CHAPTER 8

FIRST MAN

4 Years Later

Reginald sat in the dark of his office, the lights off so he could be alone with his thoughts. They were not pleasant companions, but he did not force them away. Every risk had its chance of failure, and their number had come due.

A light on his desk flashed, showing an incoming call. With heavy limbs, he accepted the call and his monitor flared to life.

‘Sorry to bother you sir, but we’ve got word from the UPN about the latest round of contractor bidding.’

Something twisted in his chest as he thought of this, he still hoped it was good news, but expected the worst. Their fortunes seemed pegged to the fears of short-sighted bureaucrats.

‘What’s the result?’ Reginald asked tiredly.

‘We’ve lost the bid. It went to Gold Star Computing for this round. Maybe next round.’

‘Maybe,’ he said, and keyed off the call without further comment.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with his hands.

It was ironic, that the thing that had brought them so close to their ultimate victory, was the same thing that now threatened to destroy it. In both cases the same thing had happened; a Guardian had felt emotion.

One had reacted with bravery and saved its ship, the other had reacted with paranoia and fear and tried to steal the ship it was on.

One had been safely retrieved. The other, destroyed.

The thought of a machine rising against its creators gripped those in the know with an unspeakable fear, and in fear they reacted, lashing out at the company they held responsible.

Both incidents had been swept out of sight and buried deep behind security clearance. As far as anyone was concerned, no Guardian had ever felt Human emotion, and as far as the I.S.A. and U.P.N. were concerned, none ever would again.

Only by virtue of how much of the industry owed to the pioneering efforts of Axion, were they even allowed to keep Xavier, or keep their XO cores active, albeit with new rules and restrictions. What XO cores remained had seen their potential severely limited, removing any chance of another Xavier, or another Exo.

It appeared their star was setting, and hubris caused its descent.

Reginald pounded the desk top with his fist, and the items on it rattled.

He ran his fingers through his hair and called up a report on his computer to look at what they faced. The I.S.A. had pulled their contract with Axion, at great cost because of an early termination clause. That money was helping keep the company afloat in the meantime. The U.P.N. had taken the financially prudent course to wait out their contract, but only because Axion had offered them updates to all their Guardians with stronger security features and limits on their behavioural development. The U.P.N. limited their Guardians, rather than risk an Azure Dream incident with a warship.

The contract was now at its completion, and despite Reginald's best efforts, and his assurances that no Guardian of theirs would ever go rogue again, they did not renew.

Their two largest contracts were now gone, and the income streams they represented were no more. They had several smaller contacts, but even they seemed skittish of late. They could have no reason to know of the I.S.A. and U.P.N.’s reasons for backing out, but they could see that the big fish were swimming away from Axion, and they yearned to follow suit. It was only a matter of time before the remaining income source became even smaller.

They could not risk shutting down. They still had Xavier, and the perfect future was still possible.

Somehow they had to prevail.

Opening up a budget overview, Reginald began the uncomfortable process of cutting away departments and personnel they could no longer afford.

He worked in uncomfortable silence until he lost track of time. One by one, departments shrank, and projects were shuttered. All so the dream would survive.

An errant thought passed through his mind. It was constructed from cold logic and hot ideology and made his stomach turn at the feel of it.

He paused in his trimming and started working a new number. This time he entered two lump sum infusions of cash into his calculations and estimated the interest payouts available from them if they were invested into other companies and ventures. It was a narrow margin, but it seemed to be enough to keep the lights on at IO station, and keep Xavier alive almost indefinitely. It would be a core that was more secure than the rest of the company, one independent of the fickle whims of short sighted policy makers and paper pushers.

He tapped his finger on his desk and rubbed a finger shakily along his chin.

It could work. It would work. If only he had the will to create it.

But he couldn’t face it just yet. He needed more time. Ashton needed more time.

The realities of what he was trying to make loomed over him like a cloud and threatened to rob his strength.

Nevertheless, he moved his hand over the keyboard and typed out a code to make a call. After a moment it connected. A man who shared a familial resemblance answered the line.

‘Son, I understand you lost the bid,’ said his father, Reginald Axion I.

Reginald II Nodded.

‘So what are you going to do about it? I stepped down from chairman almost twenty years ago when you got old enough. I’ve been working as your silent PR specialist since then to keep Axion in everyone’s good graces for the sake of our future, but now I’m seeing it all come crashing down. You’d best have a plan boy,’ said his father.

His face flashed with anger. ‘Don’t call me boy, this could have just as well happened on your watch as it did on mine. There was no way to know a Guardian would react this way, because we’ve never had a Guardian like Exo or Xavier until now, and you know it.’

‘I’ll call you whatever I want if I have to. This is bigger than us! You’d better have a plan.’

Some internal hesitation relaxed inside him. There was no love lost between the two, and that fact alone made what came next easier.

‘You’re right, this is bigger than us. I’m sending you a finical estimate, I want you to see it before we talk about my plan,’ he said, entering a command on the computer.

‘Ok, I see it, what am I looking at?’

‘You’re looking at the capital necessary, invested in outside assets, that would keep Xavier and Io station alive almost indefinitely regardless of whatever loss Axion suffers.’

The older man nodded. ‘Yes, it would probably be enough, but where do you purpose we get this capital from?’

‘Some of it is from the liquidation of company assets, but the rest is from the life insurance policies the company has on you, me, and our wives.’

The older man’s face went very still, ‘What are you asking exactly?’

‘I’m asking us to die.’

‘Is Xavier ready to accept us?’

‘As ready as he can be.’

‘What about the boy?’ asked his father.

‘Ashton’s not old enough to assume control of the company. I’ll need to remain for at least another five years, then it’ll be my turn.’

Reginald Axion I looked gravely at the camera. ‘I see. It’s a good plan. We’ll come to IO station immediately to carry out the preparations.’

‘I… appreciate your willingness,’ Reginald said.

His father let slip a smile. ‘I get to be the first man in the new world. It was always my plan, just happens a little sooner than I expected. It’s worth it to secure our future. How do you plan on making this happen?’

‘A shuttle accident on your way home. After you have visited the station, and had your mind uploaded into Xavier, your shuttle will suffer a navigational issue and your jump drive will send you into Jupiter’s core.’

‘Which would destroy all evidence of foul play. It’s a good plan. What about logs of this call?’

‘It’s over our own communications network, routed through Xavier, there will be no logs.’

‘We will leave for the station as soon as we are ready,’ his father said.

‘Then there is still hope for our future.’