[Darius]

Sipping expensive coffee from an ornate porcelain cup, I gazed out the wide picture window from my office atop the Omni tower. Far below, people scurried about the plaza like ants, living out their insignificant, hum-drum lives. Such was the destiny of most, to toil and achieve some artificially virtuous standard.

Power was the only true virtue.

I worked hard and shrewdly to obtain my executive position — Vice President and Research Director of Omni-Corp — but I had even higher aspirations. You only got what you took.

Beyond the paved plaza, spiked metal fences protected the ornate formal gardens that adorned the rolling hills leading to the churning sea shore. Open space was rare on this crowded world, mostly reserved for the Elite. Like me.

Otherwise, a pleasant, sunny day, dark, ominous clouds lined the western horizon. The storms on this world, born on warm seas, were infamously fierce. Perhaps that was why the people rushed around below. I grinned, since one advantage of wealth was that it insulated me from the storms, whether meteorological or societal.

"They are ready for you, sir," said a female voice over the com.

"Let's get this over with," I mumbled to myself while strolling to a central open area. The vast office size and lavish appointments, including an antique wooden desk, were perks of my prominent position. After straightening my black suit coat, made of the finest textiles, and standing tall, I said, "Activate."

A ring of nine shimmering holographic people appeared, seated in a circle of high-backed chairs around me. Each one was a member of the Omni-Corp Board of Directors and represented the most powerful families in the Sol Federation. It was cut-throat competition at the top — occasionally, literally.

But they all scowled at me with ungrateful eyes.

"Esteemed members of the board," I said with a bow, "how may I be of service?" Actually, I did not esteem them at all, but I didn't become the Chief Research Officer without some discretion.

An elderly woman with crossed arms and narrowed eyes didn't buy my gracious greeting for an instant. "Darius, shall we dispense with the niceties and get down to the matter at hand?"

"That would be more efficient, Anna."

A sneer formed on her lips, reacting to my presumption of familiarity. And she hated being called Anna, demanding the more aristocratic-sounding actual first name, Anastasia. So much for discretion... A holographic gray-haired man to her left chuckled, drawing her ire for a moment.

"Dr. Darius Sigmund Welde," she began, hissed out my full name, "progress on Project Asclepius has been disappointing. What have you to say?"

"I believe you have my report, Director Anastasia Juliet Whitehall?"

A cold smile rose on her stony face. "Creative writing at its finest, Dr. Welde. But you did not provide a schedule forward. Certain public promises were made, and to fail them puts Omni-Corp in unfavorable light."

"It is called research and development for a reason, Ms. Whitehall. Science does not bend to the arbitrary schedules of marketers. I would have thought an honored member of the Omni-Corp Board would understand such a basic concept."

Snarling, she jumped up from her chair and pointed a bony finger at me. "Enough of this insolence! If you cannot deliver, then--"

"Sit down, Anastasia," said a balding man with a narrow chin and prominent forehead, speaking in an even voice. Augustus Windsor, the Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer, was perhaps the only one here that could get that insufferable witch to shut up.

With a restraint that surprised even me, I held my tongue.

The Chairman took a deep breath, then focused on me. "Dr. Welde, considerable resources are being expended on Project Asclepius, for which we expect a return. The results of the first trial were, shall we say, discouraging?"

"Actually, Chairman Windsor, the trial was quite successful," I explained, putting a hand to my chin. "The test determined the nano-bots operating limits. Based on the results, a second trial has just begun." Unfortunately, many test subjects died in the test. But fortunately, they had all signed documents protecting Omni-Corp from legal responsibility.

"And how confident are you of this trial?"

I firmed my stance and lifted my chin. "Confident enough that I am part of it. The nano-bots work within my body as we speak."

How was that for skin in the game? I restrained my face from displaying a mocking grin.

After a moment of stunned silence, the Chairman lifted an eyebrow. "Interesting, Dr. Welde."

Turning around, I addressed the entire board. "Members of the Board, consider the enormous profit potential. Project Asclepius extends medical nano-bot technology beyond specific ailment treatment to optimization of general health and longevity. What is more valuable? People would pay anything to obtain it."

I didn't tell them of the potential mind-altering aspects of Asclepius, which had even greater profit potential. Properly leveraged at my control, it would make me CEO.

My harshest critic huffed. "We've heard this all before, Dr. Welde. But I have doubts you are up to the technical challenge."

"Enough, Anastasia," the Chairman said, then his eyes bored into mine. "Dr. Welde, we expect regular progress reports. That will be all." The holographic images abruptly vanished.

"Arrogant fools, idiots!" I spat to the empty room as suppressed hot anger rose from my gut. They would come to regret their intransigence.

Mumbling curses under my breath, I walked to a glass side table by the picture window, then poured expensive brandy from a crystal decanter into a snifter, downing it in one gulp. Dropping into a leather, high-back desk chair, I willed my heart to slow.

The research team had already demonstrated the mind-altering potential of the nano-bots, but control was the issue. The bots had to carefully network to achieve the desired effect — too little, and they would be ineffective, but too much and the carrier becomes a mindless zombie, and useless. In extreme cases, the test subjects died. But mostly, it was a coding issue that will eventually be solved.

Among those on the research teams, I touted Project Asclepius as benefiting humanity, and it will. The technology did not mind control per se, but by carefully altering emotions and mental associations, we might end the strife and conflict that had always afflicted humankind, and create a more harmonious order. Aside from that, the potential for marketing was astronomical. The populace might easily be swayed toward selected products or chosen political positions. And then there were the military applications, perhaps to create perfect soldiers.

But, of course, the technology would require a select group of Elites, especially me, to guide its application.

A high-pitched beep from a secure com interrupted my thoughts. My gut twisted when the com-viewer listed the caller. "What do you want, Phoenix?"

"Is that anyway to greet your benefactor, Dr. Welde? You handled the Board well."

Jerking up straight, my eyes widened. "How did...? Are you--"

"I am not one of the Board members, I assure you, Dr. Welde, but I have my ways to eavesdrop. Nonetheless, I share their impatience, and my disappointment has much more serious consequences for you than the Board's."

A chill traced my neck. Phoenix, whoever this person was, had enough evidence to earn me an extended prison stay, or worse. "We are doing everything we can, but there are certain technology barriers."

"Then lean on your research team. They will respond to threats. Like you." Phoenix's synthesized voice softened. "But I truly wish the best for you, Dr. Welde. With my help, you will become the leader of the greatest corporation ever. Even the Sol Federation Parliament will defer to you. Then together, we will accomplish great things for all humanity. Is there anything you need from me?"

"Well, there is one Director--"

"Yes — Anastasia Whitehall. I will handle her, Dr. Welde. She will no longer be a barrier to success."

"How will you do that?"

"That is not your concern, Dr. Welde."

The last barrier that Phoenix handled died in a starship explosion. Before that, certain vivid details of sexual deviancy became public of another uncooperative director, forcing him to resign in disgrace. Phoenix played the hardest of hardball. But greatness sometimes required decisive action — best not to think about it. "Very well. Is there anything else?"

After a silent moment, Phoenix answered. "There is one thing... It concerns your nephew."

"Zachary?" Now, what did he do? He had always been a disrespectful pain in the arse.

"Yes. Working as a Bounty Hunter, he captured a certain Aberrant named Avia — quite an accomplishment considering her skills. But then she abruptly escaped captivity and your nephew disappeared."

"Do you think he colluded with her?" I asked.

"A reasonable supposition. I want you to utilize corporate resources to find them. I will forward Avia's physical and biometric details to you."

"But..." That boy was an embarrassment, but still family.

Phoenix anticipated my objection. "I have no interest in your nephew, nor wish him harm. I only want Avia, and I want her alive."