Chapter 8: Company Policy
“About time you showed up,” Otto Algreil said. He sat in a plain chair behind a plain desk in a plain office. Aside from the white carpet and the red and blue lines leading from the door to intersect in the Algreil Aerospace logo at his feet, the whole place was metallic silver.
Rudy flashed his older brother an exaggerated smile. “I feel so wanted, bro. Normally you’re happy to be rid of me.”
Otto shook his head. “Just sit down and shut up.”
“That’s the brother I know and love,” Rudy said. He sounded happy. In a way, he supposed he was. If Otto ever displayed a dram of real affection, it probably meant he was sick. If he was sick, he might die.
As much as the idea appealed to Rudy, it also meant a hell of a lot of responsibilities landing on his shoulders. Had he been a theist, or even much of a believer in the Almighty Principle as a concept, he would have prayed for a long and healthful pattern to his brother’s days.
“Where the hell have you been for the past two days,” Otto asked. “You check out of the company compound and don’t check in until hitting the mecha stables in the company of an unknown woman –”
“Unfair,” Rudy said.
Otto raised an eyebrow.
“I know who she is,” Rudy said.
Otto looked about ready to reach across the spartan metal desk and strangle him. Mission accomplished.
“You know she’s not an industrial spy sent to steal data on the Epee-class interceptor?”
“If you’d met her, you’d know it, too.”
“Or,” Otto said, “I’d know she’s good enough to fool you. Not that it takes much.”
“Look, she’s not a spy, okay? I made contact with her, not the other way around. When I did it, I was, as you pointed out, out of contact with HQ. Nobody knew where I was at the time, so how the hell could they have coordinated any kind of espionage action?”
“Even if she’s not, someone could still entice or coerce information from her.”
“Just like they could from those wage slaves you have working the Epee most of the time,” Rudy said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“She is not part of the corporate family,” Otto snapped. “We have no jurisdiction over her. It’s not equivalent at all.”
Rudy shrugged. “You gonna pull me out of the tournament over it, bro? Gonna fire me?”
Otto gritted his teeth in answer.
“Then it’s not a big deal,” Rudy said. “Now, what else do you want to bitch about?”
“Why weren’t you on call for the real operation on this planet? If you’d offered any kind of assistance, we might have recovered the primary instead of loose change.”
“Real operation? I thought this was a field test for the production model Epee."
Otto sighed. “You didn’t watch the subliminal briefing.”
“I hate those damned things, bro. They always give me headaches. You know that. You knew when you gave it to me. Hell, I pitched it before we left Algreil Prime! If I needed to know, you could’ve told me in person.”
“Forget it. I should’ve known better than to rely on you for anything substantive. How many times have I had to bail your lazy ass out after you screwed up? Twenty? Fifty? A hundred? It seems like a hundred.”
Rudy barked a laugh. “Get off your high horse, Otto. You don’t do me any favors because I’m your beloved little brother. You keep me around because I’m a damn good mechaneer and I show off Algreil Aerospace’s product line better than anybody else you could get.”
“Someday, Rudy, that may not be enough.”
“But not this day,” Rudy said. He tossed his brother a wave as he rose from his chair and drifted toward the door. “See you at the tournament, bro. Wish me luck.”
“For the company’s sake, I will.”
“You bring a tear to my eye.”
“Then for once, we have something in common.”
Rudy chuckled. He had a hard time picturing Otto weeping over anything – but hey, he did like a challenge.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He strode through the doors of Otto's office and down halls of similarly spartan construction. Algreil Aerospace knew how to provide luxury for its employees, but its oligarch, weaned on civil warfare, didn't like to see said luxury at the office. Otto lived in an orbital complex swank enough to put the nobs' old manors to shame, but he worked in an office little bigger than a cubicle and expected his subordinates to follow suit.
Rudy wondered how many decorations had been stripped from the halls when the local branch learned their oligarch planned to visit Wellach.
For his part, Rudy preferred the comforts of a nice hotel. Since he was the best test pilot on the Algreil payroll, he got what he wanted. For all Otto’s bluster, the only way he could make a profit by firing Rudy was if he went back to piloting the prototypes himself. He’d never shown much inclination to do so.
A pair of corporate security officers passed him. They offered crisp, military-style salutes, proving that despite their regular uniforms, they were old enough to have served under Otto in Devil Ray Squadron during the Civil War.
“At ease, guys,” Rudy said. “I’m not my brother.”
From the resentment in their eyes, they knew it quite well. Plenty of the Devil Rays were test pilots in their own right. Plenty of them thought they were better suited to operating the company prototypes.
After all, the Crimson Phoenix had never actually won the Etemenos Cup.
Rudy was surprised to see them dressed like regular security officers. “What’re you guys doing here? Otto bring you along for the ride?”
“We’re here to clean up the messes you didn’t bother with,” one snapped. He added a reluctant, “Mr. Algreil.”
The other shot him a warning glare.
Rudy cocked an eyebrow. “Is this about Otto’s ‘real operation’ on Wellach? What exactly is he up to?”
“If you don’t know, Mr. Algreil, you apparently don’t need to,” the second Devil Ray said.
“Well, you’re probably right there,” Rudy said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”
Two stony faces answered the unspoken question.
Rudy shrugged. “Whatever it is, don’t let me keep you. Principle knows I’m on a need to know basis around here.”
They nodded token respect, or maybe just agreement, and brushed past him.
Assholes, Rudy thought.
Still, he wondered what two of his brother’s personal assholes were being so secretive about. He wished he hadn’t scrapped the subliminal briefing. Figured, the first time he was actually interested in one of the damn things, he didn’t have it.
He knew he should drop it and head back to the hotel. Leaving Chloe alone for too long seemed like a bad idea. Even a week since her parents' capture, her mental state went from bad to worse when she didn’t have him around to distract her.
She could wait a little while longer.
He strode down the hall until the two Devil Rays turned the corner, then whirled and slunk back along their trail. Though he’d never cleared a semester at a mechaneer academy, no one ever said he lacked talent for things military. He doubted even a pair of his brother’s elites could hear him gliding across the carpet.
For several blocks worth of arcanely labeled metal hallways, Rudy thought he was wasting his time. The Devil Rays made a complete circuit of the Algreil Aerospace main building without even speaking.
Then it struck Rudy.
They were patrolling.
Why have elite troops on patrol? Did Otto expect an attack? If some corporate rival actually intended a frontal assault on Algreil holdings, Rudy did feel bad for skipping the briefing. Company loyalty wasn’t his strong suit, but he knew what side buttered his bread.
The Devil Rays didn’t seem worried. Otto didn’t really seem worried, either, just annoyed.
Maybe they didn’t want to keep someone out.
Rudy stopped. While the Devil Rays marched out of earshot, he willed his flight suit’s mask up to cover his head and face. The nanomachines lacing the suit's fabric attached directly to his nervous system, making it almost an extension of his body. The Algreil Aerospace logo appeared on its otherwise transparent heads-up display.
He ran through his activation codes and passwords. The HUD flashed to the hub of the Algreil Aerospace network on Wellach. Remembering Otto’s shuttle zooming over the port village, he navigated to its flight records.
He frowned.
According to the records, the shuttle, and Otto’s mecha, had been in the service bay the entire time. Mr. Algreil himself had not left the Algreil Aerospace platform since arriving on Wellach.
Bull, Rudy thought.
Why falsify high security internal records? It meant a hassle explaining fuel expenses, landing clearances – hell, it was bad business. Otto allowed no trace of bad business.
Just what the hell had he been doing at the port?
It had to be something illegal. Not just the usual corporate shenanigans, the shadow war between Oligarchs. Something bad enough to piss off the Feds, maybe as high up as the Senate itself.
Pissing off the Feds was even worse business than messing with the internal records. If they got mad enough, they had the power to shut down an entire company, even one as powerful as Algreil Aerospace. It had happened once before.
Rudy, then sixteen, had flunked out of his third mechaneer academy and gone back to the family estate-station at Algreil Prime. When he saw Otto’s face, he’d thought his third flunk out would be his last. He’d never seen his brother look so ashen. It had shaken Rudy more than he wanted to admit, to the point he’d broken down and asked what was wrong.
Rudy’d had to ask three times before he finally got an answer.
“They hit Kalder-Black,” Otto had said. “Wiped them out, the whole company. Slagged the planet's surface, confiscated the rest. Casualties still tallying.”
Rudy hadn’t understood why losing a competitor upset his brother. Morgan Kalder-Black, of Kalder-Black Industrial Technologies, had been their number one rival. “Who are 'they?'”
“The Feds,” Otto had said, like it explained everything.
Which, Rudy supposed, it did.
He never remembered seeing his brother look truly sad or scared, except that day.
Which meant whatever Otto had been after on Wellach, whatever his ‘real operation’ was, it was valuable enough to risk the entire company for.