To: The Master of Secrets, Area 51

Re: Your Offer of Employment

I am concerned that you are seeking my help. I assume your project is not going well, and you are desperate. Regardless, I refuse your offer. I am not for hire. I will not keep your secrets. It would be pointless for me to study the artifact. I can’t do what you want. You can’t show me anything I don’t already know.

That said, here’s some free advice.

The artifact will not be understood without the entirety of the human race working on it. You are a fool to keep it secret. Alien antigravity tech is a tough nut to crack. It needs billions of hours of study. A handful of military contractors are not going to cut it. Take it out of your stupid fucking mountain and show it to the world.

I realize antigravity is the ultimate weapon, and it's your nature to hold power over others. Obviously, keeping this power for yourself is your number one priority.

But why?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Honestly, what’s your plan? Are you going to build an unbeatable warship? Then what? Take over the world? Do whatever you want? You’re already a billionaire. You can already do whatever you want. Hell, I do whatever I want with no money. It’s not that hard.

Power has diminishing returns. Moderate amounts allow freedom. Great amounts are a cage. Putin and Xi are trapped in their presidencies. Unable to leave without being destroyed by enemies they created. Forced to use all of their power simply to maintain their power. Pathetic.

If you build your warship, you will never be able to leave it. You will have built your own prison.

But of course, you will never build your warship. Because you can’t. How many of the artifact’s former masters died waiting for revelation? How much longer do you have? That’s not a rhetorical question. I simply wonder when I’ll be bothered by your successor.

So. Give the artifact to the world. Use the goodwill that engenders to escape your dire political situation. Retire on a mountain of cocaine and hookers. Reap the rewards of a post gravity society when we build intergalactic spaceships in 5 years. Leave the Earth. Find some space hookers. Get space herpes. Live, laugh, love.

Or, If you can’t take my advice, then take this warning - leave me alone. I can’t build an antigravity warship and wouldn’t if I could. You lack the capacity to coerce me. If you try, the life you ruin will be your own.

Fuck off.

Overmind