Donald Urkish the Fifth strode confidently into the room of tears. His joints cracked and groaned as he bowed low before Pope Antiochus, who sat on his throne, leaning heavily on the right armrest.
The Pope’s arms were wrapped in layers of metal. Bands of tiny mechanical limbs surrounded the fatty flesh of his forearms, each tipped with a needle. Rhythmically, the mechanized arms folded in and out, like long hands flexing their fingers, injecting a strange white liquid into the Pope’s arms. The syringes were fed the milky substance from long, clear tubes that were bundled together at his shoulder, and ran up to the ceiling in a disorganized tangle.
Donald was unfamiliar with this particular treatment, but had no doubts that the aging Pontiff was as obsessed with the genetically engineered pursuit of immortality as most of the power players in the Alliance. As their bodies began to disintegrate with age, the wealthy surrendered to more painful and experimental treatments to wring every last bit of living from their twisted carcasses.
Anoko watched him silently from the shadows, its bent form leaning against the wall as it wheezed and tried in vain to suppress a ragged cough.
“To what do I owe the honor of a summons to your most holy of chambers?” Donald said, rather proud of how well he disguised the contempt in his voice.
“Your most recent actions have not escaped the eternal gaze of the Five,” the Pope said, his many chins waggling as he spoke.
“I’m not sure I follow,” Donald feigned innocence.
The Pope’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits.
“Tell me, Donald, did your father ever tell you any tales from the Corporate Wars when you were a child?”
Donald smirked. “Of course. I grew up listening to his stories.”
“Then I’m sure you are familiar with the story of Shomron Zemyna, who led a bloody campaign against the board of directors of Omnicorp, murdering those who opposed his placement as CEO.”
“Yes. I doubt there are any power brokers who aren’t familiar with the Campaigns of Shomron.”
“But did you know that his bloody war did not stop there?”
Donald shook his head no. It was a lie of course; he was intimately familiar with the corporate wars, and had reviewed the archives and history surrounding the legendary CEO many times over the years.
“He made the same moves at Advanced Logistics only six months later, ensuring his good friend Negun Rohini took the seat of power. He began a third campaign against Microtech, with the eventual plan of overthrowing all five of the Mega Corporations, and uniting them under his rule.”
Donald feigned surprise. “How ambitious.”
“Indeed. Of course, this would have meant the execution of your father. Your bloodline has been CEO of Genematics for five generations now. The only way to break that chain would be through the untimely demise of your father, before you were prepared to take over for him.”
Donald nodded his head, his mind focused on where this was all leading. How much did they know?
“The Corporate Wars lasted for nearly twenty years,” the Pope continued. “In the absence of an external enemy, internal conflict was inevitable. Healthy even.”
The Pope leaned his considerable girth forward, his throne groaned in protest under his weight.
“But in a time of war, we have no use for such foolishness.”
Donald Urkish bowed again, his joints screaming in agony. He gritted his teeth. Now was a time for humility.
“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”
“We know you facilitated the purchase of the mining rights from Aeon Chemical.”
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Donald nodded his head. “Of course, I make no secret of my business dealings. Merodek was careless, and I saw an opportunity.”
“Perhaps,” the Pope sneered. “But you also helped negotiate the sale to Daytech Mechanics, precisely timed with the military intervention by Aeon Chemical to retake their mining facility.”
“A coincidence, I assure you.”
“Please. Let us not insult one another by pretending that men of our stature believe in such a thing as coincidence. Coincidence is the word used by those who cannot see the levers and pulleys.”
Donald straightened up, his back cracking like dusty dice clattering to the floor.
“Your Holiness,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I was simply negotiating the best deal possible. It is true, I anticipated a minor skirmish between Daytech Mechanics and Aeon Chemical, but nothing on the scale of what occurred. My goal was simple, to strain the relationship between the two companies so that Star Systems, a Genematics subsidiary, could underbid their transport contract.”
The Pope watched him shrewdly. His arms twitched as the injections continued, the syringes now filled with a dark green liquid, which oozed from the tiny pin pricks on his swollen flesh, mingling with the milk and blood that trickled down his arm in tiny rivulets and dripped from his fingers into metal buckets that had been placed to collect the discharge. The smell was unpleasant and powerful, not unlike a festering wound in desperate need of cleaning.
“The Five have been watching you closely for some time now.”
Donald nodded his head. “I can only assume they watch us all.”
“Indeed, they do. But they have taken a particular interest in your activities of late.”
“I am honored.”
“Don’t be. This is not the kind of interest one wishes to garner, should they desire a long and productive life.”
“I have always pursued the Yassa with the utmost devotion and vigor. The pursuit of mankind’s own rational self-interest is the highest moral purpose of his life. My actions always have been, and always will be, motivated by pure devotion to the ideals of the Five.”
“So you say.”
“I have found that living the Yassa is a more difficult task than simply teaching from it.”
The Pope slammed his fist down, rattling the strange device that was attached to it, sloshing blood and milk across the floor, which Donald stepped back to avoid.
“Do not presume to lecture me on the Yassa!” the Pope shouted, his face twisted in rage. “You, a pathetic man of no importance. A CEO for a minor corporation who will be forgotten the day he is buried. I speak the will of the Five!”
Donald bit the inside of his lip, holding back his bitter words. His mind raced as the Pope was added to the list of targets he had spent more than a lifetime compiling. Enemies who he would see brought to their knees before this body gave out and collapsed to dust. It was becoming a long list.
“Of course, your Holiness,” he said, bowing his head. “I meant no offense. I was simply trying to state that the application of the Yassa is a great struggle, and if I have failed, I welcome wisdom and correction.”
The Pope’s face relaxed as he slumped back into his chair, seemingly placated by Donald’s gilded tongue.
“Then see to it you do nothing else to provoke war between the Mega Corporations. The Five have decreed that there is to be no open conflict until the Azrael have been conquered.”
“Of course, as you command.”
“Furthermore, you are to-“
The Pope’s voice trailed off as his expression glazed over. His eyes lulled dangerously in his skull, his eyelids fluttered as his mouth went slack.
Donald watched him, puzzled, as the Pope’s jaw stretched open at a queer angle, the muscles pulled beyond their capacity. Only the white of his eyes were visible as a thick, guttural voice issued from deep within his throat.
“We are displeased, Donald Urkish.”
A shudder of revulsion ran up Donald’s spine. He had never heard the physical voice of the Five, but he had heard stories. The legends did not do justice to the horror.
Donald watched as Anoko prostrated itself on the ground. He had forgotten the sickly little creature was even there, as it whimpered and cowered.
“I beg your forgiveness,” Donald whispered, his face bowed, avoiding the distorted face that spoke without moving. The air in the room seemed to thicken at their presence, as if an oppressive weight pushed down on his deteriorating frame.
“Another war is unacceptable to us,” the low voice hissed from the gapping mouth of its meat puppet.
“Of course, as you wish.”
“Tell us, Donald Urkish, why are so many of your offices located within dark zones?”
“We disconnected several of our highly sensitive research facilities from the neural net to prevent corporate espionage,” he said, his face still pointed at the ground.
The Pope’s throat gurgled. A trickle of blood slid out of his left nostril and down his lip, the right nostril soon joined it.
“You have been warned, Donald Urkish,” the voice said, each word causing Donald to flinch and recoil. “Go now, and do as we command.”
The Five released their hold on Pope Antiochus, who collapsed into an unconscious pile on his throne. Anoko rushed to the Pope’s side, wiping the blood from his face with the dirty corner of its robes.
Donald Urkish bowed before the unconscious Pontiff, and made a hasty exit. His pace slowed as the doors closed behind him, and a smile slowly spread across his face. This was better than he could have imagined. The Five were scared. They were losing the war with the Azrael.
This fact presented Donald with all manner of new opportunities. He made his way towards his flagship, the Asmodeus, his ancient frame practically skipping the entire way.