Extraction 07 - Nemo

Hasbruck thumped his chest loudly, then frantically waved away Alesa's attention. "S-sir, do you have any idea how much iridium the entirety of Morgan Industries – in all its five colonies – produces every year?"

"I dunno. A ton, maybe? Maybe two?"

"About a quarter of a ton. Germanium is even rarer on Planet."

And I deposited four metric tons each. Sixteen tons total of rare metals. Fuck. I fucked up.

"Sir, even I know that would be disastrous for their economy." Jennefer gasped with alarm.

I turned, wide-eyed with panic, towards Alesa. "I'm truly sorry. I really didn't mean to accidentally crash your metals market."

But whatever else I expected, instead she looked so strangely serene like some sort of Buddha. She sat straight with her palms over each other on her lap. "Worry not, Commander. It hasn't. Yet. Our currency is not backed by anything so volatile as precious metals, but each Energy Credit is only redeemable as fully-charged fuel cells in the megajoule range."

"Shouldn't that be even more volatile? You can always just produce more fuel cells. Why don't you suffer horrible inflation every time someone lays down a new solar collector?"

"That's because energy is the ability to do work – and by work, we define it as what transforms raw materials into consumables. More energy available means the greater ability to produce goods, expand territory, and run machinery. More rare metals available means more resources at hand to produce fuel cells and computers. Energy Credits are inherently fungible – so an abundance goes into the necessary materials and manpower to build a Colony Pod or open new frontiers for exploitation. Energy is a capital investment. There will be a short-term shock, but it is ultimately a boon to our efforts."

"If I dump this much metal into the open market…"

"Who do you think would be your biggest buyer? Morgan Mines."

"Only Morgan Mines has the large-scale facilities for smelting and forging metals." Hasbruck added. "This is not to say that it will not cause a total collapse of the metals market, of course. This will cause a devastating ripple effect that could bankrupt whole sections of the economy." The portly banker opened his hands out. "We understood the booby trap placed in our vaults when we accepted your deposit, Commander Nemo. So I can only beg you now, please do not do this."

It occurred to me that this would be a great way to punish the Morgans for their perfidy. It would hurt the Bank, yes, but it would ultimately benefit the populace with cheaper goods and quicker development of infrastructure.

I felt again Jennefer's hands stroking down the back of my neck. The Gaians were the injured party here, not I. What right did I have to condemn and punish people I barely knew for reasons that boiled down to 'I want to feel powerful'? To seek justice for their deaths was Deirde's job as the Faction Leader of Gaia's Stepdaughters.

"All right. The metals sit."

"Thank you. But let us return to the main point, Commander. You desire transferable liquid assets, yes?" Alesa laced her fingers together and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. They used to call this the Gendo Pose(tm) back when the FFML was still a thing. I could just feel her smirk hidden under her palms. She knew now I had no awareness of how much a single Energy Credit is worth. Shit.

She continued "You only really need to liquidate one-tenth of one of your deposited blocks to be able to buy outright anything smaller than a Colony Pod. Everything else can be purchased on credit backed by your metals as collateral."

I leaned back and put my hands in my pockets, oh-so-casually. Yeah? Well today I am the Dude. The Dude abides. "Good, good. Third, then. What are Morgan Laws on the ownership of alien artifacts and land upon which alien ruins sit?"

Hasbruck responded, with relief ringing in his voice "There are no limitations on the ownership of small alien artifacts, though land in Morgan Territory with alien structures are considered de facto owned by Morgan Industries with preferred exploitation rights for the local Colony. Those who find them are given a substantial finding fee for their troubles."

"As expected. Therefore… the fourth. I want to establish a company, or perhaps a franchise, called ARM Expeditions that deals with exploration and alien research. This company, I wish to have branches in both Gaian and Morgan territory, to expand to other factions as the company grows and as the faction leaders allow.

And related to this: Establish a trust and lobbying firm to support ARM Explorations, to smooth out whatever legal hurdles and bureaucracy and misgivings from the locals that they need to overcome just to operate.

They will surrender all unearthed artifacts to the local government, after the requisite time to catalog and scan the objects, as long as they are allowed to explore and conduct research within their borders. All I asked is that they must first report to me of their finds – if there's any I want to keep, I will pay them and the ones who own said territory more than adequate compensation."

I could feel Jenny's fingers tickle the little hairs at the nape of my neck, but after a second or two she withdrew her hand.

Alesa looked very intrigued. I could feel her cloying, contemplative gaze as if she was peeling me from forehead to toe. "There will be no problems with this company formation, Commander. I presume you also want us to compile a list of potential applicants to company positions for your approval?"

"I'm going to head over to Gaia's Landing after this. Whoever you select, they must be willing to travel. In fact, they must be willing to conduct all operations offshore." I paused. "Speaking of which, there's no law anywhere that states a company can't have its offices on a Carrier, right?"

"N-not in particular, no. It's just the logistics that would present a serious problem."

Joachim Hasbruck coughed. "Miss deVorcelk. Could I please speak with you in private for a moment?"

Alesa turned to me and gave a 'what can you do' gesture. "Commander Nemo. I beg your pardon, but could I confer with my associate?"

"Sure, no problem."

-o-

They stood and walked over towards the fireplace. Facing away, they began speaking in hushed tones. While they were talking, Hasbruck did this sort of rolling shrug that I didn't even need to see his face to know he was saying 'It's a TRAAAAAP!'

Or was that choreographed for my eyes? I couldn't be sure.

Jennefer tugged at the hairs at the back of my head. "Sir, you're throwing away a lot of your rights to your discoveries. The Morgans would never really allow you to operate so freely inside their territory, and the people they choose will serve their own interests first."

"I'm counting on that." I whispered back. "There's very little I want in Morgan territory. The real prize is elsewhere, and Gaian explorers will be there first. It's the precedent that's important."

-o-

After several minutes of furious discussion, the two Morgan bankers returned.

Alesa began with "We have the appropriate forms for your new company. Processing might take some time, but I foresee no real difficulties."

Joachim added "Exploration rights are often given in a Charter personally granted by each Faction Leader. You will have to speak with CEO Morgan himself."

"And I trust you will arrange that. Today, if possible. Consider that my fifth request."

"Commander, that is… a tall order. Morgan Bank is ready to help its clients in any possible way for mutual profit, but it does not exercise anywhere near the political clout to open a direct line to Morgan himself at anyone's request."

I lifted my right eyebrow and gave them the most incredulous look. "I am an unknown quality with unknown levels of funding and industry, who might possibly have an unknown number of torpedoes pointed all round the Gulf, with unknown amounts of platforms and manpower as a reserve. Morgan wants me to present myself first as a supplicant before he even deigns to speak to me. That's fine. Please make up the appropriate words and send it on my behalf."

Alesa slowly nodded. "I-if that is your wish. We can only make the attempt."

"Excellent! And now would you excuse me, please? I need to discuss something with my… advisor."

I expected a lot of hemming and hawing and some negotiation on funding and time limits, but no. Whatever I want, as long as it was possible to achieve, I may have it. The role of a facilitator was to get shit done, no matter what. That was their own pride.

-o-

I pulled Jennefer aside and back to the kitchen.

"They're being very reasonable here. They're… starting to creep me out. Is this normal?" I whispered dazedly.

"I know… it scares me too. I've never realized before that contracts and trying to get the intent behind words could be so… exhausting. The Morgans are known for being scrupulously honest in their deals, until the moment they feel they no longer need to." Jenny whispered back. "I don't trust them, yet I don't think they will try to trap you with some some loophole or fine print here."

"Right. That sort of trickery is for amateurs. To really screw over someone in a deal, it's better to allow the other party to self-destruct all on his own terms." I took a deep breath and tried to put myself in their shoes. My money in the bank... that meant nothing. Think long-term. There's more where that came from. Reputation... reliability... now that's priceless.

Just as pacifists could be a complex set of motivations and personalities, greed too was a set of principles that could be positive. I mean, just because greed was Scrooge McDuck's defining character flaw, that did not mean the way he earned his wealth wasn't by a credo of: "Life is filled with tough jobs, and there'll always be sharpies to cheat me ... well, I'll be tougher than the toughies and sharper than the sharpies, and I'll make my money square!"

That was what made him interesting. Sometimes the story is about what can't change the nature of a duck.

Nwabudike Morgan himself wrote 'The Ethics of Greed.' I had yet to read the book, but I doubted that it was as self-serving as the title makes it sound.

"With doppelganger Alice there I'm just wondering how long before zombies come into the picture."

Jenny stared at me blankly for several seconds. She huffed. "Right. I forgot this about you."

"No, let me explain. It's a funny little story. She just reminds me very strongly of this -."

Jenny held up her hands and looked away as if pushing an invisible wall between us. "Sir, please don't. Some things, I think, I'm not meant to know."

That was meant as a joke. Yet a sudden, bowel-clenching loneliness gripped me. There was no one alive that would ever get my little injokes and references again. I laughed a little bit too loudly.

-o-

We returned to the negotiations, and the two Morgan representatives suddenly stopped short their own whispered discussions. That Alesa deVorcelk's gaze burned with uncanny interest was an understatement. If the speculative gleam in her eyes was a laser, she'd qualify as a mobile orbital denial platform.

Then, the Sixth: Establish an investment trust and charitable foundations on all Morgan Bases.

Jennefer sucked in her breath and turned around. She was fighting, with all her might, not to laugh.

Joachim Hasbruck looked like he'd bitten into a bitter seed but, if anything, Alesa deVorcelk just beamed with fresh enthusiasm. "Of course, sir. There will be no problem. What sort of foundation would you like to establish?"

So they still had those procedures in the books? Super surprising.

She seemed to completely approve of the idea. She was the sort of person who brightened the room with her mere presence. She stood well away from me, across the tablet, and yet for some reason I felt as if she was gripping the sides of my head. I was utterly lost as to who was more dangerous – her, or the person beside her who was near invisible by comparison.

"Unemployment assistance-"

Hasbruck made a little sound as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"Orphan assistance. And scholarships."

"Very good, sir." deVorcelk replied with a soft tone that seemed to say 'everything makes sense now!'

Whatever epiphany she seemed to have gained, I pushed through. "I want acceptance to any of these programs automatic to any applicant. Float no-interest loans to those who need food and shelter, until they can find another job. See if they are qualified for some job in the ARM Empire if they are willing to work honestly and live cleanly."

"Excuse me, what? What was that just now?"

I looked up to Jen. "Automatic acceptance to a relief program? Is... that a problem?"

She huffed. "No, that- that other thing... no, never mind."

"Uh. Okay then. Orphanages are to be established; those who are given over to an ARM Cradle Foundation will be automatically eligible for scholarship if they pass the tests, and later employment under ARM Expeditions or any other company I establish later. ARM Educational Outreach is to be open to anybody regardless of age, gender, or even nationality."

I would throw even more money at them if they could get it done quickly. I must be well-established before I even reach Gaia's Landing.

"Y-you're setting up a welfare money sink." Joachim said in a voice damn near robotic.

"You're setting up a core of generational workers under your banner." Alesa mumbled with strange quaver. "Commander… does the word ninkyo dantai mean anything to you?"

"Uh. Well, yes. But hardly anything like setting up a thing of ours in Morgan lands, I assure you. Those who wish to defect from decadence, send them to me. Those who want to explore new lands and discover old secrets, yet fearing not having their faces eaten by Mind Worms… send them to me. Those who cannot work by your terms, I will put them to use."

Joachim shook his head sadly. "You realize, Mister Nemo, that you're inviting anyone to travel for free and get educated on your dime? This is unsustainable! Whole governments have fallen for such… insolvent policies."

I laughed. I clenched my left fists near my face, opening and closing, wiggling my fingers about. "I need not chase after metal and energy. I thank you for your concern, but my wealth is mine to dispose of as long as it does not damage your economy too badly. There's always more where that came from."

Wealth is fine and all, but no one here gets it. This whole Planet's Resonance Field, the neural net of fungal towers and fungal blooms - a vast, planetwide telepathic matrix…

A telepathic matrix exactly like the one that I was using to send and receive information from all the units under my command. We teleport metal and energy, and kilotons of mass across interstellar distances – why wouldn't we teleport information from place to place?

"In time, even you will realize, that Planet has greater wonders than just these..."

-o-

=0=

Penthouse Suite

One Day Later

It was time.

I held the little ring in my hands with all the reverence I could muster. This was a blueprint that only existed in the oldest ARM Commanders. Emergent nanotech-borne viruses could allow both ARM and CORE Commanders to seize control of enemy units and buildings and turn the enemy's strengths against themselves. But this was something they could not – would not – duplicate. It was the closest thing to blasphemy that could exist in our dead civilization.

This ring was the symbol of authority for ARM… a signature ring, crafted by an ARM Commander's nanolathe, and once handed over to mortal hands it represented the return of civilian control to the galaxy. Completely unique and sourced from the quantum foam, only one of its kind could ever exist in the universe.

A simple little thing, but my ability to lathe it at all meant one thing:

My duty to ARM is done. (You are free.)

The war against CORE is over. (It is the time for peace.)

The defeat I faced was total. (Only in death does duty end.)

I serve and protect whoever the hell I want to. (This concept of 'trolling' intrigues us.)

ARM did not have a consciousness impregnated into the Quantum Foam. That's Patterning. The very thing we fought against.

That I could put on the signet ring at all proved that the war was over. An ARM Commander was literally incapable of doing so; their nerves would seize up before even trying. They were designed for the role they would serve in society, a necessary sacrifice, but ARM were masters of biology. One's body need not be the same through all one's life.

The separation between civilian and military was sacrosanct in a society that uses clones. ARM, unlike CORE, was composed of several different space polities, most of them representative monarchies.

"A chop. Interesting!" said Alesa, her lips quirking up on sight of the overly large and gaudy ring that I cradled with excessive reverence.

"A what now?" Jen asked.

"A name seal" I replied. "Derived from the Hindi word 'chapa', though name seals are most often used by Far East Asian bureaucracy, like Chinese Emperors and their Heirloom Seal of the Realm."

Jen nodded. "I see. Instead of signing your signature, you're going to stamp the forms. That sounds much less tiring. But is that secure?"

"Please. You really think I'm going to use something as easy to duplicate as ink?"

She tilted her head ever-so-slightly, as if to imply that she did not put anything past me at all, no matter how brilliant or fucking stupid it may be. She would not judge. It was nice to be held to such unlimited potential.

Wait. No. It was not.

I slapped my butt back down on the couch and fanned out the papers. A scanning green beam went over each page, saving the contents to memory, because of course a post-scarcity society who could build nearly anything would not commit to anything unless it could be verified. The Morganites were hardly surprised. The world had advanced much in the 2060s, document scanning was pro forma.

Alesa's eyes glittered with concentration as I pressed the seal onto paper.

Onto the signature line, a metallic blue symbol now rested.

A simple thing. It looked trivial to duplicate. But the ring was a micro-nanolathe. It was not just a symbol pressed onto paper, but impregnated the paper with a weave of superconducting material and into that pattern a holographic copy of the document itself and my personal authentication code.

Again and again I marked papers that were banded with colorful strips of precious metal for proof of authenticity. I knew and they knew that these forms were all worthless. The only and strongest contract was that of mutual self-interest.

It was done. They gathered up the forms and prepared to leave. Alesa held out her hand again. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Commander."

"No, no, the pleasure was all mine…"

But as I reached for her hand, she instead wrapped her fingers around mine and pulled my hand up to her lips. She did not kiss my fingers, but took a deep sniff as her lower lip nibbled at t thumb.

I shivered.

"I do so hope we would… perform mutually beneficial exchanges with each other again, soon." she crooned as she pulled away.

Okay, to hell with it. I couldn't just leave it like that.

I lunged forward, ignoring how she flinched and "Miss deVorcelk…" with strange desperation, I whispered "I would very much appreciate it if you… stayed away from Morgan Metagenics. There's odd coincidences, and then there's tempting fate.

What I've seen may never come to pass, but it would still put me very much at ease if you were not a participant in that clusterfuck."

"I'm afraid I don't follow…?"

"If someone must perform unethical genetic experiments for The Longevity Vaccine, let Zakharov take the damage."

I pulled away, and I saw in her face only confusion and little bit of fear. I'm sorry, I wanted to say. Please forgive my stupid obsolete pop culture nerdity.

"I… will certainly keep that in mind, Commander Nemo. Thank you?" she murmured. Then her voice firmed. "Yes, this has been a very interesting discussion indeed! Let us speak again. Call upon me whenever you want. I'm always at your service, Commander."

Soon enough, the bankers were gone from the building. I collapsed as if boneless back onto the couch, exhausted beyond belief. Dealing with people was so emotionally draining.

Jennefer laid down a cup of tea on the table. "Thank you…" I murmured.

She remained standing there. I bent my head up to see that Jenny stood over me with her arms crossed. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, her lips a thin bloodless line.

"We need to talk…" she said.

Oh come on! I flopped back and stared numbly up at the turquoise enameled ceiling.

Someone give me a break already!

####

MEMSTOR from DATALINKS "Industrial Base"

- n received:

The first colonies lack any kind of factories or heavy industry, so the creation of an Industrial Base becomes a high priority for economic growth. This Industrial Base emphasizes small-scale manufacturing with primitive assembly lines and simple currency instruments.

Resources exist to be consumed. And consumed they will be, if not by
this generation then by some future. By what right does this forgotten
future seek to deny us our birthright? None I say! Let us take what is
ours, chew and eat our fill.

—CEO Nwabudike Morgan, "The Ethics of Greed"

This is the wasteful self-indulgent thinking of conspicuous consumption
that led to Earth's demise.

—Diedre Skye, "The Annotations"

Oh, would you rather the Spartans make more weapons out of them
instead?

—CEO Nwabudike Morgan, "MorganNet PlanetPosts"