“Gentlemen and Ladies of the consortium. We have come to a turning point in our… situation. Certain opportunities have developed. Let’s call them, lucrative, developments.” He held in a smile knowing the gravity of gold. The need for more, despite collectively owning most, was the ultimate driving force in their existence. Until they had it all, nothing would get in their way: humanity, ecology… the environment, certainly not aliens.
“We have reached this cross-roads and must act. If you check your dossiers, Ratzinger has forwarded your individual instruction and your reward for doing this. You each have a part to play. Now, for the updates. What is the status on the hydrocarbons?”
The Minister of Atmospheric Degradation checked his notes: “Oil and gas consumption has never been higher. The world is under the impression that there is a finite supply, but we know better. Saudi wells will never run dry. We shall continue to raise the prices as if it’s in demand. Electric vehicle production has been thwarted. Carbon dioxide concentration is now 405 ppm and rising. Global greenhouse effect is nearing its zenith.”
“Well done,” said Gutt. “What of our other objectives? Davidson?”
Davidson’s sad face appeared and he began revealing the facts. “Plastic volume in the ocean is sixty billion pieces and counting, the Pacific garbage patch is the size of Australia. Rainforest destruction for palm oil and beef is progressing, now less than twenty five percent remain worldwide. Biodiversity is decreasing. The Earth’s wildlife dwindles to fifty percent of its volume since the industrial revolution.”
“Good, good. Excellent work.”
Eigor paused, shifting his uncomfortable mass on his feet. “Levels of production are to be increased two hundred percent. Opposition has been taken out of the picture though there remains some troublemakers we need to round up. Number one on the list is Scott Blake and his wife Brooke. They are insignificant, yet they defy us. Information they have can alter our marine plans.”
He cleared his throat and stared into the feed.
“Where are they?”
The Investigation Agency commander stood, his black suit tailored in a tight fit. “We have lost contact with the woman, but the biologist is at large and has been spotted in a boat. Our men will intercept shortly.”
“Good. Good.” Eigor’s stomach rumbled, he wished to get back to his chamber. He walked toward the airlock tower. “Prepare the sub.”
Marine Space 