Sangsum

Sangsum glanced down at his plate of untouched food like how one would tolerate an annoying puppy gnawing at one's heel. In fact, he would rather have had it that he was not here at all—the clattering of dishes and silverware of the patrons around him, the soft drone of live jazz music wafting from across the dining hall, the kerfuffle of clothing as waiters hurried to and fro to satisfy their customers’ demands—all of it served to further irritate his already apprehensive mood. He noted the musicians in the corner with particular distaste. Muted atmospheric played from speakers would have sufficiently served—musicians absent a volume panel only added to the racket. Sangsum never understood the lust for legacy as a symbol of luxury. He had always preferred the convenience of technology.

That, then, was another way in which he and his father differed greatly.

He stole an upward glimpse at the two women seated across from him. One was the embodiment of the trendy and the modern, complete with her raven-black hair streaked in pink and purple, her deep violet eyes pulsing from the effects of cosmetic cybernetics. Her skin had been grafted and smoothed to perfection to the extent that not even the most unblemished marble surface could hope to rival. Her extravagant and form-fitting dress, meant to flatter its wearer, was rather complimented in turn by the curves of her form. She was a beauty, to be sure.

The other girl at her side was a beauty of a different kind, with the character to match. Whereas the former shone of the madness and delights of the neon city, this one exuded the kind and the comforting, akin to the peaceful serenity of a mountainous countryside. Her cinnamon-colored hair tumbled in waves past her shoulders, and the deep cerulean of her eyes was like the waters of the brightest, sunlit lake.

Sangsum would have had it that the latter be pleased with the extravagant fare laid out before her; instead, she was reduced, the dim haze of sorrow ever-present in her eyes. It was this which enraged Sangsum greatest—not the sort of anger that is fiery and wrathful, but the slow burn of hot coals that gnaws at a man until it drives him mad.

“So, ladies,” Sangsum managed to say, despite the roiling uneasiness occupying his thoughts. “How’s the food?”

It was the first girl who spoke, vexing Sangsum ever the more.

“It’s wonderful, Mr. Gato. How did you manage to get a reservation at this place so quickly, on such short notice?”

Sangsum let the question roll past him unheeded. “And you, Heyla? What do you think?”

The second girl lifted her eyes as if in apology. “It’s good. Thank you, Sangsum.”

It took great force of will for Sangsum to hold his gaze at her face, without the slightest flicker of his eyes to her plate, where he knew her food sat as untouched as his own.

The first girl, not one to be easily ignored, spoke once more. “So, Mr. Gato, can we get down to discussing business?” She idly lifted a finger to tap on her temple to activate the view within her cybernetic eyes. “I’m sure you’re a busy guy yourself. Your lawyers mentioned that you have other business right after our appointment.”

Another way his father had impeded on his life. Sangsum swallowed his indignance. He had hoped to spend a fair part of the evening in the company of these two—or rather, Heyla’s. One day, one day, he would serve his father his comeuppance.

“Right,” Sangsum said, clearing his throat. “Ms. Norix, the Shampai Group has been making recent forays into…property acquisition and development. We have also partnered with the B.Ridge Corporation to jointly manufacture a luxury hovercar.”

Shalla Norix nodded. “Yes?”

“Well, we at Shampai require a well-known personality to represent our future products. This someone should be one who connects with the younger affluent, the segment of the population who are wealthy and savvy and who have no reservations about trying out the newest products and technologies on the market.

“As the first social media personality to reach a billion followers, we would be absolutely delighted if you could be the spokesperson for our upcoming products and services. I speak on behalf of both B.Ridge and Shampai, of course. Our two corporations are investing in all endeavors in equal amounts. As such, our budget is twofold in all aspects of the business: marketing costs, research and development, distribution…”

Shalla Norix’s eyes glittered in expectation.

Sangsum fought the grimace tearing at his mask of calm.

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“…Compensation.”

Shalla set her mouth tightly and tapped her lips with an index finger in a show of deep thought. Sangsum did not fail to catch the smile wriggling on her lips before she brought it under control. These inner-city affluents were all the same, Sangsum thought with scorn. Grasping with their grubby hands to attempt a climb of the social ladder. At best they would serve as corporate lapdogs, highly paid servants with a fancy title beside their name to distract them from the reality of their true condition. When these types had outlived their usefulness, they would be shelved as all expired goods are, where they would then scurry to the nearest island paradise and convince themselves they had lived a life of impact before the bitterness of middle age sets in.

“I would have to speak to my agent,” Shalla claimed disingenuously. “Of course, our legal teams can work out the specifics.”

“There is another point I should bring up,” Sangsum said. He twirled the wine in his glass. “But I’m afraid we would have to head to my airShip for that.”

“airShip?” Shalla squeaked. She shook Heyla’s shoulder; the latter turned as if woken from a trance. “You have time for that?”

“For what?” Heyla asked.

Shalla expelled a short sigh of exasperation. “Mr. Gato would like for us to accompany him to his airShip.” She turned back to Sangsum. “Why, if I may ask?”

“Of course,” Sangsum said. “We have a new product offering, but it would be easier shown than explained.”

Heyla nodded absently, and Shalla could scarcely contain her glee.

With over three quarters of the meal left untouched, Sangsum paid for the bill as one of his bodyguards escorted the two women out to the landing bay. An entire night with Heyla, and not ten words uttered between them. Sangsum could hardly keep the scorn out of his broody step as he skulked towards the platform.

The Gato family airShip floated just beside the platform as the ramp unfurled from its side like a steel ribbon. The cylindrical-shaped flightCraft was of an older model, unlike the crafts of more modern design, consisting of various platforms and open rooftops. Several patrons of the restaurant turned to observe who might be boarding the airShip. Sangsum felt the heat bloom in his face as he imagined weighty eyes judging the age of the craft, and his step grew inadvertently quicker, much to his own chagrin.

Shalla Norix and Heyla stood at the foot of the ramp, waiting for him.

“We of the Gato admire heritage and legacy,” Sangsum quickly explained. “Vintage is the new luxury.” He ushered in his guests, and even as the steel ramp folded, he began to believe his back was burning from the taunting gazes of other, wealthier patrons.

Shalla’s incessant admiration for the craft eventually sated the greater part of his embarrassment, and soon he was chuckling alongside her, vintage whiskey in hand.

“So, Mr. Gato,” Shalla said, lounging into a divan. “What is it you would like to show us?”

Sangsum stood and beckoned to his guests, both of whom stood to follow him. He led them through the cavernous halls and lounge areas of paneled and varnished darkwood, decorated with hanging chandeliers and spaced by columns of malachite and tourmaline. Golden engravings breathed life into the wooden walls, and each room they walked through drew a reaction from Shalla as if she alone had been privileged with the viewing of some celestial revelation.

By the time they reached the technology room, Sangsum sauntered in the same manner as his older self, as if all the world were his claim.

He gestured to a glass tube at the end of the brightly lit room.

“What is that?” Shalla asked in amazement. Heyla trailed without a word, either unimpressed or uninterested. Her manner only served to fuel his anger and pour oil into the fires of his boastful arrogance.

Sangsum motioned grandly at the humanoid figure of titanium and polycarbonate encased within the glass. “This, is the future. Shampai, together with B.Ridge, have worked ceaselessly so that humankind might take the next step forward.”

Shalla brushed her fingers along the glass with one hand, sipping at a glass of champagne with the other. “What does it do?”

“That will be revealed in a week’s time, at the technology expo in Andaka TechCenter,” Sangsum explained proudly. He waited for Shalla to ask the next, inevitable question.

“Why are you showing me this?”

Sangsum gave her the most convincing grin he could conjure. “With your permission, Shalla, Shampai and B.Ridge would like to use your likeness on our very first prototype of this technology. You would not only be compensated accordingly—you would become a part of history in the making, Shalla Norix.”

Shalla’s eyes gleamed with unabated excitement.

“I…I would like that,” she muttered, either unable to lift her voice past the bounds of awe, or unwilling to shatter the wonder of the moment. Even Heyla gazed with an amazed suspicion at the object which stood before her.

Unfortunately, the jolting sound of the opening door brought them crashing back to reality.

“Mr. Gato,” Sangsum’s bodyguard said, halting at the entrance.

“Excuse me ladies,” Sangsum said as he stepped towards the door. “What is it?” he asked with more vexation than he had intended.

“My apologies, Mr. Gato. It is time for your next appointment.”

Sangsum sighed. “Where do we meet him?”

The bodyguard drew nearer to whisper in Sangsum’s ear. “Our men have just escorted him into the airShip. He is in your study now, waiting. He says he has something urgent to tell you.”

Sangsum gave a curt nod. “Escort the two ladies out, if you would. And offer my sincerest apologies at cutting our meeting short.”

Nothing good ever lasted in Sangsum’s life. With a sigh, he straightened his coat. It was time to meet with this researcher introduced him by the executives at B.Ridge Corporation. When he turned to say farewell to his guests, they insisted they remain, until he was finished with his engagement. Shalla was more enthusiastic in this regard, Heyla as reduced and demure as she had been the whole evening.

Sangsum's spirits were high when he strode into his office. A thin man with disheveled, black hair sat slouched within his chair. He turned timidly when Sangsum closed the door, pushing his techSpects up onto a beak of a nose as he observed the heir to Shampai Group.

"Mr. Gato," the wiry man stammered, standing as he extended a hand. "A pleasure."

"And you must be Tenzo," Sangsum said with a wry smile. "A pleasure. Now. What do you have for me?”