19. Shamballa

Trigger Warnings:

Shamballa, Asteroid 2679 WLX

The Singularity
September 26, 2847

“You called me here,” Evelyn Livingston-Baylies said, her delicate chin thrust proudly upward, her dark eyes burning with anger. “Well, here I am. What is it you want with me?”

Ogden Autenrieth-Fujita the Second regarded her from the embrace of his comfortable desk-chair. It had been designed to fit his body, specifically, contoured to support his posture and cradle him in the greatest possible comfort. The cushions were covered in genuine galuchat, harvested from vat-grown stingrays. He ran his fingers over the sanded-down and polished, almost pebble-like texture along the armrests, while he let the woman stew in her own fear. Behind him, a great armored window of layered, transparent aluminum oxynitride looked down on the floor of the Shamballa Casino, where crowds of people swirled from game to game, entertainment to entertainment.

Numerous symptoms of fear and anxiety detected, though she is trying to hide it, Egeria told him. The shackled AI’s voice manifested halfway between a whisper and a caress along the inside of his skull. He could have had her simply display the information he wanted through the artificial lenses surgically implanted in his eyes, but Ogden preferred the internal conversation. Her breathing is shallow, and her jaw is clenched so tight that she’s nearly grinding her teeth. She is sweating.

“What is it I want with you,” Ogden repeated, teasing the words out as he allowed himself to relish the woman’s suffering. It was ridiculous to imagine that he’d ever thrown himself at her in such a pathetic way—but he supposed that he needed to use a bit of mercy in judgement of his past self. After all, he’d been quite a bit younger then, and had far less of an understanding about how the universe worked.

She was still striking: that, he could freely admit. At twenty-seven, Evelyn was no longer quite so skinny or coltish as she had been when they’d both attended Eton’s campus on Wolf 1069. She’d lost some of the freshness, the feel of a flower just opened from the bud, that young women had, but she’d made up for it in the swell of her hips and chest beneath that elegantly-cut dress. Her breasts were certainly larger than he recalled. It was a pity, he admitted, that she’d likely given her body away to other men over the years. He would have preferred to teach her how to please him without having to go to the trouble of making her unlearn the tastes she’d acquired from lesser lovers. Still, there would be a certain pleasure in breaking her.

“What makes you think that I want anything?” Ogden asked, once he’d left her waiting long enough. The first thing to do, of course, was to show the proud Miss Livingston-Baylies her place. “I already have a controlling share of your family’s corporation, as of Tuesday morning. At the shareholders meeting this afternoon, I will have your father’s resignation from his position as chief executive. I’ve bought up your family’s personal debts. In short, Evelyn, I am already in possession of everything which was once yours. What more could I possibly want?”

He could actually see her jaw tremble—was it fury, or despair? How wonderful it would be, Ogden thought, if she actually lunged across his desk and struck him. The Autenrieth-Fujita

Security personnel waiting just outside his office were brutally trained, exorbitantly equipped with the latest combat wetware, and highly motivated to protect the brilliant young heir to the corporation. They should be: Ogden and his father made certain their families were well cared for, and their children groomed for positions of future responsibility within the company. He’d probably have to restrain them from splattering the beautiful Miss Livingston-Baylies’ brains across his walls.

“I can’t believe you’re actually as petty as all this,” Evelyn practically spat. “Yes, you’ve crushed my family. Congratulations. Livingston-Baylies Manufacturing was never in competition with you. Our annual net profit was less than half of Autenrieth-Fujita’s. We both know that my father never had a chance of fighting back, once you’d set your sights on us. But what I can’t believe is—is this really all because I turned you down once? It was ten years ago.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ogden shot back, leaning forward in his chair. “However much you prize what’s between your legs, Evelyn, there’s seven billion other women in the Singularity with a cunt just like it, and I’m spoiled for choice. No, your father had something I wanted. The fact that I could have the satisfaction of seeing the look on your face while I watch your world crumble was simply—killing two birds with one stone.”

Evelyn recoiled, though whether it was at his coarse language or the sentiment behind it, Ogden couldn’t be certain. But she was intelligent—he had to give her that, even though her family had come out the losers in this case. He could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she re-evaluated his motives.

“You want to be able to manufacture mechs at scale,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “Why? We haven’t been at war with the Imperium in sixty years. Who are you planning on fighting—the other mega-corps?”

“Peace is simply the interval between wars,” Ogden demurred. As if he would be tricked into giving the woman any information she could actually use against him. “Something will come up, sooner or later.”

“And war is simply the continuation of politics by other means,” Evelyn said, and either she couldn’t keep her lip from curling in disgust, or she was no longer bothering to conceal her true feelings.

“I’m surprised that the heiress to a fortune built on the back of a military-industrial complex would be so squeamish,” Ogden said. “Do you really have qualms about your family’s role as merchants of death? No, don’t answer that—I don’t care. I brought you here today, Evelyn, to offer you an agreement.”

“Here it comes,” she said, setting her shoulders as if to prepare herself to receive a punch. “Let’s have it then.”

“You have two options before you,” Ogden said, while Egeria made herself useful and spun up a list of properties, accounts, and outstanding loans. “The first is that I call in every loan your family owes. You’ll find that I own the bank which holds the mortgage on your ancestral estate in Amarok City, for instance, your own penthouse suite here on Shamballa, and even that little vacation island on Hyperborea which you spend so much of your time enjoying.” He shook his head. “It seems that peace has, in the case of your family, been rather bad for business.”

“In short, I lose everything,” Evelyn said.

“Succinctly put.” He smiled. “On the other hand, I have no particular interest in managing the day-to-day operations of Livingston-Baylies Manufacturing, so long as my personal projects assume priority and are handled competently. There’s no particular reason that your father cannot continue to manage the corporation for me; and, likewise, it costs me nothing to leave your debts uncollected and your properties in your hands.”

Evelyn Livingston-Baylies audibly ground her teeth; Ogden wondered what her dentist would say to her about the habit. “And what do I have to do to keep my family off the streets?” she asked.

“I find myself in need of a competent personal assistant,” he told her. “Someone to organize my schedule and help me to keep a handle on my day-to-day commitments. Someone who would work with me very closely. On a long enough timeline, I will need someone with sufficient quality genetic modifications to provide me with an heir or two.”

“I won’t be your whore,” Evelyn declared.

Ogden laughed. “My dear,” he said. “Whores are for the working classes. In polite society, we call them wives.” He saw the precise moment when the light in her eyes broke.