Extra:
Medusa calls Hawks, but she can see from the cam that he is not in his office. She suspects things have gone wrong. She switches off and thinks about what having the oldest living entity on the planet’s DNA will do for her longevity product in development.
Kris Kringle was this entity and she would confirm it as soon as Hawks and his secret lab confirm it from the data smuggled in through that cigarette. Assuming, of course, that Hawks had the cigarette.
Medusa’s holographic face scowled, but there was no one to see it. “I see you still are not in your office.” This was the second call to Hawks on his secure line and still he wasn’t answering.
“Very well. Your absence can mean only one thing. You do not have the situation in hand. A good thing you are millions of miles away, or not only would you be facing me, but you would have a swarm of press to deal with.” Then she added, “I do not like the press much.”
Car-ith Medusa waited for a moment, drumming her long fingernails on her desktop, waiting to see if Hawks would appear, but there was only silence and his empty maroon leather chair, just as Dr. Hawks had left it in his hurried scramble to micro-manage what was going on in the lab.
“You had better get the situation in hand and soon, or you will wish a meteorite hits Eagle’s Landing and you get to die quickly. My plans for your demise won’t be so merciful.”
Medusa switched off and contemplated the empty translucent screen. Assessing the worst case, she realized it would be that they had been wrong about this Kris Kringle and that there was no Santa Claus with genetic material to be exploited and sold as a longevity drug.
Her intelligence-gathering entity within CABEL assured her that there was a man who had lived through generations, calling himself variously Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, and Sinterklaas, among other names. They found rare pictures and interviewed old people who remembered him from their childhood. Throughout the centuries, this man Kris Kringle had appeared in folk tales, books, and even advertisements for the old Coke company. What was less known was that he made personal appearances at festivals, on stage, in the movies, anywhere the old Christmas season was being celebrated. Medusa wondered if he had a talent agent.
And dang! but she wanted that drug to go to market. It would guarantee that CABEL would become the richest and, therefore, the most powerful entity on the Earth and the Moon. She would take over WWC, replace Bubb-ya as CEO, and install him as the token leader of UE. She would live forever, turn Bubb-ya into her slave-clone to deal with the tedious part of fame and power (those nasty public appearances), and live happily ever after. She did have a few disturbing moments when she was forced to contemplate what came after all the money and power in the world for all eternity, but she was sure something interesting would turn up. Maybe she would terra-form part of the Moon so she could build a getaway up there. It would have to have oceans, as well as lush green areas she could walk through and smell the roses. And the tea leaves.
But she spotted the downside right away. She would be alone, no one to boss around. Maybe she’d populate her Moon with some of her political prisoners, those people who had dared cross her. She’d give them the longevity drug to ensure they’d be around to be tormented through eternity, just like the old Greek and Roman gods would do. Like maybe something the goddess Hera would do.
Medusa smirked. Much better.
First, she’d have to deal with Dr. Hawks. And that ninny Kenny, though she had to admit that of the two, Kenny was more useful to her, keeping the Humidor Room safe, clean, and stocked, and bringing her fresh cups of tea. He also had physical attributes she found a little crude, but pleasurable to look at.
All that might soon change with Kenny. She wasn’t sure she could get over his mishandling of the cigarette containing the all-important DNA. It was the only sample in the world taken during the last century of the man the Earth acknowledged as Santa Claus, the longest living being on the planet. They would compare it to the man now on the Moon going by the name of Kris Kringle. If it was a match, they would have a source for genetic engineering the prevention of aging. The world would make her a goddess!
Only Medusa knew the significance of that special DNA and would reveal it to Dr. Hawks when she was sure the Kris Kringle blood samples were secure and the lab people were ready for the next step in developing the longevity drug. When she was sure Hawks wasn’t going to ruin their plans with his bungling. Or Kenny’s clumsy screw-ups. Kenny was a dolt, but sometimes a girl just wanted to have fun with a young hunk. Brains could be checked at the door.
She sipped her tea and looked toward the small humidor on the conference table containing her private stash. A cigarette, something with a tarry flavor, would go well with this particular tea that she obtained from Madagascar. She would grow tea on the Moon, several of her favorites, then develop her own special blend. Maybe she would market that blend and sell only to the few who could afford her longevity drug. Maybe she would give it away as an incentive to buy the special treatment.
Extra:
Her thoughts turned to the next problem, one brought up at the last CABEL meeting. Bubb-ya was getting out of hand, more forgetful, talking about things that were for corporate ears only. Bubb-ya was wearing down and would need to be replaced soon. The cloning would be easy. The scientists and doctors in charge had it down to a routine. It was the intangibles that gave them trouble. With the last “treatment,” the present Bubb-ya clone had exhibited some instability. Yes, he misspoke about serious matters in public, used the wrong words, but the Bubb-yas always had trouble with vocabulary. This latest Bubb-ya showed instability during his downtime, when his handlers were gone for the day. He sleepwalked, never dreamed, and was exhibiting sleep apnea. It was clear he wasn’t getting enough refreshing sleep and it was showing in his skin, the bruised circles under his eyes that were beginning to elude even cosmetics. Still, he was blissfully unaware that he had a problem and went through each day, difficult or easy, with the same moronic cheerful demeanor. He never changed and that was the problem. Humans changed, had mood swings, were moved to laughter or tears, got mad or happy. This clone always had the same happy response to everything: floods, famine, and fireworks were taken in with the same equanimity.
The question of course was what the next manifestation of instability in the clone would be? One thing Medusa couldn’t deal with would be a clone who suddenly got some backbone combined with brain power. One who would question her Five-year Plan to take over the Moon and the Earth, or want to do things his way. She knew the clone would have to go through training, during which time he would be programmed to put her agenda in place. If the glitches showed up during the training period, she and her people could adjust for them. If they turned up after the new Bubb-ya was unleashed on the world, it could be a potential disaster.
The immediate problem was that she needed a military presence on the Moon to protect her future plans and most of the thinkers of the world knew that the Military on the Moon was just nonsense, that the only reason for Military on the Moon with an Earth with nations no longer at war with each other would be to keep Earth safe from alien invaders. Think-tanks and independent thinkers claimed that since we don’t have aliens knocking on Earth’s door, or at least none that have been documented, there was nothing to protect Earth from, except maybe a stray asteroid or meteorite, and no amount of military force could do much about that. If and when there were aliens, then we should worry about arming against them in an appropriate manner.
If protecting the Earth wasn’t the argument, then it was that one of the Earth’s superpowers or wannabe superpowers wanted to dominate Earth by taking over the Moon and setting up a Star Wars situation. This argument was dismissed out of hand by the thinkers, who thought that no one in their right mind would want to take over the Earth. That was an old, rickety concept that was best kept in the past that had fostered it. But they didn’t know Medusa. Those Big Brains could never conceive that Medusa had plans, and they included a corporate take-over of the world. She and CABEL would rule forever!
Medusa smiled and somewhere nearby, glass cracked. She has an inspiration. When she took over the world, she would thereafter call herself Hera.
She looked down at her Visi-planner. The planner was a modern version of an older project management software that everyone had, but no one ever used. This was easier. Medusa could convert it to daily To Do lists and today’s To Do list was full.
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