I couldn't even cry today. I think my heart is finally broken.
What no one had ever told Elisabet about grief was that it came in waves; you didn't just grieve for a period of time and be done with it. It had been over a year since her mother's passing, and it still got to her occasionally and out of the blue.
There were times when something happened that made Elisabet think she should call her mother to tell her about it; she would make the call, and it would take until the notification of the person she was trying to reach being disconnected before she would realize she couldn't call her mother anymore, and that realization would break her heart all over again. Or she'd find herself wishing she could ask her mother for advice about something only to realize she never could again. Or it was something smaller like the other day when she'd burst into tears over a creamy chicken sauce because she'd finally managed to get it to taste almost like Miriam's version of it had tasted (almost, and she knew she never would get it one hundred percent correct because no one anywhere ever could cook a meal as tasty as one's mother could).
Elisabet had decided she didn't want a funeral when her time came. She'd already made arrangements to have her body cremated after donating her organs. The urn would then be buried next to her parents' graves back at the Sobeck Ranch; no funeral, no guests, no ceremonies, just a simple home burial and that would be it.
She'd predicted that were she to have a funeral, it would become a publicity event. It wasn't like she had many friends or family who would come to see her off; however, there were people who liked being seen with her, and these same types would flock to her funeral for clout. She didn't want a bunch of people who didn't really know her standing around, talking about her in past tense, pretending they'd known her when their impressions of her were based on hearsay and their motive for being there was just to be seen and assumed an acquaintance of Elisabet's.
She supposed it was somewhat ironic that she would've preferred not being remembered; she'd never had that odd obsession of wanting to have monuments built in her honor, her name eternally etched into the history books despite the fact that she'd been one of the people responsible for the fact that humanity still had a future at all. She knew a lot of people who did suffer from that need (the name Ted Faro came to mind first when she mentally listed all the greedy egotistical people she knew, and while he was certainly one of the worst, he wasn't by far the only one) and she couldn't understand it.
She hated being idolized, she hated the titles placed on her by the media and the public. She wasn't a hero, she wasn't a savior; she was just one woman, trying to leave the world a better place than she'd found it because her mother had taught her the importance of caring about things, of doing good, of taking responsibility, and of being kind and patient (these last two often easier said than done despite her best efforts).
But the generations that came before her had made it her responsibility to change the world, just like those who'd come before them had done to them. They had destroyed the world and dwelled in the hypocrisy of "how were we supposed to know?", then comforted themselves by saying "the kids will save us", all while not accepting any responsibility and making no effort themselves. Somehow, Elisabet had become the avatar of those hopes and dreams. Everyone was eager to have her take charge, eager to put her on a pedestal, and then they turned around and resented her because their necks hurt from looking up to her.
She hadn't asked for it, she hadn't wanted it, all she'd wanted was to fix things, and not because she was a saint but because she was in a position to make a difference. Frankly, if more people with the same power had actually chosen to serve good rather than kept insisting their personal wealth and comfort were more important than the fate of everyone, maybe things would have never gotten as bad as they had in the first place.
When the universe gives you a lot, it's important to give a lot back, her mother had always said, and these were words Elisabet lived by.
"Faro Automated Solutions' stock fell sharply as a result of scathing accusations hurled at them by their former employee, Doctor Elisabet Sobeck," a reporter spoke on the news, standing in front of a large crowd of people gathered at the entrance to the FAS offices.
"Shame on you, F-A-S, shame on you, Fa-ro!" they chanted loudly as the reporter went on to explain the situation in more detail, and Elisabet stopped to watch the broadcast.
She decided her dubious fame was good for something at least, doubting that anyone would have listened to her or cared about her little rant enough to secretly record it and put it online had she not been a household name among her colleagues. A rant which was now being circulated in the news.
Elisabet didn't think the protests would make a difference, not a big one; people could boycott all they wanted, but they wouldn't be able to avoid using Faro's tech and services. At least not without sending themselves back to the Victorian era, because if Faro wasn't the one directly providing the tech and services, he owned the smaller companies doing it. He had successfully eliminated any notable competition either by buying it up or waiting out the smaller businesses that had eventually been left with no other option but to sell to Faro or go bankrupt.
Perhaps it is time someone began seriously competing with him, Elisabet mused.
She didn't have the kind of capital one would require to take Faro on in a straight competition, but that wasn't exactly what she needed to do; she would only need to provide a functioning alternative so that those who wanted to boycott FAS had options. Changing the minds of a few individual consumers wouldn't make all the difference, but there were governments and private companies all over the world buying services from him because he was their only choice. Moving them away from FAS would not go unnoticed.
Of course, with him moving on to produce military equipment, Elisabet didn't think anyone would be able to put a stop to his business ever, because if there was one thing that remained a constant fact in the ever-changing world, it was that war was the most profitable business if you were psychopathic enough to not care about the people who became casualties of war because of your greed.
She wasn't foolish enough to believe she had what it would take to put Faro out of business, but she could take over certain sectors, do even better work than he was doing, and do it for a fraction of the cost, ensuring that FAS's former clients could spend their funds on more important things.
Also, losing business to her would annoy Ted personally, and as petty as Elisabet knew it was of her, infuriating Ted was reason enough to do it. She hated bullies; changing the world for the better while kicking one where it hurt was at this point just an added bonus.
"...where it was decided that Faro Automated Solutions will be manufacturing and selling automated defense systems, which will cause unspeakable harm to people and the environment. Men like Ted Faro will rape the world for personal gain, and you are going to let them in the hopes of profiting from the spoils. You are no longer just closing your eyes from these facts; you are now complicit in the terror that will follow this decision you made out of greed. I'm ashamed to have ever been a part of this company," Elisabet heard herself say to the FAS board of directors in the recording on the news.
What wasn't on the news was what came after, namely, her walking out and Ted following her just to tell her that he was a good friend to have and a terrible enemy to make. It was a shame there was no recording of that, because Elisabet had greatly enjoyed the look of shock on his face when he'd realized she wasn't in the least intimidated by his threat. He had done that thing men like him always did; he'd stepped up to her, towering over her and staring her down, expecting her to back up, but she hadn't, and suddenly he'd had no idea what to do, he wasn't used to people standing up to him.
Instead, she'd leaned right back toward him and told him to do his worst, knowing full well that there wasn't really anything he could do even if he tried. There was something deeply satisfying about forcing a man who practically believed himself to be a god to accept that he did not have any power over her.
"If you were a man, I'd beat the shit out of you for what you said in there," he'd said, and Elisabet had laughed. Of course he'd defaulted to threats of violence, most men did when they ran out of actual arguments.
"If you were a man, I'd be worried."