acid scared streets in, for the most part, their employer provided enviro suits. Traditionally unemployment and homelessness dropped off significantly during the rainy season.
“No mercy or compassion for the weak.” grumbled the refuse collector as he picked up the acidified body and checked it over.
It had already been picked clean by scavengers. The enviro suit was a cheap black market knock off that had cost the wearer their life. Which was probably why the scavengers had left it on the corpse. Between them the suit and its wearer might raise a credit or three, at best, from recycling into their component parts and chemicals. He checked his credit rating, looked up at the sky and cursed the rain. If it didn’t stop, or if he didn’t beat the scavengers to a big score soon, he’d be joining that poor bastard in the recycler.
High above him the Penthouse Suite of Malstrom's corporate headquarters, poking through the cloud base, basked in brilliant sunshine. The stakeholders avatars were locked inside the board room, engaged in an important meeting, oblivious to the daily struggle for survival far beneath them.
The collection of photons that represented Henderson had, as ever, assumed the persona of a balding middle age man. Dressed in an exclusive designer, charcoal grey, collarless, pinstriped business suit, that was the corporate trademark of Malstrom. The bright sunlight streaming through the windows had the effect of diffusing the photons of the avatars, sat around the cold grey marble table, till they were barely visible. He held up his left hand and clicked his fingers, dropping the tint on the windows, to a point where the motley collection of stakeholders coalesced into clearly visible forms. Their numbers had become much diminished of late and those that remained where altogether more uniform and somber in dress and appearance. Matching for the larger part Henderson’s subdued style of dress, eschewing some of the ostentatious displays of wealth and power that had marked them out in the past. He looked around the table and smiled. Silently pulling his trademark sliver cigarette case from his jacket he opened it, pulling out a cancer stick, before snapping it shut again. He taped it firmly on the case three times before slipping it back into his jacket. Casually he flicked the cigarette up into the air, random photons spinning off it in all directions, as it cart-wheeled round and round. He pulled out his lighter with his left hand, caught the falling cigarette in his right, bringing it to his mouth as he lent slightly forward and lit it in one swift flowing movement. He dropped the lighter back into his pocket, inhaled deeply, and blew a virtual smoke ring across the table.
He scanned the faces round the table staring intently back at him. “Ladies and gentlemen it has been a long and difficult journey. Sadly our numbers have been reduced and we have lost many dear and trusted friends along the way who were ‘judged and found wanting.’” he paused for emphasis, allowing his words to sink in. “But the hour of our salvation is at hand, we who have remained faithful to the Brethren, the true believers, are soon to be rewarded.” slowly he raised his voice to a dramatic climax. “And our enemies, who even now are on their way here, who believe they have come to pick over the bones of our once mighty corporate corpse, will find themselves called to judgement and truly it is they will be found wanting and we who shall be picking over theirs.”
There was an awkward silence and distinct lack of enthusiasm from his captive audience some of whom coughed uneasily.
“Ah, I know what you’re all thinking, even if you’re afraid to say it.” he circled his arms around in all encompassing gesture. “That some of my plans and promises haven’t worked out as intended in past. Thanks to that turncoat Jasper and that unmitigated pain in the ass Ford. So ladies and gentlemen let’s put all the cards on the table in a manner of speaking.” He prodded the air above him three times once to his right, once to his left and once above his head. Three holographic images appeared above him. “Behold the main battle fleets of the Vesperon, Haldyne and Zodan Corporations, on route here, ETA forty-eight hours.”
There was a sharp intake of breath around the table. “We’re finished, no one can stop them.” someone off to Henderson’s left blurted out.
Henderson smiled. “We’re not planning to stop them were going to take control of them, every last ship, when we play the ace we have hidden up our sleeve so to speak.” With a theatrical flourish he conjured up the queen hearts which he had concealed up his right sleeve. He flicked it across the table. Paused for effect then with another flourish produced the ace of hearts from his left sleeve and tossed it alongside the queen. “Allow me to explain.” He bowed and clicked his fingers. His avatar and the displays above him dissolved, to be replaced by a larger than life representation of the High Priestess aboard the Dobzhansky, hood up and head bowed.
She lifted up her head and threw back the purple hood, red and orange flames flickering through her hair and eyes as she spoke. “Truly it is good to behold so many of the faithful in one place and your generosity has not been forgotten. This ship will arrive in thirty-six hours, a full twelve hours before your enemies, our enemies, and we will smite them down when they arrive. They will become our servants, servants of the faith as the prophet has predicted.” an image of Anderson hard wired to the data core appeared behind her. “Who even now communes with the ark to bring about their downfall. Truly you have all been blessed, for you shall witness their fall into chaos, from which we will arise to bring a new order to the galaxy.”
Exiles Page 23
