Veil of Shadow - 21. Epilogue

November 12, minutes before 2pm:

"Sir?"

The queries that came from the directorate CEOs were expected, and prepared for.

"I am sorry, sir." The CorpSec representative shook his head. "He will be late. I apologise for the inconvenience taken."

"Really?" The PM&S magnate seemed confused. "My only experience has been constancy."

"As has mine." ParaTech's CEO was unequivocal. "I don't believe this should take so long. What's the hold-up?"

"Just a minor glitch," he informed the man, "and fixed soon enough. Then you'll have his full attention."

"Hmph. I have no patience for theatrics," muttered the third CEO, the other three nodding their agreement in concert. "It was his decision to call this meeting to order. I don't want to wait any more."

No further waiting was required.

"Give me just a minute, ladies and gentlemen, then it will begin."

The CorpSec officer ducked out of the convention suite and walked through the garden surrounds. The meeting place was private AMSCOR property and far from the prying eyes of the general public; secluded and with all the facilities one could want. It was ideal for a congregation of the world's richest few. On a liftpad at the garden's end, an executive shuttle was waiting. He climbed the steps and through the shuttle's side entrance. Sitting in the passenger chair was the absent member of the directorate, a taller man in a finely tailored suit, tumbler with a splash of brandy in hand. He was gazing out the side window, mind resting in idle thought.

"Sir, we are ready."

The AMSCOR director did not look at him, but spoke back, a cultured and mellifluous tenor. "You have taken care of all of it? There cannot be any missing pieces."

There weren't.

It had taken years to organise and to finalise in all the secretive and muddy detail shrouding the directorate, but now? Now they were ready, and with little time to spare.

"Sir. I have seen to it."

The director nodded, then glanced pointedly to the empty seat across from his.

"Pilot, begin the ascent." The exterior door closed and the shuttle began to lift off. The director offered a glass like his own, a slosh of amber swirling in it, and he took it. "Mr Quân, you have been a loyal servant to MFM, and I will not forget your faithful service. This is your reward: you get to see the corporation transformed from an oligarchy into something much less ... cumbersome. You get to do it."

He handed Quân a second item: a data pad with the schedule plan active on it. In the middle were two large virtual buttons.

Quân reached out, no hesitation at all, and hit the green button.

Execute.

All over the world, in dozens of different locations, over the next twenty seconds, more than a hundred people died.

Young and old, man and woman, child and senior; the genealogies of six families were wiped away as scores of CorpSec agents enacted the plan. The targeted were erased from history as thoroughly as anyone could be.

From space, three CorpSec cruisers fired down at the private gathering, the building site reduced to rubble in moments from the bombardment, the six CEOs still inside.

"Sir, I-"

"You may use my name, Mr Quân. You have earned the right."

The director stood, watching the exterior view. They were arriving in low orbit, moving to dock with his private vessel, the shuttle gliding into a hangar and being swallowed by the larger ship.

"My Lord Hartley, you give me a great honour."

"I know." Tytos Hartley, the usurper and sole authority of MFM's titanic power, smiled and sipped his cognac. "The first of many, Mr Quân."

Moments later, the vessel jumped, through the infinite pathways. Away from Earth and the conflict to come, it reached afar, skimming past the universal horizon of the veiled shadow.