Sprawled out on the common room's couch, Philomena rubbed her forehead and massaged away the stress of dealing with all of these idiots. I need a Galactic Swirlie, she thought. Her dried-out throat begged to feel the sugary, chilly slush slide down to her stomach, leaving a pleasant, crisp, numb cool to flow out from wherever it touched. And a hot hunk to hold it, of course. I'll relax in my pool chair, and he'll stand over me, holding my cocktail right next to his … Ooh, maybe get him to pour it all over his chest. Then I'll lick it all off his bulging pecs! Mmmm, yeah!
But before that happened …
While Philomena was, of course, stunningly beautiful, she was not some kind of unionizer who demanded other people give her things for nothing. She had to prove she was a great executive first, and to do that, she needed wealth to flaunt.
But her dumb employees were making it so hard. They ignored her, mocked her, treated her like a joke, threatened to kill her with their stupid decisions. Why couldn't they just see how much of a genius she was, and fall to their knees worshiping her business sense?
The door to the hub slid open.
She raised her head and stared past the couch's armrest. Ramirex shuffled into the common room. Both her hands cupped the bottom of the helmet she'd been told to clean. She moved carefully, like it was a precious offering filled with liquid and she didn't want to spill a drop. She stood over the couch. Annoyed, Philomena realized the tiny woman was in the same position as the imaginary hunk holding her cocktail.
"Um, I cleaned it," Ramirex whispered, in awe of her genius.
Philomena wasn't very fond of women her own age. Executives had to be experts at seeing through other peoples' lies to keep them from slacking off, and Philomena was an amazing executive. As much as those thieves denied it, every time she encountered another woman her own age she instantly picked up that vibe. That the backstabber in front of her would rush in and steal Philomena's hunks the first chance she got. Philomena wasn't scared, obviously. She was one of the prettiest women in the galaxy. Of course her hunks would stay loyal to her and her incredible success. But it was annoying to deal with, and she didn't want to. Some people said that was called 'being catty'. Why not be catty? Lionesses were cats, and they defended what was theirs with maximum viciousness. That was why they're the queens of the jungle.
She didn't mind Ramirex that much, though. As a lesbian, she wasn't a threat to Philomena's hunks. And she was as dumb as the other two, but at least she treated her boss with the awe and respect she deserved. Well, most of the time, Philomena thought, remembering Ramirex's little outbursts of attitude during Darrd's inspection.
"Tell me I'm a great executive," Philomena said.
Eyes lighting up, Ramirex said, "You're the best, Philomena!"
"See? Was that so hard?!"
"No! No, it wasn't!"
Sighing, Philomena went limp on the couch. "All I want to do is raise pruck-tivity, and those two morons just don't listen."
"Huh? 'Pruck-tivity'?"
"You know, when you raise it, and … and business gets better. You know!"
Philomena wanted to give the tiny woman a piece of her hard-earned wisdom, but it was hard to whittle a topic so huge down to the level an idiot like Ramirex could grasp. Most of the time, it was just something you felt in your gut. Something your incredible business senses guided you towards.
"Do you mean productivity?" Ramirex asked.
Philomena threw her hand up and waved it around while rolling her eyes at the wall behind the couch. "I don't know what they call it on Arcelona, but in the world of business we call it pruck-tivity."
"I … see. Wh-Where did you learn that word, exactly …?"
"It's something we executives pick up …" She continued flapping her hand in the air. "… in our lives."
"Oh."
Philomena peered into the helmet and took a whiff. It smelled like soap and it looked clean, so she took her hand and swept it toward the door.
"You can go now. Put the helmet in the locker room."
"You got it, Philomena."
Carefully carrying the helmet like it was the most precious thing in the galaxy, Ramirex left Philomena alone in the common room. After she'd left, Philomena relaxed her head on the couch. Her eyes drifted across the ceiling, and they ended up staring out the narrow window that wrapped around the ship's stern. The stars twinkled so high above them, glimmering like all the jewels and gemstones she hoped to find on this rogue planet …
'Your brother raised productivity by 12%.'
The familiar voice came from her memories, yet weirdly enough it also seemed to be whispering from the giant crater next to the ship. Seeping up from the infinite darkness to haunt her, like something lost in a vast sea rising to the surface. She quickly sat up, a shiver worming under her skin and chilling her bones.
Thanks a lot, Ramirex! Now you've even got my memories saying it wrong!
She glanced over her shoulder at the stars again. In orbit around all those points of light, there were so many planets and space stations making money all across the galaxy. And one day … they would all belong to Philomena, she was sure of it. Mining this world, and all the other rogue planets one like it, was the key to becoming the best executive in the whole galaxy.
And those idiots think I don't know anything about running a mining business, she thought.
I know all about mining!
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Pickaxe in hand, Philomena trotted into the deep cave. She went right past all the stone. It was ugly and drab and she didn't care about that stuff one bit. Rounding a corner, she entered a cavern with lava rivers. No, what she cared about was …
Aha! she thought.
Gold! Gems! Jewels! Just sitting there in the cave!
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
She rushed forward, pickaxe at the ready. Chipped away at the ugly rocks to get the shiny stuff out. They needed to be free, to sparkle. She focused on mining so hard she barely realized her tongue was stuck sideways out of her pressed-together lips.
"Philomena?"
Raising her head, she asked, "Huh?"
A man in a lab coat stood in the doorway. But then she heard a splash and a sizzle from the tablet in her hands. She looked back down and saw her character had fallen into a lava river and died. The stuff she'd mined floated away on the orange liquid.
Aw, my gems! she thought.
Her face stretched out in a pout. She looked up at the man in the lab coat again. He watched her carefully.
"We're ready for you," he said.
He stepped aside and held the door open for her.
The chair was meant for grown-ups. Philomena's legs weren't long enough to reach the floor yet. She pushed herself across the seat until she slid off the edge. With her feet stuck out, the thump when she hit the floor didn't hurt too bad. She jumped right back up and hurried to the door, clutching the tablet tightly in her fist.
The man led her through the hallways to a big, empty room with two padded mats on the floor. Video cameras on tripods were pointed at the mats, and more people in lab coats stood behind the cameras taking notes on tablets.
"Hello, Philomena."
Her brother stood next to one mat. He was younger and shorter than her, but he always seemed so calm and sure of himself. He was like a little grown-up. It was kind of weird.
"Hi, Apollo," she said.
His eyes went to the tablet in her fist. Quietly, he said, "You should put that away.
"Why?"
He stared right into her eyes. "It's a test. You can't cheat on a test."
"Hmph," she said.
She stuffed the tablet into her pocket anyway.
A woman in a lab coat pushed a cart with a big plastic box over to them. Then, joining them, she stooped down so she didn't seem so tall. She smiled when she talked to them.
"Philomena. Apollo. We're going to do a little test, okay?"
"What do we do?" Philomena asked.
The woman smiled at her and started to say something, but before she could, Apollo spoke up.
"What are you testing for?"
His words made her pause. Her smile slipped, like a mask falling off and showing her nervous face underneath.
"We want you to build us a city."
She pointed to the box on the cart. Philomena and Apollo went over and peered inside. It was full of blocks. Black, gray, white.
"How do we build a city?" Philomena asked.
Smiling, the woman said, "However you want."
"That's the test," Apollo said. "They're testing our in—" For once in his short life, he seemed stuck. He frowned as his little lips worked through the words. "In—"
Philomena's cheeks tensed up as she tried to hide a smile. Her oh-so-perfect little brother almost never stumbled over anything, and seeing it made her very happy indeed.
Then Apollo turned to the woman in the lab coat. "'Intuition'?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's right, Apollo. 'Intuition'."
Philomena's joy went away like a winter wind blowing every shaky leaf off a tree at once.
"Hey," she said. "I have in-two-it-town too!"
The woman smiled, but it still looked like a fake mask. "Everybody has intuitions, Philomena."
Then annoying Apollo butted in. "But you want to see how good ours are."
"Ahh … let's not think of it like that, okay? We just want to see what you come up with, alright?"
Apollo stared at the woman, then he said, "Alright."
"Okay," Philomena added.
The woman made them stand in front of the mats where the cameras could see them. Philomena took the lefthand mat, so Apollo took the righthand one. The woman in the lab coat and Apollo both stood up straight as they faced the lenses. Once Philomena noticed that, she stood up straight too. But it was annoying, and she couldn't stop her body from slowly slumping.
To the cameras, the woman said, "In this test, Philomena, age 4, and Apollo, age 2, have been instructed to build a model city out of monochrome blocks, following the standardized Bentu Hoopdou model of mental development." She turned around and looked at them. "You may begin."
The people behind the cameras watched them and took notes. She watched them right back, until she got a fright when her brother grabbing an armful of blocks from the box. I'm not gonna be left behind! she thought. As soon as there was an inch of space, she shot into it and scooped an armful of blocks out too. No, two armfuls! It didn't matter if she couldn't see where she was going, or that a few blocks tumbled off the top and nearly tripped her. Philomena was older than Apollo, and she was going to prove it.
I'm gonna build the best city in the whole galaxy!
A half-hour later, her city looked so nice. The people in lab coats circled the room, gazing in awe at what she made and taking notes on their tablets. Two of them whispered to each other. They were so far away they probably didn't realize she could hear them.
"Orderly, grid-based layout. Consistent architecture. Efficient clustering. Flawless road planning."
Philomena's heart swelled. Sure, she didn't know what any of that meant, but it sounded like praise. They saw how smart she was.
I love praise! Give me more!
Then, one whispered, "Now, his sister, on the other hand …"
"Yeah …"
Philomena's heart dropped like she was on a spaceship going down to a planet. Her smile turned into a frown. Annoyed, she glanced at her brother's city. It was as boring as he was. The buildings and roads were all in neat lines. White blocks used as windows, gray blocks used as metal, black blocks used as roads. Her city, on the other hand … Sure, the buildings were so tall they teetered. And they mixed colors with no real plan. And the roads were a little crooked, because she forgot to put them down for ten minutes and had to fit them into the gaps.
But …
She'd followed her heart!
And it was such a beautiful city, because she built it with her own two hands.
She stood on tip-toe and stretched her arm up to put the last block on top of a very tall building.
"Seems like she's overreaching," the man in the lab coat whispered to the other one.
Of course I'm overreaching! she thought bitterly. I'm not old enough to reach it normally yet!
Behind the man's voice, a more familiar one spoke up and made him gasp with fright.
"Is that your professional opinion?"
Philomena's heart skipped a beat. She looked over her shoulder at the two men in lab coats. Startled, they were both twisted around to look at the woman standing behind them. She was tall, bold, and a little bit scary. Her hair was the same red color as Philomena's, but cut into a bob. Hands on hips, she frowned at the men in lab coats and made them shake.
"S-Sorry, ma'am."
Philomena also shook, but from happiness.
"Mother!" she cried. "Mother, look what I made—!"
She spun around to show off her dazzling city to her mother, but her toe snagged a loose block. Suddenly, her foot didn't touch the floor anymore. It flew up in the air. She tilted forward and the world tilted backward.
This isn't even a space station, how come gravity is broken—?
Then she crashed down in the middle of her city. The tall, pretty buildings tumbled down. She threw her hands out to grab hold of something, but that just knocked more things down. The floor sped up and smacked her face and chest. Groaning, she went limp. A million blocks fell on her like frozen rain and poked her with their sharp corners. The ones that didn't hit her hit the mat. The clap of falling blocks echoed all over the spacy room. It seemed to go on and on forever, but when it petered out the silence was just as bad.
Cheeks burning, she raised her head.
Everybody stared at her. Nobody said anything, but they cringed so hard.
One final block fell off a teetering tower and thumped her square on the head. She grimaced, her eyes squeezed shut, as a fuzziness went all through her skull and made her dizzy.
Her mother scowled at the floor and rubbed her forehead. Then, she broke the silence by saying loudly, "Intensify Philomena's learning program." After that, she turned sharply and strode out of the room. Her footsteps echoed as loudly as the tumbling blocks did.
Philomena thought, Mother …!
Lying in her ruined buildings, she shot a dirty look at Apollo. He stood in the middle of his neat, boring, totally-intact city. It made her so mad.
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Philomena glared daggers at the starry sky through the common room's window. Somewhere out there, in the dozens of star systems her dynasty did business with, Apollo was being taught how to run her mining empire. It belongs to me! I'm the firstborn, not him! But it wouldn't be long now before she proved that she deserved to be the heiress, not annoying Apollo. Once Philomena became the most successful businesswoman in galactic history all by herself, then her mother would be forced to admit the truth.
I'll prove it to you, mother. Once and for all!