Welcome to Percotran -Part II

By Richard Davidson

It was, of course, a Nebulex 6500M, which was quite simply the most amazing device ever invented. It was both a heater and an air conditioner, but it was also more, so much more, as the sales literature was quick to point out. Within each molecule of the air that came from the Nebulex 6500M, was a tiny sensor that measured temperature, humidity, and oxygen level; continuously monitored levels of airborne bacteria, which it could neutralize; and each sensor communicated directly with the central processor, which regulated the content of each vent in an entire set of buildings.

This resulted in air that was exactly 71 degrees, in every single square inch of every single room.

The Nebulex 6500M processed 65,000,000,000,000,000 cubic miles of air every 1/100,000,000th of a second. It did this with such force, that Alexander found it impossible to descend any lower than a couple of hundred feet from the floor below, which was a simple ring encircling the Nebulex 6500M.

The Nebulex Air Purifying Corporation had long ago been swallowed up by the hungry Percotran International, in one of the bloodiest mergers in a thousand years. Gunnar Thorssen, the genius inventor of the 6500M, was accidentally killed when a particle bomb was set off in the Executive Boardroom, during the Purge of Excessive Waste that killed every key executive except for Wilson Randolph, who was conspicuously missing that day.

No one had ever questioned the fact that Thorssen had improved his invention every year, since back when it was the 6500A, and yet hundreds of years later, there was still no 6500N. In all that time, even a mighty corporation like Percotran hadn’t found a way to duplicate the gift of this one unique individual.

The sales literature stated that there simply had never been a need to improve the Nebulex 6500M; it was the perfect machine. Which is probably why you need to sign a lifelong contract to have 30% of your wages deducted for Airflow, but that wasn’t a problem for most Percotran employees, since they lived right there at the company. Housing was for rich people, who had names.

Much of this would be explained to Alexander by the man who would find him floating there, some three and a half days later, unconscious. He wasn’t as dehydrated as he could’ve been, though, because the Nexulex 6500M consistently sent alot of moisture his way.

When Alexander awoke, he was in a simple wooden bed, with lavish silk sheets, in a small wooden room, that was pitching to and fro just a bit. That seemed strange to Alexander, to be in such a room after all the sterile, corporate environments he’d been in lately.

And the fact that it was pitching seemd truly bizarre, until Alexander had a thought that took him back to his own time, and even further.

“I’m on a ship!”

“A wooden ship, out on the ocean,” he thought, and that thought filled his mind with a strange satisfaction.

He tried to sit up. His hands were bound, with rough, hemp rope, which was also tied to the bed itself.

“Next thing you know, a 16th century pirate will walk through that door,” he thought, half expecting it to actually happen.

But as much as he may have expected it, Alexander still wasn’t ready for when it actually did happen, only an hour or so later.

He was six foot three, with long, flowing black hair, and the entire outfit. He had a sword in a scabbard by his side, elaborate black boots, and clothes made of the finest silk. He strode arrogantly through the door, and stared at Alexander, with an intensity he had never seen before.

Alexander must have turned white as a sheet, because the pirate laughed heartily, and said, “now who might you be?”

Alexander told him about Percolex, and the research scientist who had shot himself, and with every new detail, the pirate would laugh again, appearing to be having a genuinely good time. Alexander got him up to the part where he came in, and then stopped. The pirate drew his sword, and walked closer to Alexander.

“I’m the President of Algorithm Enterprises,” he announced with a swagger. “ Member of IPC.”

“IPC?”

“That’s the International Pirate Conglomerates, of course,” he laughed, swishing his sword inches from Alexander’s face.

With intense speed, he brought the sword down next to Alexander twice, and then once across. Alexander felt the wind of the blade each time, and then noticed his ropes had been cut, and he was free.

“I’m not one of those idiot number people, you know,” he continued. “I have a name.”

“Captain John ‘Blood Dog’ Pearson at your service,” he tipped an imaginary hat, “the most feared Corporate Pirate on all the thirteen seas.”

“Thirteen?” asked Alexander, not wanting to know why.

“Ay,” Captain Pearson laughed again, “Earth’s waters have risen a bit since your time.”

The Captain looked serious.

“I suppose you’ll be wantin’ a good meal before we get to killing you then?”

Alexander looked at him in disbelief, hoping this was the Captain’s sick sense of humor coming out.

“You didn’t think I’d let you live, did you?” the Captain tried to stop himself from laughing, but he was having no luck at all.

“You’re far too weak to be one of my crew, and you’re not nearly pretty enough to be anybody’s girlfriend, except for maybe Randy Pete, who’d gladly make love to a squid.”

“And quit looking at me like that, ya bastard; it’s not like I didn’t offer to feed you, tell some good stories, and sing a song or two first.”

Alexander supposed Captain Pearson had a point. That’s probably more than the people of Percotran would’ve done, had they caught up with him. They would’ve probably tagged him Corpse 2345G, after using some kind of little beam to stop his heart or something.

“So when are you gonna do it?” Alexander asked.

“What the hell kind of question is that?” the Captain sincerely wanted to know. “It’ll be a surprise lad, believe me, you’ll never see it coming.”

Alexander guessed the Captain had some kind of code of ethics, however twisted they may be.

“But I’ll tell you one thing right up front,” the Captain offered.

“What’s that?”

“I never killed a man by poisoning ‘im.”

That was good news.

Alexander had never been so hungry in his life.

Talkback: Post Reply | View replies (14)