Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
He is panting slightly when he finishes ranting, and he has turned a color that I can only describe as puce. In fact, I think the word puce might have been specifically designed for faces of angry rich men finding themselves slightly less rich than they were before.
“I’m afraid you don’t understand,” I say. “The currencies in which you have been trading are theoretical values of real goods, or were, but over time they became theoretical values of theoretical values, and that’s where they cease to functionally exist. You cannot be angry because something that never existed at all continued to not exist.”
He understands completely, of course. He has been a player in a big game of make-believe that he has become very adept at, and he is furious that our arrival has made the game obsolete.
Now he begins to threaten me.
“Listen, buddy. I have the power to decide what people down on Earth think about you. I control the opinions of the masses.” He leans in and lowers his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “You want me on your side. You want me to continue to enjoy the wealth I worked for.”
It is all I can do not to laugh in his face, but his little tirade is having a different effect on my new assistant.
Jessica leaps up from her seat and slaps Baz Sugar Snuff across the face, a hard whack with the flat of her small palm that leaves a hand-sized imprint on the man’s face.
He reels backwards in shock. I find myself watching as Jessica leaps on him, tackles him to the ground, and continues slapping him with an open palm, back and forth across the face.
The entire assault lasts about ten seconds before I reach down and haul her off the dazed billionaire.
“Piece of shit ruined my entire fucking neighborhood, poisoned the water, made it impossible to afford food, and made kids sick.”
Baz Sugar Snuff lies whimpering on the ground, clutching his hands to his face. He seems to have no will or energy to protect himself now.
“Arlo!” I call for backup.
Arlo appears.
“Escort Mr Snuff to the medical bay. He needs to be attended to.”
Mr Snuff scrambles to his feet. “You’re lucky I don’t hit women,” he whimpers. “I roll jujitsu every morning at four sharp. But you know what. I do sue women.”
“In what court, asshole? Space court? Good fucking luck. Doesn’t exist,” Jessica yells after him. She’s completely lost control in a display of temper that would probably be justification for dismissal if her entire hiring wasn’t happening without any justification besides my own interest.
I did instruct Arlo to hire several other candidates who were qualified for the position, so nobody missed out who should have had the opportunity. That was my way of assuaging my own guilt for acting in an unethical manner. The essential jobs will be done even as I concern myself with this human distraction.
I am beginning to wonder if I missed something in the interview process, something less than entirely delightful. Watching my human assistant take down a bulky billionaire is entertaining, but perhaps a little disturbing.
“What was that about?” I ask the question mildly.
Her shoulders are raised, her chin is lowered, her eyes are fiery with righteous anger. She looks absolutely adorable.
“That was a fraction of what that asshole deserves. Do you know how many people he’s gotten killed?”
“Just shy of a million. Nine hundred and eighty seven thousand, four hundred and forty two. So far.”
“So smacking him in the fucking face was pretty disproportionate. Should have thrown him out the airlock.”
She is a ferocious little thing, and I must admit she caught me completely off guard with that act. I was too busy paying attention to Mr Snuff to notice the anger rising behind me in Jessica.
I cannot allow that kind of free display of temper, however. There have to be some professional limits, though I can understand her thinking that there are none given our intense physical tryst earlier.
Jessica
“I have let you down,” he says. “I haven’t made it clear what I expect of you, and what I will not tolerate.”
“I’m not sorry for what I did. That guy is a fucking monster. He let a pipeline spew raw crude into an ocean for weeks, denied what he was doing, and left a third world nation to clean up sea birds as best they could. We tried to help and all we could do was knit wooly jumpers for fucking penguins, while the sea died,” I foam.
“Yes. I understand. The cruelty and disasters are legion,” I agree. “But you are my assistant. You represent me, and there is every chance you will come into contact with some of humanity’s most reprehensible people. You cannot lunge at them and slap them in the face every time.”
“Fine. I won’t.”