Extraction [4] - Nemo
A Morganite colony was… exactly like Las Vegas.
Since the ARM Commander had very little remaining memory of civilian life, this was the best fit. It was a den of vice, shining with false glories, delusions masquerading as hope, and love for sale. It was a literal temple to conspicuous consumption capped with burnished gold on the outside, ringed by smaller arcology buildings linked by raised light rails. For some reason Morgan Bases had a neo-classical aesthetic, with decorative pillars lining their outside walls. Yet it was not the Parthenon that the image evoked, but Wall Street.
It was actually fairly impressive. Morgans did not skimp on infrastructure, because they knew that maintenance was the cost of ownership. Delays and interruptions in transport and public utilities meant lost revenue and discontent. Morgan citizens could be justifiably proud in that they lived a life of comfort and ease unmatched by any others on Planet. If they had to despoil the lands around them, what did that matter?
They didn't need windows to the outside. Everything they ever wanted was theirs for the taking in a self-contained manufactured Xanadu.
As long as you had the money, of course.
I rubbed at my still swollen lips. I had a problem with a really easy solution. I could crush their economy in seconds, it was just a matter of how many innocent people I would be willing to see suffer and die in the chaos.
For this reason, not even the ARM Commander was willing to sacrifice civilians to satisfy any revenge fantasy. I literally had enough of warfare. I fought harder and further than anyone living, and it was time to stop. The "me" that did not fight that war would probably have a lot more in common with the Morgans than he'd dare to admit. The ARM Commander was in the process of rediscovering the word 'morals' in respect to anything that isn't 'kill CORE by any means'.
The Matilda couldn't enter the ports of Morgan Robotics because it was simply too big for any of its piers. We had to lower ourselves into one of the Morgan Foils. The Gaians were understandably worried about this, but I reminded everyone that if I was willing to risk my life aboard my ship, nothing changed in doing so in someone else's ship.
Also, it would be doubly suspicious to die at the very footstep of a Morgan Base, as if we tried to seize control of these Foils when all we needed was a ferry into the thing.
We arrived at night. Entering from the bleak wilderness of planet, the blinding glows of the Morgan City was like being welcomed into a world of infinite possibilities. It was like Old Earth in its zenith, when the resources were draining yet still plentiful, and globalization was in full swing.
Awaiting us by the landings were more armed troops, and was that an APC at the back? A man in a business suit stood in front of the group. He was thickly built and wearing sunglasses. Instead of being bald to complete the stereotype of a government spook, he instead wore his hair in a ponytail.
The Morgan Gatling Foil moored and extended its ramp. I was first off the ship, and we spoke simultaneously -
"Gentlemen-!"
"Commander Nemo, I presume?"
"You presume correctly."
"Welcome to Morgan Transport, Commander. I am District Chief Joachim Diaz. For your own protection, would you kindly-
I spread out my arms and grinned. "Gentlemen, I would just like you to know –"
"… follow us to –"
There was a massive virtual billboard behind them that was advertising shampoo or something. It was abruptly replaced by my face and my shit-eating grin. "… that I am still recording!"
Diaz' eyes bulged. That came out from all speakers within the area. Even those inside cabs and hand radios. In the future they would call this sort of thing manifold resonance manipulation. For ARM, it was just part of our mastery over the electromagnetic spectrum and anything that can carry a current.
"So, where are we going? I would love to see the inside of a Morgan jail." I said, still with my arms wide in the most obvious 'come at me bro' posture ever. "Would you please care to introduce me to Morgan interrogation techniques?"
Diaz' left cheek twitched. "There's no need for that, sir. We're here to help. You and… your companions… are our honored guests. We have reserved the finest accommodations for your party, and prepared a secure line for your call to the Gaian Embassy at your earliest possible convenience."
I nodded and slowly lowered my hands as I walked off the ramp. The screen behind them still showed an overhead view of the scene. 'Where is that god-damn camera?!' the security forces had to be panicking. All info screens all over the city were showing the same thing.
"I'm reaching into my pocket now. I am not pulling out a weapon. Do you understand?" I spoke up just in case. District Chief Diaz glanced aside to make sure that none of the troops was actually stupid enough to be in the position to fire. He looked relieved anyway as I took out what looked like a deck of cards.
I fanned out the cards. They were fairly thick metal plates; color-coded silver, blue, green, and purple. "Thank you for waiving docking fees, Chief Diaz. I do have items to declare. I presume platinum, iridium, beryllium, and germanium still have some market value?"
Chief Diaz looked like he was sucking lemons. There was no way to hide now that there's some Gaian-aligned obscenely rich nutcase on base. Anything that happened to me now was as if Morgan Authority was out to seize private wealth.
"Such… have value, yes. Do you wish to deposit them into secure facilities in Morgan Bank to participate in the metals market? We may need to levy certain handling fees-" Diaz had to say that line, because waiving fees in my case might cause someone else to ask why they still had to pay theirs; and 'go get a submarine fleet' was not an acceptable answer. "... below a kilogram of material."
I raised my left eyebrow. Was he calling me out? Even if Planet was metal-poor of the 'rare-earths', to the point that the 'planetpearls' found inside Mind Worm husks were very valuable as a source of concentrated heavy metals, a deck of cards could only buy so much. Sure, it's great treasure, but my name was Nemo – not the Comte de Monte Cristo.
Within each ARM Commander unit was a small Metal Maker. Energy-to-Matter, driven by its M/AM reactor, in unlimited quantity. Nanolathes could build anything as long as it had the blueprints, and cubes of pure elements were the simplest plans there could be.
"Four metric tons. Each."
"… sunuvabitch!" someone muttered from behind me.
Yes, Morgans. I can play your game. And by extension, the Gaians under my protection were just as untouchable. The customer was always right. We were in the very heart of the enemy, and it was the safest place we could be.
For mine at last was the technology of peace.
"Kiiill meee…"
"You know, you make it very difficult to think of you as either a madman or a genius. I have to admit, that was a master-stroke. If heads could explode as you shattered their preconceptions, they would still be cleaning up right now."
By this point, I'd been introduced to all sixteen of the Gaian survivors. From three ships, crew of twenty-five each, their poor survival rate was due to spalling and lack of damage controls. Their synthmetal hulls were designed against attacks by native life, not other humans. They all fit easily into one penthouse suite.
We had the top two floors of the hotel Morgan-Ritz-Carlton. We had the finest everything. And since we had unlimited lines of credit, after days of eating nothing but MREs we pigged out on everything we could order from room service. Or rather, I decided to order anything and everything and the crew had to eat the rest or else it would all just go to waste.
"Oh dread Dormammu, this was a mistake." I groaned. "My life is a litany of anguish! Someone please … I'm begging you. Let me die."
"Then you do something like this…" Nobel sighed. "Even idiot savants at least have the decency of being consistent."
"Ooooh. Ooooh. God why. Immune to every toxin that exists and can't even take overeating and carbonated drinks! Ngaah!" I moaned while I rolled from side to side. My body was all of four days old and what the fuck was I thinking that it was a miracle that they still had jalapeno peppers. I slathered 'liquid joy' onto so much oily and cruchy stuff and guzzled everything that fizzed. My body was biologically in its twenties, it was mandatory.
The memories of ARM Commander was all 'eh why not' and now it was 'ooh that's why not'. (Never leave the cockpit of the Command Unit again, the gestalt advised. Nutrient feeds are supremely efficient. They are the quenchiest.)
"Are you a "Perfect", by any chance?" Captain Nobel asked, mercilessly taking advantage of my agonizing lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Some of the crew gasped at the vulgarity of that question.
"If I was actually perfect, do you think I'd be stuck like this?" I had three people sitting on me to stop me from staggering around and trying to bash my face into table edges because of course any other pain to distract me from the fires burning in my inflamed intestines could only be a good thing. "My life is torment! There is no perfection, there is only pain! All shall know the wrath of PAAIN!"
"A P-perfect means someone who has modified genes." Jennefer added.
"Gggh. My enhancements are more surgical than genetic and heeey now there's an idea… ! You!" I pointed to a random Gaian crewman. "Order a scalpel from room service. Since this pain is obviously because of a malfunctioning digestive system, the better to just cut it out entirely. I think I can survive long enough to get a replacement. This! I command!"
"No." said Nobel, without even looking up from his cup of tea.
I toppled over and rubbed my face into the carpet. "Nhuuungh. Whatever innate respect I have for you due to your uncanny resemblance to Freddie Mercury will not save you. I will destroy you, old man."
He sighed again.
"Jen, take him to the baths and help him empty the contents of his stomach, would you? It's best if a pretty girl is the one doing this sort of thing…"
"This sort of thing?" she asked.
"Stick your fingers down his throat until he upchucks."
"I'll do it!" one of the female crew swiftly raised her hand. She had fizzy red hair tried up into two hanging pigtails and more aquiline features compared to Jennefer. She had an eager and very naughty smirk. She was Adelaide Sevon, late of the GSV Sunmaid. "Sir, I'd be happy to help you explore the gag reflex."
The ARM Commander could afford no distractions, and 'chemically castrated' was an applicable term. Among others cut out were sympathy, hesitation at causing collateral damage, forgiveness, and mercy. Only recently have certain concepts become part of my vocabulary again. I could only notice that her manicured red fingernails were filed into attractive yet sharp points.
Suddenly I was much less receptive to entertaining her reasons for her excitement.
"No." Nobel said with a sigh. "Jen… just go."
The bathroom of the suite could be considered a throne room in any lesser place. I was feeling light-headed, my skin cold as ice, and as I walked it felt like I was floating. Jennefer slowly guided me to the gold-plated toilet with a rim lined with warm synthetic fox fur.
I knelt before it like a man facing the guillotine. Jennefer carefully washed her hands. A deep and awkward silence fell as we readied for the procedure
Even through the haze of unfamiliar pain, I mustered the force of will to say – "I would just like you to know… that I derive no sexual pleasure from this."
"Umm…"
"Really, just making it clear. Just so there are no misunderstandings. You're trying to help and I respect that."
Jennefer nodded. "Thank you, sir." She took a deep breath and raised her middle and index fingers. "Here we go, then. Please turn your head this way."
It's fine. It was worth it to be free of the blinding pain that filled my existence.
"P-please don't lick it."
"I canf helf if… whaf elf am I suffosd to do wif ma- blooorgh." Oh hell. All over her hand. "I'm sowwy – blooorgh!"
Jenny shrieked and tried to pull her fingers out my mouth. Unfortunately she lost her balance on the slicky bathroom floor and had to steady herself by placing her other hand on my shoulder. Which shifted my posture towards her instead.
"Blaaargh!"
Nooo!
"Blaaargh. Hork. Boooork."
I couldn't control it at all.
After some more traumatic minutes, the projectile vomiting eased off.
I slumped with my back to the wall, my jaw hanging open while a rattling dying breath gargled out my throat. "Soh sohrry…"
"I-it's okay. I don't mind." The horror and disgust slowly faded from Jenny's eyes. "This is normal. It… happens to everybody, I think? There's no need to be embarrassed."
Don't pat me on the head! There were tears in my eyes because of… the pain. Yeah, that's it. That was a perfectly rational explanation.
Jennefer looked at herself and wrinkled her nose. "We should have expected this…" she sighed. Without any inhibition, in full field medic mode, she took off her shirt leaving her only in her bra. Then her vomit-coated shorts too.
A very interesting development! Normally. But I was still dry-heaving.
Hork. Hork. I was ruining everything with every second. I faced away from her and clung to the toilet bowl's rim. What's this dignity you speak of? You can't eat it! Hoooork.
Jenny rubbed my back, making small circles with her palms. "It's all right. You're okay. Ssh. Don't cry."
Ahaaahaaa… why.
We returned to the living room of the penthouse suite, squeaky clean and dressed only in fluffy bathrobes. Whistles and catcalls greeted us.
"You guys suck and I hate you all." I said dully.
"It's only just now that I remembered we could have ordered room service to bring a stomach pump." Captain Nobel noted.
"Die…" I hissed. "You must - (hic)."
Oh.
"Hic."
Oh shit.
"Oh god (hic) it's like being punched in the thorax every two seconds!" I moaned. Never before had I so cursed the existence of boosted musculature. It was even worse on an empty stomach!
"You're going to have to sleep with him tonight." Captain Nobel told Jennefer.
"Sir!" she gasped. "That's… very improper!"
Nobel coughed into his fist again. "Excuse me. I meant, someone has to stay by his side tonight. I am posting guards outside his room, but the one inside has to be ready to deal with any potential emergency."
None of the usual tricks worked. "I heard that if you stand on your head, that might force your nerves to settle down!" said someone. And without any further ado, two burly Gaian sailors grabbed me by my ankles and hung me upside-down.
Gaians were just so goddamn helpful if they liked you.
"And it has to be someone I can trust won't accidentally kill him."
"I'll do it!" Adelaide spoke up again, raising her hand.
"Someone I can trust won't intentionally kill him." Captain Nobel continued without missing a beat.
"Oh come on!"
The ARM Commander found hiccups very illogical.
(Hic)
Ngggh.
(Hic)
Ngggh.
(Hic.)
"Sir, please don't try to silently endure it all for my sake. I'm here to help. It hurts me if you won't even allow me to try to ease your suffering."
I sighed. Nobel, that canny bastard, was right. I did need someone right by my side, how else could they tell that I'm doing better? Every hiccup bounced the bed. Someone on a different bed or on the floor would fall asleep without knowing.
"Okay. How about this (hic) then? Sit on top of me."
Surprisingly, Jennefer did so without any hint of embarrassment. Only our clothes and the sheets separated our nether regions. We stared at each other for a long, meaningful moment.
"Now (hic) punch me in the stomach really hard. I think that might reset the whole system."
Jenny palmed her face. "Why don't I just get you some sleeping pills?"
"That…!" I recoiled "… is actually a rather good idea."
Morning saw me one of the richest bastards on Planet, after Morgan Central Reserve finally finishing appraising and processing my deposits. Captain Nobel found me sitting on a plush tiger-skin couch, with a jar of brown sugar between my knees. Hic. I dropped a ladle into the jar, brought up another mouthful of granulated crystals, and began to chew.
Jennefer was at the kitchen, preparing some porridge with plenty of ginger.
"… hold my calls." I whimpered. Hic.
So very illogical.
####
MEMSTOR from DATALINKS keyword "Morgan Industries"
- n received:
Morgan Industries (Morganites) are led by CEO Nwabudike Morgan, whose funding and industries were critical to the construction of the Unity. They prefer "Wealth" choices in social engineering. Due to the emphasis on creature comforts by their populace, Morgan bases tend to sprawl and require more spacious Hab Complexes as they grow. Life on a Morgan base is the most similar to that of pre-apocalypse Earth, but there are almost no protections afforded to those who are unemployed.
Human behavior is economic behavior. The particulars may vary, but competition for limited resources remains a constant. Need as well as greed have followed us to the stars, and the rewards of wealth still await those wise enough to recognize this deep thrumming of our common pulse.
— Nwabudike Morgan, "The Centauri Monopoly"
